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603.333333	2023-07-19	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "zekhartha", "message": "__Castle Lazaroth: The Courtyard__\nLike many other castles across the world, Lazaroth's is home to a wayshrine at its center, and surrounded by a garden. Given Lazaroth's climate and weather, oftentimes the garden's flora is bare but not dead. While it doesn't get as cold as it does in the neighboring kingdom of Gantrick, it still gets chilly enough to cause the leaves to fall from trees. At the courtyard's center is a wayshrine, but unlike others found across Lucidien, the magical flame that teleports individuals to and from it is not held within a pavillion. Rather, the flame is held by a statue of a beautiful dark elf woman- a depiction of the first matriarch of Lazaroth, Vannea Telzrar." }, { "author": "The Tale Weaver", "message": "Slowly but surely, Feyre would appear before the statue wayshrine, her body forming like stars coalescing into a single being. The air was chilly, but not so much so as Gantrick's. Elora was waiting patiently for the human to appear, and seemed to have already informed the dozen or so Lazarothian guards that had their swords at the ready for potential intruders. Many eyes were now upon Feyre, the second to appear from the wayshrine. The various guard's armor was a shining steel, very disimilar to the knights of Gantrick. While guards from Gantrick wore red, black and white, these men and women were clad in pure silver armor. Additionally, each were adorned with a wolf-like helmet atop their head.\n\nElora had very little time to warn Feyre, as the moment her body fully apparated into the Lazaroth courtyard a guard was nearly onto her. His sword was sheathed, but it seemed his more interested in assuring the small woman was not a threat to the castle or its inhabitants. The guard reached out to grab the human, but just as he made contact with her chilled arm a third being began to appear behind her in a thick cloud of icy mist..." }, { "author": "Tsar Alyus Archaius", "message": "Slowly, Alyus's vision was restored to him. Teleporting by wayshrine was something the king never enjoyed. It made him feel uncomfortable in a multitude of ways. During the fleeting seconds one was teleporting, it felt as though their body was not there. As if they were a cloud of air in a vast sea of stars, which surrounding one while teleporting. While it was beautiful to behold, Alyus could never seem to get used to it no matter how many times he used a wayshrine. As his vision and hearing came back to him, Alyus could hear the muffled voices of strange men and women, one's not familiar to him. It was clearly the guards of Lazaroth, but even still Alyus felt a pang of urgency swell within his chest.\n\nNow fully apparated, Alyus tugged Feyre backwards just out of reach of the guard. Now well within his grasp and pressed against his abdomen, Alyus would ensure no one else would even think about touching what was his. Eyeing the guard with a glare akin to that of a protective animal, eventually Alyus's growled out as he tried his best to reign in his frustration with the handling of Feyre. \"I am King Alyus Archaius of Gantrick. I am here to seek council with the Matriarch.\" The moment the guards laid eyes on the king, each took a slight step back, though none bowed. Their job was to protect the matriarch, not him, and they owed no allegiance to the Gantrick crown outside of the alliance.\n\n_ _\nAlyus looked to Elora, who had removed her helmet to ensure they knew she was no threat. There was an exasperated look on her face, and it was clear she tried her best to prepare the dozen or so guards for both his and Feyre's arrival. Being nothing more than a squire, it was clear they cared not for her words of reassurance. With Feyre in his grasp, an arm had settled down and around her to not only ensure no one touched her, but to make sure she had no chance of running off. The encounter had likely frightened her, and Alyus knew this. Past experiences of Feyre's fight or flight kicking in had prepared the king for such a moment. She'd not get away this time.\n\nA guard stepped forward, the same who had tried to grab Feyre. \"I will need to inform the queen of your arrival. You will need to remain here until then.\" The guard's voice was deep and serious. Ensuring the safety of his queen and kingdom was clearly no laughing matter to the man. Alyus replied, his voice stone cold. \"Then do so quickly.\" Upon the king's words, two guards turned and departed, entering the black castle of Lazaroth with haste. Now that things had calmed down, Alyus's grip on Feyre loosened ever so slightly, allowing her Some Freedom of movement. Without looking down, Alyus's voice softened as he addressed the human in his arms. \"Are you alright?\"" }, { "author": "Feyre \| Prisoner of Gantrick", "message": "At first, Feyre felt as if she was falling. Spiraling into a void where she had no control over where she was going. The experience was extraterrestrial at best, something the human had never been through. Her bones grew heavy within the first few seconds and then– Nothing but airless free flow consumed her. Whispering through a series of lights like a comet, only to be spat out gracefully on the other side. \n\nWhen Feyre eventually made it to the wayshrine of Lazaroth, she heard sounds of clattering metal and estranged voices before she ever saw anything. The human's vision stung, perhaps just a first timer's troubles when using such a magical relic no less. Trying to blink away the blur and dizziness in her head, Feyre heard Elora's voice roar amongst the many shouting men and women in the background. With just how urgent her tone struck, it seemed as though things were going awry– Causing the girl to press her fingers into her eyes and quickly wipe away the fog stuck to them. \n\nAs she regained her self awareness, Feyre's eyes stretched into wide orbs of panic the moment she realized the voices were swarms of bodies all around her. Pointed swords glinted under the moonlight overhead, though Feyre didn't have time to wrap her head around the shift in nature's atmosphere when blades were headed for her throat. A hitch formed in the young girl's throat as she staggered backwards a moment– hands instinctively raised at her sides. \"E-Elora..\" Feyre began, her eyes darting over to where her companion was desperately trying to calm the masses. \n_ _\n\nTensions grew higher the more the guardsmen rallied in deafening crowds. Between the sheathing of weapons and shuffling of armor scraping against one another, followed by shouting so stern– it was enough to bring Feyre to her knees. The circling only grew tighter as the human's body was forced into submission. She eyed the guards closest to her carefully, their swords even closer. Like a panicked prey encased with their killer, Feyre's breath heaved wildly. Her body beginning to tremble in an itch to run. Nevertheless, the moment one reached out to cease her, Feyre jolted to the side, reaching for her guard in a heap of panic. \"Elora!-\" \n\nThere was no telling just what these creatures would do once they got a hold of her, and every alarm was set off in poor Feyre's mind the moment she felt a grip dragging her back. With eyes wide with fear, the rare-blood was yanked with a force so sudden, it nearly caused her to scream. Just before she could however, familiar hands embraced her as she fell back into the chest of King Alyus. Feyre clasped her palms around his arms instinctively, gripping onto them as hard as she could. Heavy, frightened pants poured from her throat, staring at the many armored knights who held gazes unlike she had ever seen. Most were cold and cruel like the few in Gantrick who despised her presence; while others, seemed just as confused as her. \n _ _\n\nThe bear king's words brought them all to a standstill, their weapons lowering. It was an intense sight to see for Feyre, though her panic had not died down just yet. Her eyes remained alert and pointed, occasionally shifting to the side where Elora stood frozen all the same. Everyone seemed to be on their toes, and rightfully so. Feyre knew little to none about the works of a royal and their neighboring kingdoms, though if Alyus claimed this place to be a friend... It surely didn't seem like one. \n\nFew words were exchanged between the Lazaroth guards and the king before some turned on their heels to leave. Feyre, still clinging onto the arm fastened around her, was just now starting to realize just how Tight Alyus was holding her. She was undoubtedly sure he could Feel Just how hard and fast the poor girl's heart was beating– if her trembling body hadn't already given that away. A shift in her stance silently motioned his grip to soften, and as he did, Feyre exerted a stiff, quick sigh. \"I am now...\" The human managed to utter through a weak tone, her eyes still fixated on the many armored suits surrounding them. Even while frightened, Feyre still managed to but on a brave face for the king.. Something she was slowly learning from him. \n\|\| Song: 1121 by Halsey \|" }, { "author": "Tsar Alyus Archaius", "message": "Contrary to Feyre's assumptions, Alyus could not only feel the girl's heartbeat, but Hear It. After all, that polar bear within him had the very same senses as the real animal. Feeling Feyre's small hands on his arm did not startle the king. In fact, it told him that Feyre was comfortable and safe within his grasp. The hold he had on the human softened greatly, and as she reassured Alyus she was alright, the king . \"They did not mean you harm. They were simply doing their duties as protectors of their realm.\" Straightening the coat around Feyre's shoulders, Alyus gave a nod to Elora and the young guard came up beside the two of them. \"We're meeting with the queen of Lazaroth, Dhakashira Runacri.\" Explaining what little he chose to to Feyre, soon enough one of the two guards that had departed earlier returned.\n\n\"This way, your majesty.\" Gesturing for the Gantrickan party to follow him, the guard turned on his heel and began making his way towards the doors into the castle. Gently, Alyus pressed against Feyre's back to encourage her to begin walking, his arm still around her all the while. Entering the castle, the party would be greeted with a sight much different to Gantrick. The Lazaroth castle was black inside and out, statues of wolves along the walls, paintings of noble women between them. In her short studies, Feyre hadn't had a chance to learn of the other kingdoms, so Alyus did his best to teach what he could as they walked along.\n\n_ _\n\"Lazaroth is ruled by a matriarch- a queen. In most other kingdoms, a king is the head of the royal household, but not here.\" Walking through the brightly lit halls, the sun had fully set outside, causing nothing but moonlight to shine in from the occasional window they passed. Guards would pass by, and Feyre would get her first glimpse at the beauty of the dark elves. Their skin a blueish grey, perfect features and tall in stature, most of which being men. The sound of voices approaching caused Alyus's eyes to flicker to the source, and as they rounded a corner in the hallway the Gantrickans were greeted by a small posse of dark elf women, each dressed in lavish and revealing clothing.\n\n\"Well, who do we have here? Oh-!\" One of the dark elf woman, obviously the leader of the little group, quickly bowed low to the king she realized was before her. \"-your majesty. I did not know we'd be having guests.\" The woman eyed Elora, then Alyus, and then Feyre, whom she stared at for a while longer. It was clear she was inspecting the woman who she didn't know was a human, and with a raised eyebrow she gestured toward Feyre. \"Are you taking her to see the queen? Looking like that? Tsk- that won't do, Alyus and you know it.\" Alyus, who offered a nod in return to the woman's bow, looked down to Feyre upon hearing she looked a certain way. The king new there was no time to prepare her, but perhaps it would be best if she looked at least somewhat presentable to meet the matriarch...\n\n_ _\n\"I'll doll her up for you and the queen, don't worry. I'm Avir Nalvaci, maid of honor of the queen. It's nice to meet you, miss...?\" Extending her greyish-blue hand for Feyre to take, Alyus could feel the apprehension growing in the human's muscles. Leaning down, Alyus muttered into Feyre's ear, his voice as calm and reassuring as it could be. \"I know her, she's trustworthy. Won't you want to look your best to meet a queen? She'll bring you to me the moment you're ready.\" Pulling away, Alyus gently pressed against Feyre's back, encouraging her to go with Avir. \"Elora, accompany them.\" Without hesitation, Elora came up beside Feyre and offered her arm for the human to take. \"I got you, don't worry.\" Elora muttered, offering a smile." }, { "author": "Feyre \| Prisoner of Gantrick", "message": "Queen. That word constantly sang within Feyre's mind as she listened intently to everything her king said to her. Many of the subjects in the books she used to learn and read did cover the very slim basics of royalty and their positions, what correlation one had to another however, Feyre did not know. A Queen, Fey thought, Would she be as mesmerizingly terrifying as King Alyus? Part of the human wanted to ask just why both she and Elora were needed to meet a Queen. The rather stressful warm welcome proved to her enough that being a ruler was a tedious job, as knights and guardsmen were still circling the group like a pack of vultures... All eyeing her. \n\nDeciding to hold her tongue for the most part, Feyre's back arched rigidly when the King pressed his hand against it. She felt like a sheep being herded into a slaughter, however, still she tried her best to shadow the look of shock that still rattled in her wide, turquoise eyes. Golden brown locks bounced around Feyre's face as she pushed her feet forwards, falling in rhythmic step with her guard and protector. From the courtyard that housed the wayshrine, Feyre didn't see much of Lazaroths daunting castle... But now, entering the mouth of its massive doors, the small mortal could be seen gaping at the skyscraper that rose above them. \n\nOutside, Lazaroth seemed haunting. It's dark overlay meshing with the night as if the darkness had woven the land all on its own. Although, once inside the inky mansion, Feyre had a plethora to behold. While still laminated in dark colors, the castle was beautiful. Statues far larger than anyone in the room towered overhead, leaving Feyre to observe it from every angle possible as they walked by. The series of candle light scattered neatly through the halls did seem to comfort her a bit, the warmth of their glow bringing back the feeling in her anxious, and freezing toes. \n_ _\n\nFeyre tried her best to be mindful of others as they passed by the Gantrickan crew. She learned early on that staring was not found kindly amongst many, even if she meant no harm. Nevertheless, when by-passers did emerge, Feyre caught herself many times lingering on the appearances beneath silver suits, or lavish clothing. These people... They looked nothing Like People. With skin in shades of various pale colors, most notably blues and grays– The way they danced under candle light, shimmering in comparison to that of Feyre's human flesh. \n\nIt was hard to not lock eyes with each soul that passed. Even as she did, Feyre felt a tantalizing chill that ached down her spine. Something about the way these elegant creatures simply existed... It was captivating, with just the right hints of danger. \n\nScaling onwards through the Lazaroth castle, Feyre did her best to remember each and every tidbit Alyus murmured to her. Gentle nods of acknowledgement would bob from the young girl's head from time to time, eyes still wide in awe about the lively room. Feyre, as always, had many questions filling her mouth. Wondering just why it mattered if a King or a Queen were to rule, and why a woman was such a rare thing to be ordering a land alone. Just as the words began to form on the tip of her tongue however, voices that not only caught her off guard– but the group as a whole – stopped them in their tracks.\n _ _" }, { "author": "The Fable Keeper", "message": "Elora and Feyre held each other side by side as the pair were escorted by the maid of honor, Avir Nalvaci. The series of rooms that passed seemed far more elegant than the last until finally, the dark elf stopped at a tall, black double door. Flicking a silver key from under her sleeve like magic, the maid unlocked the room and ushered the two in. Inside, the room looked almost like an illusion, or a painting at that. Candles danced in the air overhead, while some crowded around a vanity below, all giving light into the space which was surprisingly brighter than the hallways of the castle. \n\nGolden was the mirror that sat in the corner of the room, its size almost stretching out the panels of two whole walls. In each corner lay something completely different however; a bathing station to the right, and a tall, black oak wardrobe to the left. Leaving the center empty save for a single pedestal covered in cream colored cloth. \"We are ready, ladies,\" Avir instructed abruptly. Elora gave a puzzled look to her companion as there was no one else in the room with them aside from the maid of honor herself. Feyre remembered a few dark elves were with her when they had met, but now... It had seemed like they just simply vanished. \n\n\"Oh~ i'm so excited!\" A frivolous voice beckoned from behind. When Feyre turned her head to look, she found nothing but the same objects that the room held, no person in sight to be found. Soon however, a shadow bellowed, and out stepped an elven woman of similar features to Avir Nalvaci. Her face was identical, save for the smile that painted her dark purple lips. \"Who are we dressing today? Are they for the Queen?\" \n_ _\n\nStopping a moment, the new maid fell silent once her eyes located Feyre. The elven woman's pupils expanded in shock at the sight of her, although Feyre only assumed it was because her dress was not fitted properly. Without warning, the drow approached her. Slinking her hands through Feyre's hair as she pulled it back enough to observe her perfectly round, human ears. A gasp played from the woman's lips, as she couldn't tell just What The young girl was just yet. She spent a while looking Feyre over before Avir had cut her time short, clapping her hands together for more maids to assemble. \"Come now, we have work to do.\"\n\nThey appeared through the cracks from slivers of darkness, just as the first one had. But while Avir solidified into a tangible form, these drow remained mostly made of shadow, their features barely discernible, save for their loose, flowing midnight gowns. They remained silent when they reached for Feyre, and she didn't fight them– As there was nothing to fight them with, and nowhere to run. The hands that clasped around the human's forearms were cool but solid-as if the shadows were a coating, a second skin.\n\nThe dark elves wasted no time as they brought Feyre towards the portable bath and stripped her naked, something she herself was still getting akin to. Even in silence, they bathed her gently, much like the maids back in Gantrick. Unlike these maids however, Feyre didn't feel comfortable enough to strike up a conversation. Silence floated in the air, along with the sloshing of bathwater, before the second maid who had arrived finally blurted out the elephant in the room. \"Miss Feyre, What are you?\" \n_ _" }, { "author": "Feyre \| Prisoner of Gantrick", "message": "Looking to Elora for guidance, the young girl surveyed the many faces now staring back at her before she sheepishly answered. \"I.. I'm just a human,\" Feyre began, the steam from her bath now beginning to run cold. Expressions of disbelief and confusion washed over the dark elves, only to vanish into their neutral, lifeless state once more. Feyre felt as though she had said something wrong, and when looking back to her friend, Elora simply offered a weary smile and shrugged. Perhaps they didn't believe her, and if questioned further, maybe Feyre didn't even believe herself..\n\nAfter the bathing was over, Avir instructed her maids to set Feyre up near the golden vanity to sit and dry off while she looked for the best garment for their new project. Once her body was completely dry, their next step was jarring to say the least. Feyre eyed two of the maids curiously as they came back into the room with buckets of paint, black and blue swirling within the tin can. Atop the vanity soon appeared a series of brushes, all different tip and thickness sizes. \"What is this for?\" Feyre asked, curiosity filling her soft spoken tone. The maid of honor simply waved a hand from afar, not bothering to look at the human as she spoke, \"You must be presented, represented respectfully at that.\" \n\nWeary of just what she was in for, Feyre watched as two elven women closed in on each side of her. Dipping their bristles into black paint, and before she knew it, they were painting her fair skin.\n_ _\n\nTheir brushes were unbearably cold and ticklish, their shadowy grips firm when Feyre wriggled. Things only worsened when they painted more intimate parts of the poor girl, and it was an effort to keep from kicking one of them in the face– A reflex she knew all too well. They offered no explanation for why, no words of comfort aside from Elora or the single cheery maid. Even if Feyre were to flee, there was nowhere to escape to, Not without King Alyus finding out. So, the human stopped demanding answers, stopped fighting back, and let them finish.\n\nFrom the neck up, the pure blood was regal: her face was adorned with cosmetics-rouge on her lips, a smearing of gold dust on the eyelids. Kohl lined Feyre's eyes, and her long thick hair was coiled around a small golden diadem embedded with lapis lazuli. But from the neck down, she was a heathen god's plaything. The design of the paint that the dark elves weaved onto Feyre covered very inch of her skin. Trailing in and out of creases in her skin much like the shadows that danced within the room itself. And once the blue-black paint had dried, they placed Feyre in a gauzy white dress.\n\nIf you could call it a dress It was little more than two long shafts of gossamer, just wide enough to cover the human's breasts, pinned at each shoulder with gold brooches. The sections flowed down to a jeweled belt slung low across her hips, where they joined into a single piece of fabric that hung between her legs and to the floor. It barely covered Feyre, and from the cold air on her skin, she knew that most of her backside was left exposed. Shocked settled in the pure bloods face as she realized that This Was all she was to wear in meeting the Queen– Alyus.\n_ _\n\nAnother cold breeze caressing Feyre's bare skin was enough to kindle her rage. The two drow ignoring her demands to be clothed in something else, their impossibly shadowed faces veiled from any emotion. \"Y-You can't be serious,\" She began, whipping her head around to face the maid of honor. \"I can't go out looking like this- Please.. There has to be something else.\" Avir settled in beside Feyre before directing her attention back towards the large vanity mirror. Placing her head low, aligning it with the humans, the elven woman stared right into Feyre's eyes as she spoke, \"You will be marvelous, Feyre. Trust me. It has been far too long that we have been able to present the Queen with a rare beauty such as yourself, sending you out in anything else would be foolish.\"\n\nIce wrapped around the human's stomach as the realization settled in. There was no backing out of this now, and by the sounds of it, Feyre had to make the most of her appearance for a Queen she knew little about. Flickering baby blues teetered between herself and Elora through the mirror, hoping to wager just what her friend must think. By the matching expression weighing on her guard's face however, Elora didn't know what to think either. Now, it was just a matter of waiting for the time where Feyre would be escorted to the Queen... And the King.\n\|\| Song: Test Me by Melanie Martinez \|" }, { "author": "The Fable Keeper", "message": "Photo description + dark elves & Feyre's face claim" } ]	728	5,430
413	2023-09-20	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Zaknafein Aan'ordel Aan'allein", "message": "The Lazarothi air was not normally so warm this early. Sunlight in streaks filtered down from above into the castle courtyard. Zaknafein had been up before sunrise, and his exercises had long been complete before this early morning that was his alone. In the apartments of Gaulven Castle, there were more courtyards than one - and his sanctum was a small affair, centered on a weeping willow that hung low over a set of two curved stone benches, ringed with flower banks that had yet to bloom. The smell of dew and plant life filled the yard.\n\nZaknafein Aan'ordel Aan'allein wielded not his swords, but a trowel as he knelt beneath the weeping willow, focused on his work. Two Lazarothi soldiers, men he had served with at least a hundred years, were posted at both entrances to the small garden, clothed in plate armor, bearing spears. It would not do to be caught unawares while digging up the soil.\n\nHis silver hair was drawn back, away from his face, and as it was traditional for many drow to show skin, he wore only sturdy gardening gloves and brown canvas pants at the moment. Jagged scars crisscrossed the dark gray skin of a well-muscled back. Beside him, a pile of tulip bulbs arranged neatly in a sort of pyramid - it was his hope that they would survive the first frost, and bloom as they proceeded through the warmer months. \n\nThe blade dug into the dark soil, and he set it asidein a small heap before carefully placing a bulb in its place. Blue-violet eyes studied the round root for any imperfections - signs of blight were to be immediately discarded. But it seemed to be healthy - and soon, he gently planted it within the earth, continuing his regular row of the flowers, and swept the soil back over it again, taking care not to pack the bulb too tightly. It would not do if it had no chance to sprout.\n\nIt was mornings like these that allowed him to relax in what little time he had alone..." }, { "author": "Mithanya Runacri", "message": "Mithanya had been awake for hours though this was normal for her. Often times she went out into the gardens to think or roamed around the castle. Every once in a while she would even take Nimira out with a horse from the stable to go out for a ride. Tonight Mithanya had gotten back from doing just that. Her hair still fresh from the rushing in the wind nearly 20 minuets ago. Mithanya after putting her horse back in the royal stables desired to make her way into the library, of course this meant she had to pass by lower courtyards first. \n\nAs she strode by the fresh smell of dew in the first lower courtyard hit her nostrils. Suddenly Mithanya stopped mid step however. Minthaya's mind was mostly preoccupied, she needed to know more about that old temple and the symbols adorned inside of it were something she still had even after 80 years little information on. She had chosen to spend another morning in the library to see what more she could find on them when a thought hit her like a giant hurdling a rock into a humans face, something that almost made her chuckle a little. Then with a half turn an almost confused expression would exist on her face as she realized that instead of the library, maybe she should go back? She had not entered it again since that series of nights, and for good reason. Looking down at Nimira she almost always trusted her companions opinion on her own thoughts, acting as if it always knew what she was thinking. \n\nWith a low sigh and a eye roll this also annoyed her, she had just put the horse up in the stable and knew she had to meet sister soon at noon. Mithanya was expected and had already gotten chewed out for missing the last meeting she was suppose to attend.. Looking back down to Nimira.. \"What do you think Nimira? Could going back hold the answers I still need?\" Crossing her arms and looking ahead she began to slowly walk back to the stables almost instantly forgetting about her impending meeting at noon... Again \"Its bee\n\nN almost 80 years..\"" }, { "author": "Elerra Icharyd Hand of the Queen", "message": "The meeting had been a disaster if Ashira's report was anything to go by. Since the woman trusted the Matron's recounting of the situation that did not bode well for the main players. In the days following the summit she found herself shadowing the Matron in hopes of being solicited for advice. The Gantrick King was an unknown that they could not afford to underestimate and she feared the young Matron might do just that. It was not that her judgement was not sound, rather, the girl could be soft. Too soft. \n\nAs she rounded the corner to catch a moment of fresh air under a clouded sky a groan was forcibly suppressed at the other occupants of the space. Speaking of too soft. The girl's council was full of men but not all of them were like Zaknafein Aan'allein. He had fought valiantly in the name of their Matron, that she could not deny and it was because of that shared loyalty that for the most part she left him to his own devices. Competence in his role was not something he lacked. \n\nEven better was the young Princess who seemed to be muttering to herself in the corner. That or her pet which was perhaps simply a reflection of her youth. The mind of a child was always full of wonders. She wished it was not her job to care for the inner workings of the princess' mind, but serving as the Matron's hand meant knowing all she could of any who would interact with Ashira. \n\nThe garden was nice. Not that she would say as much in present company, but in the recent decades since the late Matron's passing she found herself anticipating the first few frost-facing flowers as a sign of spring to come. \n\n\"Zaknefein,\" She said flatly to the man's back, hoping to spend a moment longer in the warming air. She would not speak further until he showed due respect and turned to listen." }, { "author": "Zaknafein Aan'ordel Aan'allein", "message": "The sound of his name striking his ears was an unwelcome one. His guards had made no sound whatsoever - neither had they hit the floor dead nor called out to announce a visitor. Why was it that the snakes of the world could not leave him to a few minutes of peace in his garden? Such was the way of Lazaroth, he knew - men had little time to themselves, and it was subject to being broken into by any of the matrons who chose to do so.\n\nEven so, this was a particularly poor stroke of luck. He knew the voice that called 'Zaknafein', and the tone that followed it. She was very accustomed to that voice of command, and expected to be obeyed without delay, lest the whip of fire be deployed to meet any hesitant servant's skin. In a fluid motion, he set aside the trowel and the bulb he had picked up, making his way to his feet and turning on his heel to bow respectfully to the Hand of the Queen.\n\n\"Good morning, Matron Elerra.\" He kept his eyes downcast, though on the turn he had spotted someone lingering in the hallway - and it would be no small punishment if he was caught not acknowledging her presence, should she desire him to do so. \"Your Highness.\" His voice was projected, slightly louder, in order to reach the princess's ears. \n\nHe had drawn not one of the despised women, but two to the garden. His garden, his place of quiet - but the alternative was worse than the break in his peace, and Zaknafein simply had to bow respectfully, bear a polite expression, and obey the matrons as they wished. It grated on him every time. \n\n\"What do you require of me, Matron?\" He asked, tone quiet and respectful. No glimmer of the malice that raged inside of him showed on the strong-featured face of the Grand Marshal as he faced his 'betters', and sought to make proper deference to them. In times when he felt he would show some hint of it, he had memories to comfort him - of a sword sliding into flesh, of the chaos of the battlefield, and the secret of Matron Gyela's death." }, { "author": "Mithanya Runacri", "message": "Mithanya's head snapped and turned when she was called out and addressed, she had completely not been paying attention to either of them as she thought. It just now dawned on her that Elerra had just walked right by her without a word. Taking a moment to sort her thoughts, this began irk her. Eyeing the situation more closely she gave a slight nod in acknowledgement to Zaknafein, Mithanya motioned for Elerra to continue as her eyes shifted from the Marshal to Elerra with a flick of her eyelids.\n\nWith a low irritated sigh it seems that her personal endeavors would have to wait until after this upcoming meeting with her sister. Nimira shifted to the left as she circled and sat down, though only partially as she watched and listened, studying their tone and actions. Slowly and calmly Mithanya put her hand out palm down motioning for Nimira to relax a little more. Taking a few steps into the courtyard now her gaze did not turn the entire time, now mostly curious to see what was happening. As she took her first step the lovely cool breeze of the morning hit her, further enhancing the smell... 'Yes this is nice for once, but it is so not like the forest The pine smells soo... Nice.'\n\nThe sound of thunder could be heard in the far distance to the east. Apparently with the morning would potentially come some rain. Now she just had to go back outside, who didn't love riding in the rain? A moment later she noticed the bulb on the ground. 'That time already?'" } ]	440	2,065
418.5	2023-09-24	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Zaknafein Aan'ordel Aan'allein", "message": "Zaknafein was glad of the simple fact that his thoughts were his own. If she could hear his thoughts as her sister could, he doubted he would last very long. But such as things were, he could think what he liked about the spoiled and petulant child that called herself a princess. Where was her regal manner? Where was the air of command that fit true royalty like a glove? She had become skilled in some magics, and thought that was equivalent to wisdom.\n\nA hundred years old, and still a child by her expression.\n\nWhat was her sister to do with the impetuous thing? A proper education had already been offered her in the ways of the court - and arrogance had clung to her line no other, as if she was blind to her sister's plight. Not that he expected less from a matron, of course; they were well practiced in the art of blindness to pain or protest. There was something growing in his mind about a proper teaching experience for the little girl.\n\nA glance was spared at the Hand of the Queen, whose eyes would surely catch any such designs. There was a way to make a subtle pass, and see if he could test her character in his own way, but such plans required the patience of decades and decades more, and his words would have to sow the idea long before it could take root. Perhaps he had time. He would need patience.\n\n\"If you wish to see the flowers in the courtyard, Your Highness,\" He bowed his head respectfully, tone even as could be as he made the proper deferences to a woman of higher stature. \"I am afraid they will take time to bloom. I am planting the earliest of them, and they will not grow petals for some time yet.\"" }, { "author": "Elerra Icharyd Hand of the Queen", "message": "Oh how it irked her when the Marshal thought himself suited for interfering with the Runacri sisters. Yes, the late Matron had chosen him to lead her armies and she had counseled Ashira to maintain him within this post for good reason. However, in her experience the man still had much to learn about court life. That he would answer such an unasked question from the princess was silly to say the least. There was little she could do to influence the man that she knew. Therefore no direction but forward existed. \n\nThen there was the matter of the princess. Though Zaknafein had never been the most subtle when hiding his true feelings of others, the princess surely honed the skill at this point in her life. There had been many moments since the late Matron's passing that she had contemplated the motives of the younger Runacri sister, however, the girl never came to her elder for council. Had she taken an interest in learning from her elders in the way of her sister there could be more said for her capacity to deal with matters of state. As it stood there was little the Queen would wish to involve her sister in. One of their most important lessons had to do with unknowns, and at the present moment the princess remained unknown. \n\nThere was the offhanded gesture she had offered, as though assuming that she would wait to continue until the Princess had spoken which assumed that the girl had been included in the conversation in the first place. The girl always took far too much interest in matters that were of no concern to her. Of course, it was good to have concern for the workings of her sister's government. However, given that she had yet displayed the aptitude required to be trusted with any information of importance such conversations were not yet for her ears.\n\n\"Let us have a word soon regarding the recent events to the East,\" She said cooly, eyes flicking momentarily to the princess as she gestured then back to the man. \n\n\n\"Your Highness,\" She continued, swi\n\nVeling to face the girl. \"I trust you are well, it is wonderful to see you out and about.\"" }, { "author": "Mithanya Runacri", "message": "Mithanya found it funny at the thought that the Elerra seemingly assumed that Mithanya had not known about what was going on within and on the outside or borders of the kingdom, quite the contrary. Mithanya had a hand in even other kingdoms disputes. Instead of speaking however, she kept quite and gave an innocent smile. Mithanya had spies everywhere in Lazaroth, within the council, within the streets, within the walls of the castle even. Little spiders literally, whispered in her ear every day and were ever watchful. Never would she let harm openly come to her sisters or to the people of Lazaroth without it being her own will. She trusted no one, ever. That was one of her greatest strengths, and greatest weaknesses. \"I had indeed come by to see if any flowers had blossomed yet, It appears you are right that I am to early. Shame. I intended to bring some to my sister during my visit with her here in the next hour.\" \n\nYet, the hand of the queen was a excellent Matron, Mithanya knew she was loyal to her sister without a doubt. It was one of the many reasons she had been chosen for her role as hand. She respected her strength, her loyalty and her skill and ever endless pursuit of protection for her sister... Zaknafein, a loyal and strong soldier, yet a male. He was lucky to be in his position. Something Mithanya both detested and admired as a result. Of course she watched every member of the council, let alone anyone within the walls of the castle. She made it her own directive to ensure that no one could ever threaten Lazarothi royalty, the things she has done or had done to suspected traitors and 'evildoers' ... Were unspeakable. \n\n\"I have been well, how about yourself Elerra? It is good you have come across actually, I had a question for you if you could spare a moment sometime. When you can please come to my quarters.\" The storm and thunder were growing closer, it may just rain soon.. Lovely Mithanya thought. Mithanya folded her hands into her ro\n\nBes as if she was relaxing with them in a more formal manner." }, { "author": "Zaknafein Aan'ordel Aan'allein", "message": "He was inclined to think that she did indeed know how early or late flowers bloomed - if she had shown that level of thinking. Mithanya was not the sort of person to wait on such petty things as nature or proper preparation, which was a good reason to avoid her entirely if given the chance. Preparation for battle was often more impactful than the ebb and flow of the battle itself. With the right information and setup, a battle played itself out.\n\n\"I am afraid it is much too early in the season, but had flowers been able to bloom, you would have them. Please give Matron Dhakashira my best when you see her, Your Highness.\" Zaknafein's head bowed politely in deference to her, making sure there was no excuse for punishment in any move he made. Punishment came from being caught, and Zaknafein knew well how to cover his tracks. What Ashira had to do with her younger sister, he could not say - and perhaps that was a fabrication. She did not really require Mithanya for much, and it was not as if the girl was useful. But it was her word, and as such was beyond contestation.\n\nHis gaze refocused on Matron Elerra, the Hand. Being summoned by a girl that knew not what she did was not likely to sit well with her. Perhaps Mithanya thought herself intimidating, but that was not nearly enough to make it so. There was opportunity here, he thought - opportunity to begin sowing enough discord that he might not have to raise a finger himself.\n\n\"We will discuss them soon, Matron Elerra.\" He agreed amiably, making sure that he repeated her words well enough for Mithanya to catch on should she be paying any whit of attention. Information was being withheld from her, and what might have been a respectful comment was now a trap laid..." }, { "author": "Elerra Icharyd Hand of the Queen", "message": "Control of one's facial muscles was necessary when dealing with those unable to handle their own tongues. A less skilled woman might have allowed for a slight twitching at the corner of her eye at the Princess' disrespect. She was a practiced speaker, though, and her features remained unchanged at the question being returned her way. Summoning her to her quarters like an errand girl or lady's maid? Who did she think she was? Of course, she served the Matron and the Kingdom of Lazaroth, but that did not include running to the personal chambers of the Princess to take meetings. \n\n\"I am also well, but busy all the same. I've found this moment to seek the solace of the garden and arrange one meeting but a good deal of my time is spent within the confines of my office where I am able to receive important missives.\" Perhaps if she explained the reasoning to the girl she might prevent such a mistake again in the future. \"I would be happy to give you council, however, I must ask you to come see me at your convenience so that we do not lose any valuable time.\" \n\nTheir talk of timing and flowers only mildly interested her. If only there had been a moment alone to talk with the Marshall. If only the girl would take a more active role in the Lazaroth Monarchy. It would be nice to have another capable of at least interacting with nobles and royalty from neighboring kingdoms but as it stood Ashira even mostly remained silent. That had not proven to be an issue, however. In fact, more had been learned than told as far as she was aware. \n\n\"I suppose I must get back to it then,\" She said, expression still flat. \"Your Highness,\" She said with a nod in the girl's direction. \"Marshall,\" Another nod, this time with a moment of eye contact. Before anything further could be said she had turned, hoping to find sanctuary within the walls of her study as Zaknafein had sought his in the garden." }, { "author": "Mithanya Runacri", "message": "Slightly annoyed with Elerra, she did not catch the hint in the air that Mithanya gave in her tone, it was not an order, but an invitation. Something rarely given from Mithanya. If she did not want information, then Mithanya was happy to act alone in her stead. You see, Mithanya was happy with her role in things. She had influence, she had power and she had it all in secret. If she wanted a life she had but issue the command, there were few her fingers could not reach. No one would threaten Lazarothi royalty and her people, not while she lived. This was a vow she swore, the only one. The one she would forever uphold.\n\nMithanya unbeknownst to anyone short of those close to her knew what she truly did at night. Why she was always up, why she rarely slept. Mithanya often spoke at night, her involvement in politics you see, ran in the shadows of Lazaroth. She had infected it at the root and not just the worthless highborn who thought themselves untouchable. Members of their enlisted military drew to her words, shadowy businesses that had been here years existed because they worked in tandem with her now, hell she even had half the castle guard in her whispers. Every single one of them were practically radicals in their feverous pursuant loyalty to the crown and half now put in place by Mithanya herself. They were prepared to cut down anyone who would dare to threaten the queen or crown of Lazarothi.\n\nMithanya's tone had changed completely now, a total one eighty. Instead of the casual weak near young adult voice she portrayed to them both normally, she portrayed something creepy and dark, something now very nefarious. It was as if a evil voice had spoken up in a dark room at night when you believed you were alone. \"It is a shame, even with all your resources you are still blind. I expected better of you Elerra.\" Also turning to leave and walk out. At least Mithanya knew how she felt and what she must do. \"It seems I must simply handle it myself, again.\" Nimira quickly dots up to leave and follow in suit..." } ]	424.5	2,511
695.333333	2024-03-23	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Queen Dhakashira Runacri \| Matriarch of Wolves", "message": "While they walked an icy feeling blossomed at the base of her skull. It crept along her spine, slowly, the chilling feeling settling in her gut as she slowed to a halt. Ashira inhaled deeply, calmly, trying to call out for a companion before it happened. It was uncontrollable though, provoked by something she didn't yet understand. The familiar feeling swept over her as the Hym materialized at her side. Her nostrils flared, with clench fists she fought to cage the creature. It was obvious it was not the only source of her present discomfort, however. She turned a narrowed and suspicious gaze on Vierna's guest, preparing to tear into his mind. \n\nThe Hym.\n\nIts emotions were intertwined with her own, and she could feel the fear zing through her like the shock of frigid water. Reluctantly ripping her gaze from the stranger she watched it cower. The beast that tormented her, chipped away at her mind, weakened her will, now hid behind her rigid frame. She spun on the clear cause, her features contorting into a fierce expression that shattered the moment her eyes met his. \n\nFear And Fire.\n\nThe glow was like flames licking at him as the Hym spoke, its words echoing in her mind. Then something pressed upon her, fought to smother the matriarch, to bend her spine and will. She fought, teeth grinding, nails biting into flesh. Her unwanted pet collapsed in on itself willingly, folding over in a deep bow before returning to the safety of her mind. She hissed, jaw clenched, gaze unflinching. Her eyes flared bright with defiance, but a spark of something Weak Glittered in her amber hues. Then, it was over. \n\nThe weighted feeling lifted, dread snaking from her stomach and up her back in a faint shiver. Vierna's voice dragged her from a flood of thoughts and she promptly collected herself. Her expression was once more composed, calm. It did not reflect the way she felt. \n_ _\n\nThe duchess had taken notice of their exchange, but her reaction was that of someone who had not witnessed its entirety. As she spoke Henryk's name Ashira watched him carefully, a few pounding beats of her heart passing before she replied.\n\n\"I trust your judgment, Matron Argith. If you feel I should hear him speak then so be it.\" It was all she could manage as she sorted through the onslaught of feelings vying for control. The matriarch raised a surprisingly steady hand, darkness followed. It swirled and writhed into a large frame, and at its center rested the faintly blurred view of a study. It was empty, the only hint of life a fire crackling its warm welcome at the trio.\n\nAshira stepped out of the courtyard and into the warmth of the castle. It did little to remedy the gooseflesh that had spread along her bare skin. She permitted herself a single, deep sigh before the pair followed. \n\nCalm. Collected. Controlled.\n\nThey'd find the room comfortably furnished, almost cozy. A table of refreshments awaited them. Ashira had no appetite and stepped past the temptation of teas and treats, they seemed silly now. Preparations made for different circumstances. She stood by the fire, her back turned to its safety and heat while her eyes found Henryk. There was expectation in her gaze as she awaited an explanation of either their original purpose or the situation that had just transpired." }, { "author": "Doctor Henryk", "message": "The Doctor had been asked to introduce himself by Lady Vierna, and the Queen had accepted to prospect to listen to the man speak. Before he could speak freely, the trio had been moved from one point to another— now inside the castle, the warmth of fire greeting them, it felt better than being outside in the cold.\n\nHe studied the queen closely with inquisitive eyes. Looking upon her bear skin, her silvery hair— she truly captured Lazarothi beauty. She carried a visage of a matriarch certainly, but he pondered if she truly carried the stature befit of a monarch. Yet, Vierna seemed to deeply respect her— So of course he would too. He desired to keep his head on his neck after all, especially after the visions which he and presumably the Queen experienced. He saw how her body was beginning to bend, almost like she was repulsed by Henryk's presence. No— she was being made to bend due to Ulmos's will. What Henryk struck odd was how neither pair chose to address the demons in the room.\n\nAlthough in the comfort of her study, he knew the Queen's castle had ears. Vierna hadn't realized it herself, but Henryk knew how much danger he was potentially in right now.\n\nThere was a gaze of expectation. From not only Vierna, but Queen Dhakashira too. They _both_ wanted to hear the Half-Human Doctor speak. Clearing his throat, he would speak— and speak clearly he would.\n\nProviding a slight bow of his head to the Queen first, lapsing a hand over his chest, where his heart was located, \"It is my honour, your benevolence, to formally meet you.\" He had spoken thusly, before raising his upper body to meet with Dhakasira's gaze. \"I am a man of Findaran origin. I had the luxury of meeting the Duchess by happenstance, months back. I came into her employ to provide foreign advice, as well as work on projects involving medicine in Syvathere.\" Henryk had briefly explained— facts which had been true. Syvathere had received a boon of improved health ever since Henryk began his projects there. Something that had definitely reached the ears of people in high places— especially for the fact it was a _man_ and a Halfling at that performing these feats. \n\nHenryk's chest felt heavy, as he sensed he hadn't said enough— no, there was more. It was obvious Dhakashira wished for an explanation as to what transpired in the cold of the courtyard. Doctor Henryk released a weighty sigh, as he would put on a brave face, willing to be the one to address what happened between the pair. He knew she had a shadow latched onto her, and thus was certain he wasn't going to make a baseless accusation— or so he had hoped.\n\n\"If I may speak freely, my Queen... I believe you and I are possessed by great evil.\" Henryk spoke boldly— something unheard of before the audience of the highest form nobility. \"I don't know what it is that has attached itself to you. Merely that it is a _shadow._\" \n\nDoctor Henryk must've gone mad. How could a man— no— how could a mere Halfling accuse the Queen in such a manner?\n\nTo the Lazarothi Queen however; the fact the Doctor was able to not only suspect but guess the sort of evil which has tied itself would only speak on the fact what the two experienced was in fact true— A meeting destined by fate, perhaps?\n\nHenryk looked away from Vierna, as he kept his eyes locked onto Dhakashira, certain that the pair both knew what they saw within one another. Evil." }, { "author": "Duchess Vierna Argith", "message": "A study befitting a Queen, and what an assortment of treats for them to dine on! Of course, any speck of food was a gesture. A proceeding by the servants, but never an invitation. If the Queen found no time for a snack, then so too would her guests. Discussion came first, and upon Ashira's approval of listening to Henryk, the Queen would earn a smile and nod of Vierna's own. Eyes darting to her desired Fiancé, it was all up to him now to sell himself like all forms of Nobility. Impress the Queen, a complexity that only grew worse as their secret clash continued to lurk. And in her ignorance, Vierna remained ever the victim to greater plots. \n\nHenryk started well, that much seemed true. The Duchess did well to hide her admiration for such steps, and so too whatever blunders she considered from his words. To state honestly his origin in Findara, it was perhaps bold but needed. The innocent smile of the Duchess kept close to hiding her true thoughts, but so clearly was she observing the very looks of the Matriarch. Anything, to grasp at the thoughts of her Queen. An effort, so fruitless. And just as the fire sparked up, warming the Queen and her guests, so too did Henryk's words. Boldness, brought to sudden lunacy.\n.\n\nHenryk's next words came after that longer pause, typically room for an explanation but one that Vierna never imagined. \n\n_Possessed by a great evil. A Shadow._\n\nEven the tightest of composure fell flat as Henryk's words came out at the presence of the Matriarch herself. Lips squirming to part, narrowed eyes spying confusion and concern. Alarms, ringing violently in her head. What was he doing? Whatever did he mean? She had knowledge of the tales of Ulmos at his mind, but to accuse the Queen? It puzzled her greatly, and so expecting a bout of wrath from the Matriarch in reply. A dream, squandered. Ambitions, crushed in her thoughts. \n\nShe had to interject, only she struggled to find the words. The perfect path to divert such a topic. It was too late, how could they recover? \n\n_\"I.. Henryk? - Your Majesty, I- Heh.. What?\" Vierna's eyes darted directly to Henryk while she spoke, a look of alarm desperately driven on finding the reasoning for this outburst! Yet, Henryk never seemed to look back. Only upon the Queen, who he so badly accused of mutual suffering.\n\nGods, what had he done?" } ]	727	2,086
300	2023-10-08	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Tsar Alyus Archaius", "message": "Alyus remained quiet for the time being, the queen's apology meaningless as he took no offense to her words. He knew what she meant, and never in their many years of knowing one another had either fallen on the other's bad side. Alyus trusted Dhakashira, it was why he was here now requesting her aid in this issue regarding Feyre. The king's eyes widened, though he remained quiet as he watched Feyre's blood react in such a volatile way. Ashira's question was one Alyus could not answer truthfully, as he did not know. Tomira did not say what specific magics she used upon the human's blood. \"I cannot say for certain, though based on my confidant's reaction and urgency, I imagine so.\"\n\nThe bear king's crystal blue eyes turned a greyish purple as flame enveloped them. Watching with baited breath to see just how Feyre's blood would react to different magic, Alyus could feel his muscles tense. Bracing himself somewhat, neither he nor Ashira truly knew what would happen the more her blood was poked and prodded. The only way to find out was to test it's limits, and so Alyus fell silent as he watched Ashira work her magic on Feyre's blood." }, { "author": "The Tale Weaver", "message": "As the dark elf queen toyed with the thick substance held within the vial, each magic only seemed to agitate the blood further. All magic applied to the ichor caused that same white lightning to crackle and pop wildly, but strangely the only magic that caused little visual reaction was Ashira's attempt to delve into the blood as if she were reading an individual's mind. Lightning still coursed up and down the vial, some stray bolts even occasionally striking the queen's dark blue skin, but none causing a significant amount of pain. Visions would appear within Dhakashira's mind- each of an eerie familiarity.\n\nAshira would recall Caleesi's visions, they way they flickered and change with such rapid intencity it was difficult to make out just what the Grandmistress was seeing. The same could be said now behind the queen's eyes, as if she were teleporting from location to location within milliseconds. A throne room of blue, white and gold- a terrible fire- was that a... A manger? A star- surely what Ashira saw was a star or an orb of some kind within that throne room. Fire swallowing everything- The visions repeated more until finally stopping the moment Ashira stopped her spell. Thankfully it did not wear the queen down as the vision from Sorevelle had. To Alyus, nothing seemed strange while Ashira had these visions invade her mind.\n\nMarks from the crackling energy not only covered Ashira, but Alyus as well- and the desk that separated the two..." }, { "author": "Tsar Alyus Archaius", "message": "Each new magic caused Feyre's blood to react more angrily to being prodded. Alyus squinted his eyes, the white lightning quite bright to his light blue eyes. Pain struck his face and arms, but they were like small pinpricks, barely noticeable. Soon enough, it ended, and Alyus found himself taking in a large breath of relief that it was all over. The bear king had no magic of his own, and oftentimes felt defenseless against it when in the presence of someone so magically powerful. The more he thought about it the more Alyus was thankful Dhakashira was an ally and not an enemy. Meeting the queen's eyes, the beastwalker hardened his gaze as he noticed the marks the two seemed to share.\n\n\"We can't know for certain, and you know that.\" Alyus raised his voice ever so slightly. The emotion in Ashira's voice as she spoke his name reminded him of his mother, which was the exact reason he became so defensive. \"She's not dormant, she's not- she's a living, breathing Person.\" Alyus felt at a loss for words. The feelings he was trying to convey turning to ash in his mouth as he tried to speak them. Silence filled the air between the two rulers, Alyus's eyes escaping Ashira's for the time being. Was this embarrassment or frustration in his chest? Perhaps both. There was immense desire alongside them to protect Feyre no matter the cost. After all, he had promised her he would time and time again.\n\nHe'd not be proven a liar." } ]	314	900
375.8	2021-12-16	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Maeve", "message": "Dawn had just begun to creep up over the tall, mighty trees within Lerwick. Each yellow, brown and orange leaf seemingly glowing to life once the sun kissed each individual one. Birds that could be seen fluttering around overhead within the cloudy blue skies chirped and sang as they danced around; picking a partner to huddle up with on a branch that overlooked a large swimming pond below. All seemed peaceful. Calm. Perhaps even Too Calm. There were no townspeople in sight, nor were there hardly any animals to be seen within the small clearing.\n\nJust simple bliss. \n Though not for long.\n\nRustling from nearby bushes cut the pleasant atmosphere like a loud crescendo. A harsh Stomp Padded out from the clearing to reveal a formidable creature- Towering over on all fours, a large, pitch black dire wolf limped its way from behind the bush it must have been hiding in. Blood trickled down the animal's massive left paw and bib, leaving a small puddle trail behind as it lingered over towards the pond- It's red eyes brooding around silently. The birds within the trees seemingly screeched in warning to one another as they fled from the area, taking flight high above the skies to migrate some place else. Though, none of it seemed to bother the giant creature one bit.\n\nSauntering slowly towards the edge of the water, the dire wolf stretched down it's neck and took a small drink before letting out a soft, guttural sigh. After a moment of standing still, the animal then strided into the pond. Slow and steady, the wolf floated into the deep in; hovering around with it's head tilted up above comfortably. While it looked very uncommon for a creature such as a wolf to willingly heed themselves into open waters, this one seemed rather content. And after a long moment, the hell hound simply.. Went under." }, { "author": "Sir Rikard Van Dahl, Fulminatus", "message": "Following, though perhaps unwittingly, was a large man in armor. \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.\n\nHis eyes were a sea-green shade, his hair a tawny brown. 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.\n\nHe made his way to the edge of the water, relaxed onto his back, and began sunning himself. The cold blood of a crocodile lent him a fondness for sunny days and time spent by the water - even if he could maintain thermal homeostasis otherwise. He was a shifter, after all. Not simply an animal..." }, { "author": "Maeve", "message": "Had the dire wolf felt unsure of it's surroundings, it most likely wouldn't have gone into the pond where others could see. The hellhound had smelled something a bit off the moment it had reached the pond, but chose not to care as much. If something were to attack, it would have done so already. Unbeknownst to anyone however, this wasn't just any wolf. The moment the large creature dived under, staying there for quite some time- the blackness that bobbed out soon after wasn't one of an animal. \n\nGracefully breaching from the water's pull, a woman was now seen standing up within the shallow end. Her long black hair was a similar color to the wolf that had first entered- its shiny, silky glow shimmering from the water's reflection and the sun bouncing off. However, if it wasn't a give away this woman was a shapeshifter.. Her hands that dragged through her scalp moved past the top of her head to reveal those large black fluffy ears. They shook and twitched the water off slightly as the woman stretched her arms above her head slowly- revealing her gentle, water kissed pale skin. \n\nThere was a tinge of pain the moment the shapeshifter stretched, the large gash still curling around her arm. Sighing softly, the dire wolf inspected the wound. Her jaw tensing as she remembered just how she got it. Though, her thoughts were quickly caught off at the sound of metal clanking behind her. With the flutter of her ears first- the shapeshifter whipped her head around to find someone sitting beside the edge of the pond. Her eyes narrowed a moment, one red one light blue. And as the two would seemingly lock gazes, the woman finally spoke up. \n\n\"Come to watch the show, or pick a fight?\" \n\nThe tone in the wolf's voice was sour and blunt. Yet held a mysterious feel of curiosity and playfulness within it. Giving no mind to the watcher, the hellhound turned her head away once more as she went back to cleaning herself off. Ridding herself from dirt, mud and blood." }, { "author": "Sir Rikard Van Dahl, Fulminatus", "message": "Now, that was interesting. There were not a lot of instances in recent memory where he could recall a beautiful woman was underwater, waiting to pop up and surprise him. But here he was, and here she was. Rikard's grin widened as she spoke, a toothy sort of expression that spoke of good humor and the sense that he was enjoying himself. Tawny brown hair and green eyes were nothing to match the woman's seemingly porcelain skin and ebony hair, but he was fairly certain he wasn't the ugliest of men.\n\nEven so, it was striking that she was as beautiful as she turned out to be. It was quite a contrast from Ghorza in the tavern, though the former had her own style of beauty - athleticism and well-toned muscle as opposed to the delicate and graceful movements of Maeve.\n\n\"I came to sun myself near the pond. I must have missed the part when you went in, but considering the situation, I'm glad I was here for this part.\" He chuckled, a deep rumbling sound in the back of his throat that didn't seem Quite* In the realm of human possibility. He was laying on his back, propped up against a tree, and decided that the best way to relax was to catch a few rays in the forest.\n\n\"I won't say I'm Opposed* To the show, but I didn't come to fight. If I did, I'd be at a bar somewhere instead of out in nature. Nature doesn't put up much of a fight except when you're looking for food.\" He mused, scratching his shoulder with a gauntleted hand. \"I'm Rikard. Nice to meet you.\"" }, { "author": "Maeve", "message": "\"Is that so?\" The stranger called out intriguingly, a small smile of her own forming on the corners of her mouth as she listened on. Usually, the shapeshifter was used to one of two things. One being always thrown into a fight, whether it was intentional or not. And two, cat called in her human form everywhere she went. However, the wolf didn't mind, she was confident enough in her features to know when someone meant well or just wanted to see what was under her fur. With her bare back still turned, the woman slowly brought her long hair around her shoulder and began to wring it out. Given she had been stripped of her clothes from shifting, she allowed the water to hide the more Secluded Parts of her, along with the help of her hair to hide her chest. \n\nLooking back over her shoulder, the wolf raised a brow at the man's unique laugh; taking note of the reverberating hums in his throat. He wasn't a human, that much she could smell out. \"Well i'll be damned. A predator who doesn't want to fight. I suppose pretty boys like you have to keep their teeth in check, no?\" It was a bit of a sarcastic compliment, one that poked fun at the mans clad armor and well off appearance. People who seemed a bit on the royal side always rubbed the girl the wrong way, but perhaps it was just a personal preference. \n\nPulling her long, bushy tail up from the water, the shapeshifter shook it in the mans general direction playfully- sprinkling a mist of cool water his way. \"Spare a cloth or two, big guy?\" She asked, nodding towards his armor. Surely he had to be layered in something he could easily remove, otherwise, the shapeshifter would have to resort back to her four legged state. Those sharp eyes never left Rikard as she watched him, examining his visible scales and broad features that seemed a bit too uncanny. All of it made her more intrigued. And as she stood in wait, the wolf finally introduced herself.\n\n\"I'm Maeve, though the pleasure is all mine.\"" } ]	390	1,879
241.666667	2021-12-21	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Maeve", "message": "A gentle giggle escaped the young wolf's lips as she once again rolled her eyes and shook her head, a small smile creeping up soon after. Maeve appreciated the playful nature of Rikard, even if his jokes were just a bit too corny for her. Regardless, the offer he still held finally got the better of her. Glancing down at her pale arm, the crimson sight of fresh blood still making its way out from her skin caused her to let out a long sigh. And soon the shapeshifter found herself inching over towards the stranger as she held out her wounded forearm. \n\n\"Just.. Make sure i stay in Once Piece, no?\" Maeve teased, her heterochromatic eyes finding their way up towards his own. Being this close, the hellhound could make out the surprisingly soft human features of the crocodile's face. Tilting her head unknowingly, Maeve studied the mans armor, trying to piece together where or who he worked for. If any. After a long moment of contemplating the matter, she simply asked, \"Are you a royal guard, Rikard?\"\n\nA rather bland and straightforward question. Yet it was one that held a lot of curiosity. While no, it wasn't any of the wolf's business to know, she still had an act for being nosey. Maeve's tail swayed ever so slightly behind her as she continued to survey the knight's appearance, though there was no look of hatred or dislike on her face. Only questioning interest. It would be one of the first times a knight, let along a royal if that, who gave someone like her the time of day." }, { "author": "lapdoll", "message": "\|\| Sorry its so short and boring-" }, { "author": "Sir Rikard Van Dahl, Fulminatus", "message": "Well, she was laughing, which was a good sign. Better still was the fact that she was coming towards him, though they were already sitting pretty close to each other - and when she held out her arm, Rikard began to rummage through his bag, pulling out a few clean white bandage rolls and a small bottle of rubbing alcohol. \"This is going to sting a little.\" He murmured as he began to tend to her wounds, gently holding her arm as he poured the rubbing alcohol over the wound - which thankfully was clean from her bath - and began to wrap it securely in white bandages, staunching the bleeding and covering the wound so that nothing else could get inside it.\n\nHis hands were rather large, but the gauntleted fingers of the knight were only slightly clumsy, and they were steady at wrapping bandages, as if it was no new experience. \"All right, I think you'll stay in one piece for now, unless you want to go flailing around.\" He remarked, sitting back against the tree and admiring the neat handiwork of the bandage. She seemed less mysterious now that they had touched - more grounded, but still a work of art to behold.\n\n\"Yeah, I'm a royal guard.\" He confirmed readily. \"Sir Rikard Van Dahl, at your service. I didn't always start out that way, though. I was a commoner when I was a kid. Now I serve Prince Astalios. He's a pretty quiet guy, but he's tough as nails. I can't complain about the job. It also pays a lot more than running a general store, so I have that to be thankful for.\" He explained out loud. It wasn't very long ago that he was just some kid running around town causing trouble - and now, he was much more." } ]	337	725
505.3	2022-07-04	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Ser Edvard Eldebrand", "message": "It was another cold night. It'd been a cold night for the past two weeks, really. The temperature was rather consistent in Lerwick. It was somewhat warm during the day and freezing at night. The chill felt like it burned into the bone, turning the skeleton into ice able to crack at any liable moment. Edvard shrugged the cold off, though. He sat silently at the edge of the pond, for once not in his armor. It was a rare sight. He stood in peasant's clothing, usually worn underneath the plate. His sword still rested at his side, but he seemed rather off his guard. He stared solemnly into the pond, softly tossing small pebbles into the water from a small collection of rocks he held in his left hand. He didn't really know why he was here. It had started as some kind of stake-out. He thought the assassin might come back to Lerwick, and he'd catch her red-handed. But after the first week, he realized he wouldn't. He then told himself it was some kind of prayer ritual. That was a lie too. No gods were spoken to here. Now, Edvard simply sat. He wasn't quite sure of what to do, or even what to think about. There were far too many things on his mind. It felt like the world had swallowed him whole and he was simply left there, destitute and barren.\n\nHis thought slowly began to dribble out of his subconscious and into his mind. He first thought of Winrae, his mind falling back on the golden armor. He wondered what she was saying of him. To the other members of the guard. Maybe even to the prince. He knew he had a bad reputation, but telling the Winged Stallion to fuck off? His days were done. That is, if Winrae didn't kill him first. That corrupt beast could do anything. Kamara's chosen. Psh. Chosen enemy, perhaps. No honorable god would chose a warrior like Winrae to represent them. His mind then drifted back to Faelyth. Her face seemed to glimmer on the water, reflected by the moon. Fit with that terrible smirk. He was here for her, after all.\n\nIf she ever showed up." }, { "author": "Faelyth Duskryn", "message": "The dark elf assassin bred for murder did show up, but not in the way Edvard may have suspected. While it was true she had fled from the knight when they first met, the moment she realized he was leaving the mining town, Faelyth pursued him. The dark elf's desire was to haunt him, after seeing how furious he was to learn of her past and present duties. She followed him for those weeks, through Alynthi all the way to Findara. The likelihood of Edvard knowing she was in tow was extremely low, as she had stayed well over a dozen hours behind him at all times. How could she keep up then, one might wonder? The cloth left to Edvard back in the Miner's Daughter. Enchanted to ensure any who kept it on their person would be found at one point or another. Satisfied she had found her target, the dark elf climbed a tree and sat idly within it, as quiet as a mouse.\n\nWatching the knight quietly, Faelyth pulled a dagger from her leg and began to spin it in her hands. She never made a sound, just watched with intense curiosity. Why did he come back? To find her? Realizing he had no armor on, Faelyth tilted her head out of confusion. Surely he must not have known she followed then, else he'd have full armor on his body. Putting the dagger's blade to her finger, she ran her digit down the sharpened blade, the leather of her gloves saving her hand from any cuts. Faelyth did not understand her sudden fascination with the Alynthi knight, though she knew it had much to do with his promise to her. \n\n\"Mark my words, you will burn.\"\n\n_ _\nA smile curled onto the assassin's face before finally she had enough of sitting around and waiting. Quietly crawling down from her perch, Faelyth sauntered around in the brushes that surrounded the pond. Now, the assassin was behind Edvard, her footsteps as silent as whisper. Creeping up behind the knight, the dagger Faelyth had in her hand was soon wrapped around Edvard's throat. Leaning in, the dark elf assassin muttered with a bright smile across her lips. \"Did you come back for me, love?\"" }, { "author": "Ser Edvard Eldebrand", "message": "Edvard hadn't noticed, obviously. He found things that seemed more important. Whether it be Winrae, Wary, or the gods themselves, it always felt as if Edvard was juggling problems far larger than himself. The sword of justice was meant to cast down the largest and mightiest foes, after all. Standing against the evil in the realm was never an easy task, and no one ever told him it would be an easy task. But he took it on anyway. He always told himself it was to honor Ser Hastings, but part of his mind knew that wasn't true. Something in the back of his head still wrung the truth. He cared greatly for those around him and was willing to protect them no matter the cost, but he wasn't a knight for them. He didn't serve for them and he knew it. He served for himself. To quench that thirst. To feel wanted. When he wore that armor, all looked to him and saw someone worthy. Someone worthy of being wanted. All his life, he only ever wanted to feel like someone desired him. To feel like someone didn't want to just cast him aside.\n\nAnd someone did.\n\nThe knife came to his throat as quickly as it could, but Edvard didn't move. His hand was already resting on the hilt of his sword, and he gripped it strong, but he slowly let it fall back to the ground, removing his only chance at defending himself. He wasn't going to die. He and Faelyth both knew it. If he felt like he was in danger, he would've come in full plate. It was likely she was tracking him anyway. He knew that. He wasn't a fool. He couldn't pin her down, but he couldn't help but feel the eyes in the back of his head. He thought to himself again in that moment, wondering if he hadn't come to stop her. He shot a look down at his hand, now resting quietly on the grass. The thought echoed through his mind like the roar of a cannon, seemingly deafening him to the outside world. Maybe he had come because he knew she would be here. Maybe he actually wanted to see her again. As twisted as it seemed, it was the truth.\n\nHe slowly moved his neck back to look towards Faelyth, being careful as to not slash his carotid open as he did so. His face seemed tired, and his eyes hollow. He stared at Faelyth intently, his eyes perfectly matching hers for a moment, before he cast his gaze back down to the pond. Fish swam quietly through the pitch-black water, completely oblivious to the situation unfolding in front of them. He pictured his blood running through the water, joining their perfect ecosystem at the hands of Faelyth. \"I did.\" He said, his voice coarse with melancholy." }, { "author": "Faelyth Duskryn", "message": "Sitting silently for a long few moments, the assassin pondered on her options. It'd be easiest to just slit the knight's throat and be done with it, but her playful nature simply wouldn't allow it. After mulling it over for what seemed like forever, the dark elf pulled her dagger away instead. Walking around Edvard with a far gap between them, her different colored eyes remained glued to his sword. What was it that the knight hoped to accomplish here and now? Nevertheless, Faelyth walked around the pond before standing on its edge to peer into the water cautiously. Was there some sort of trick to this? Why here, why in the middle of the night back in the town the two had met in? Eyeing Edvard with an innate playfulness and curiosity, Faelyth finally took the knight's bait.\n\n\"Why here, alone in the dark? Say you knew I was on your trail, why not try and trap me, finally have my head as you so wished.\" Slowly, Faelyth returned her dagger to her boot before sauntering back around Edvard. Here she was again, circling her prey as she did so many weeks ago. With a smirk, Faelyth wished to poke fun at the poor old knight. \"Well, perhaps you've come to finally take me up on all my offers?\" The chill night air nipped at the dark elf's pointed ears, but it didn't bother her in the slightest. She was of course from the cold regions of Lazaroth, so the cold didn't bother Faelyth in the slightest. With a smirk, the dark elf gestured to the knight.\n\n\"Or, maybe you wished to know if my tale of murdering babies was true or not? I am a Sister after all...\"" }, { "author": "Ser Edvard Eldebrand", "message": "\"I'm not sure what I want anymore.\"\n\nEdvard shrugged, his position unchanging as he stared into the water. Faelyth circling around him seemed to not bother him at all, even though the imagery was obvious. He knew he wasn't exactly in a position of power. Faelyth controlled the situation like a puppet master, and Edvard sat as a limp marionette, whose strings were old and snapped. The water seemed so calm and quiet. It was in stark contrast to his mind, a raging tempest of emotions. He thought back to the time he and Faelyth first met. That unstoppable feeling she cast over him simply by placing her hand on his cheek. It was disgraceful, wasn't it? But it was something hadn't even really stopped thinking about. He hadn't ever really... Felt that way. Not in the past few decades. It felt like everyone around him saw him as some foolish knight, or some scary sentinel. He didn't seem to command respect from anyone. Faelyth was no different, but even the fake admiration she gave him still felt that infinite hole in his heart somewhat.\n\n\"I don't need to know if your tale is true or not. It's true. Why lie to ourselves. You're a murderer, and I'm the one who couldn't capture you.\" He shrugged, shaking his head as he stared back up towards Faelyth, who now stood next to him. Closing in for the kill, it seemed. It'd only end his torment. He was in such a strange position. His temper seemed to rise and fall back and forth, completely unintelligible. First he was crying over his fellow knights, then he stood up to Winrae, and now he sat, a fool in wolf's clothing. Some moping man asking for death. She could've killed him whenever she wanted. A simple slice of her knife and he was done. But he didn't move. He didn't feel the need. There was something strange about Faelyth. Something... Safe. In a way. His judgement could've been very wrong, but he didn't quite care. Not anymore.\n\n\"Maybe I have come to reconsider your offer. Maybe I haven't. What does it matter anymore?\"" }, { "author": "Faelyth Duskryn", "message": "\"Oh? Perhaps you do though, Ser Edvard.\" There was a sense that filled the dark elf's heart, one that was drenched in pity and memory. It was true, Faelyth was indeed a murderer, but the old teachings of the Sisterhood was something the dark elf held true. Overtime, the Sisterhood had devolved, long forgetting the reason they had originally formed. Not Faelyth. Wandering ever so closer, the dark elf sat near Edvard, but not within arm or sword length. Now she too stared at the water beneath them. \"No child has fallen at the hands of my blade.\" While this could of course been another lie as it was something Faelyth did often, the look on her face rang truth. The original duty of the Sisterhood was to cull those unfit to live any longer. Murderers, thieves, rapists. The only contracts Faelyth ever took within the Sisterhood were for people of this nature.\n\nAs Edvard mentioned the potential of reconsidering Faelyth's offer, she nearly gasped in disbelief. Was he serious? How low had this man fallen? This was not at all what the dark elf expected of Edvard, not in the slightest. Hiding her surprise, Faelyth shrugged it off a bit as if she knew all along this was the reason he returned. \"Hm? You wish to bed me after all? What if I say no, what then Ser Edvard?\" Her yellow and blue eyes finally met the knight's, though they were filled with uncertainty. A stark contrast to Faelyth's confident tone of voice. She had to be careful, even moreso than before. While ploys were her specialty, she simply couldn't fall for one of Edvard's.\n\nDistrust was thick in the air between them, but the look Faelyth gave Edvard seemed to scream at him. 'Give her a reason to cut your throat.' Pity filled the dark elf's heart, but she dared not show it. Before her was a broken man. Perhaps all he wished for was to not be alone, at least for a single night. \"It matters because you've returned. You made a promise to me, remember?\"" }, { "author": "Ser Edvard Eldebrand", "message": "The new came suddenly to Edvard. It was a shock to be sure. Faelyth seemed so intent on convincing him that she had truly killed a child. And he had believed it. It was in his vow, after all. He was Edvard Eldebrand, and he was going to burn her. He was going to let her burn. But now, he sat, a small smile growing on his face as he stared into Faelyth's eyes. They read truth. He could tell. It felt like everyone he knew was lying about themselves. Even him. He constantly proclaimed he was some just warrior. He wasn't. He knew it. He wanted to go back to where he started. Where he was at least honest with himself. Where he knew he was a terrible knight. He couldn't handle lying to himself. It wasn't good for him. He knew it, and everyone else knew it. His ideals of grandiose glory would land him in golden armor too one day. Just like Winrae. The thought of becoming anything like her was terrifying. He wasn't thinking of her now, though. He only thought of Faelyth. \"I'm surprised. I'm sorry.\" He said, sighing as he gazed back towards the lake.\n\n\"I don't wish to bed you, Faelyth.\" He spoke, shaking his head. He found it insulting, in a way. He only wanted to bare out his feelings. He only wanted to feel like he wasn't dying for one night. Drowning under the weight of his armor. Yet, Faelyth sought to tease him. It wasn't surprising, though. It was Faelyth. You knew things were bad when the only company you have is Faelyth. \"I don't really know what I want. I guess I just...\" He stopped for a moment, raising his head to gaze across the lake. His eyes shot into the wood, where he found a small, sleeping doe. His eyes studied the weak, innocent creature, before turning to Faelyth again, his eyes still somber and lonely. \"I haven't slept in a decade. I guess I've grown tied of spending the nights completely alone.\"\n\nHe continued to stare towards Faelyth, a small smile growing on his face. Her honesty seemed refreshing, thought it was potentially fake. Nothing seemed quite real anymore though. Faelyth was the only person he could talk to that was honest with themselves. Other than Wary, of course, but somehow that image didn't seem quite appealing. The smile quickly faded though, and Edvard returned to his slight, solemn frown. \"I made that promise on the assumption that you killed a child. I take it back, if it means anything. I just want someone to talk to. Is that so much to ask?\"" }, { "author": "Faelyth Duskryn", "message": "Faelyth listened quietly, but intently to the knight's words. He had looked lonely the first time she had met him. She had known only a handful of knight's in her time, even killed one on a contract. All, lonely as a one might expect. Their family feeling abandoned leaves them, or perhaps they didn't have one to begin with. These thoughts caused Faelyth to wonder what Edvard's story was, and as he spoke, she had a feeling his intent was to share it. After a long moment of ponder, Faelyth began to move once more. Standing, she neared Edvard, now well within arms length of one another she sat yet again. It was an invitation of trust, one that she was unsure Edvard would keep.\n\n\"Well-\" Faelyth began, her voice much softer than before. Letting out a gentle sigh, her eyes looked over to meet Edvard's, not a trace of anger or ulterior motives within them. \"I am not opposed to being an open ear. Though you'll have to make your words interesting, I don't take kindly to boredom.\" Not wishing to show any weakness, Faelyth ensured that Edvard knew there was still a playfulness to her tone, though she knew if Edvard wished to share any story of his own, it'd likely be one of sorrow. Eyeing him curiously, Faelyth shrugged a bit, a teasing gleam in her eye. \"I would offer a remedy to your sleepless ailment, but you've turned me down more than once.\" Raising a brow Edvard's way, the dark elf then fell silent to allow the knight a chance to speak and empty his mind should he wish to." }, { "author": "Ser Edvard Eldebrand", "message": "Edvard appreciated her greatly. The choice to move closer to him was bold, but it was one Edvard took with a smile. He himself moved slightly closer to her in an attempt to show mutual trust. In addition, he moved his hands down to his pants, unbuckling and removing the sword and sheath from his side to set them down on the ground. Within arms reach, but still hard to draw. He truly didn't intend on causing any harm, and his eyes and smile supported it. It was a small smile, but it was a smile nonetheless. To know that someone, even Faelyth, cared remotely about his wellbeing was of great pleasure to Edvard. He rested his hands in the grass behind him, leaning on them for support as he gazed up into the starry night, surprised at the grin he wore so pleasantly. He couldn't see himself, but he had a feeling it was a good look. He was sure there were a few people that'd get a kick out of him smiling for once, Faelyth included.\n\nHe turned to look towards the Elf, chuckling softly as she spoke. \"I don't really aim to tell you my life story. It's not depressing or heartbreaking. I distinctly remember telling you that I'm not very interesting.\" He shook his head, continuing to stare deep into her eyes. In contrast to hers, his were a simple shade of blue, and while dull, they seemed beautiful. A sort of blandness that gave you true comfort. His eyes were easy to get lost in, though few ever had. Just his wife. And he knew she wasn't anywhere other than six feet underground. \"I just didn't want to spend the night alone.\" He spoke, shrugging softly. \"You could always tell me your life story. Why you became an assassin. I'm sure you have far better motivations than I.\" He sighed, his smile staying present throughout the conversation. He seemed genuinely happy to be there. To be next to Faelyth.\n\nEd: He chuckled loudly as she proposed to him again, shaking his head as he turned back to the lake, swinging his head like it bore weight. \"Tell me, why do you want to bed me so badly?\" He asked, nearing an intense laugh. He didn't aim to embarrass her, he was just genuinely curious. His wife was the only one who had ever found him remotely attractive. He found it incredibly confusing. Perhaps it was just her nature. Perhaps she just wanted to steal his coin. It didn't quite matter to him anymore. \"I'm not exactly handsome. I said it before and I'll say it again, if you want my coin you can just have it. Not like I need it anyway.\"" }, { "author": "Faelyth Duskryn", "message": "Tensing slightly as Edvard removed his sword, she quickly relaxed when she saw what the knight did with it. Always on watch, it seemed. As Edvard turned the tables on Faelyth and asked for her own story however, her eyes darkened a bit. Storms began to brew in each of her elemental eyes, before she drew them away from Edvard's. \"You expect a cold blooded killer like me to share my life?\" Faelyth's answer was cold, as cold as the air that nipped at each of their bodies. Nevertheless, she did choose to answer one of his questions. \"I know men of your beliefs think the Sisterhood is a place of darkness, but you're wrong. They took me in, they raised me. I owe my existence to the Sisters of Salvation, and will continue to serve them until my last breath.\" Faelyth wanted to stand up and run, run as far away as she possibly could from Edvard and his questions. Damn Him.\n\nLooking away, his next inquiry did not invoke an answer out of the dark elf. She remained as silent as her earlier approach, her eyes now in the pond at their feet. Memories she did not wish to remember came flooding back into her mind. Doing her best to forget again, Faelyth tried to hide the emotions that managed to seep through her typically playful façade. Long moments of silence passed once more, until she finally answered him. \"As for your inquiry of my bed habits, you turned me down. No one has before, at least not that I can remember. Perhaps I wished to know if it was something of my own fault or yours. Perhaps I saw it as a challenge. Perhaps I simply wished to know whether or not there were balls between your legs.\" Yet again, her answer was a bit colder than before, but at least her playfulness was slowly returning.\n\n_ _\nPulling her knees to her chest, the dark elf laid her head upon them before turning to look back at Edvard. \"As for your looks, you've obviously not spent much time before a mirror. You're not as ugly as you say, and no I don't want your damned coin, I'm not some harlot in a brothel, damn you.\" A frown of irritation covered Faelyth's face, one that hated Edvard's incessant belief that she wished to steal from him. \"The contracts of the Sisterhood pay me well enough, thank you.\"" }, { "author": "Ser Edvard Eldebrand", "message": "Edvard chuckled slightly, shaking his head at her first response. He struck a nerve it seemed. Perhaps calling her an assassin wasn't exactly to her liking, though it seemed a fitting job description to him. He wouldn't get as angry if she called him a mercenary instead of a Hedge Knight, though he didn't bear either title anymore. Slowly, he reached his hand out towards her, setting it on the grass in between them. He smiled sweetly, nodding as he spoke. \"I'm sorry. I didn't mean offense.\" He spoke quietly, a soft sight emanating from his lips. \"I don't hold any opinions on your Sisterhood. I don't know anything about them other than what you've told me. I don't intend on insulting the people who raised and cared for you, as I hope you don't intend on insulting the ones who raised and cared for me in turn. I'm sorry if I said the wrong thing. Truly.\" Edvard raised a hand to his heart, placing its leathered visage on his chest with a firm thud.\n\nEdvard recoiled slightly as she spoke once again, sighing as she did so. He didn't intend on speaking about his past, but he felt she was owed it. He truly hadn't intended on engrossing her with his mysterious habits as much as he had. He quietly swallowed the pit growing in his throat before speaking, his voice clear, yet touched by a drop of solemn regret. \"My wife died. Around seven years ago. I had to leave her three years earlier. Bad deal with a god. I beseeched the faith, he forced me to run from everyone I knew and everyone I loved. I got the letter a few years after I left. It was from an old friend. I don't know how he found me, but he did. She drowned in a river near our home. She always liked taking walks along the riverbed. She used to bring me back rocks she found glimmering beneath the waves. He said she just waded into the water and never came out.\" He sighed, turning away from Faelyth and back towards the pond.\n\n\"I didn't turn you down because I didn't like you. You're beautiful enough. Certainly fun to talk to.\" He shrugged, turning back to Faelyth with a worn-out smile, bearing the weight of immense grief and sorrow. \"I turned you down because of her. I never got to say goodbye. She was the first woman to ever look at me with love in her eyes. The first to ask me to court her. The first who begged me to marry her. The first who ever loved me. And she died. Likely because of me.\" His eyes fell to the grass, his expression solemn and hollow. \"What am I to do when someone like you takes interest in me? Accept the advances knowing full well the wrath of a merciless god will drive you to a similar fate? I refuse to put that on anyone. I'll bear the weight alone.\"" }, { "author": "Faelyth Duskryn", "message": "Faelyth remained silent, her eyes averted from Edvard as he spoke of the Sisterhood. She nearly had the urge to tune him out entirely, but as he spoke of his wife Faelyth's heart wrenched with a feeling she had not felt in a very long time. In nearly one hundred years. Turning her head back, she looked at Edvard with a pained expression, one filled with not sympathy, but empathy. As the knight's gaze wandered back to the pond, so too did Fae's. Keeping her head resting upon her knees, she brought her arms up under it to support her head, leaving her looking as lost and sorrowful as Edvard beside her. Once again, the knight spoke, this time of her advances. A slight smile formed on her lips, though it was bittersweet in nature.\n\n\"You're as honorable as they come, Ser Edvard. I suppose I do not truly know of the kind of love you speak of. Maybe its why I make advances the way I do.\" Falling silent once more, Faelyth sat up and drew her hand to the necklace around her neck. The centerpiece was a black amethyst, one that dazzled when the moonlight struck it. Gently, the dark elf removed it before holding it out for Edvard to take. A look of pain fell onto Fae's face, but a smile formed on her lips regardless. When she opened her mouth to speak again, her words were nearly a whisper. \"This was my mother's. When- when she was ripped from me, this was all I managed to keep.\"\n\nFaelyth's eyes finally reached Edvard's once more, but no tears were within them. She had cried her last when she said her finally goodbyes to her mother and father. Nevertheless, her gaze remained within Edvard's eyes, a silent understanding forming between the two. \"I know more than anyone I'm sure you've met what its like to have endless sleepless nights.\"" }, { "author": "Ser Edvard Eldebrand", "message": "Edvard nodded solemnly, staring out towards the pond in silence. He truly wished he was free of the guilt and grief caused by his wife's death. The thought of moving on and finding joy once again in the arms of another was mesmerizing to the lonesome knight. But he knew it wasn't to be. Not when he saw her face every time he closed his eyes. He rarely even blinked anymore. He was so deathly afraid of returning to her. All he ever wanted was to find himself in her loving embrace once more, but it was fear that kept him away. And that same fear drove her to suicide. It was his fault, that much he knew. He didn't think he could ever really make up for it. Perhaps that was why he tried to present himself as an honorable, faceless knight. As a man with no past. He wanted to devote himself to something or someone again. To have all of his actions driven by their call. He had chosen justice, but it felt like justice had not chosen him.\n\nHe stared off towards Faelyth, listening in silence as she spoke. The compliment she spoke didn't fall on deaf ears. She made fun of him in the past. Of his title. Of his honor. But she said it with pride now. He had gotten through to her. The genuine moment warmed his heart, but he looked in relative awe as she removed the necklace and offered it to him. Slowly, he reached out towards her hand, his eyes fixated on the amethyst. It was beautiful. He didn't have anything of the sort to remember his wife by. He thought to himself in silence for a few moments, before he shook his head. Both hands gripped hers and slowly coiled her fingers around the necklace, closing her fist over the trinket. Softly, he pushed her hand back to Faelyth, casting his eyes back up to hers. He let the hand stop around her chest, keeping it right next to her heart.\n\n\"It's beautiful.\" He said, smiling his now signature soft and slim smile. His eyes seemed to grow heavy with the potential of tears, but they never came. The grief seemed to mix with love. Thinking of his wife now seemed more melancholic than it did depressing. He supposed Faelyth had opened his heart more than he ever thought it could. \"I'm not an honorable man, Faelyth. Far from it. I'm only a fool with skeletons in his closet.\" He recoiled a bit, but didn't move all the way back, staying somewhat close to Faelyth. It was strange. He simply didn't feel like leaving her presence. \"The sleepless nights are my fault and mine alone. I drove my wife into that river, and I'm simply paying the price for it. I thank you for your kind words, but I'm afraid they're misdirected.\"" }, { "author": "Faelyth Duskryn", "message": "Placing the necklace round her neck once more, Faelyth glanced to Edvard but a smile soon fell onto her face. \"You think You Have skeletons in Your Closet?\" Faelyth nudged the knight a bit, a playful look in her eyes. Nevertheless, they soon faded. It simply wasn't a time to joke around, as much as Faelyth wished to. It was her way of avoiding emotion. The same could be said for her bed habits. Frowning as Edvard blamed himself for his wife's death, she sat straight once more and shook her head. Her yellow and blue eyes were filled with disbelief and empathy, as well as a pain expression. The amount of years Faelyth wasted away blaming herself for something her seven year old self could do nothing about. \"It's not your fault, Edvard.\"\n\nA gloved hand soon reached up to cup the knight's face, just like the night a handful of weeks ago. Faelyth's eyes stayed stuck in Edvard's gaze, though she refused to allow him to blame himself any longer. \"None of my words are misdirected. You are Not To blame, you must know this in your heart.\" Perhaps his wife had taken her own life out of grief but if she was as happy and in love as he claimed, surely this couldn't be the case. Surely it was a mere accident. Staring for a moment longer, Faelyth finally pulled her hand away but her gaze remained. The chromancer's eyes were filled with a deep understanding, one from a place of care. \"You must stop blaming yourself.\"" }, { "author": "Ser Edvard Eldebrand", "message": "Edvard sat in silence, bringing himself even closer to Faelyth. He dragged his entire body forward, sitting closer now. The memories all seemed to flood back to him in an instant, and the grief was something he didn't quite want to share alone. He wasn't entirely sure what his motives were, but he simply felt a primal need to be close to someone. In other words, Edvard needed a hug. He stared out into the pond once more, allowing his eyelids to droop over his eyes before they shut with a silent thud, leaving Edvard alone in the dark once again. He hated that feeling. Loneliness. He felt it so often but he never grew to care for it. He always hated it. He used to lie to himself late at night. Think of how happy he was to finally be alone. Like it brought him great relief. But it didn't. It never did. He'd rather be in the company of fools like Winrae than alone in the dark. How lucky was he to have Faelyth at his side instead.\n\n\"I'm not sure.\" He said, turning back to Faelyth, his eyes grew wide and solemn, staring directly into hers. He still wore that old, tired smile, offering a slight scoff-like chuckle as a response. \"Maybe it was an accident. Maybe it was the gods. Maybe she chose to do it completely on her own volition. I don't know.\" He shrugged slightly, sighing heavily as he continued. \"But there isn't anyone else willing to bear the blame. I loved her too much to let her die in some blameless, meaningless way. Besides. I'm no honorable or gallant warrior. I'm just Edvard the Coward. And I'll always be Edvard the Coward. The man who couldn't save his wife because he was too scared to stand up to a god. Pathetic, isn't it?\" He laughed calmly, shaking his head. \"But you don't need to hear my problems. I don't want to bore you with them.\"\n\nThe hand came as a surprise. He was taken aback, his heart pounding as she moved to touch his face. He immediately thought back to that first night. The night he had promised to burn her at the pyre. Now, here he sat, conversing with her like an old friend. The warmth he felt was undeniable, and his mind seemed to go blank at the touch. He brought his eyes open, staring towards Faelyth with that same smile, now mixed with a certain somberness. He raised his hands to her wrist, softly trying to keep the hand on his face. He leaned into the touch, glad to finally have someone willing to care about him. No knights in the barracks would've done the same. It was strange how he found a good friend in the company of a random rogue on a random night, but he certainly wasn't complaining. Instead, he relished in the touch, nodding a silent thank you to Faelyth. He needed it more than she ever could have realized." }, { "author": "Faelyth Duskryn", "message": "\"You are no coward. You chose to live a life of honor, one many knights I know nowadays have forgotten. If your wife chose to take her own life, then it was a sickness of the mind. Not your fault. If it was an accident then you are still not to blame, my dear.\" Feeling the need to reassure Edvard further, Faelyth sighed. \"For dozens of years I blamed myself for something similar. My mother and father were torn from this world when I was no more than a few years old, right before my eyes.\" Faelyth shared the saddened look in Edvard's eyes. This tale was not one she had shared with anyone outside of those who knew within the Sisterhood. Nevertheless, with a heavy sigh, she continued.\n\n\"I was seven, Edvard. I'm 97 Now. That's ninety years of my life wasted away believing it was my own fault. You are not pathetic. You simply haven't given yourself the time and space to mourn. Remember her fondly, not through grief. Remember the love, the happiness you shared with one another.\" Looking to Edvard, Faelyth could feel a lump begin to form in her throat but she refused to let tears in her eyes. Not again. \"You are not Edvard the Coward, you are Edvard the Kind. The Humble.\" Tilting her head endearingly, the dark elf seemed to have felt more in a single conversation than she had in decades. In enough years to make up countless men and women's lives. It was draining sure, but something she strangely welcomed.\n\n\"The fate of all are in the hands of forces we will never truly understand. Gods will have their way with us whether we like it or not. But you cannot suffocate yourself with this grief.\" The empty look she had seen in Edvard's eyes in the tavern now made more sense. He Was A man of honor, whether he believed it or not. Edvard was a man of respect, and she hated that he couldn't see it. With the two mere inches apart, all Faelyth could do was look into the knight's eyes, hoping he'd see to some sort of reason in her words." }, { "author": "Ser Edvard Eldebrand", "message": "Edvard nodded slowly, letting Faelyth's hand return to her person. It didn't feel quite right to refuse it, but he still missed it as it left. He missed that touch. The warm feeling that only brought him to interact with her in the first place. When he first saw her in Lerwick, she only seemed like another two-bit criminal. But it was the hand that changed everything. Perhaps it was a weakness of Edvard's. Falling at the slightest hint of romantical touch. But he felt it was a kind of strength. At least, he certainly felt it was a strength now. Truly, he felt incredibly lucky to be in her presence. He looked back into her eyes, noticing her expression change and warp as she seemingly grew closer and closer. Finally seeing an emotion other than lust and annoyance from Faelyth was wonderful, and Edvard's heart seemed to flutter with joy at the sight of it. It was almost... Magical. In a way.\n\n\"97?\" He asked, laughing slightly. \"You don't look a day over 27.\" He joked, shaking his head with a sigh. He thought the joke might clear the air between them, but it was only a joke. He'd have to face the music. And face the music he did. \"Thank you, Faelyth. It's good to see this side of you. For these past few weeks, I've only really thought of you as some lustful, ignorant murderer. And I'm sorry to have misjudged you. I can't assure you that I'll be able to turn a new leaf based on your words, but know that I've taken them to heart. I'm not a perfect person. I'm rather slow to change. But I'll try. Not much else to do, really. 'The seed of corruption is often halted by the embrace of change.'\" He said, a smile growing even larger on his lips. \"My old master said that. It's wonderful to see his spirit live on in you.\"\n\nCarefully, Edvard brought himself even closer to Faelyth, sending the two almost colliding with each other. He left a small gap in between. But he didn't quite care about norms or anything of the sort. Not anymore. In this moment, the stars above them seemed to burn as bright as they ever had, glowing a beautiful, yellow gold. As sweet as honey, it seemed. Leaning in, Edvard rested his head on Faelyth's shoulder, chuckling at the sight. The six foot monster of a man resting atop the small Elf's shoulder. It was comical, sure, but it was comfortable. For once, the terrible tempest that raged on in Edvard's mind seemed to suddenly vanish, replaced by the calm seas of tranquility. \"I'm sure your parents are proud of you. Looking down from the heavens with wide grins crossing their faces.\"" }, { "author": "Faelyth Duskryn", "message": "Flattery seemed to work on Faelyth a bit as a genuine smile finally broke through her melancholy expressions. His mentioning of his original view of her caused the dark elf to roll her eyes however, a chuckle escaping her lips. \"Oh please, I still am a lustful murderer, though perhaps its not only you who could do with a change. Well-\" Chuckling a bit more, Faelyth shook her head with a slight shrug. \"-maybe not the lust. Everyone has their coping mechanisms and habits.\" Truth be told such a habit was a bit darker than she might have realized. Using such an intimate way to deal with her trauma was not healthy in the slightest, but it brought her comfort. At least for as long as each partner would allow. Tilting her head his way, Faelyth smiled warmly at Edvard's words of change. \n\nThen, the mention of his master and how Edvard saw him in Faelyth. Rolling her eyes, the flattery seemed to be getting to her. Glancing away toward the pond, the gentle movement of Edvard didn't seem to bother Faelyth in the slightest, but when she felt a heavier weight on her shoulder she darted her eyes back to the knight to see his head on her shoulder. Raising a brow, a sense of calm washed over the assassin. After a moment, Faelyth rested her own head on Edvard's. Yes, it likely looked comical to see a knight as large as Edvard resting against a small woman such as Faelyth, but she didn't mind. Instead, she embraced his advances, even if it was simply a friend resting on a friend. Perhaps not all touch needed to be as intimate as she was used to.\n\n_ _\nThe two simply watched the stars above with one another, and as Edvard spoke of her parents a bittersweet look filled the dark elf's eyes. One of memory, but of the good times with her mother and father. The sentiment spoke volumes to Faelyth. After quite a long while of watching the night pass by in pure silence and calm, the assassin finally broke it. \"You don't need to spend this night alone, Edvard. If you'll have me that is.\" Her words were open to interpretation, though before Edvard could make an assumption, she reassured him once more. \"I only mean to have someone close, not to bed. I'd be a fool to mock you about such a thing anymore.\" Nudging him playfully, Faelyth brought her head back up, curious to know how Edvard would respond to her offer." }, { "author": "Ser Edvard Eldebrand", "message": "\"Where you have sex, I have moping. They go hand in hand, don't they?\" Edvard grinned, laughing heartily as he rested, his eyes gazing back up towards the stars. Maybe the two didn't have the best coping mechanisms for grief, but he didn't care. The only coping mechanism he needed anymore was this. This feeling of being close to someone. It felt simple pure and calm. There was love, but there wasn't a need for romance. No arousal. Just... Love. In the purest form. Two people dealing with the worst grief imaginable by quite literally leaning on each other. It was poetic, in a way. But Edvard didn't reach for a paper and quill. There was no need to write it down. The emotions he felt were plainly obvious to everyone at the pond, fish included. The stars themselves seemed the poets, while the two who sat near the pond were the subjects. He'd remember this moment for eons, as he hoped she would as well.\n\nHe didn't intend the words about his master as flattery. He simply spoke his mind. He held Ser Hastings in the ultimate regard. He even styled his facial hair after him. He never thought the mutton-chops quite suited him, but Ser Hastings was always so adamant on them. He said it was the style of true knights. The most honorable of warriors sported mutton-chops. Of course, not a single one of the Hedge Knights in his company had mutton-chops. But he never brought it up. It was a joke to him, but one he held close to home. He held his strange mustache like a badge of honor. The least Edvard could do after his passing was adopt the style. It made him feel closer to his old master. Though it didn't quite compare to this. She really seemed to bear the soul of Ser Hastings. What a surprise. His honor and prose found in some assassin he had just met. How lucky was he.\n\nHe slowly let his head off of her shoulder as she removed hers from his, chuckling softly as she offered to share his bed a final time. \"Always determined, aren't you?\" He joked, nodding slightly. \"I could care less how we spend time together, as long as you're here. Whatever makes you happy, I suppose.\" He chuckled, leaning back to rest on his hands once again. He gazed back up towards the stars, before quickly turning back to Faelyth. He hadn't really noticed before, but her eyes were quite captivating. Not even due to the different colors. They seemed to tell a story. One far different, and far more interesting than his own. He grinned widely, moving forward to nudge against Faelyth, resting the side of his head against hers. \"I'm eternally grateful you chose to put a dagger to my throat tonight. Tonight has truly been magical.\"" }, { "author": "Faelyth Duskryn", "message": "Giggling along with Edvard, Faelyth rolled her eyes at the man she'd come to be so close with so soon. It was if they had been friends for much longer. This was only their second time meeting after all. She shared the feelings he did, but the feelings she felt were things she hadn't in so long. It was like a drug had entered her veins, one that no amount of men nor women could satisfy after an intimate night together. No, this feeling was one of care, of kindness. Of love. They barely knew one another, so it couldn't be romantic. At least not yet anyways, but it was love nonetheless. Two drifting souls rekindling flames that had long been extinguished, their pain so different yet similar. The moment Edvard mentioned he could care less how they spent their night together caused Faelyth's habit to come to mind, but she did her best to quell it.\n\n\"I think I have the perfect 'how' in mind.\" With a wink, Faelyth gentle moved her head away from Edvard's so she could stand. Once she did so, the dark elf was sure to brush herself off and ensure she looked decent before offering a hand to Edvard. \"I'll pay for a room, don't worry yourself. I feel both of use deserve more than a good night's sleep after such a draining conversation.\" Her words were not meant to be rude or dismissive, it was simply the truth. Having such a real and emotional conversation would cause anyone to want to crawl beneath the covers and relax. Nevertheless once Edvard stood, Faelyth ran her hand into his, and it was only then she realized how much bigger his hand truly was. A sense of safety immediately began to wash over the poor assassin, and it wasn't a feeling she'd soon let go of.\n\n_ _\n\"Come along then, while the night is young.\" Faelyth did not indulge Edvard of the details of her plan, at least not yet. All signs pointed to one thing, but perhaps she wished for something else? Tugging him a bit, she allowed the knight time to collect his sword and anything else he might have forgotten before guiding him to the tavern where they last met, the" } ]	489	10,106
781	2022-07-05	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Maeve, Hell-Hound of Lucidien", "message": "A cool breeze blanketed the capital of Alynthi as the sun was tucking herself into the horizon once more. Casting a deepened orange hue across the sky, it would seem as if Lunam and Solaris had caught up with one another for one last dance before he had laid her to rest for the night. Birds and other various sky born creatures had made their exit towards home, more than likely ready to rest their bones just as any other would. Though, the same could be said for that of which lurks on the ground... \n\nThe sound of gentle sloshing ripples into the corners of the lerwick pond, accompanied by the light Twing Of metal blades being laid down together. Within the relatively secluded pond sat one apex predator, however, their figure was replaced with a much more feminine appearance. Relaxed on her knees, Maeve sat wrists deep into the luminescent waters, washing her crimson soaked silver until they sparkled clean under the ever growing moonlight. The atmosphere surrounding her was stiff, unwavering. As if the wildlife had ceased to exist in the mere presence of the dire wolf. For even they too knew of just What She was, even in her sheep's clothing. \n\nSeemingly clean from her own bath, Maeve had a refreshing look on her face aside from the bright red gash that was embedded into her right brow. That long raven black hair snaked down her back, wet and drying in messy curls that hugged the handles of her curvaceous hips. She was simply a sight to behold, no doubt. But for someone such as she, the master thief had a love hate relationship on whose eyes were prowling her form. Aside from the occasional chirp, or whistle from the wind, Maeve amused herself with the hum of her own voice as she finished cleaning up her blades. All of which were clotted with different shades of blood and flesh. \n_ _\n\nIt came to no surprise that the hellhound was out on her usual rampant crusades. Maeve often liked the song and dance when it comes to staring death in the face- And earning a nice reward afterwards. Young and full of life, the dire wolf would throw herself to the biggest challenger in the room for simply fun. Most people called her psychotic, while most if not all of her colleagues adored her for it. Maeve was a force to be reckoned with, and she knew that all too well. Just as the night was silent around her, the young shapeshifter never let her guard down. With her back turned towards the open clearing she had come from, those tall pointed ears that sat upon the woman's head listened intently to all that was around her. From a twig snapping, to the rustle in nearby tree tops, Maeve focused all her senses to surround and protect her. \n\nIt was however, until the heavy sound of Light Footfalls pounding into the earth's surface caused the woman to shift her animal-like ears back. Twitching and relocating every so often. Those multi-colored eyes never left her blade in the water, as the reflection of herself became more clear and loominus. Maeve was of course uncertain of who or What Could be making their way into her clearing, yet even so, there was an eerie calmness to the shapeshifter as she held her position within the grass. Closer and closer each pound made, waking nature with each bustle of the leaves slipping beneath their feet. Feet. These were people feet... Maeve then slowly closed her eyes and breathed in heavily, the long hairs along her thick black tail puffing up displeased as the sent of drow filled her nose. \n\nJust as the spriting feet came speeding into the open clearing, Maeve's venomous voice jabed into the air smoothly, \"Well, well, if it isn't Ashface.\"" }, { "author": "Faelyth Duskryn", "message": "Fleeing from the man who had just claimed his love to her Faelyth was terrified. She had completely forgotten her horse, Renaissance was back at the tavern awaiting her master's return, but at least her snake companion Zafeiri was well hidden within the fold of her hood. It had flown from the top of her head long ago, but Fae cared not. She was scared, confused and filled with emotions she had never felt before, and didn't understand them at all. Edvard's words rung in her ears, 'I do not need your body to love you.' They were words she never thought possible to speak, and her mind simply could not fathom the thought. Pushing through the bushes and trees, Faelyth ran blindly into the woods as tears streamed down her face endlessly. The sun was once again dipping down over the horizon, but she was to get lost so be it. Being alone would give her time to think of her next move. What to do, and whether or not to find Edvard once more.\n\nBursting through the brushes, past tree after tree, Faelyth ran and ran hard. The tears never seemed to end, but soon the shimmer of water caught her eye. She was running towards the pond she had found Edvard the night prior. Slowing down, the dark elf allowed her thoughts to catch up with her feet, but not before hearing a voice she recognized all to well. Now in the open near the pond, Faelyth's yellow and blue eyes darted to the figure, and before she even had time to run once more the beast spoke a vicious slur her way. Fearing the hellhound would see or smell her tears, she quickly wiped them away though her voice would easily give away her current emotions. \"Go crawl back into the hole you came from, beast walker.\" Sneering toward Maeve, Faelyth reached her hand down to rest on one of her two dagger's, a sign that regardless of the tears that stained her face, she'd fight if she had to.\n\n_ _\n\"Long way from Khisfire, dog.\" The silence between the two aside from their voices was deafening. Faelyth was more than ready to tear the Hellhound of Lucidien apart should she provoke the assassin, but she stood still for now. Fae was entirely unsure what would transpire, but she had a sickening feeling more blood than just from Maeve's blades would spill into the pond this night. She was too tired and too emotionally drained to deal with this, not now. Maeve was well known across the nine kingdoms and nations as being a vicious, cold hearted beast; one Faelyth had the displeasure of running into on more than one account. They were not enemies, nor where they friends. Simply two beings that existed in the same dark underworld of Lucidien; one a murderer, the other a thief.\n\n\"I do not have the patience for you Maeve. Not this night.\" The last thing Faelyth wished to do, aside from tussle with a dire wolf, was have a girl talk on men with a woman she knew as a cunning individual. No, not tonight. Not ever, if Faelyth had any say. With her hand still on one of her dagger's she slowly began to continue to move past Maeve, hoping to slip away once more." }, { "author": "Maeve, Hell-Hound of Lucidien", "message": "A petty chuckle sang out from Maeve's lips when she heard the shakiness quiver from Faelyths throat, trying her damnedest to spat out words to hurt the guild master. Little did Vee care for her words, nor did they faze her. It seemed to be common talk between the two by now. \"Come now, you aren't even the Tiniest Bit excited to see me again?\" Rolling her shoulders back, the toned female twisted her neck around to flash that toothy grin full of blood that was not her own, and it certainly Wasn't A wound given the way she teasingly strung her tongue along her pearly fangs to clean it all up. \"Or is it that you're scared to get your ass handed to you again, hm?\" Maeve knew that would surely strike a fire within the dark elf's heart no doubt, as their last run in left Fae scurrying back to her sisters with more than just a flesh wound or two. It was true however, the dire wolf had little to no interest in Faelyth, especially her bizarre cult. The two's acquaintance was founded because of it, After all. \n\n\"I keep telling you now, I'm not going to run around on a leash.\" Slowly, Maeve rose from her keep near the pond and turned around to face the assassin, her dull blue and red hues dragging over the dark elf's figure as she spoke. \"Even If The collar may be... 'Pretty.'\" That tantalizing stare playing on the wolf's face soon melted into boredom; as Maeve got a clear view of a rather exhausted sister, her brows raised in sheer surprise to catch the flicker of a tear being wiped from the woman's face. Now, given the two had only had less than a handful of encounters, Mave couldn't possibly know Faelyth as well as any other. Though, that didn't stop the shock of seeing her not so friendly acquaintance standing there in a disheveled heep. When the dark elf moved towards her belt, Maeve couldn't help the conceded pinch in her face as she lifted her nose towards the woman and gave a simple scoff. \n\n_ _\n\n\"Calm yourself, twinkle toes. I'm not going to bite tonight.\" That sharp bark still rested in Maeve's tone, she didn't feel threatened by the assassin, by any means. But as long as Faeylth had her fingers clasped around that dager, there would be a problem. However, after a shared moment of silence, the dire wolf rested her arms over one another and leaned rather nonchalantly on a firm leg. Nodding over towards Fae, the shapeshifter gave a look of curiosity- although, it was hard to see if Maeve was being genuine through her stone cold resting bitch face. \"What's got your tongue tonight huh? It's not every day you see a sister running through the woods with puffy eyeballs and looking like they've just seen a ghost...\" Tilting her head even more, Vee rose a brow, \n\n\"Are you in some kind of trouble?\" \n\nGenuine in her mind, Maeve's outward expression remained unmoving. She kept herself planted firmly into the ground, stalking Faelyths figure as she tried to creep her way around the pond. Every so often, Fae would be able to see Maeve's ears twisting and twitching all around the two, subconsciously listening to the earth around them. Her long tail occasionally swayed behind her, keeping a calm and cool presence that remained unannounced to the assassin before her. While it would have been more than a cruel joke to see the dark elf being hunted by a group of royal knights, the shapeshifter knew if that was her fate in this very moment, both of them would have to make haste out of Lerwick. Maeve didn't offer her help often, if to anyone. And most certainly not someone like Her. Nevertheless, a million ideas were already stirring in the wolf's mind should they need run." } ]	804	2,343
147.166667	2022-02-05	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Arcturus Longwood", "message": "Arcturus was walking through the markets of Lerwick. The Knight was a long way from home and at a location such as this, he received many looks from the locals. Some interested, some at horror, and those who were interested in taking advantage of him. He would ignore this and push on though. He was in the market for some new equipment and had heard about a blacksmith in the area who he believed could craft him what he needed. As he approached the shop, he would hear the hammer of a blacksmith hitting metal reassuring his information. Opening the door to the shop (or just approaching it if its a stall) he would enter the waiting area and wait for the Blacksmith to be free." }, { "author": "Theradin Blackhelm", "message": "The Smith lifted the dimly glowing piece of metal, examining it. Not quite finished, but it needed to be heated a bit first before he could heat treat it. He lifted the hook with a pair of tongs and placed it in a bed of coals, before working the bellows to bring the coals up to a warmer temperature. Wiping the sweat off his forehead, he placed his leather gloves on the anvil and turned towards the front of the stall, seeing the knight there. He raised his hand in greeting as he walked to the front of the shop, saying, \"Hello good sir! How may I help you today.\"" }, { "author": "Arcturus Longwood", "message": "Arcturus would step towards the stall now that the Dwarf was finished, removing his sword from his belt, still in his sheathe. He'd hold it in one hand as he approached.\n\n\"Good day sir. I trust you are Theradin Blackhelm, the smith of Lerwick I've heard excellent things about. I'm in need of a companion piece for my current weapon, preferably a shield of some kind.\" \n\nHe would place his sword on the counter, laying it horizontally to allow the smith to inspect it. A reference photo will be dropped into rp-discussion." }, { "author": "Theradin Blackhelm", "message": "\"Aye, that would be me. So let's see what we've got to work with.\" He gently lifted the sword, and pulled it from it's sheath. It was well made, and had no doubt served this knight and his kingdom for a long time. He placed it back down on the counter before he continued.\n\n\"A shield will require more than my skills, as I am not a carpenter, and a shield of solid metal would be incredibly heavy. The way most shields are made involves wook planking with a metal rim and sometimes a boss, although most modern shields skip that step. If you have a bit more money I could apply a metal facing to a shield for added protection, but my carpentry skills beyond making good handles are rather lackluster especially with shields. But even so it wouldn't be to much trouble if you could find a good carpenter, I even know a few I could recommend should you not have a preferred option. Or I could make other things. Parrying daggers, handaxes, maces, you name it.\"" }, { "author": "Arcturus Longwood", "message": "\"I apologize, sometimes the process can skipped over in my mind for the end result. I have no issue paying extra if you have an extra shield on hand you could enhance. Otherwise I can find one on my own time. I was also interested in two handaxes to add to my current arsenal.\"" }, { "author": "Theradin Blackhelm", "message": "\"I don't have one on hand at the moment,\" He said while stroking his beard in thought \"But if you bring one in I certainly can enhance it. As for handaxes, are you wanting small ones balanced for throwing? Or sidearms meant for close combat? As for the shield, it won't be two expensive. I can put a rim on one for only 5 gold, and for a hardened steel facing, it'll fetch you about 15 for labor and materials. It all depends on how you want it though. What kind of shield, any decoration, that kind of thing.\"\n\nHe looked at the sword some more. It was decorated nicely, with subtle engravings along the blade. It was an intricate design, but an easily replicable style. Beautiful, yet practical. He had done many weapons like this, and he was confident he could replicate it. \"Whatever you decide on, it shouldn't be to hard to replicate this design. Beautifully crafted sword I might add.\"" } ]	139	883
410.615385	2022-06-07	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Faelyth Duskryn", "message": "Faelyth's duties as a watcher for the Sisterhood never seemed to end, but needy and lost souls ripe for the picking were always around, especially now after the do-gooder prince of Alynthi decided to meddle in a particularly malevolent families affairs in the slave trade. Work was slow of course. Not all slaves with fresh freedom were desperate to undergo a life of murder and evil-doing but it was work nonetheless. Faelyth would have rather taken up a contract than be stuck wandering after meaningless slaves, but this was her job and its what she signed up for.\n\nNow, the dark elf chromancer found herself wandering the streets of Lerwick, though night had fallen much quicker than she had anticipated. As the assassin walked around the town that was soon to fall asleep under the oncoming nightfall, Faelyth eventually managed to arrive at the now nearly empty market of Lerwick. All but a handful of stalls and shops were closed and dark, and those that were not were doing nothing more than closing up. Faelyth sauntered over to a peddler who was about to close their stall and offered a sinister smile, the wicked playfulness in her different colored eyes causing the man to sputter and stammer. Faelyth of course beat him to his own words.\n.\n\n\"Closing already? Say- where do you store all these goods when Lunam casts our lovely planet in darkness?\" Leaning over the table on the stall, Faelyth looked up at the stall owner with a grin. The wares he was selling was of course jewelry, though it was noticeably not as fine as what you'd find in a place like a capital or Khisfire. They were easily less expensive, but would sell for a pretty penny if you knew how to tell a lie on the streets. \"Well? What if I'm interested in a few of these necklaces.\" Reaching down, Faelyth snatched a necklace with a beautiful yellow gem and threw it around her neck.\n\nOf course, her hood was down and gray hair flowing down her neck. Lifting her hair up the dark elf looked down at the necklace, but before the stall owner could protest, Faelyth glared up at him. Each of her eyes danced, the magic within each swirling in its own way. The left was filled with a violent, yellow lightning. The right, a raging snowstorm. \"Now, now. I'm only trying it on, old man.\"" }, { "author": "green7274", "message": "Edvard stood silently on a stool a few meters, his armor clinking softly as he adjusted his position on the chair to grant himself a better look at Faelyth. The vendor had allowed him to sit at their stall as they closed up shop. He assumed they enjoyed the sense of safety a heavily armored knight brought. Especially in Lerwick, and especially late at night. Through the small slit in his helmet, Edvard stared into his palms, using a small knife to carve a wooden block he had purchased at the market. He hated carving. He wasn't any good at it. At the very least, it was something to do. The royal family had sent him off to patrol the markets of Lerwick for a day as punishment, and the boredom was certainly adding up. He cursed silently at the thought, his mind calling back to the pretentious face of the princess who demanded he leave the castle for a fortnight or two. Something about bringing dread into the vibrant atmosphere cultivated by the royal family. Psh. He was just glad to get away, all things considered. Gerhard certainly enjoyed the ride. What he hadn't hoped for, however, was crime.\n\n\"You'd best pay for that, madam.\" \n\nEdvard seemed to appear at the stall in an instant, his imposing figure cast in the dim light of a lamp resting on a nearby crate. It was an almost exact match to the carving Edvard had deposited under his breast-plate. A carved lamp. To honor the god he hated so. Damned Otis. Damned gods. He stared down towards Faelyth, his voice muffled as he commanded to her through the small port-holes of the steel tomb he wore around his skull. His hand rested on the pommel of his sword, yet in a way that showed he wasn't entirely ready to draw. He didn't want to be doing this as much as anyone else. He'd rather get back to the shoddy inn he was posted up in. The silver-haired woman must pay, however. It was his duty, and he wouldn't be a knight if he didn't at least try to set things right." }, { "author": "Faelyth Duskryn", "message": "The dark elf was having more than enough fun with the stall owner, until heavy footfalls and a metallic voice she'd recognize anywhere caused her grin to disappear. The storm in each of her eyes subsided as she rolled them over to the location of the voice. Of course there was a guard. Oh? A knight instead? How pleasant. Without much delay, Faelyth changed her nature from toying to genuine, even though it was all still a ruse. \"Oh, my apologies, sir. I was simply trying it on. What if I had bought it and not liked it? Perhaps this fine-\" Faelyth's eyes rolled back over to the stall owner, her wandering eyes taking in his form before they returned to the knight, \"-gentleman's policies don't allow returns? What then, I ask?\"\n\nAfter a long staring contest with the knight, the dark elf let out a gentle sigh before removing the necklace from her neck and lazily handing it back to the stall owner. Her eyes were lit like a storm once more as she did so, if only to intimidate the man once more before she'd inevitably have to answer to the knight that loomed oh so close by. Turning her entire form to face him, night had eventually settled in quite nicely, and the chromancer's eyes were practically glowing even with the streetlights nearby. \"Are you always so friendly to women you meet on the street?\"\n\nCarefully, Faelyth drew closer to the knight, her eyes dragging up his armor, though it was hard to tell if she were sizing him up. \"All you Alynthi knights are Notoriously Handsome. Are you the same?\" The dark elf let out a gentle giggle, her dark clothes make her relatively hard to see if she stepped into darker areas of the street not covered by lamplight, but her glowing yellow and blue eyes were always visible." }, { "author": "Ser Edvard Eldebrand", "message": "Edvard stared down towards Faelyth, unmoving. No matter the compliment or comment provided by the dark elf, Edvard stood like a pillar of steel and sword, no hint of weakness protruding from the small cracks in-between his armor. He sighed slightly, removing his hand from the pommel of his sword lazily. He almost felt like bursting out into laughter at the woman's attempts at flirting. Who did she think he was? It's not like knights were known to have relations with any common woman providing a passing compliment on the stree- damn. Rikard. He sighed softly, shaking his head at the thought. He didn't think the influence of knights like Winrae and Rikard would extend this far out from the capital, but here he was. Raising a gloved hand to the forehead of his helm, the steel clashing softly as he swelled with disappointment. He was going to have to teach that boy how to be a knight. Damn it all. Why did a knight have to learn how to become a knight? The hell happened to being a squire? What was so wrong with that? The whole system was a sham these days. Damned royalty.\n\n\"If this is what you take as friendliness, I'd hate to see what you deem to be hatred.\" \n\nEdvard quipped softly, turning back to the vendor's stall he had originated from. Damn. Already gone. Packed up the instant Edvard had left the stool. It appeared he was now stranded, the only company being a thief who fancied herself a flirt and a bald cheapskate vendor selling knock-off necklaces. Psh. Jewelry. He never understood it. The decorations and all. Many knights in the guard had special helms and painted armor. Who did they think they were? Celebrities? Nobles? No. They were knights. Faceless swords. It was despicable. But not nearly as despicable as this girl's attempt at flirting with him. The part of Edvard's brain that processed love died long, long ago. \n\n\"No madam. Hideous, in fact. I look a regular troll. Sorry to disappoint. Best get on home now, don't you think?\"" }, { "author": "Faelyth Duskryn", "message": "\"No one said we had to be friends first, of course.\" Faelyth let out a giggle, but underneath it she knew this would be a hard one to crack. She had slept with a handful of knights in her time, both men and women alike. All of them falling for her tricks. On occasion, she'd play the drunken damsel and steal them blind before morning came. Other times, she'd simply use her looks and body, which was easy enough being a woman and all. Now it seemed like very little was work, but Faelyth was no quitter. The knights answer to his looks however caused Faelyth to shrug.\n\n\"Oh, but there in lies the benefit of the dark right?\" Raising a playful eyebrow, now the dark elf was in fact sizing the knight up. She had taken on bigger men and women alike, but a knight with an unknown standing in the kingdom would be difficult. For all she knew this could be the man who directly protected the prince, which would make him quite the foe indeed. In bed and out. Regardless, Faelyth was now only a few feet from the knight before her, her eyes playfully dancing over his form.\n\nRealizing the bed route would not work, Faelyth rolled her eyes, instead now trying to get under the man's skin as she did so well. \"Don't tell me. You've lost All Hope in a woman's love. Been turned down too many times, big boy?\" Snaking her eyes over his helm, venom seemed to pour from tongue. She was definitely in treacherous waters whether she knew it or not. \"Friendliness is a two way street, mister.\" Wagging her finger at him, Faelyth now had a dull and bored expression on her face. This was slowly getting boring, and all she wished to do was have some fun.\n\nOne way or another." }, { "author": "Ser Edvard Eldebrand", "message": "Edvard scoffed slightly, a large grin breaking out under his helmet as the woman persisted. A pickpocket, that was certain. Edvard was a ragged man hidden under 50lbs of plate-mail. No woman in her right mind would be attracted to him, let alone this interested in sleeping with him. She wanted to steal what little coin was left. Take his sword, his helm, anything she could get her hands on. It was painfully obvious. Edvard stopped for a moment, however, caught in a trap of his own mental design. He wondered, just for a moment, if this was him refusing to move on. His love lay in Findara, untouchable and unknown. Perhaps this was just his way of reasoning his way out of finding love again. There was a vibrant opportunity right in front of him, yet he still clung to his love in a foreign land. He shook the thought from his head. He wasn't a fool. The woman was a thief, and his love hated him. He had a duty to uphold, and he would stop at nothing to fulfill it. \n\n\"Yes ma'am. I've been rejected far too many times and now view love as unachievable. You've cracked the case with your excellent social deduction skills. You must be magic or something of that ilk. Now, you best leave me to my infinite moping and go home.\" Edvard stared silently, his composure completely in-tact. He felt too tired to be upset. The helmet certainly helped with that. Perhaps seeing only a glimpse of the woman's face through the small slats in his helmet was aiding him in this process. Perhaps not. He continued to stand stoically, holding back the urge to burst into laughter at any moment. That, or tears. To be completely honest, the woman struck up many emotions within the man. Had she caught him a year or two earlier, his reaction was likely to have been far different. Whether he would've struck her across the face or found himself in her bed was unknown to him, and irrelevant as well. The years had numbed him, and here he stood, a stoic man." }, { "author": "Faelyth Duskryn", "message": "\"What if I have no home?\" The dark elf shrugged, now dancing around idly in front of the knight. Pacing back and forth, she now found herself wishing to pick this man's brain, moreso than his pocket at any case. In truth, Faelyth did not need money nor truly want it. She had what she needed with the Sisterhood. They offered her food, shelter, money, family. But it was all boring to the restless she-elf. Faelyth wished for excitement, something to keep her entertained. Whether it was combat, sex, murdering the innocent or toying with them mattered not to Faelyth. Now all this assassin was was determined, determined to learn more of this man.\n\nDrawing even closer, Faelyth raised a gloved hand and ran it along the knights chest plate. Looking up, her eyes were soft but hard to read. \"Would you offer me one for the night if I was needy enough?\" Tilting her head, it was impossible to read a man with a helmet over his head. Learning of people's desires and playing off them was a hobby of Faelyth's, but this man seemed to want nothing more than being a boring old statue. \"You are quite the enigma, sir.\" Removing her hand, Faelyth turned her back to the knight and shrugged. \"You refuse a woman to accompany you to bed for what reason? You afraid of little old me?\"\n\nLetting her head fall backward, Faelyth offered and upside down, playful smile, but deep down she knew he'd likely not crack. The assassin's patience was wearing down more quickly now, and soon she'd likely get bored enough to do nothing more than slink off into the darkness and leave the man to his boring life. One last try couldn't hurt though, right?\n\n\"If you're scared I'll steal your heart, I can assure you you'll never see me again after.\"" }, { "author": "Ser Edvard Eldebrand", "message": "\"You having no home certainly explains why you'd want to steal such a cheap necklace.\" \n\nEdvard sighed softly, shaking his head in dismay. Raising his hands to his chin, he quietly unbuckled the straps to his helmet, slowly lifting the heavy piece of steelwork off of his head to reveal his tired, ragged face. He was by no means unattractive, but he certainly made no effort to maintain an attractive look. His eyes were sunken in and darkened, showing signs of intense sleep-deprivation and insomnia. His beard was left scraggly and unkempt, clearly presenting the knight's need of a proper shave. One could find him attractive, he supposed. But he had hoped removing the helmet would send the woman away more than bring her closer. She seemed in dire need of finding answers to his mysterious position, and he found it better to give lackluster answers than keep her asking. He jostled the helmet for a moment, before finally securing it to his belt, pursing his lips as he tested to see if it would fall to the ground. He knew the helmet could take far more, but would rather avoid any unnecessary damage. Only then had it occurred to him that he had no placed himself open to attack, but it didn't matter much to him. Death couldn't come any sooner.\n\n\"If you need a place to stay, I can purchase you a room at the inn. You won't be sharing my bed. Frankly, I'm unsure why you would even want to. If you really want the 20 stags in my coin-purse, you could always just ask. No need to rip them from my belt in the morning.\" \n\nHe sighed slightly, motioning towards the inn. It was rather close. He had gotten free board as courtesy of the royal family. He had the money. He hadn't taken a liking to the woman, and blamed his decision making on a mix of him wanting to do the right thing and him wanting to get the thief off of the streets. Besides, he was sure there was plenty to steal from the cheap room. Plenty wooden cups and plates that'll fetch a copper or two at the market. Psh." }, { "author": "Faelyth Duskryn", "message": "Frowning at the snide comment, Faelyth turned to look at the night, her expression now one of irritation. All bets were off now. Before she could open her mouth to retort, the knight beat her to it. Faelyth's eyes widened as she watched the man reveal his face, but his talk of an ugly monster were false. In fact, she found a rugged man just as handsome as any other. Appearance truly didn't matter to the dark elf, but his expression caused her to step forward once more. Watching his eyes and movements carefully, Faelyth reached an arm up to place a hand against his chin and cheek, cupping it a bit as she did so. Though her gentle sign of compassion soon disappeared when the knight continued to be rude no matter what she did.\n\nGroaning and pulling her hand away, Faelyth rolled her eyes and shook her head. Turning her body to the side, the dark elf crossed her arms over her chest. Half way through this back and forth, Faelyth truly had let go of the potential of robbing him, and was genuinely more so interested in a night accompanied by, well, A knight. Now, the skilled and deadly assassin was left pouting like a child after being told by their mother one too many times. \"Did you ever think perhaps a woman simply wished to not spend her night alone?\" Glaring at the knight, Faelyth shook her head, finally giving up.\n\n\"I think I've finally solved you. You are either not interested in women at all and prefer a man in bed, or you've been rejected by a woman and now do the same. Tell me, have I struck a chord in you yet, Ser Statue?\" Irritated by the knight's demeanor, the dark elf gave him one last glare before deciding she had had enough. \"If you want me gone so bad, so be it. Perhaps I'll go rob a store.\" Joking about her plans for the evening with a scoff, Faelyth began to wander off into the darkness, but by all means could she be stopped if he wished to do so." }, { "author": "Ser Edvard Eldebrand", "message": "Edvard almost reeled at first, but leaned into the hand that touched his cheek, caught in utter surprise. It'd been a decade, hadn't it? His sunken shadows that may have passed as eyes long, long ago stared into Faelyth's, his expression completely flipped on its head. His stomach seemed to churn and his heart almost burst out of his plate armor, beating heavily against the thick bones of his ribcage. Truly, she looked nothing like her, but Edvard couldn't help but associate the young woman in front of him with the fair maiden of Findara. The common girl who dared begin her love with the Hedge Knight those years ago. Their hands, their eyes, their hair. They seemed to blend together in his mind, creating some wretched amalgamation of love Edvard feared so great. He wanted to smack the hand away and run, but was so struck he dared not move. As the hand fell from his face, he stepped back in shock, watching his composed demeanor fall to pieces in an instant. He seemed to choke on his saliva, knowing Otis was above him, cackling. Damned gods. Damned soul. Damned mind. Damn it all.\n\n\"I- no. Wa-wh. Ple-let no I-\" \n\nEdvard reached out, grabbing Faelyth by the wrist as she began to leave. He seemed to latch onto it like a child fearing the loss of their mother in a busy market-place. He softly gripped her wrist, not daring to clamp down to keep her from moving. Gently, he tugged forward, attempting to bring her somewhat closer. His mind justified his actions as his prevention of a future crime, as he had admitted to wanting to commit a crime, but he knew it wasn't true. Quickly, he shot his hand away from her wrist, his words seeming to blubber like sea-foam as he spoke. His face remained stoic, but with a desperate and despaired impression boiling like a storm on his visage. He once again didn't dare move, only staring into her eyes with the shadows he claimed were once striking brown daggers that saw the world in a much brighter light." }, { "author": "Faelyth Duskryn", "message": "Truth be told, the knight had genuinely gotten under Faelyth's skin with his words. It was hard to do, all things considered. This dark elf was a hard stone to crack indeed, but he had done it. Faelyth hated it when anyone had managed to throw her off of her normal groove and way of doing things. Normally, the chromancer was light on her feet, quick with her words and even quicker to shut others up. On occasion, she'd meet her match and call it a draw, and on even rarer instances Faelyth would find someone who bested her typical whit and left her speechless. While she didn't catch the way he had looked at her as her hand cupped his face, the slight yank of her wrist did cause Faelyth to reach her free hand to a blade at her side, but she hesitated to unsheathe it.\n\nTurning to look at him with fire in her multi-colored eyes, Faelyth's expression softened slightly but her guard was at its peek now. No one Touched her. Not without her permission of course. Nevertheless, her dagger stayed at her side but her free hand gripped tightly, so much so her hand was shaking. The Sisterhood had taught her to run if her life was truly in danger, and while panic had nestled its way into her throat and chest as her heart pounded, Faelyth's eyes remained calm and unreadable. \"Let-\" Before the dark elf could finish, the knight let her wrist go. Now, eerie silence settled between them.\n.\n\nAfter a few moments of intense staring, Faelyth slowly removed her hand from the hilt of her dagger and faced the knight. Curiosity had set in once more, as his stammering and shaking demeanor intrigued the dark elf deeply. She Had Struck a nerve. This was proving to be extremely interesting to Faelyth, and after swallowing hard and letting the tension die down ever so slightly, the assassin spoke in a soft but serious tone.\n\n\"You're an interesting man. Though it seems like you need a drink and some company rather than a body to share a bed with.\" Her brow furrowed slightly, almost with a look of pity and understanding before it disappeared quickly. Faelyth's yellow and blue hues searched the knight's eyes for any sign of violent intent before she nodded her head, gesturing for him to follow her. \"How about you buy me a room and I buy you a drink?\"" }, { "author": "Ser Edvard Eldebrand", "message": "Edvard's hand flung down to the hilt of his sword, wrapping around the pommel with intense frustration. Who was he? He had worked to uphold his stoic and unbreaking attitude. He had cultivated a reputation as a man who hated everything, someone who pushed all others away from him. Truth be told, he wanted that life. He wanted to be regarded as a useless relic of a dying age. As someone you'd rather avoid than speak to. He felt he deserved it. He liked the silence, too. Yet, this one random thief had reduced him to a blubbering child at the slightest touch. Frankly, he was ashamed of himself. He had promised to himself that he'd never form attachments. Yet, in the decade he had been in this wretched kingdom, he'd only recently broken this rule. He upheld it for all those years, yet now he looked back, and chose to dishonor his past. He respected his prince, rejected his superiors, and worried for Rikard. And now, he followed this woman, solely because she showed him the slightest compassion he had been missing so dearly. She still likely wanted his coin, but at this point, he didn't even know if he cared.\n\n\"If it keeps you from robbing a store, I'm willing to sit down. Just don't expect interesting conversation. I'm a very bland person.\" \n\nEdvard quickly ripped his helmet from his belt, slamming it back onto his skull in an attempt to hide his face from the woman. He was embarrassed. He quickly tried to resume himself to his more intimidating persona, but he knew it was for naught. Faelyth had sunk her claws into his softer-side, and he knew it. He had the feeling that this would be no ordinary bar conversation. This would be a test of mental constitution and fortitude. Something Edvard seemingly lacked this night. He sighed, softly, his hand falling from his sword as he made his way towards the Inn, making sure to keep behind Faelyth. He still didn't trust her, all things considered. His mind floated towards Rikard, imagining him ripping into him for this." }, { "author": "The Tale Weaver", "message": "*The two then traveled to the" } ]	445	5,338
430.666667	2023-08-30	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Ves", "message": "The sound of braying hounds echoed down the street and sent a shiver up the little kobold's spine. Instinctively she began to quicken her pace, weaving through the darkened streets with ease. Even at this late hour there were more people than she had expected. Her diminutive size allowed her to pass by mostly unnoticed. With her cowl hood up most assumed her to be a child playing some kind of game or rushing to get home. Only a glimpse of her tail or clawed feet would indicate otherwise. Yet no one seemed to give her much consideration. \n\nThe barking drew close behind her. Were they after her? Had she been followed? Or were the dogs simply a wild pack of mongrels? It didn't matter. Ves was startled enough to break out into a full sprint, turning quickly down an alley. It was a mistake. The dogs behind her howled again and charged. She glanced over her shoulder in time to see three large mutts closing in on her. \n\nPanicked now, the kobold looked around desperately. Spotting a pile of hastily stacked wood, she darted towards it. Scrambling up, slipping on loose bark, she made it just in time. The first dog lunged, snapping at her bare feet, missing by mere inches. Ves backed up against the side of the building where the wood was stacked. The dogs prowled below, sniffing and snarling, snapping at each other as they eyed their trapped quarry. One paused to lift a leg and Ves wrinkled her nose at the pungent odor.\n\nShe Hated Dogs.\n\nSighing, she leaned back against the wall and lifted her amber eyes towards the night sky. It had been a long journey and all she really wanted was a chance to rest. It seemed the gods had other plans for her.\n\nVes lowered her gaze and began to study her surroundings. There had to be a way out of her predicament. It appeared she had climbed a pile of firewood outside a blacksmith's shop, judging by the smell and the soot. Her tail flicked as she considered her options carefully. Jumping down was certainly out of the question. Her only way out was up. \n\nThe dogs below her growled, as though sensing her thoughts, and one leaped up and braced itself on its hind legs. Its front paws scrambled to find footing on the wood and its jaws snapped at the kobold's foot. Ves pressed back against the side of the building, drawing her legs up and out of reach. She had to do something and fast, before the beasts managed to use their combined weight to knock down the pile." }, { "author": "Theradin Flintbreaker", "message": "Theradin wiped the sweat off of his forehead as he began to clean his shop for the day. It was a good days work, he had finished engraving a longsword for a minor noble who was paying a fair bit. He put the sword in a chest and the tools in his place before dousing the fire. He had worked later than many folks would, but dwarves had a wierd sleep schedule to begin with. Looking around one last time, he went inside to tidy the storefront of his shop, before returning home.\n\nInside his shop he washed the soot off his hands quickly, before looking around, making sure everything was where it was supposed to be. He pulled out a notebook, and checked off the work he had done today. All that remained on the project was the inlays. Once that was finished he felt confident on closing up for a few weeks for his trip to the Chasm, and perhaps he would finally have some answers. He'd have to sort out someone to take orders while he was gone. He hoped this trip wouldn't prove to be to expensive, as he still hoped to be able to take in an apprentice to help out soon.\n\nHe spent a while cleaning up the last little bits, and it was as he was sweeping the floor that he heard quite the commotion outside. He looked up briefly, but it sounded just like a bunch of dogs barking. Not a whole lot unusual, but he decided it would best to hurry and close up shop. He went a short while longer, but the barking grew louder and louder. He looked out the window to see several dogs angry with something next to his shop. Annoyed by the mutts, he picked up a nearby hammer and walked outside to drive them off\n\n-\n\"QUIT YER YAPPIN' YE DARNED MUTTS!!\" He shouted, giving one dog who tried to leap at him a solid kick to the chest, sending it back with the rest of the pack. \"GO ON, GET!\" He turned around to see what had riled up the dogs so much. \"Darned mutts. The duke has got to get them taken care of, can't have them roaming the streets at night like this\" He muttered to himself, annoyed, as he walked to the side yard of his shop." }, { "author": "Ves", "message": "Ves felt her foot slip and made a little scream of pain as a mongrel bit down. Before the dog could tear her completely off-balance, a figure appeared in the nearby doorway. Perhaps it was the lighting, or perhaps it was Ves' own short stature, but the man seemed to Loom.\n\nAs he stepped forward, hammer in hand, the kobold was able to kick the dog holding her in the snout. The beast yelped and she twisted her foot out of its mouth, flinching backwards and further into the shadows. \n\nGet on! Git! The man boomed, kicking a lunging dog in the chest. Soon the entire pack was being chased off. Heart thundering in her chest, Ves looked down from her perch atop the woodpile, amber eyes reflecting the moonlight. Then suddenly the pile began to quiver and shake beneath her. The wood started to roll and with a yelp, the kobold stumbled down and landed in a heap at the figure's feet. \n\nFearing the worst, she threw her hands above her head to protect herself. \"Apologies! I didn't mean to disturb your night! Those dogs started chasing me and your woodpile was the closest thing I could reach! Please!\" She explained quickly." } ]	482	1,292
260	2021-12-01	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "taurking", "message": "A dry tankard clanked dryly against the wooden bar, the sound of utensils scraping wood drogging through the room as the shapeshifting Roc, Lucius, ate a pathetically small meal of stew and bread. His chest was deflated moreso than usual, a spark that used to roar (or rather, screech) malevolently in him simply hushed to an inaudible whimper, his dull drab leather tunic, leggings, and boots soaking the colour out of his surroundings with self-loathing and wounded pride.\nAs of lately, things had not been well for the shaggy shapeshifter, as evidenced by the fact he dined in an inn instead of an unfortunate ox or sheep whilst soaring to town on not-so-metaphorical wide wings. Nobody seemed to want to travel, leaving him nobody to take from, which meant another hoarse day where his spirit simply turned to liquid.\n\"Egh..\" Lucius proclaimed after his eighth bite of stew soaked bread, unaccustomed to the taste of truly prepared food and bread, both of which were not choice picks of large predatory birds such as Lucius. \n\"Could have at least left some fine cut in there, eh?\" He indirectly muttered at the innkeeper, who gave him a disgusted stinkeye and a firm 'No' in response, most likely regretting leasing a room to the unfortunate shapeshifter." }, { "author": "totalwartitan", "message": "Nearby Theradin the Smith sat by the fire, plucking the strings of his lyre. Dwarves were by no means uncommon in these parts, and a few in the tavern had stopped to listen to the smith. He was known for his love of the old tales, and while most thought him crazy, none could deny his suprising passion for the tales nearly matched his skill as a smith. He slowly plucked the mornful tune, before beginning to sing in Dwarvish. The long, deep voice echoed through the room, and the tavern, although not quiet, was made significantly more so by his quiet singing, as several patrons stopped to listen.\n\nHis song continued for a few minutes, the long notes flowing together, but a distinct driving undertone beneath it all. Eventually the song closes out, plucking a few more chords, before falling slient, the last note seeming to linger for a moment before the bustle of the tavern resumes. He converses briefly with a few of the other dwarves, before sitting back down to enjoy his own meal." }, { "author": "taurking", "message": "Lucius, only one empty seat apart from the dwarf, gives them a hard to read look before taking an unnecessarily time consuming bite of his bread and stew, grimacing softly as though the food had offended him in some strange way, but he was too exaspirated to do anything about it.\n\"So you sing and play? Quite a talent you have, no? Seems everyone respects you around here enough to shut up for a few gods forsken moments.\" The shapeshifter comments idly, his tone veiled under a careful layer of steel, not sounding particularly annoyed or relieved at the fact.\nShifting in his seat, Lucius spins his spoon in his hand a few times, eventually flicking it to rest in his neigh-empty bowl and his half-eaten bread roll, both of which are severely cold after how long he took to eat his shrewd meal. Of course, he was by no means poor, but definitely had an extremely fair amount of wealth that audibly clanked and jangled in his saddlebag slung across his shoulder as he moved. His attire was simple and clearly worn, but not a single hole could be found in his entire outfit, and his boots were shined to the point they appeared almost-new, leaving no chance to mistake the 'man' for a beggar." } ]	267	780
197	2021-12-02	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "totalwartitan", "message": "'He shrugged. \"I do a little. But I am no minstrel. I live in the Greenheart Forest, where I help run a shop, smithing. I just like our old dwarven tales. That song was one my grandfather enjoied singing.\" He let out a deep breath, as though lost in thought. \"Whelp. No use in old songs except as rest from the day-to-day. So what brings you to Lerwick?\" \n\nHe put his lyre down as he spoke. It was clear that this stranger had a reason to be here. Why else would this man, evidently quite wealthy man, be here eating bread and stew in an inn's common room. Lerwick wasn't a town known for its wealth, or as a popular vacation destination, being just a small mining town. Perhaps it had something to do with those said mines. Yes. He had to have been a shareholder or something. Good thing he didn't live here. Wouldn't want his boss getting mad at him. Not that he had a boss." }, { "author": "taurking", "message": "Lucius eyes the dwarf suspiciously for a moment before giving in with a heaving sigh, unsure why he bothered to hold such conversations. It seemed such a waste of time, not to mention how hard it was to eat people you knew (which he knew from experience, enough said on That Matter).\n\"Hrm, well- I'm only here because nobody seems to be travelling around enough. Nothing to get, nothing to do. Lerwick happened to be close buy, I was particularly hungry, so I decided why not spend a few nights? I've little else to do than.. Well, nothing. After all, it was a decent flight here.\"\nLucius responds in a slightly more present tone than before, some of his words still obviously concealing some deeper meaning not verbaly stated, but absolutely present in some form. Through his words, he let the word 'flight' slip through his filter as the idea was simply on his mind at the moment and he was too busy internally grovelling to pay particular attention. \n\"Of course, there's the town to be about, but a little decrepit mining town isn't particularly anything I could personally use to get around on..\"" }, { "author": "Poppet", "message": "At the loud creak of the Inn door opening, a small fairy rushes in with multiple weapons in her arms, her goggles beginning to fall off her head. A tiny mechanical dragon flies in after the fairy, occasionally holding a stray weapon part up with its head so Poppet doesn't drop her items. Its wings making an awkward clanking sound as it does so.\n\n \"I don't understand why he couldn't have just come down to the shop but whatever, he's paying extra,\" She muttered under her breath, whilst placing the weapons on the Inn's front desk.\n\n Fixing her goggles, Poppet waited for the innkeeper to appear. A large Orc emerges from the backroom, eying the tiny fairy-sized weapons lying on his desk. \"Yes?\" He questions.\n\n\"These are to go to room 26, wait no, 27!\" Poppet scratches her head, \"Yes, room number 27,\" She says firmly. Her tiny dragon bauble nodded its head to confirm.\n\n\"These little things? Why would a Loxodon have any use for those?\" The innkeeper shook his head laughing under his breath, thinking the small fairy could be pulling a joke on him. \n\nPoppet narrowed her eyes and returned the weapons to their normal size. \"See? Now you better be carrying those to my customer's room,\" She said, annoyed.\nThe innkeeper's eyes grew as he nodded quickly, as he rushed off to room number 27 to gather the resident for the fairy.\n\nResting atop the front desk, Poppet tinkered absentmindedly with her bauble, while looking around the Inn at the patrons." }, { "author": "Theradin Blackhelm", "message": "\"So you wander because your bored? Understandable.\" He responded, not initially noticing the mention of flight. \"I sometimes think I'd like to see the world, but I have no reason to other than just curiosity. I'm content with my life, smithing, wandering the woods, visiting my parents every now and then, and just keep going, you know what I mean?\" He thought for a few seconds. \"Then again, I still want to learn more tales to sing. I want to find a library that actually has some of our folklore. Poppet thinks I'm crazy.\"\n\nAt this moment he heard a familiar high-pitched voice. What was Poppet doing here he wondered. Probably work-related, the fairy almost never took a break. \n\n\"Well speak if the devil.\" He muttered before turning towards the fairy. \"Poppet! What are you doing here? Come on, have a seat.\" He spoke jovially, gesturing to the empty chair." }, { "author": "taurking", "message": "The shapeshifter grimaced, not fully content on sitting next to two yapping strangers, but by the gods, what else could he do? Tapping the bar twice with a fair amount of force, the innkeeper turns his attention back to Lucius as the Roc slides a fair amount of coin over the bar, mumbling nothing more than \"Wine, best you got.\" Before spinning around slowly to inspect the new source of noise even more closely. Poppy? Or was it Paupit? Hard to remember things you hardly care about nowadays.\nAs the fairy shoved their weapons to th orc, Lucius picked upbinterest sligjtly . This fairy certainly had some attiude about them to challenge the temper of an orc of all things.. But ah- anither passing face to go forget to wine! He took a silent sip from th cup, enjoying the acrid taste." }, { "author": "Poppet", "message": "Poppet turned around, her eyes widening with recognition when she saw the dwarf. \"Theradin! Hi friend! I'm delivering some weapons to a client,\" She answered, \"One who seems to be too lazy to come out of his room and pick up his purchases,\" She added. The fairy flies over to the duo and sits on the empty chair, bringing her dragon trinket with her, setting it on the table. \"What about you? What are you doing at an inn?\"\n\nLooking over to shapeshifter, Poppet waved with a smile. \"And who are you? Are you friends with Theradin here? Though of course, who wouldn't want to be friends with him!\" Poppet laughed, rambling on." }, { "author": "taurking", "message": "The shapeshifter snorted, not offended but not necessarily making a definite statement on the matter, at the fairies' statement. Loud and talkative seemed to be their type, and already Lucius felt the coils within his body tightening at the prospect.\n\"A friend would be quite the overstatement, farie.\" He drank-spoke, sipping wine at every pause as though he'd never get another cup again in his life to drink a mere drop of wine.\nTrying his best to melt into his seat, the shapeshifter made himself ready to sit up and leave at a moment's notice, unsure what to make of the situation at hand. Did he continue to listen in, or go about enjoying his drink and meal? Frankly, both sounded equally tempting, so, of course, he decided to do both, offering a short additional comment to the fairy.\n\"But anyone can hate anyone. I'd know as much, being myself.\" He added as though it were not a strange thing to say for most people." }, { "author": "Theradin Blackhelm", "message": "He chuckled a little. \"I wouldn't say we're friends yet. Just enjoying a polite conversation. So you say a customer wouldn't come out of the room for their order? What on earth do they want with it then? To lazy to leave the room, to lazy to use the weapons.\"\n\nHe thought for a bit. \"I'm just visiting family. My father retired last year, and wanted to do something nice for his anniversary, I'm helping him organize it without mother finding out. You wouldn't happen to know how to hide a sheepdog in an open field would you?\" He said mischievously." }, { "author": "Poppet", "message": "\"Ah, I see. Well, I myself love making new friends!\" Poppet said, ignoring the shapeshifter's statement.* The tiny fairy was curious and was interested in the new being. Blowing a piece of stray hair out of her face, the fairy asked a nearby barmaid for a drink to join him.\n\n\"I couldn't really care what he uses it for, as long as I get a good coin for it!\" Poppet replied to the dwarf with a smile. Looking back to the front desk, she wished the innkeeper would hurry up with her coin.\n\"To answer your question, unfortunately no, I don't, but I wish I did!\" The small being laughed." }, { "author": "taurking", "message": "Instead, the shapeshifter once again pitched in. \"What would one person need with so many weapons, anyways? They must be raising an army of hundreds of flowers!\" Lucius stated in a slightly higher pitch, which was as close to a joke as he got, which was saying a lot.\nNoticing the one he believed named Puppets (what a curious name) was not getting their order very quickly, Lucius tapped as he had previously on the counter- two heavy taps- which caught the unreluctant gaze of the innkeeper. Sliding a meager amount of his own coin along with Puppets' coin to make them hurry up, he looked back towards the fairy.\n\"You smith your own weapons then, fairy? An impressive feat for your kind, I must imagine.\" He adds in a completely sincere tone, not consciously meaning to appear as if mocking the fairy, but it was simply within his nature to spit out such language towards others he didn't view as equals." }, { "author": "Poppet", "message": "The fairy cracked a smile, seeming to believe that the shapeshifter was warming up to her. \"Yes, I run a shop that produces all kinds of weapons and trinkets. You should visit, I'll even give you a discount! My shop is located on the outskirts of the Greenheart Woods,\" Poppet explained. Even though the talkative fairy may look innocent, the weapons maker was quite feisty.\n\nGetting a little annoyed at how long her client was taking, Poppet decides to get her coin for herself. I'll be back in a moment, chaps!\" Leaving her bauble at the table, the small artificer makes her way towards room 27." } ]	203	2,167
177.6	2021-12-04	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Theradin Blackhelm", "message": "\"You'll get used to her energy after a while. Always about getting stuff done. Rarely takes time to slow down and appreciate the finer things in life.\" \n\nHe drank from his mug of water before continuing. \"I usually do most of the actual smithing. She spends most of her time fiddling with different contraptions. At least once a day a prototype fails spectacularly, and she'll spend a few minutes in a frenzy trying to put it back together.\"\n\nHe thought about the customer in room 27. He hoped Poppet would remain polite, despite the annoyance she was certainly facing with a customer who wouldn't pick up the supply. He hoped she wouldn't get in trouble." }, { "author": "taurking", "message": "\"Interesting. I'd almost feel tempted to buy something if I didn't smith things myself. Albeit you probably couldn't tell,\" Lucius spouts, hanging for a moment onto the unfinished sentence, unsure if it would be wise to share such information, but deciding he could simply shapeshift if he got in any sort of trouble, he decided to complete his statement. \"But I have my own smithed weapon. I can't say it's perfect, but silver is quite a metal in a place filled with folk like me.\" The shapeshifter finishes, not clarifying on his finishing statement. Instead, pulling out the shortsword of silver out of a cleverly hidden scabbard on his hip, he laid it down on the bar table to display, a proud gleam in his eyes as he gazed at it.\nBy no means was the sword perfect, being fairly chipped at the tip as if the soft metal had been used to parry quite a lot, a singular set of claw marks shallowly etched in from the middle of the blade to the hilt, and the entire blade had the distinct appearance of some strange armour rather than a sword as though its creator had simply not been fluent in weaponsmithing, instead almost appearing as a long piece of strange armour. Despite all the defects in the worn blade, it was still clearly polished, sharp, and Lucius almost struggled to tear his gaze from it for a moment." }, { "author": "Poppet", "message": "The annoyed fairy flew swiftly out of the room, carrying a small bag of coin. A shout could be heard behind her, cursing her and her mother. Poppet chuckled to herself, and sat back down at the table with the duo. \"Nothing a little trickery couldn't fix!\" She explained. \n\nThe fairy propped her tiny feet up on the table with a sigh. \"So- what did I miss?\" She asked with a grin, picking up her bauble and continuing to tinker with it, almost if she hadn't even left." }, { "author": "Theradin Blackhelm", "message": "\"Well the fact that you can work with silver alone is impressive enough. Silver makes bad weapons, only useful against certain magical phenomenon, such as out-of-control shapeshifters or vampires or whatever other beasty you run into.\" He spoke with genuine respect towards Lucian, crafting a good weapon out of so soft a metal was no small feat.* \"I myself will merely line the blade with silver. Just as effective, without the drawbacks.\"\n\nHe looked up as Poppet flew into the room. He rubbed his forehead as he heard the customer shout after her. \"What did you do this time Poppet? Don't tell me you made the swords out wood painted grey again.\"" }, { "author": "taurking", "message": "Lucius sat frozen for a moment at the dwarf's idea of lining swords in silver, stunned at their words. Why hadn't he thought of that? It was such an ingenious idea yet so simple that it was truly a shame he hadn't done it himself.\nSelf-consciously picking his silver shortsword back up, he slid it back into its scabbard, unsure what to think of the dwarf. Most any other time, Lucius would have scoffed at any concept of an idea being better than his own, but the concept was so basic it made him fee agitated that he hadn't done so himself.\nAfter a moment of silence, the shapeshifter picked back up. \"Oh, well, I'm sure there's plenty reason for a full silver sword, too. You know, werecreatures hate the stuff, and I can attest to that. But.. Maybe I shall try again and melt this thing down to something more useful.\"" } ]	145	888
173	2021-12-05	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Poppet", "message": "With a cheeky grin, Poppet shook her head. \"A fairy never reveals her secrets, Theradin.\" With curious eyes, the tiny being listened to the two's conversation. \"A sword you say? Can I see!\" Poppet asked, excited about the idea of a weapon she's never seen before." }, { "author": "Theradin Blackhelm", "message": "He rubbed his forehead, frustrated at Poppet's continued antics. \"I'm not talking him down this time Poppet. He's your problem.\" \n\nHe turned back to Lucius, his tone changing from frustrated to his prior impressed tone. \"I'll tell you the purpose of a pure silver blade, bragging rights! If anyone ever doubts your skill, show them that. Yeah it's not much of a looker, but it's a solid silver blade! His mind was racing, trying to figure out how to make a similar blade. Casting it might work, but that would be very difficult to do without imperfections. Since it was so soft it would have nearly impossible to forge like iron. Maybe with lower temperatures, or magical assistance." }, { "author": "taurking", "message": "Shifting back into a coarser mood at the return of the fairy, Lucius eyed them for a moment. They sure seemed to get a lot of trouble from this particular client. It occured to him that most courteous folk would have offered assistance by now, but Lucius almost cracked himself up imagining himself doing anything 'helpful' for another, common, and particularly annoying creature.\n\"If you must.\" Lucius sighed, unsheathing his battered blade once more and flashing it about in a still fairly prideful manner. He was always one to flaunt and flex his wealth and abilities, albeit he'd of course never explain the only reason how he managed to forge such a blade, being only an armoursmith himself and not a weaponsmith. He distinctly remembered the months of accumulating the metal alone, then figuring out the magic those many years past.. A true pain he'd never go through the mistake of attempting again, if he had any say.\n\"You know, I've had this blade since I was a simple brancher. I originally made it because I used to fear other shapeshifters, but of course I've little reason to fear them now. How nature turns the tables, eh?\" The shapeshifter elaborates, getting marginally sucked into his pride as he explained without regard for secrecy. Of course, he didn't expect anyone to put two and two together, so in the end no big deal, right? Of course not." } ]	157	519
172.714286	2021-12-12	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "The Weaver of Stories", "message": "The night was completely clear. Not a single cloud seemed to cover the endless void above, but stars littered the empty space, alongside a nearly full moon. It was beautiful, such a clear sky was a rare sight, especially in the northern regions of Lucidien. As Theradin laid his head to rest in the room he was renting in the Miner's Daughter Inn, sleep would come quickly and peacefully. For a long while, that peace remained, until a faint light began to ever so slowly consume the dwarf's vision. That bright light would soon reveal itself as the sun, and Theradin would find himself standing in a beautiful open field. Birds chirped flew around happily, and the feeling of peace would wash over the dwarven man.\n\nIn the far, far distance, a massive castle stood, one that Theradin would not recognize in the slightest. The banners that hung depicted that of a griffin, the colors gold and white. Again, nothing Theradin would remotely recognize." }, { "author": "Theradin Blackhelm", "message": "He squinted at the distant fortress, watching the banners flutter in the wind. He wondered who ruled that majestic fortress, and what house that banner belonged to. It certainly wasn't a Royal banner of Alynthi, nor was it any Noble house he recognized. He doubted it was Findara or Kishfire, so then who was the banner? He suddenly realized he had no idea where he was. He looked around, and while the scenery was beautiful, he didn't recognize any of it. Left without a better choice, and perhaps to satisfy his curiosity, he started off towards the castle." }, { "author": "The Weaver of Stories", "message": "As the dwarf made his way towards the castle, the sounds of the castle and those dwelling within it soon reached the man's ears. Conversations, the sounds of metal clanging rhythmically, and just the familiar sound of a city thriving. The closer her drew, the more quickly he would realize the majority of the people he could see were the same as he; dwarves. Many were carrying types of armor or weapons around, and it looked a lot as though they were preparing for some sort of battle. Guards clad in glorious golden armor stood guard outside entrances into the main castle. None of the passersby seemed to notice or even realize Theradin was there, as if he were nothing more than a ghost passing through." }, { "author": "totalwartitan", "message": "He walked up, marveling at the shear numbers of dwarves. They were by no means rare back home, but it seemed here was a kingdom largely made of dwarves. Almost like the old times. He pushed the thought aside for the moment. Time travel? Bah, impossible. Even so, perhaps one of them had more tales to tell, perhaps a complete history of his people. \n\nBut as he went to go find a library, he stopped. So many weapons, so much armor, and the guards on the walls looked out not with the bored face of men at peace, but with the stoicism of men at war. He walked up to one dwarf, and said \"Hello? I've gotten lost, where am I and what's going on?\"" }, { "author": "The Weaver of Stories", "message": "As Theradin called out to anyone who may hear him, a dwarf seemed to walk right through him, solidifying the fact that no one could see or hear him. As he began to walk through the city, the hustle and bustle of each passing dwarf hard at work seemed to never end. Each dwarf was busy, but the strangest thing was the amount of humans present. Sure, shapeshifters looked just like them out of their animal form but, even then there seemed to be none even remotely showing their animal side if that's what they were. Even they were hard at work, it seemed. Preparing.\n\nPreparing.\n\nTime seemed to move normally, but eventually the sounds of screams coming from where Theradin had entered the kingdom caused all to stop and look at what caused it. A shape seemed to block out the sun above, and that shape turned into many; hundreds, even. Dwarves and humans alike began to run frantically, grabbing weapons and throwing armor on as quickly as they could. But what were those shapes in the sky that seemed to block out the sun..?" }, { "author": "Theradin Blackhelm", "message": "He was instantly filled with a sense of dread. The sights were new, and the sounds, but this line of events, the dark shape, seemed awfully familiar. The old songs, the ones he seemed alone in his passing interest, were playing out in front of him. But none of the songs told of the true terror, the only ones he knew of where of the old kingdom's past glory, or of victory against various foes, such as orcs, or fire elementals, no doubt he had lost the thousands of years of context. But as he thought, one verse came to him, a song his grandfather used to sing, but he had forgotten most of it. But one verse stood clear as he watched the shape, fly overhead.\n\n\"The dragon's ire,\nMore fierce than fire,\nLay low their towers\nAnd houses frail\n\nIt was with a sense of dread he rushed towards the keep, maybe he could find out where and when he was, to preserve. And perhaps he could save them. He ran with all speed" }, { "author": "The Weaver of Stories", "message": "As dwarves and humans alike began to build their defenses and prepare themselves for whatever it was that was attacking, Theradin would run through the streets only to be stopped in his tracks at the sight of a glorious dwarven man. Walking down the path from the castle, a trove of armored guards following behind him, as he walked through the street on the back of a griffin. \"Stand tall! Stand together! They shall not see the end of this day! For Leteron!\" The griffin reared back, and as it let out an immense screech, Theradin would be pulled from his slumber, sweaty and gasping for air." } ]	158	1,209
527	2022-02-17	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Shensara Redmane, The Red Witch", "message": "\"Tsk, damn.\" Shensara cursed to herself, realizing her coin was running low. Frowning as she peered into her pouch, the minstrel that played within the tavern she found herself in sounded beautiful and ominous all at once, and soon the the young witch found herself gently swaying to the tune before darting her orange eyes over to look where it had come from. Honing in on a dwarven bard, Shensara flicked her ears curiously before taking note of the bulletin board that sat close to him. Well, she was in need of coin, and a bounty was the best place to start. As the crowd that surrounded the dwarf began to disperse and the music die down, Shensara made her way over to view the various notices posted upon it. Monster hunting? Nah. A.. Missing kitten? Probably wouldn't get any coin from that.\n\nFinally, Shensara's eyes fell upon the notice that unbeknownst to her for now, the dwarf had put up. Reading over it, an expression of deep thought caused the faun's brows to furrow, before she turned and made her way over to the dwarf. Taking a seat in front of him, the faun woman offered a smile before introducing herself. \"Shensara Redman, at your service sir.\" Shensara was a rather short faun, with beautifully curly red locks that draped along her back. Strands of her fiery red hair were intertwined and curled around for four horns each, and large goat-like ears shot out on either side of her head, dipping downward in a gentle angle. Dressed in an elegant but simply black and brown dress, the revealing clothing allowed her many runic tattoos to be on full display, but whether the dwarf recognized runes was undetermined. All were either satyr or witch in origin, and covered nearly every inch of her skin below her chin.\n.\n\n\"I saw you're notice, Mr. Blackhelm and I'd like to offer my assistance.\" While she didn't know too much of the expedition or adventure that the dwarf had planned, curiosity had quite the hold on the faun woman. Funnily enough, the faun was a few inches shorter than the dwarf, something Blackhelm most likely didn't experience all too often what with shapeshifters, orcs, elves and various other tall races being more common than dwarves or satyrs combined. \"I will say, until I know all of this 'adventure' and how much coin you'd be offering, my decision to join you will not be made. I of course have to consider where we'd be going, what we'd be doing, and how much money I'd be making. I'm not stingy, and if there's a possibility to find my own loot along the way, the coin out of your pocket will considerably lessen.\" A chuckle left the well-spoken witch's mouth before she waved down a waitress and ordered a mere glass of water.\n\n\"I will also say, your song was beautiful Mr. Blackhelm. I'd offer coin for such a performance if it wasn't going straight back into my pocket.\" The faun mused once more, and as the waitress returned with her drink, Shensara took a sip and sighed. A small creature soon emerged from within her mane, a blue fae dragon who was peering out at the dwarf and tavern curiously. Resting in Shensara's hair like a nest, the dragon curled up and yawned, before dosing off once more. Shensara on the other hand didn't seem to notice or care, as the little fae creature was her closest friend and companion." }, { "author": "Juilius Ciaran", "message": "\"This place looks busy.\" Julius spoke as the head of the armour peered through one of the windows. The armour watched the start of a performance, that was hopefully sweet in sound. As Julius opened the door it was clear the armour needed to get down to enter. Once inside Julius nearly stood to his full height still not sure how high the ceiling is. But the music was delightful. The helmet of the knight faced the small dwarf seemingly happy with the performance. Julius then noticed a board near the dwarf after looking over everyone's head. The 'eyes' of the figure glanced over each task. The one about the missing kitten brought a hint of sadness to the man, but the thought of it being long dead was there denying him from taking up that 'bounty'.\n\nEventually Julius settled on the task assigned by the dwarf well after the crowd cleared and some red head faun had started talking to the dwarf. Eventually Julius started a slow walk over to the board, getting a better look at the task. It did intrigue Julius as going down into the Great Chasm was on the bucket list for the 'immortal'. The armour stood behind the faun and in front of the dwarf after the small dragon was so peacefully resting in the red hair. \n\nThe armour of Julius had chips and scratches from head to toe. And signs of age in the metal were defiantly apparent. If the armour had someone in side they'd be near impossible to see with the height of the armour and the amount of body it would cover. But it is a shame nothing more than a soul in habits the armour. \n\nHaving heard the faun speak, Julius spoke, \"Mr. Blackhelm, it was a lovely tune you played. I inquire about your task listed on the board.\"" }, { "author": "Surbi, the Tiny Tinker", "message": "A very short Kobold sat in the second row as the show began. Amber eyes stared eagerly at the stage through a pair of thick turtle-shell glasses as the music began, then, as soon as music began to fill the room, someone took a seat in front of her. Leaving nothing but her wide-brimmed hat visible in the collection of folk who'd gathered to hear a song. She sighed, her muddy brown scales furrowing as she frowned. She would have to settle, then, for only being able to listen to the music as it was played. So, listen she did, and she enjoyed the show. As it finished, the Kobold clapped enthusiastically for the dwarven man that had seen it fit to serenade them, and got up to resume her previous activity, searching for employment. She slid off of the chair, and as her claws finally made contact with the floor again, she started over to the bounty board, and browsed the papers. A missing kitty? Sad, but not the testing ground she was hoping for with Harold. Monster hunting? Oh, hell no. A creature like her was bite-sized to most monsters. She wasn't going to be tackling that alone. In her moment of brief thought, she found something that seemed a bit more her speed. Seeking to form an adventuring party, with the request being submitted by... The musician. Huh. How convenient that the employer so happened to be here.\n\n.\nSurbi turned to make her way toward the table where the dwarf now sat, and it would appear she wasn't the only one who had taken interest in the posting, as there were two already present at the table. A redheaded fawn woman, and a very tall man in a suit of armor. Surbi swallowed softly, dressed in her simple blue robes and leather bracings, she didn't give off quite the same air as the other two. Hanging over her shoulder were two medium-sized leather pouches, the soft clanking of glass could be heard rattling around within them as she stopped by the table side. Just her eyes and hat poking over the edge of the table toward the dwarf. As she spoke, her voice seemed meek, and light.\n\n\"Excuse me, but um... I'm h-here about your listing on the board over there. If you'll h-h-have me... Oh- and your song was beautiful, Mister Blackh-helm.\"" }, { "author": "Theradin Blackhelm", "message": "Theradin was putting his instrument into it's case when the three fellows walked up. He was loosening the pegs on his lyre so he didn't stretch out the strings in storage, and he looked up at the gathering individuals. With a smile he said, \"I'm glad you all liked the show. I recently wrote that song inspired by some historical research I recently did, although I'll admit the particular event I described is fictional. But even so, I hope it worked out for you. Normally I'll throw a bit of illusion magic in to act out the events I'm singing about, but since it's a new song I haven't figured out all the details of it yet.\"\n\n.\nHe placed the lyre in it's case, latching it shut, before pulling out some parchments, with hastily written notes jotted down across it's surface. \"As for the request for adventurers, during my trip to the capital I uncovered an interesting reference in my historical studies.\" He turned to a page in his notes with a crude map drawn depicting northern Alynthi, and the frontier with Gantrick. He layed it out on a nearby table, and pointed to a route he had sketched out leading to the Great Chasm. \"I discovered that some ruins, untouched by sentient beings since before the Great Dying lay in the Chasm. Ruins of, believe it or not, a Dwarven kingdom that existed alongside Leteron. The books say the dwarves where excellent craftsmen and inventors, and that they made the weapons that brought down the dragons. If such ruins do exist it could open up untold possibilities should any lost craft survive down there. But, given it's location, I do expect it to be rather... Difficult to investigate thoroughly. I'm assembling a scouting expedition, to go get the lay of the land and do a little exploration if possible, although that might be tricky considering the rumors of beasts. What I'm mostly looking for is information. If any of you are familiar with the area, by all means tell me what you know, but we're going to go take a look at what's down there, and hopefully find enough archeology to warrant a bigger expedition. As for payment, considering I am only one man, I do hope that 25 crowns a person will be enough to compensate you for your efforts, and I apologize I cannot afford to pay more.\"" } ]	498	2,108
448.5	2022-02-18	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Shensara Redmane, The Red Witch", "message": "Before Theradin could even have a chance to respond, Shensara's eyes quickly widened as a hulking figure drew closer to them. Having an entire five feet on the poor little faun woman, the witch quickly felt minuscule in the figure's presence. Shen's ears fell flat to her head, and as he stood right behind her she could only tilt her head back and look up toward the man. While no words formed in her mouth, it was obvious she was intimidated, and as he revealed her wished to accompany them on this quest, Shen gulped. Her tan skin was a bit more pale, but as long as the figure beneath all that armor was on their side, she could get used to him, though it would take time. With the commotion of the armored figure, Shensara didn't even notice the kobold that had also approached, and only looked over when the small lizard-woman spoke.\n\nTilting her head, Shensara's heart calmed a bit when she saw another small figure, and woman mind you, would be joining their adventure. Smaller than even Shensara, the witch felt immediately protective over the small kobold, and as she saw the little figure struggling to see over the table, Shensara raised her hand as magic glowed from her palm. The kobold would be lifted slightly, almost as if there were an invisible stool for her to step on. Now a bit of her chest was over the line of the table, allowing her to stand normally and be seen a bit better by the rest of the party. While the witch hoped the kobold wouldn't be offended in any way, Shensara turned back to pay attention to Theradin nonetheless, offering no more than a kind nod in the small lizard-woman's way.\n.\n\nThe dwarf's findings fascinated Shensara, so much so that the amount of coin she'd be receiving nearly went over her head. \"Oh..\" The witch mused to herself, listening to the possible things they'd find beneath the earth. While the faun wasn't big on history, she did of course know the story of The Great Dying. Dragons and humans fought one another, but the story never mentioned dwarves, if she recalled. This would be an extremely important find, indeed. Especially for Theradin's race. That was enough then for her to help. \"What sort of beasts if I might ask? I'm rather well versed in enchantment, so some beasts I may just be able to ward off with a kind word or two.\" Shensara chuckled to herself with a shrug." }, { "author": "Juilius Ciaran", "message": "The Armour had glanced down after another voice spoke seeing a small draconic looking creature. Julius was confused why such an odd group wanted to take part in some expedition. A faun which Julius thought would of preferred to stay out of this type of business. Along with an even smaller Kobold, he hoped they were capable of magic that would compensate for the lack of evident physical strength of the pair. Funnily enough Julius did not question the strength of a dwarf, due to experience in fights with many.\n\nOnce the dwarf went into detail about the task at hand, Julius looked down with the armour letting a slight creak and groan from the metal plates. It drowned out most of the information given until the words 'Great Dying' were spoken, that is when Julius piped up and listened. When the dwarf spoke on about excellent craftsmen, Julius could not deny the fact. They made things from rings to weapons that still marvel him. After all if it was not for the dwarfs it is possible Julius could of had a drastically shorter life. The foggy memory of Julius tried to identify which kingdom of dwarfs it was, but it came to no avail, seemingly too long of a time to remember the name.\n\nJulius did not care bout coin it was now a personal endeavour to head down to the depths of the chasm. If anything remained that could forge the weapons of old, would be vital to his purpose. When the part of information came up Julius could vaguely remember the layout of one Dwarven 'settlement' he visited during the 'Dying' but for the life of him could not remember where it was. \n.\n\n\"The coin is good.\" Julius spoke after the small faun's pause after hearing the price. Then hearing the faun go on about spells Julius hoped that the faun was a near expert at casting and not some novice. Despite the physical capability of the Armour, Julius was unsure he'd be able to properly act in defence. The Armour creaked once more as it looked down at the 'small' party, he sure hoped it be a walk in the park." }, { "author": "Surbi, the Tiny Tinker", "message": "Surbi opened her mouth to speak again, but her train of thought was interrupted by an abrupt force that seemed to lift her up about six inches. Eliciting a little squeaky \"Eep\" As she looked to the fawn, almost awaiting some sort of follow-up spell that never actually came, much to her relief. As she took a brief moment to regain her composure, adjusting the glasses on her nose which had slid down as she jerked in response to the magic. The things that Mister Blackhelm had spoken to her of were most appealing indeed. A scholar and curious at heart, as soon as she heard what they'd be investigating, the amount of coin no longer mattered to her.\n\n.\n\"Thank you.\" She nodded to the fawn. \"The money is more than enough. The discoveries are what I'm in it for now.\" She said, wide eyes locking on Theradin, which seemed even larger past the intense magnifications of her glasses. \"Even if it turns out to be dangerous, I've got some training in magic. I'm not the best, but...\" She began to rummage around in her pockets and pouches, seemingly looking for something. As she looked down, she had nearly forgotten that her feet were still dangling below her, swaying softly in her moment of enthusiasm. She resumed her search nonetheless, and proceeded to remove a small bundle of brass and gears. As she placed it on the table, it remained entirely inert. Which seemed to shock her. She tapped it gently with one of her claws. \"...I've also got a little expedition buddy. H-Harold... Time to wake up.\" And, with this little bit of encouragement, the gears spun to life. Brass limbs slowly unfurled, and in a matter of seconds, sitting on the tabletop was a brass spider, but in place of eyes, there were shining black pearls, and in place of fangs, two needles, which were loaded with a nasty looking substance. The metal critter crawled back to the Kobold's hand and up her arm. Finding a resting spot on her shoulder, which it was just barely small enough to reside on. Even from there, mechanical clicking and whirring could be heard, and for the deeply magically inclined, they would note incredibly Tiny Runes marking the exoskeleton of the contraption.\n\n\"I know we don't look like much, and I'm most definitely not as p-powerful as-\" She let her gaze trail to where the armored individual stood, and she was now able to fully appreciate the sheer size of whoever stood underneath it. She quickly looked away, as tilting her head back so far made her dizzy. She was used to being small, even compared to some kobolds, but she felt as though she barely reached the knee plating of the armor.\n\n\"As this large guy, but I think I was made for such a task.\"" }, { "author": "Theradin Blackhelm", "message": "Theradin beamed at the response of the adventures, pulling out some coins, and giving each person 13 crowns. \"Thank you so much for doing this. I'll give the rest of the coin when we get back, but you don't know how much this means to me.\" He offered a handshake to each person in turn, before returning to the map. \"My own knowledge on the area is only as good as any of you, so we need to be prepared for anything. I'll finance supplies like rope and picks, along with provisions, but you'll have to bring whatever supplies to protect yourself, such as weapons and armor. I do have a cart, and horse, so that's taken care of. Just make sure you bring your normal equipment and I'll provide the rest.\"\n\nHe pointed at a minor road on the map, leading out into the country near the Chasm, but no road lead directly to it. \"We'll take this old road nearby, and set up a base camp here. We should be able to poke around for a few days. I hope to leave tomorrow if you are all up for it.\"" } ]	482.5	1,794
546.25	2022-06-08	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Faelyth Duskryn", "message": "Tilting her head to the side, Faelyth's hair fell into her face slightly, only causing the shadows created by the candle between them to shape her face even more. Her expression wasn't one of irritation anymore, but one of simple intrigue. She had taken note of his purchase, a room for both of them perhaps or just her? After all he likely had a home of his own. Whatever the case, Faelyth would be staying her for the night, though whether or not if she'd be alone would remain to be seen. Picking up the tankard, Faelyth began to rotate it idly in her hand, her eyes finally able to take in the grizzled face before her more than before. He was likely doing the same, based on his stare, but she didn't mind. Hiding her face wasn't always a priority as an assassin.\n\n\"Edvard. Hm.\" Faelyth let the name roll of her tongue slow, almost as if she were testing its flavor. It was definitely a name fit for a knight, that much was certain. \"Its a handsome name, I'll say. Matches its owner.\" Another sly attempt at flirting, but it wouldn't last long. Flattery was simply in her nature, and Faelyth quickly changed the subject as Edvard had given her advances a clear answer. \"Your armor tells me you're a knight of Alynthi, not a sellsword. With such a rugged look, I might believe royal guard, perhaps Shield Guardians?\" It was innocent enough conversation, perhaps it could even be turned into a game between them." }, { "author": "Ser Edvard Eldebrand", "message": "Edvard broke his stare as soon as their eyes met, focusing now on the tankard of ale. He hated drinking. Like Rikard said, you drink to lose focus. To get rowdy. To get wild. To wrestle an Orc on the bar and fuck her later. Edvard wasn't the type. Perhaps Rikard would've enjoyed the drink, but Edvard simply stared down towards it, suspicious of its contents. He didn't need to forget the pain in his life. No respite was permanent. Temporary solace was worse than no solace. Gripping the mug with his armored glove, he quickly flung it backwards, sliding it down towards a lucky patron down the way of the bar. A cheery thanks rung through Edvard's ears soon after. He didn't care. He didn't drink. Faelyth didn't seem too, either. No man, nay, woman in their right mind picks up a tankard without taking a sip. She was doing this one purpose. She was a thief, after all. They knew their ways around the human mind more than anyone else. Each movement is planned, like a noble playing a game of chess or ur. Everything means something, yet nothing means anything. Its all mind games. He chuckled softly at her flirt, finding them funnier each time. They were starting to grow on him, in a way.\n\n\"Faelyth. Hm.\" Edvard imitated the moves of the girl, attempting to divert the conversation from his occupation. It wasn't a secret, per se, but he wasn't entirely comfortable with the thief knowing he had direct access to the king at all times. \"A name that matches someone of your ilk. It's a compliment, believe me.\" Edvard chuckled softly, shaking his head. He wasn't one to flirt. She was pretty, but not prettier than his Findaran songbird. At least, his memory of her. He couldn't really see her face anymore. He remembered those first nights in Alynthi. Left awake at the witching hour, his mind occupied with every inch of her face. It was all blurred now. Faelyth, on the other hand, was right in front of him. He could see her face. And see it, he did.\n\n\"Your armor, or lack thereof, tells me you aren't a knight nor a sellsword. It also tells me you aren't a thief. Thieves don't wear clothes that well made. You weren't stealing out of necessity. Boredom, perhaps? Color me intrigued.\"" }, { "author": "Faelyth Duskryn", "message": "Rolling her eyes at Edvard practically throwing a way a drink she had paid for for him, the dark elf shook her head as she stared off into the tavern. Her eyes followed lazily with other patrons, even though there were only a handful. Hearing the knight chuckle caused Faelyth to dart her eyes back his way, a bored stare now meeting his own. It was obvious Edvard was laughing at her flirting, but she paid it no real mind. A flirtatious person was what Faelyth had always been. Whether it got her anywhere or not didn't matter much to her, she was just that way regardless. Edvard's talk of her name and 'ilk' however caused the dark elf to sneer a sarcastic smile.\n\n\"My ilk.\" Faelyth muttered under her breath. Was he speaking of her race? Or perhaps his assumption about her profession. Edvard had her pinned as a thief, but that wasn't the case. Not entirely, at least. Faelyth's thoughts were paused however as he spoke about her as she did him. So, he no longer believed her a thief. The assassin rolled her tongue into her cheek as she shook her head, and nearly started chuckling at the knight's words. \"I wonder, are all knights of Alynthi this intelligent?\" Setting her tankard down once more, Faelyth clasped her hands and fingers together as she leaned in a bit.\n.\n\n\"I'm an assassin. Pure bred of course. I kill for money. That poor man was nearly a goner until you walked up. His cat put a hit out on him.\" As she began her sentence, Faelyth's expression was bright and full of life, frowns and smiles of telling a story blanketed her face before her entire expression dulled. \"No, I am not a thief. Did you ever think perhaps I'm someone of importance that you've been disrespecting all this time? Ooo, perhaps I'm a spymaster for the king, or even just a spy sent by a neighboring kingdom. I very seriously doubt you'll ever find out, love.\" With a wink, Faelyth took the last drink of her tankard before setting it to the side of their shared table.\n\nStretching her arms over her head, the dark elf leaned back into her chair. Perhaps the game she was playing would land her in trouble, or maybe he'd find her words hard to believe. She Was An assassin, a deadly one with over a hundred lived under her belt. A Sister of Salvation. This would likely end in one of two ways; Edvard would wholeheartedly believe her words of being an assassin, or be fooled into thinking she was simply running her mouth. Either way, it would end in amusing Faelyth, the one thing she wanted the entire time.\n\nWould it be through a fight, or perhaps knowing she fooled someone as steely and strong as he?" }, { "author": "Ser Edvard Eldebrand", "message": "\"You'd be surprised. Most of the knights of Alynthi are far too busy with lust or ego than intelligence. Disgraces, if you ask me.\"\n\nEdvard never liked sharing personal details, but was always up to share his opinions. And, from the few knights he had interacted with, he was truly ashamed. It was disgusting to him. He was no shining example of a knight, but he still tried to uphold the motivations of his late master. The others, however, were far more concerned with sex and looking intimidating than they ever were with glory or honor. Protecting the realm seemed a secondary motivation, one trumped by their own personal desires. A knight was meant to be a faceless warrior of justice and righteousness, right? What was Edvard to do when the people looked up to the egotistical barbarians on the guard instead of the proper knights? He was reminded once more of Findara. A nation rife with problems, but one where the knights were noble. He gave up on shame at this point, returning Faelyth's stare. She wasn't much of an eye-sore, anyways. He chuckled slightly as she spoke, choosing to gloss over her job description.\n\n\"Ah yes, because spymasters are known to proposition random knights with sex. Trust me, I'm not one they'd seek to test. Ask any other knight on the guard and they'd be in your bed before you could even blink. No-one of importance would waste their time on someone like me. I'm not the fool you take me for.\" \n\nEdvard shrugged softly, his mind going over Faelyth's self-proclaimed line of work. It brought him anger at first, but he settled down rather quickly. There was little point in worrying about how someone ended up dead. Edvard killed people for money as well. He just had different motivations. He killed for money and justice, while Faelyth killed only for money. And pleasure, he assumed. She seemed to the type to enjoy the slaughter. Didn't matter much at the end of the day. Doesn't matter why you kill someone. They end up in the same place anyways." }, { "author": "Faelyth Duskryn", "message": "In truth, Faelyth was satisfied that she had fooled the knight with her direct confession, but she of course couldn't read his mind. A snide smile appeared across her face before she leaned in, her elbow on the table as her chin rested in a flat palm. \"Oh come now, I don't believe you're a fool. I do believe however that you are selling yourself short. Any woman or man for that matter drools over the shining knights of Alynthi. I've yet to have one myself of course, but you can't blame a girl for trying. I seem to have found the only Eunuch.\" Her smile faded once more, and with her drink now gone the dark elf had become bored yet again.\n\n\"So, if I'm not a spymaster or someone of importance, not a thief, does that leave assassin?\" Tapping a finger to her lip, her expression changed to one of ponder. \"Hmm... But wouldn't that mean you're obligated, as a knight of course, to arrest me? Hang me for my crimes?\" Faelyth's colorful eyes flashed back to Edvard, her words filled with a playful venom. \"Oh, but words can only go so far, yes? You'd have to have proof of course.\" Tilting her head to the side, strands of her silvery, gray hair fell lazily over her eyes. Any knight would be inclined to arrest someone of her 'ilk', but not without proper cause.\n\nThe words of a drunken woman were of course not ones you could stand by. What with being a royal guard of Alynthi and all. \"Yes, I've killed many.\" Raising her hand, Faelyth garnered the attention of the barkeep before he hurried over and offered another full and frothing tankard. Downing nearly half the liquid, Faelyth threw her eyes up to the ceiling. \"Oh, I hope the gods can forgive me.\"" }, { "author": "Ser Edvard Eldebrand", "message": "\"I'm no eunuch. I just think with my head upstairs, not the one downstairs. Logic is a knight's best asset.\" \n\nEdvard sighed softly, shaking his head as she continued to press her profession to him. It was almost as if she was begging for arrest. Humiliation, he assumed. She intended to press his ideals of justice and honor against him. Make him look a fool in his own kingdom. It wasn't the smartest of moves. Little did she know he wasn't that great of a knight. Frankly, he didn't care enough to even ponder arresting her. All he wanted was a good night's sleep. He'd probably have to lock his door. Maybe barricade it. Keep her sly fingers from intruding at the witching hour. Psh. He didn't sleep anyways. Hadn't in years. The dark bags under his eyes were proof enough. No need to even lock the door. He knew he'd just end up sitting on his bed all night, staring straight at the wall. Still, Faelyth continued telling him she was an assassin. Her act was beginning to annoy the knight. He almost felt the urge to arrest her and bring her upstairs. Toss her in the room he had bought for her and barricade the door. Lock her up and throw away the key. It was all so tiring. So, so tiring.\n\n\"My only obligation is to protect the realm. I don't think hanging a drunk girl for her supposed crimes is helping anyone. Waste of rope, anyway. I wouldn't bet on the gods forgiving you. Damned creatures remember everything, you know. They'd sooner fall on their divine swords than forgive anyone.\" \n\nEdvard muttered, turning to the barkeep. He slid him a silver, and in a few seconds, was handed a mug. Water, this time. Dehydration came fast when you wear fifty pounds of plate armor at all times. He softly raised the tankard to his lips, taking a few small sips. It wasn't cold, but it'd do. Water was all the same, cold or not. He felt the urge to stand up and leave the conversation entirely, but he knew all that awaited him was waiting for the dawn. Might as well do something for now." }, { "author": "Faelyth Duskryn", "message": "\"But did you not just say any knight would bed me in a heart beat? Sounds like logic is Your Best friend, not theirs.\" Giggling to herself, Faelyth ran a finger around the rim of her tankard idly, the conversation between them only growing more interesting with each word. Scanning over Edvard's face, the dark elf's eyes seemed to almost glow with playfulness. He looked as tired as she would expect from a man so unbelievably dull. Dull yes, but still somehow an interesting individual. Faelyth wished to dissect him. See what made him tick. Something must have caused him to turn so bitter. Perhaps a lost child? Maybe he killed someone who was innocent?\n\n\"Oh I'm not drunk yet. You take me for a lightweight? Off of this piss?\" Taking another swig, Faelyth tilted her head towards Edvard curiously. Perhaps she could further this and see him be humiliated. \"Supposed crimes they are not. In fact, I'll tell you the tale of how I ran my blade across an infants throat.\" Where playfulness once resided in her eyes, now it was sinister intent. Leaning back into her seat, Faelyth took in a deep sigh before beginning her tale. \"I took the contract up from the father of the child himself. His wife, a cheating whore and nothing more, had managed to get pregnant, the entire time the father believing the child was his.\"\n\nBringing a hand to the neck of her cloak, she reached in only to bring out a long blue form; a sapphire viper. Its scales the same color as the aforementioned jewel accompanied by pure white. It gently coiled itself around Faelyth's hand before peering over at the knight, a blue tongue flicking out curiously for his scent. The dark elf tilted her head lovingly at her companion before continuing, \"The mother carried the child until it was born, only to realize that when mixing races, the child will take after both parents, not only the mother.\" Looking back toward Edvard, a smile appeared on her face. \"I suppose that's what the mother gets for fucking a tiefling.\n\nNot the smartest thing for a half-elf to do, hm?\"\n.\n\n\"At first, the father believed the infant was born from a curse, something the mother did her best to ensure he stayed believing. Nevertheless, the father wished to be rid of the child thinking it would curse their family for eternity, causing the mother to tell him the truth once and for all. Let's just say, He was less than pleased.\" Faelyth let out a laugh before shaking her head, the tale she was retelling more than true. It was only up to Edvard to believe it. \"The father then placed a hit on the child's head, only a few months old. He offered a pretty penny too, something that bought me plenty of nice jewels. Nicer than that man outside was offering.\"\n\nFlicking her eyes to her surroundings, spinning such a tale forced Faelyth to be aware of them. A smile remained on her face, it was obvious the point of sleeping with the knight was long gone. Now she only wished to get under his skin. See what made him tick, and what would break him in the end. \"The father was very helpful. Made sure the mother remained preoccupied while I did my work. Snuck in at night and ran a blade across its screaming throat. It. Ha, funny I don't even remember its gender..\" Frowning in thought, Faelyth looked away from the knight before finishing her second drink.\n\nAll bets were off." }, { "author": "Ser Edvard Eldebrand", "message": "Edvard sat in silence, the slight smile on his face washing away in a mixture of dread, disgust, and pain. Evil. And to think he had pegged her for a simple thief. He knew now. She was no thief. She was a monster. He had thought an assassin and a knight were similar. But they weren't. No knight would ever slice an innocent child's throat. No true knight, that is. His eyes seemed to transform into sunken holes of darkness, shadows cast over his irises as he emanated a sense of complete and utter dread mixed with a hint of rage. His hand seemed to float down to the handle of his sword. He fiddled with the blue cloth wrapped around the cross-guard, reading to cut the woman down in an instant. He wouldn't be reprimanded for it. Only the gods know how many people have been killed by the knights of Alynthi for far less. Yet, he stopped himself. He gazed down towards the bar for a moment, before raising his hand away from his sword and into the air, flagging down the bartender. He slipped him another stag, and in return, was handed a tankard of ale. He stared into the brown liquid for just a moment, before he forced a smile onto his face, choking a hearty laugh as he took a sip.\n\n\"Can't blame you for that. Dirty demon half-breed if you ask me. Did Alynthi a service. Glad I won't have to put that hellspawn in jail myself. Stopped a a crime before it happened. You're more honorable than most knights I know.\" He chuckled heartily, his mind screaming as he drowned out the rage in a wash of alcohol.\n\nQuietly, he flagged down the bartender once more, whispering into his ear to request a paper and quill. They arrived shortly. He kept his faux smile, turning to Faelyth with a false expression of joy cast upon his face. \"You mind smiling? Gonna jot down your portrait. I'm no artist, but it'll suffice. I'll present it to the guard. Make sure you're never stopped or hassled again. Least I can do for a pretty lass such as yourself.\"\n\nHe sighed softly, no venom imprinted in his speech. He had to do something. Her name and her description should be enough. He knew he couldn't do anything now. She wanted him to react. She wanted him to try and cut her down. He supposed she removed the viper to kill him upon making the first move he could. All he could think of was the hatred brewing in his mind. He imagined her feet dangling from the rope, her neck cracked in five places from the gallows. It was what she deserved. To take an innocent life at the behest of a bigoted father. It was unjust. It was immoral.\n\nIt was evil.\n\nHe quickly looked back and forth from Faelyth to the paper, trying his best to draw her face and notable features. It wasn't anything more than a rough sketch, but he was sure there was someone he could go to. Some artist he could work with. Someone or something could be down. He wasn't just going to sit there and do nothing, but he wasn't going to kill himself immediately. There was justice to be served. Nothing would be done if he stood to face her now, and he knew it. For the moment, he just had to say the right things and try to play into her hand. Do whatever she wanted. What little dignity he had left he was willing to spare. Vengeance would be brought to that poor child. If the gods were to ever do something right, they'd do it know. He mentally prayed to Otis, begging him to spare him from any misfortune in the coming days. He hadn't asked him for anything in a decade. He'd followed his will perfectly. He could only pray. Pray and wait." } ]	503.5	4,370
596.2	2022-07-04	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Ser Edvard Eldebrand", "message": "In stark contrast to their last visit, Edvard entered the tavern without his signature plate, accompanied by Faelyth. He stood in the doorway for a moment, chuckling at the apparent awkwardness of the situation with the bartender before he made his way inside. It was strange to come back. He remembered it all. Not even a week ago, he was blinded and dazed by Faelyth, forcing him to declare that he would burn her at the stake. He promised to find this non-existant figment of a woman and let her burn Faelyth to death. All so she could avenge her non-existent son fictionally slain by Faelyth. And yet, here he stood, leading the Elf to the bar. He was glad she would at least foot the bill this time, though he didn't quite plan on paying for a drink. He just wanted the room, that was all. He enjoyed the privacy of the pond, but understood that sleeping on the grass wasn't exactly meant for everyone. He would've done it if she had asked, but he understood that she seemed to prefer the comfort of a bed. It wasn't too hard to get to, anyway. It was in arm's length from the pond, really. And arm's length would have to do.\n\n\"Are you sure you don't want me to pay?\" He asked as he made his way off towards the bar, waiting for Fayleth to buy the room. He kept his coin pouch ready in his hand. He had the money to spare and wasn't averse to using it. He thought it the more chivalrous thing to do, anyway. He wasn't quite sure what awaited him in the coming few minutes anyway, but he had a feeling it would be nice to accommodate it. \"I did kind of threaten to burn you at the stake last time. I feel like it's the least I can do. Really.\" He said, taking a quick seat on one of the barstools. His gaze refused to leave hers, consistently studying her eyes. They seemed more and more beautiful the more he looked into them.\n\nHe shot a quick glance back towards the stairs, though. He took note of those entering and leaving the few rooms boasted by the inn. Prostitutes, mostly. It was a busy night he guessed. He wasn't entirely looking forward to spending a night at this inn, but as long as he was with Faelyth, it seemed worth it. Besides, he couldn't really sneak her into the guard barracks without incurring the full wrath of the Winged Stag. What would Winrae think if she saw him trying to cuddle an assassin? He was trying to shake the name Edvard the Coward, not reinforce it." }, { "author": "Faelyth Duskryn", "message": "Entering the tavern, Faelyth gently dropped the knight's hand and made for the inkeep. The warmth of the fire kissed the dark elf's deep grey-blue skin, causing shivers to run up and down Fae's spine. It was a welcome feeling, the chill night air having caused her skin to turn cold to the touch. She didn't mind the cold, just simply preferred the warmth of a building with a fire. Before she was able to pay for the room, Edvard's soft voice interrupted her causing her to slide those playful hues his way. \"No, I will pay. You had every right to want to- well, kill me. After the tale I spun, who wouldn't.\" Embarrassed a bit with herself, Faelyth remembered the story she had told Edvard, of killing an innocent babe in its crib. Shaking her head at herself, the dark elf confirmed her answer. \"If anyone owes anyone anything its me, so hush. One room, please. Just for the night.\"\n\nThe inkeep happily took Faelyth's coin and handed her a key. She had also managed to pay for two glasses of liquid, both turning out to be water. She had remembered the lack of alcohol Edvard consumed when they were first here. Perhaps he simply never drank, maybe it was a promise to himself or it could have just been he didn't wish to be inebriated near an assassin. Whatever the case, she's honor his choices and handed him the tankard of water in good faith. Faelyth's blue eye began to glow ever so slightly, and soon both she and Edvard's drinks would be as cold as ice and refreshing as snowflakes danced their way into each of their tankards. Curling her fingers into his, she led him once more, only this time to a bedroom in the tavern.\n\n_ _\n\"Now, I know its a lot to ask-\" Looking back as she tilted her head to look up at the large man that followed after her, \"-but you'll have to trust me, okay?\" A faint smile settled on Faelyth's face before she looked forward once more. Soon, the two approached their room and the dark elf quietly unlocked the door. Pulling her hand from Edvard's once more, she stepped inside of the room before looking back to Edvard, almost as if she wanted to check if he was going to follow or not." }, { "author": "Ser Edvard Eldebrand", "message": "Edvard nodded, sighing heavily as he stared towards Faelyth. He tried his best to ignore the last time they had met, but the image still burned fresh in his mind. The story of baby murder, the blinding light she slammed into his pupils, and the kiss she planted on his cheek. They all remained fresh in his mind like they had happened yesterday. Honestly, they might as well have. It was clear that the bartender wasn't the biggest fan of Faelyth, offering a large scowl as he accepted the gold. Money was money, after all. Bartenders had to eat, didn't they? Especially in a town like Lerwick. With the slaves gone, work wasn't exactly scarce. It felt like people were snatching up mining jobs left and right. He was sure the bartender was making one hell of a profit, but everyone else was living off of copper stags. Not to say that he supported slavery. It was an abhorrent practice and he'd never condone it. But he still held sympathy for those hurt by the transition. It was never easy. It may be necessary, but it will never be easy. That's the thing about change, isn't it? It's hard at first, but better in the long run.\n\nHe grinned widely as she passed him a glass of water, chuckling as he took a small sip. For water, it was pretty good. Fresh from a nearby stream, he assumed. He could only hope that they'd boiled it prematurely to get the sickness out. He had always heard tales of ships where it was safer to drink beer than it was water. He'd never felt luckier to be standing on solid ground. Turning to Faelyth, he tipped his glass in admiration to her, taking another sip before speaking. \"I'm glad you remembered.\" He said, smiling with his heart and soul bared out like the teeth of a dog. \"It means a lot to me that you took care to notice the smaller details of our encounter.\"\n\nQuickly, Edvard marched up the stairs, chuckling as they made their way to the door. He wasn't sure what the pause was for. His hand slipped from hers as she entered, and he stood in silent admiration, his eyes fixated entirely on her. The room was nice. Certainly nicer than what he had expected. Better than sleeping by the side of the pond, he guessed. He felt like a man standing on the edge of a cliff. He could just take a step back and forget this ever happened. Or, he could walk forward, and take the plunge. Dive headfirst into the risks that lay ahead without knowing what could possibly go wrong or right.\n\nHe smiled that heartfelt smile and stepped into the room, gripping Faelyth's hand.\n\n\"I trust you.\"" }, { "author": "Faelyth Duskryn", "message": "Faelyth's smile never seemed to leave, and if not for her darker skin Edvard would surely see how flustered the dark elf's cheeks had become. Thankful for her race for once in her life, Fae gently tugged on the knight's hand, wasting no time to pull him into the bed they'd soon share. It was big enough for the two of them of course, the barkeep was kind enough to ensure they'd have a single bed after assuming the two were a couple. The lights in the room were dim, but bright enough to allow each of them to see their footsteps. Not that it mattered, Faelyth could see in the dark. Depending on the elven races that made up Edvard, he likely could too. Nevertheless, she pulled his larger body into the safety of the bed and laid him down, the feeling all too familiar.\n\nCountless nights had Faelyth shared a place of slumber with strangers, wishing to feel something from each experience. It left her more drained each time, but still she wished for more, hoping the next time would be different. Her body was just as much a contract as the ones she completed for the Sisterhood, but instead of coin in return she hoped to gain feeling. Love, compassion, anything. Yet time and time again, it proved to be fruitless. At some point, it simply became a habit. One that she indulged in to forget her woes and sorrows, and to simply live in a night of nothingness. How this night would go, Faelyth was uncertain. But the 'how' she spoke of before was well on her mind.\n\n_ _\nAs she laid Edvard down in the dim bedroom light, a candle flickered on the bedside table. It began to cascade shadows over the dark elf's form, and while the knight lie in wait for Faelyth to join him she circled the bed, just as she had circled him twice before. Now on the other side of the bed, the assassin finally joined the larger knight, ensuring the blanket was well enough out of the way but ready to cover them should they get cold. Without so much as a word, Faelyth allowed her hands to run over the knight's shoulders as she took her place next to him. Before he could make any sort of move, Faelyth did something she never expected herself to do in 90 years.\n\nRunning her hands up the back of the knight's head, she pulled Edvard into her neck and chest. Laying on her side, she cradled the man's head and gently ran her fingers through his messy hair. No advancements were made this night. No removal of clothing, no ulterior motives. Perhaps subverting expectations was a specialty of Faelyth's. Closing her eyes, Faelyth rested her chin against the top of Edvard's head and let out a more than content sigh. She still did not speak, for she knew no words would amount to the feeling she felt in her heart.\n\nSafety." }, { "author": "Ser Edvard Eldebrand", "message": "Edvard's grin remained plastered on his face. The lighter tone of his skin made it quite apparent he was blushing, but he made no attempts to hide it. The main draw of this relationship to the knight was the brutal honesty both put on display, and shame was not on the emotional itinerary for Edvard. He marched into the room, quietly shutting the door behind the two as Faelyth moved to grab his hand. He held onto her tightly, voluntarily crawling into the bed. It was confusing for him to be wearing clothes, but he wasn't sure he cared. To be sharing this moment in the dark was enough. The bed seemed far more comfortable than he had ever expected, thought knew part of that comfort grew solely from being in close proximity to Faelyth. He made himself at home immediately, his head crashing down on the pillow harder than the Hewman's axe crashing into the thick base of an old oak tree.\n\nEdvard hadn't laid with another in decades. Romantically or otherwise. Of course, his wife was to blame. He still felt a married man. Or at least, he did. There was just something that held him back for infinity. He would proclaim that none could hold a candle to his lost love, but he knew it wasn't true. He had fallen for more women than he could count on two hands after the death of his wife. It was that destructive fear that kept him in isolation, laying in his bed sleeplessly every night for years and years. He was convinced he had spent the most active time in the barracks than anyone else in the history of Alynthi, simply waiting and hoping that his love would come back to him. Only now did he realize that she already had. His 'love' wasn't a woman anymore. It was a feeling. And that feeling transferred now to the elf he shared a room with, who circled the bed like a lion waiting to pounce.\n\nAs she crawled in, he sighed softly, nervous about what was to come. Her hands made their way to his shoulders slowly caressing him like an infant. He appreciated Faelyth's attempts at calming him, but they fell flat almost entirely. It wasn't her fault. It was entirely his. He was still terrified of spending the night with another. Of sharing that sole warmth in the arms of someone else. He yearned for it terribly, but he still felt terrified. His breath seemed to spill from his lungs faster and harder and she grew closer, clearly showing his nervousness. He couldn't handle losing another. It felt like all he'd been doing is wasting the time spent with others around him. Losing Faelyth because of his inexperience was so impossibly terrifying he didn't dare imagine it.\n\nAnd then, in an instant, he felt pure bliss. He found his face cradled by Faelyth, brought into her warm embrace with the light and love of a thousand suns. His eyes seemed to automatically shut as the blood rushed to his cheeks, bringing intense warmth to her neck. He wasn't sure what to do at first, but as her fingers slowly made their way through his hair, he smiled widely. His arms slowly reached out across the bed, making their way to Faelyth's back. Softly, he pulled her into a tight embrace, not daring to say a word. There was nothing to say that could describe the feeling in his heart. That feeling he had longed for all along.\n\nHome." } ]	579	2,981
828.857143	2022-07-05	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Ser Edvard Eldebrand", "message": "The sun couldn't have been more hated as it crept up on the bodies of the two, both fast asleep. For the first time in a decade, Edvard was fast asleep, nestled in the firm embrace of Faelyth. To retread on past events, Edvard felt at home, cuddling softly into the warm grasp of the woman in front of him. Both of them had their arms wrapped firmly around each other, seemingly holding on for dear life. As if both never wanted this moment to end. And they likely didn't. Edvard certainly didn't. He hadn't felt this lovely in decades. He hadn't felt this much love in his heart since he was a boy. He dreamed an infinite dream as the two slept, completely knocking out an entire day's worth of time. He imagined his whole life with Faelyth. It was perfection entirely. Not a single dreary moment. Smiles of gold and honey all around. He could feel the luck in the air as if it were a pestilence raging through the room.\n\nThe sun slowly made it's way through the papered windows of the inn, casting it's firm and scorching rays onto Edvard almost entirely. His body seemed to shield Faelyth from the violent solar tempest entirely. A bonus of shacking up with a huge man, right? The rays of the sun seemed to pry their way into Edvard's eye-lids, slowly but surely coaxing him to wake up. Just as he was getting ready to watch Faelyth walk down the aisle in his dream, he was awoken, snapping back to reality in an instant. He was disappointed for a moment, but only for a moment. Reality wasn't half bad. He stared towards Faelyth, an infinite smile growing on his face. Grikta had truly blessed him. How lucky was he? To be laying next to her. To wake up next to her. It was... Wonderful. Truly.\n\nSlowly, he wrenched his hand away from her body, slowly bring it up to her face. In a similar manner to her signature move, he pressed his hand against her cheek, using his thumb to move any loose strands of hair from her face. He wanted to see her completely. His eyes caught her closed eyelids, prompting him to let out a loose, yet audible chuckle. Slowly, his thoughts were caught by his vocal chords, and a few soft words left his mouth. \"Wake up, Fae.\" He said, smiling wide. His wife used to call him Ed. He always liked the nickname. He thought she might like it too. He continued to stare towards her, his mind fixated on her visage. Eventually, he gave a soft sigh before leaning forward, planting a soft kiss on her forehead. He thought it might jolt her awake better than his words ever could." }, { "author": "Faelyth Duskryn", "message": "Ah, the life of an assassin; for one never truly falls asleep.\n\nAs she drifted off the night before, Faelyth had slept better than she had in years. More than a handful, mind you. No, this was not sleep it was slumber, but all those years of training and being taught in the ways of the Sisterhood weren't for nothing. The moment Edvard began to stir, Faelyth awoke. She remained still however, curious of what the knight would do. Would he leave like every other did when they were finished with her? She supposed the others didn't only lay with her, so at least Edvard had that going for him. Still, Faelyth was used to her partners leaving once they had gotten what they wanted out of her. Fearing the worst, she was suprised when Edvard remained beside her, not leaving the bed they shared after being well awake.\n\nThrough the night, Faelyth dreamed for the first time since she was seven years old. All others since were nothing but nightmares. It was why she gave her body to the night, consumed alcohol on a daily basis and lived in seclusion. She was terrified of the nightmares that haunted her soul. While Edvard dreamt of Faelyth, she instead dreamt of her mother and father, back in their family home in Lazaroth. She was seven once more, celebrating her eighth birthday with her parents. It had to be a dream of course, but even in her sleep Faelyth prayed for Elutharios to whisk her away to this place, and let her live in happiness with them for the rest of eternity. It would ever be however, as the morning came whether she wanted it to or not.\n\n_ _\nAnother dream visited the dark elf's mind, and this time it was of Edvard. She was introducing him to her father and mother, the two approving of him as a knight and man of honor. Faelyth knew this to be true. Her father would have wanted nothing less for his only daughter, and perhaps her mother would have appreciated the way he made Fae smile. Now, smiling was in short supply in the dark elf's life, at least that of a genuine nature. Faelyth lay in silence, in bliss of the dreams that had kissed her mind. Thanking Elutharios silently, the hand that brushed against her face was yet another surprise. Edvard had no intention of leaving her, not like the others.\n\nThe knight's soft words reached the resting dark elf's ears, and as hard as she tried she simply couldn't help but smile. The kiss however forced her different colored eyes open to see the man's chin in front of them. The kiss was soft, and one she had never experienced before. Nevertheless, she lay welcoming it happily. Looking up at Edvard as he pulled away, Faelyth let out a yawn. \"I'm awake, I'm awake.\" Sitting up, Faelyth stretched her arms forward with a groan of content. Eyeing the knight curiously, dreaded realizations washed over her as quickly as she had fallen asleep the night before.\n\nA murderer had fallen for a man of the law." }, { "author": "Ser Edvard Eldebrand", "message": "Edvard stared longingly into Faelyth's eyes, inevitable scoff-like giggles escaping his he nostrils as she made her way up. He felt pure happiness. He'd never shared a moment like this before. Not with anyone. Not even his wife. He had loved her more than anything at the time, but he knew she had only married him for the suit of armor. Sure, she loved him, but she didn't want him. She wanted the glory the wife of a knight held. She wanted to wield that same power and honor Edvard carried with him everywhere he went without ever bearing the consequences. He loved his wife, and he knew she loved him, but he didn't quite know if it was because of the man he was behind the plate or the plate itself. Faelyth, on the other hand. Faelyth knew who he was. They were directly opposed after all. Yet... Here she sat. Loving him all the same. He grinned from ear to ear as he sat up, leaning against the head-board with a sigh.\n\nHe felt that same realization she did, but he took his far more bluntly. He thought it strange to fall for a murderer. Especially as a knight. But he didn't care. If all the 'honorable' soldiers of this world were all egomaniacal fools with god complexes and hatred for those below them, why wouldn't he find himself in the company of a murderer? Especially one who treated him like a human. He still rolled the name around on his tongue. Edvard the Kind. Edvard the Humble. It was in stark contrast to Edvard the Coward, wasn't it? It brought him something he desperately needed. Confidence. He had the split-second confidence to stand up to Winrae. Hell, he even had the confidence to stand up to a god. But the confidence faded away soon afterwards, leaving Edvard another crying wreck. Faelyth made him realize who he was, and that he was capable of being respected. He just had to earn it.\n\nAnd earn it he would.\n\nBut first, he remained in bed, his smile persistent. He turned back to Faelyth, studying her eyes for a moment. Those two beautiful colored pearls embedded deep within her visage. Yet, behind them, he thought he could see a twinge of regret. Perhaps it was shock. He didn't quite know. But he saw it all the same. He felt it. That same realization he had. Only, hers seemed to hit harder. He recoiled an inch or two, his face growing with worry. He wasn't quite sure what to do. He felt scared once again. He longed for that security she offered. That homely feeling she provided. It was all about her. With an expression of distraught emotion on his face, Edvard reached outwards, bring his hand to her face again. Quickly, yet carefully, he tilted her gaze to his, before leaning in, passionately kissing her. He didn't quite know if it was the right thing to do, but his heart fluttered wildly as he did so. In that moment, once more, he felt infinite. Indestructible. Invincible. And hopelessly in love with a hired assassin. It was perfect for a comedy.\n\nBut this was reality, wasn't it?" }, { "author": "Faelyth Duskryn", "message": "Truth be told, the dark elf was worried of the outcome of their partnership. The Sisterhood would never allow Faelyth to be with Edvard, and his kingdom would never allow Edvard to be with Faelyth. They'd have to be together in secrecy or flee but- Faelyth did not know if she could bring herself to run from the Sisterhood. It was her life, her reason for living. That was the look of worry that covered her face, but when she turned to look at Edvard his lips had pressed against her own. Widening her eyes, Faelyth threw her hands to the knight's chest, pressing against it gently. While she didn't necessarily push him away, there was obvious immediately resistance, if only out of sheer surprise. After a moment however, she allowed it, crashing her own lips into his.\n\nPushing the knight back, Faelyth refused to let her lips leave Edvard's while she climbed atop him. Perhaps this was all a bit rushed, but the dark elf cared not. The feeling that swelled in her heart and mind each time Edvard looked at her was too much to give up. He was a drug, and Faelyth was on life support for another fix. Now in the poor man's lap, Faelyth couldn't stop herself from pulling the knight's shirt open and placing her still gloved hands upon it. Oh how she wished she had remembered to remove them the night before. With a huff, Faelyth pulled away but only for a moment to breathe. Colliding her lips into his yet again, the assassin couldn't stop herself. At least for the moment." }, { "author": "Ser Edvard Eldebrand", "message": "Edvard's mind seemed to go entirely blank as the situation progressed. It was an escalation of escalations, and one Edvard truly didn't expect. His mind twirled in passion and pleasure as he was pushed back into the bed, his continually colliding with Faelyth's. He had dreamed of this moment. Even all those nights ago. When he was far too proud to share a bed with Faelyth. Now, here he lay. Faelyth had chosen him, it seemed. Chosen him to be hers. He didn't want to breathe. He only wanted her. He continually felt his body move on it's own volition, lifting and colliding with Faelyth's multiple times in a struggle for position. He wasn't thinking. That much was obvious. He shot his hands up towards Faelyth, clawing at her in some mindless attempt at bringing himself closer to her. As their lips pressed together once more, however, a light seemed to fill the darkness of his mind. The intensity he once shared with the woman dissipated immediately, and he brought himself upright, grabbing onto Faelyth's wrists. He held firm control over the elf, continually kissing her before finally pulling back, offering calm, yet solemn smile.\n\n\"Faelyth, I-\" He didn't really know what to say. He simply sat there for a few moments, his gaze as saddened and disappointed as hers. He brought himself forward to kiss her once again, but not with the same intensity as the last ones. It was deep and calm this time. It wasn't mean to symbolize some type of sexual want or arousal, but a deeper love that brewed inside of him. Something that mattered more. Something that mattered a lot more. He slowly pulled himself back, finally letting go of her wrists. He brought his hands to the back of her head, bringing her close to him as she had done earlier. He tried to envelop her in a hug, holding her head to his chest as he rested his chin atop it, whispering sweet and calm words. \"It's okay, don't worry. It's okay.\" He repeated a few times, brushing his thumb through her beautiful hair.\n\nSlowly, Edvard moved his hands down to her cheeks, bringing her back out to face him entirely. He stared deeply into her eyes, his solemn yet loving gaze meeting hers intently. There was no sorrow, pain, or disgust in his gaze. Only love. Leaning forward, he moved to kiss her on the forehead, continuing to hold her close as a single tear fell from his eye. He cleared his throat softly before he spoke, trying his best not to stumble on his words. \"You are the most beautiful woman I've ever met, Faelyth. In all the realms. None hold a candle to you. You are the most beautiful, intelligent, courageous, and caring woman I've ever met. You've made me feel like a king tonight. But we can't do this. I'm... I'm sorry. You said it yourself. You pursued me because I turned you down. I didn't do it because I found you unattractive or annoying, I did it because I saw something in you. Something valuable. Something that I could never find if I just fucked you on some strange night. It's... You. I saw you.\"\n\nAnother tear began to roll down his cheek as he continued, smiling silently. \"I didn't kiss you because I wanted to bed you. I kissed you because I love you. You've done something to me that no-one else has ever done. You've made me fall for you. You've made me love you. Trust me when I say I never want to leave your side. But we can't just... Do this. You used sex as a defense mechanism. As a way to forget about your troubles. I'm here now, Faelyth. You don't have to hide from me. I want to help you, not hide you. I'll be with you, always. I promise.\" He choked on his words, before finally finding the right thing to do. He leaned in a final time, kissing her once again, matching that passion and feeling that was present in their first.\n\n\"You aren't just another pretty woman I want to bed. You're Faelyth. You're the woman I love. You mean more to me than this. So much more.\"" }, { "author": "Faelyth Duskryn", "message": "Run, Faelyth.\n\nThousands of voices screamed at her the moment Edvard stopped her advances. She had ruined it by throwing herself at him, but could anyone blame her for believing it was the obvious next course of action? Feeling her movement be restricted by Edvard's hands around her wrists, Faelyth's eyes were wide with what looked to be a combination of both terror and misunderstanding. Was he angry with her? No, his words said otherwise. Was it sympathy then? Tugging her arms away from him, Faelyth felt wrong. Something was off, and before he could pull her back she shot up from the bed. Running her hands through her hair, the dark elf began to breathe heavily, as though panic were setting in. What was she doing here?\n\nThe more Edvard talked, the less calm she seemed to become. Speaking of her beauty, of love. Love born of a single night. This was nothing like the fairy tales she remembered from her childhood, of a knight sweeping her off her feet into happily ever after. Yes Edvard was a knight, and her feet were thousands of leagues off the ground but yet here she was, feeling buried beneath a wave of emotions she had never felt or experienced before. Guilt, shame, humiliation were just the first few to come to mind. Who was she to blindly throw herself at Edvard? The more the poor knight spoke, the less Faelyth wished to hear. Edvard was bringing up her darkest demons, her defense crumbled like stale bread to the floor. Sure, he had solved her, but far too soon. After all, they barely knew one another.\n\n_ _\nWithout looking to Edvard, Faelyth wrapped her hands around herself, terrified to even move. To speak or breathe, even. 'Run. Run, Faelyth. Please, just run.' Her mind was screaming at her, pleading with her to flee from these strange feelings. Was love meant to be so sudden? Feeling Edvard reach for her again, she quickly pulled away. He'd likely never catch her no matter how much he tried, and before long she turned around, now a good few feet away from his reach. There she stood, eyes terrified but in a way neither of them could understand. The dark elf's heart pounded out of her chest, and it almost felt as though it would burst from her body and run away for her. Through her pants of panic, Faelyth swallowed, her mouth dry from breathing so hard. Then, after a long moment of silence she finally spoke.\n\n\"This- I cannot do this, Edvard.\" Any movement Edvard made meant another step back, but Faelyth continued anyways through a panicked voice. \"This was not meant to be. We Are not meant to be.\" Shaking her head, it was obvious the panic was making decisions for her. Raised from a young age, Faelyth put her safety first, and that meant mentally as well. She could not afford to love a knight. Not now, not ever. Not if she wished to continue her life as a Sister. Finally, Faelyth's eyes met Edvards. Her head trembled as she shook it ever so slightly, her eyes screaming thousands of apologies toward the man she had spent the night with. Deep down, she wished to climb into his chest and remain their ever more, the safety he had coursed through her veins a greater drug than any she'd ever tried in her life. But, her flight or fight response had kicked in, and she simply couldn't bring herself to stay.\n\n_ _\n\"I- I cannot love you, Edvard.\" Without another word, she turned and made for the door. Throwing her hood over her head, tears began to swell in her eyes. 'Run fast, run hard. Run home, Faelyth.' Slamming the door open to their room, Faelyth cared not for the sour look the same barkeep gave her for causing yet another disturbance. Quick on her feet, tears began to fall freely for the first time in dozens of years. These tears would slow her down to be sure, as the assassin's vision grew blurry with them. Once near the door to the tavern, she burst through it, the sun blinding her eyes even more so. She had to flee, for she feared what would happen if she didn't.\n\nHow could Faelyth be so blind? She should have realized the night before a love of their kind would never last, so why bother in the first place? He was a knight, she? A Murderer. For even allowing Faelyth to walk freely, knowing what she was would be enough to charge poor Edvard with treason. He was betraying his oath, and by extension, Faelyth would betray him by staying at his side and allowing their love to persist. Was that what she felt? Right now in the current moment, all Faelyth could feel was a terrible pain in her chest, one that felt terrifying similar to a feeling she had 90 years ago. No, she would not re-live it. Faelyth would never grow close enough to anyone to feel such pain again.\n\nEver." }, { "author": "Ser Edvard Eldebrand", "message": "\"You.\"\n\nEdvard sat stoically on the bed, alone. In front of him stood the flame. The flame of the lamp. The once calm and composed knight jumped to his feet, ripping his sword from it's sheath as he stared down the flame, his eyes bursting red with rage. He wasted no time. The flame darted around the room, and where ever it went, Edvard's blade followed. His voice boomed through and outside of the inn, all could hear his cries. All of Lerwick. All of Alynthi. All of the realm. All of the gods. \n\n\"DELIVER UNTO ME YOUR JUSTICE, O CURSED FLAME! DELIVER UNTO ME AS YOU HAVE DONE SO IN THE PAST! DELIVER UNTO ME AS YOU HAVE CURSED ME IN THE YEARS PRIOR! YOU DRIVE ME FROM MY HOME, YOU DRIVE MY LOVED ONES TO THEIR DEATHS, YOU DRIVE MY ONLY MASTER TO AN EARLY GRAVE AND YOU DRIVE HIS GREATEST COMRADE TO HIS DEATH BED! YOU DRIVE THOSE I AM MEANT TO RELY ON TO EGOTISTICAL BULLSHIT! AND YOU DRIVE ME TO LOVE! YOU DRIVE ME TO LOVE AGAIN! YOU MADE ME LOVE AGAIN! YOU DID THIS TO ME! YOU FUCKING DID THIS TO ME! YOU FUCKING BASTARD! I'LL TEAR DOWN THE HEAVENS! I'LL KILL YOU! I SWEAR ON IT! I SWEAR ON ALL I HAVE EVER HELD DEAR! I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU! YOU DROVE HER FROM MY ARMS! I FELT SAFE! I FELT ALIVE! I FELT AT HOME! AND YOU DESTROYED IT! YOU FUCKING BASTARD! YOU SIT ON YOUR THRONE OF FIRE AND GOLD AND YOU CAST YOUR WICKED JUDGEMENT UPON ME! YOU TORMENT ME! ONLY ME! I AM THE ONLY ONE TO INCUR YOUR WRATH!\"\n\nEdvard continued to slash at the flame, his rage blinding him to the fact that room around him was falling apart. Pieces of wood seemed to collapse around him, the roof nearly caved in itself as the wooden beams keeping it in placed were hacked away and slashed at. The bed itself crumpled to the floor like a wounded dog, and all of the candles in the room were immediately snuffed out by the frightening, yet quick terror of his blade. He swung the longsword like an axe, aiming to slash at the fire. The lamp continued to move, taunting his every move. He only kept screaming. He only kept crying. His lungs felt as if they were to tear to pieces, but he kept going. He never stopped. \"I PRAYED FOR YEARS! I BELIEVED IN YOU! YOU SAVED ME FROM DEATH! YOU STILL SAVE ME FROM DEATH! YET YOU MAKE LIFE TORMENT! I SOUGHT COMFORT IN THE ARMS OF ANOTHER GOD AND YOU BESEECHED ME! YOU CLAIMED FALSE BLASPHEMEY! YOU CAST ME FROM MY HOME! MY WIFE! I FINALLY MOVE ON, I FINALLY ACCEPT MYSELF, AND YOU COME AGAIN! AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN! YOU NEVER FUCKING LEAVE! YOU BASTARD! KILL ME! JUST FUCKING KILL ME! STRIKE ME DOWN AND END IT ALL! END THIS SUFFERING! THIS HORRIFIC GAME SHALL PLAY NO LONGER! I WILL NOT BOW TO YOUR FLAME! BURN ME! BURN ME AT THE PYRE! JUST PLEASE! END IT ALL! PLEASE! I'M BEGGING!\n\nEdvard fell to his knees, his sword slamming into the floorboards one final time. The fire was never truly there. Now, he simply stood by himself, surrounded by the aftermath of his rage. The room around him was completely obliterated. Every piece of craftmanship left destitute and broken. Hundreds of coins in damages. He knew he could pay it, but it wasn't about that anymore. His heart sank deep into his chest, struck with the black poison of grief. He threw his sword away, not even daring to watch as it clattered against a piece of rubble. He screamed as he cried. He wouldn't stop crying. For years, it felt. Millennia spent shedding tears. Tears of Ser Hastings. Tears of The Hewman. Tears of Winrae. Tears of Rikard. And tears of Faelyth. His arms seemed to wrap around himself, as if the knight tried consoling himself by imagining her embrace. He could still hear her voice, as sweet as honey. He was Edvard the Kind. Edvard the Humble. Wasn't he? Through blurred tears, he gazed back at the room around him. No. He wasn't. He cried as he brought his hands together, and he cried as he prayed.\n\n\"Please save me. Please. I'm no man anymore. I'm just a child. I'm scared. I'm alone. I need help. I don't know what to do. She's gone. Just like everyone else. They always leave. Grikta, please. I aim to serve you. I want nothing else. I don't want redemption. I don't want my assured safety. I don't want luck. I just... I want her. I want that feeling. I want home. I want to go home, Grikta. I want to go home.\"\n\nIt took Edvard almost thirty minutes, but the tears eventually stopped. He felt so hollow as he stood back up, reaching for his coin purse. He didn't know the amount it would take to repair the damages, but he didn't care.\n\nQuietly, he tossed the coins towards the door, standing as a monolith of silent rage. He prepared to leave, working up the courage to take the next step out of the door. But something told him to stop. A sweet, golden voice echoed within the canals of his mind, casting a shade of honey on the reaper who patrolled the river styx. His anger sufficed, replaced only with hope for a brief second. Quickly, he turned over his shoulder, spotting one final item. Light from the caved in roof illuminated it as it rested carefully atop a pile of rubble. The cloth. The cloth he had carried with him all these weeks. The cloth he had last night. The cloth that brought Faelyth to him.\n\nQuickly, he collapsed over the rag, gripping it tightly. He brought it to his chest, tears quickly streaming from his eyes as he spoke at a near whisper, his heart yearning for that safety. That home. It had all happened so fast, but it was real. It was so fucking real.\n\n\"Love me or kill me. I can't stand to walk this realm without you. Not anymore.\" \n\nEdvard left Lerwick that morning, riding Gerhard back to the capital. Back to the castle. No-one would know where he had gone. He didn't care. He wouldn't tell them. He was discouraged. Angry. Sad. But somewhere, deep in his mind, underneath those layers of rage and sorrow, a small golden voice echoed in his thoughts. Somehow, someway...\n\nHe was gonna get lucky.*" } ]	690	5,802
261.333333	2023-01-26	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "maddyishere", "message": "Vhun's grip was similarly strong, the woman giving his hand a firm shake. Really, the only notably feature of her grip was that she had only three fingers on each hand. Her limbs were quite thin, though she was not gaunt by any means, she was very clearly built for flight. As evidenced by the slight raggedness of the edges of her wings, she put this build to good use. Her head gained a light tilt as she listened to him speak. This was no automatic gesture, but rather a conscious effort to make certain he knew she was listening. Her face was not the most expressive thing, and she was well aware of this.\n\nHer hands began to shuffle her cards once more, head turning very slightly down as she did. Her cards were out of their order, and she already did know that she didn't have any card that would adequately answer his question. After just about thirty seconds, however, she did settle on a pair.\n\nNice to meet you.\n\nFollowed quickly by.\n\nWait.\n\nShe hoped that the second statement didn't come off as rude, given that it had exactly no emotion attached to it. She would have liked to give a little hum or click with it, but she wasn't certain that he'd pick up on the meaning. It didn't matter. Her hands quickly returned the cards to their pouch, lower right hand settling into her bag to retrieve a sheaf of parchment affixed to a small piece of wood. It was a sort of portable writing desk, it seemed. A charcoal stick was produced alongside it, Vhun then setting to writing.\n\nJust exploring. I like to go out and about from time to time. How long have you lived here?" }, { "author": "Theradin Flintbreaker", "message": "He respected someone who could give a good handshake. He had never met a mothfolk before, but he didn't let that shake him. He restrained his curiosity and continued in conversation. \n\nHe didn't mind the comment to wait, he was a pretty understanding fellow. He was mildly intrigued. He wondered if the fellow in front of him was either mute or didn't know how to speak Common, although they clearly understood it well enough.\n\n\"That sounds fun. I've done a little bit of traveling for research, but I seldom leave the kingdom. Lerwick's been my home for pretty much my whole life. My folks were miners, although they're retired now, and I had my apprenticeship here. I've rarely had reason to leave save to a library in another town or to visit some friend. Where are you from? If you don't mind me asking.\"" }, { "author": "maddyishere", "message": "As Vhun stared him down, the mothfolk made a quiet clicking sound of understanding. It wasn't a sound that meant anything in particular, but rather one that she hoped Theradin would assign meaning to. Most tended to do that without any prompting, given that verbal communication was shared across species. Though the exact meanings behind inflections did vary from culture to culture and species to species.\n\nHer lower hands retrieved the cards, then began to shuffle them once more. Her upper currently held her little stack of parchment.\n\nYes.\n\nThis was her agreement to his first statement, lower hands continuing to shuffle the cards. She bobbed her head as he continued to talk about himself. That really was interesting, but she didn't really know what she was meant to say in response. Of her thirty-four cards, she didn't have a phrase that helped here. Perhaps it was time to update them. She needed a card that simply said 'Kara-Tur Kir Chult'. The sheaf of parchment would have to do for now. She continued to write.\n\nI am from Kara-Tur Kir Chult, but I now live in Findara. Are you from here?\n\nHer writing-stick tapped parchment, thinking.\n\nIs the library here interesting?" } ]	255	784
265.75	2023-01-28	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "maddyishere", "message": "Vhun's posture remained as rigid as she stared down at Theradin. It really was difficult to determine whether or not she was being rude by tilting her head down to look at him. She could see him just as easily with her chin tilted up, but that felt just as disrespectful as bending down to look at him. This was a somewhat new conundrum to the mothfolk, given that she was quite used to being just about at eye level with most she met.\n\nHe was once more answered with cards, her head gaining a further tilt as she searched through for her answers. She really did need to update her cards, she thought, or teach herself to physically speak something that sounded like Common. She really couldn't get the hang of it, given her biology, and found this to be quite the bother. Two cards were flashed in quick succession.\n\nYes.\n\nA pause.\n\nNo.\n\nShe didn't know. Such things had always deeply perplexed Vhun, and she thought that she was just as well not knowing how they stayed up. After all, it didn't matter much how they did, only that they did. She continued to nod along, hands returning to writing.\n\nIt is no trouble. I have plenty of hands to write with should one tire. I must say that there are quite a few subjects I enjoy the study of.\n\nA pause.\n\nAre the texts written in common?\n\nShe supposed she'd better ask him something about himself.\n\nWhat brought you to Findara?" }, { "author": "Theradin Flintbreaker", "message": "\"So... They really do float. Well I guess that is a mystery for another time. But truly amazing.\" He spoke with a sense of awe. He had heard and seen a lot, but learning that was actually true was something he did not expect. \"I'll have to go see for myself someday.\"\n\n\"Most of them are, but the library contains the collected knowledge of the whole kingdom. So you'll find scripts in most any language. Even a handful in dwarvish. No one writes books in dwarvish anymore, so those must have cost a fortune to bring to the library. What might be some things you enjoy studying?\"\n\n\"Well usually when I travel to Findara it's because I have a client out there, but most recently it was for a personal reason. I was looking to see if Findara had a text that the Library in the Capital didn't. Sadly their copy was extensively damaged, but I recorded what I found.\"" }, { "author": "maddyishere", "message": "Vhun gave a small tittering laugh in return, once more showing off a card to reply. \n\nYes.\n\nShe wasn't necessarily laughing at him, but rather at the tone he'd taken. It really wasn't all that much of a marvel, she thought. There was all sorts of magic in the world, why would these islands fascinate him so? Perhaps he'd just need to see them. Or maybe she'd simply grown too used to them to properly appreciate them. It didn't really matter, given that she had no intention of continuing to press him.\n\nI see.\n\nA pause.\n\nA bit of everything, I suppose. I find the natural world to be most interesting. More than that, I make dye, and I think it is always worth looking for techniques that I do not know. What of you? What interests you?" }, { "author": "Theradin Flintbreaker", "message": "He nodded his head as she spoke. He understood researching different techniques to do things that one couldn't do before. That had been a good deal of his career after his apprenticeship and how he learned the lyre in the first place. But his interests were less about a new skill and moreso a new story.\n\nHe picked up his notebook once again, and opened up to one of many pages covered in notes, showing it to Vuhn. Much of it was in dwarvish, but some was in common as well. They varied from poems and songs (some apparently incomplete) to notes about different stories and legends. The tattered remains of his people's history were scrawled across the many pages, and it was clear that this was the result of many years of study.\n\n\"I do research into my trade yes, one shouldn't be content with their current skills, but should improve them. But most of my studies are devoted into the folklore of my people. We dwarves have long been a scattered wandering people, lost in the lands of bigger, more influential, more numerous folk. It saddens a lot of my kin for most folks to only really take us seriously when there's a hole to be dug or a plow to be mended. Thankfully not through prejudice or mistreatment, most people do respect us as people, but they tend to disregard us, to pay us little attention, sometimes not even notice we are here. But our legends speak of a time when our crafts were the envy of kings, and our songs were heard in every ear. We had a kingdom of our own back then, a true homeland. It's halls where vast and beautiful. The work and pride of generations, of a people. Sadly that had been gone for ages, if that legendary time even existed. But I find solace in studying our folklore, and preserving our traditions to this day.\"" } ]	251.5	1,063
390	2023-08-13	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "lannistergold", "message": "Aurelien smiles, sitting at one of the chairs that Theradin pointed to. He was excited, his tail swishing at the excitement. He was almost, Purring It seemed. That was how excited he was, admittedly. He looked around, looking at the blonde man, and the ambiguous one. They all looked well, like a rowdy bunch. Was this like the group his father was running with? As, well, eccentric? \n\nHe looked over the map, and had a annoyed face when mentioning they were going to have the hike. Oh well. He could make do, and he would make do. If his father could do something like this, so could he. He wanted this, no matter how hard it would be, he would successfully do it. \n\n\"I am a skilled bard, I'd like to think. I am skilled in Biomancy, and of course, I am a Vesani. But unfortunately... Violence is, not my strongest skill. If someone needs swooned, or talked to. I can help you there.\" Aurelien smiles, again. He looks at the dwarf with a sort of fondness. He seemed like he'd be a good leader honestly, and Aurelien's tail swished in his seat. He couldn't believe it, he was finally getting hisd big break. \n\n\"I realize we have not introduced ourselves. We know Theradin, but I am the illustrious bard, Zephyr! But, you can call me Aurelien Egeus Faine. The son of Dulcibella Faine, the idol and harpist. Wonderful bards of Thyseer. Perhaps you have heard of my sister, Gisele? You may know her as Thyseers golden Voice? The Black swan Of Lucidien?\"" }, { "author": "Lawrence Silvermoore", "message": "For a moment, the sound of a woman's hysterical laughter came forth. Only to be immediately stopped by several coughing fit of the masked alchemist, profusely and intentionally making it loud as possible. In that instance, he almost got a heartattack because of his supposed undead aunt and mentor. \n\n```Golden Voice? Black Swan of Lucidien? Bah, the audacity to even DARE use even the whole of the world! I swear, if she can't please the gods, then that is just one hell of a lie! Come my student! Show them what a TRUE GOLDEN VOICE IS!```\n\nLawrence would continue to cough while making a hard press and smash on his chest several times, targeting at his necklace which doesn't seem to stop. Though since it could easily be mistaken for the slightest faint of the wind, it was easy to cover up. But sharp ears isn't easily be fooled under all those forced aesthetics of illness. \"Apologies, I seem to have swallowed my own saliva into my trachea by accident. Do not worry, I harbor no disease.\" The man plainly stated, profusely sweating from all that nervousness and stress piling up just because of a bard who ran his mouth for far too much.\n\nLooking at Aurelien, his emerald eyes would pierce through the veil of his mask. From the lenses, it emit a soft and gentle glow. \"A word of advice, friend. Do not blindly talk about your prestige to anyone. Especially out here. Remember to hold your tongue, for there are cutthroats and vagabonds everywhere that can make easy work of you. Perhaps kidnap you as well, money is money after all. They will not hesitate to do a great many despicable things.\"\n\nHis eyes switched towards the direction of the dwarf, hands placed meticiously around each other in wicked anticipation. \"I will be honest. I am not familiar with the biome of the Great Chasm. Are there any monstrous residents we should be aware of?\"" }, { "author": "Theradin Flintbreaker", "message": "\"Well, glad that you are all on board. As promised, here is half your pay up front.\" He pulled out several bags of gold. It was a sizable about, and Theradin had a lot riding on this expedition. \"So, I hope you've gathered supplies. I've gathered some basic supplies, basic climbing gear, food, and the like. It's only enough for a week or so. If there is anything else you think you'll need, we've got an hour or two before we head out, you'll be able to find most of what you need. He began collecting his maps and other assorted items and packing things back in his bag. He looked around as folks began to share their skills.\n\n\"Well it seems like we've got a fair amount of skill and know-how between us. I don't expect to be fighting to much, but whatever is down there certainly isn't friendly. So when we do fight I expect it to be rather tough. Certainly nothing like fighting on the battlefield\"\n\nHe turned towards Aurelian as he introduced himself. \"A famous bard huh? I'm no Bard but I do dabble in a little bit of poetry myself. More of a scholar in that department, but just a hobby.\" He certainly didn't look like a fancy bard or a bookish scholar.\n\nHe seemed amused by Lawrence's statement, speaking up with some local knowledge. \"Well my masked friend, I'm not sure where you're from, but there aren't many thieves and cutthroats here in Lerwick. Maybe a few, but for you or me it may as well be save, so long as you don't go around waving gold and pearls in both hands while walking down a dark alley. I for one look forward to working with you all. I'll be at the town stables when you are all ready.\"" } ]	379	1,170
660.333333	2023-09-07	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Captain Domiel Marques \| The Tempest", "message": "The inn's neglected steps groaned in protest, unaccustomed to guests, as an elven pair emerged from their room seeking familiar faces. Domiel, with tightly braided hair and a severe look, led her drowsy sibling to the nearest table. Rivet dropped into a seat, resting her head on the chair's back and staring blankly up at the ceiling. Her drawn out groan was heard only by her sister in the otherwise empty room.\n\n\"Do you need to go back to bed?\" Domiel questioned, sitting beside her twin, head cocked as she listened for the innkeeper. The establishment seemed rarely visited, she doubted the owner was in the habit of waking early to prepare food for travelers. Still, she hoped for such a miracle as the day began. \n\nRivet rolled her head to meet her sister's gaze, \"Is that an option?\"\n\n\"No,\" Domiel replied, a cruel, teasing smile breaking her austere expression, \"I'd never get you up again. I'd have to recruit Drake to carry you back down the stairs.\"\n\nThe wild maned elf perked up at the mention of his name, flashing a wicked smile, \"Ah, you'd be making the mistake of assuming I wouldn't drag him to bed with me.\"\n\nDomiel muttered a response littered with curses, shoving her sister's chair with her boot while hoping Zephyra would soon join them. Keeping Rivet, Drake and the man accompanying him in check was not a task she wished to tackle alone. \n\nAs Rivet tried to recapture the peace of sleep Domiel's attention strayed to the window. Dust drifted lazily in the narrow shaft of light and already the oppressive heat of the sun could be felt. It seemed harsher here, not as kind as the sun that warmed them at sea. In this desert place it did not make the ocean's spray shimmer like scattered diamonds, or gently color their skin gold. No, in Khisfire it burned. It drained life from the land and its people, perhaps even drove them mad. After all, their strange rumors were what lured Domiel to Maat." }, { "author": "Zephyra Laskarina", "message": "\"You are a lucky woman.\" A voice broke into the conversation, smooth and confident, clear as day. \"We are not at sea - and so if you Did Manage to drag him into bed with you, you would be spared the hard fall of being turned out of your hammocks before I set you both to work. As things are, the floor of the inn is not half such a distance from the bed.\"\n\nAn elf woman, a familiar sight, descended upon them both to sit at the right hand of her captain, and settled beside Domiel with a smile - and a cautioning glare at Rivet. Zephyra was a relatively sturdy looking woman, fit as an athlete, with with hands used to work and a well-proportioned form. Her nose and jaw were striking, and her eyebrows were strong. Many scars striped her hands and forearms, a mixture of knife marks, rope burn, and regular burns.\n \nShe had put on a light yet sensible skirt of navy blue, a blouse of white, and a thin jacket of the same navy, with a white scarf bundling her hair back and covering her head, and a wide linen sash of navy and white stripes tied around her waist. Into it were tucked a dagger, intricate in its brass engravings, and a long cutlass, of the same make, with a wooden handle and elaborate brass scabbard. \n\nHer appearance was well taken care of - and it had been evident she had not spent the day in bed. Zephyra's hands were always occupied, and that was no less true here - as she sat at the oaken table, the smell of the dry air in her nostrils, she brought a small piece of parchment from within her blouse, laying it out on the table. A map of the area, marked with the places they had been and the destinations they needed to see. \n\nZephyra was a wanted woman in Khisfire - wanted for murder - but she doubted any knew her face after so long. People came and people went in this kingdom - money changed hands, and justice was never prevailing for long. What They* Called justice, anyway. She was of the firm mind that the man had not deserved the breath he had taken.\n\n_ _\n\"If I recall, Captain, you wished to add a destination?\"" }, { "author": "captaincatnip", "message": "「 ༄ 𝔻𝕣𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕊𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕞𝕓𝕠𝕣𝕟𝕖 ༄ 」\n\n\"What shall we do with a drunken sailor, early in the morning? Shave his belly with a rusty razor! Shave his belly with a rusty razor! Shave his belly with a rusty razor!* And... C'mon, Ehkan! You sing the next verse!\"\n\nFor most normal folk, such a chipper attitude in the early morning was nonexistent. However, for Drake Stormborne? It was practically unheard of him to Ever Tire of such animated energy. Regardless of the time of day or night, Drake remained as lively as ever. No sour attitudes or threats of violence ever appeared to phase the man, simply rolling off his back like Water; Which only ever emphasized the fact that he was Born To be a Water Genasi. He rarely diminished his spirit for the adjustment of those around him and instead, adapted to the current of the atmosphere for maximum enjoyment of life. \n\n\"Wait! I cannot cease it, allow me to continue... Way hay and up she rises! Way hay and up she rises! Way hay and up she rises! Early in the morning!\" Drake unfurled a wide toothy grin while he cast a glance at his friend, \"My, don't you love that song? It gets the blood pumping... The water flowing!\"\n\nA hearty chuckle escaped from the Water Genasai's lips, his entire body nearly vibrating with joyous laughter. He couldn't hardly contain his excitement for the adventure to come. Sure, every pirate and criminal adored the precious shimmer of gold heaps yet... The exploration of a land untouched and undiscovered was the True Treasure. Captain Domiel Marques knew this, and Drake was lucky enough to be invited by The Woman of The Sovereign Soul To embrace such treasure. Drake had been a pirate for nearly all his life, enough so that he had begun to crave more than simply gold for his secret cove of goodies; rather, the man desired the deepest and most haunted of Lucidien's secrets. He wanted what nobody else dared to claim, what the world would Deny Him if he had not a single backbone within his body. Which is precisely what motivated his liquid frame to bounce to life this early morning. He had the rarest and truest of all treasure to uncover! Surely enough, Drake had snagged Ehkan along the way to Maat in the early hours. The Sun Elf rambled on about other activities to fulfill his day, however, it was quick work of persuasion when Drake promised gold, mystery, and stunningly badass ladies. Therefore, the two men came to a swift agreement and hustled to the rendezvous location set out by Domiel without another glance or thought to the past. \n\n\"Aha! There is the Inn!\" Drake pointed out the building ahead, his azure gaze glinting through the slanting rays of the early sun, \"Appears we are right on time, my friend. I am certain you will not regret this day, the day you agreed to join the Son of the Storm for the most daring of daring quests. How do you like that, Son of the Sand?\" He smirked as he sent one last glance at Ehkan.\n\n༄\n\nWhen the men closed in on the entrance to the Inn, Drake eagerly pushed forward to separate himself from Ehkan and slam open the door. With a bright and toothy grin, the pirate greeted the early morning patrons with an extra unnecessary dose of enthusiasm. \n\n\"Ahoy, world!\" Drake beamed loudly. The barkeep sent a deadpan stare his way, for even he was not awake enough for this certain pirate's antics. Regardless, Drake proceeded unphased from the disgruntled audience among the Inn and made a beeline for the group of pirate ladies in the back. His eyes glimmered as he examined each woman; Domiel, Rivet, and Zephyra. They were all admirable women in his eyes, more than deserving of both respect and fear across the seas of Lucidien. As he approached the table, he yanked an empty chair and swiveled it around so he could straddle the seat yet still face the ladies at the table.\n\n\"Well, well, well. If it isn't Dangerous Dom, Radical Riv, and Zippy Zeph! This is quite the party, well with ol' Ehkan and Drakey too,\" The Water Genasi offered a charming smile, \"Say, how about we fill up on some lucky liquid before we head out? I haven't had my morning fill yet. I came straight here, as per Captain's orders.\" He sent a friendly wink towards Domiel. His own Captain, Magnus, greatly discouraged any sort of reckless behavior such as drinking while on the job. So with Captain Domiel, it was like he was on some sort of vacation. And with Rivet, it was like he was destined to utterly Wild out..." } ]	478	1,981
399.75	2022-05-23	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": " Khione's Protector ", "message": "\"𝕊𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕚𝕤 𝕕𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕥𝕖, 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕖𝕟𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 𝕠𝕗 𝕚𝕥 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕔𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕦𝕗𝕗𝕠𝕔𝕒𝕥𝕖.\"\n┴┈┈┈┈■┈┈┈┈┴\n┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ \n┊ ┊ ┊ ✧ \n┊ ┊ ✦ \n┊ ✧ \n✦\n\nA cloud escaped the lips of the tiefling. He held his trident tightly as he wanted through the sheer cold of the forest. His feet, buried in the snow beneath him. Any other tiefling would've been conflicted with how Jiao-long handled the cold. He was searching, not sure for what, but he was looking. It wasn't often he'd leave his cave, but even a tiefling has to eat.\n\n\"One, two, three, three, two, one. He whispered. Jiao-long refused to talk to others, it wasn't often that he'd go out of his way to speak to someone either. His moments of childhood continuously played out for him. The screams of his mother echoed through his head. \n\n*{SNAP}\n\nQuickly turning to the source of the sound, he launched his trident. It would puncture the creatures skin, and the force of the throw would drag the creature through the snow and attach to a tree. It was just a boar. He released a sigh and approached the dying boar. He watched and listened as it squealed and struggled in pain. Grabbing the shaft of his trident, he removed the weapon from the boar and stabbed it in the head, as to end its misery.\n\n\"Rest easy now, friend.\"* He then grabbed the boar by the fat and proceeded to drag it through the snow, ready to return to his cave." }, { "author": "Kivrus, The Undying", "message": "While the forest of Morthal was surprisingly peaceful for the most part, a loud *Crrrraaack* Would soon erupt into the quiet of the snowy woods. The ground rumbled ever so slightly before settling again, and ahead of the tiefling a cloud of snow could be seen floating in the air from an obvious disturbance below it. It began to settle once more, and a clear divot in the snowy ground could be seen. Alongside the pure white powder covering the ground, another color began protrude from beneath the snow; metallic grey. It was still, and upon closer inspection it was obvious it was some sort of piece of metal, perhaps a weapon or suit of armor? While it was silent for a few more moments, a groan soon came from the mound of buried metal, along with more movement.\n\nThe snow shifted yet again, revealing more of the now obvious suit of armor. Now the helm and shoulders could easily be seen, along with a faint purple glow within the suit of armor. It was obvious something ethereal or paracausal in nature. Whatever the case, the movement subsided once more, aside from the faint glow within the armor. Whoever or Whatever Was trapped beneath the snow looked as though they were either on the brink or perhaps already gone, and whatever was left of them was 60% buried in snow. The divot the armor sat in was a good five feet deep at least, and the powder-like snow would easily shift around it. The snow over the armor however was significantly more heavily packed in, which would make it easy to understand whoever was buried beneath struggled to escape." }, { "author": "Jiao-long, Khione's Protector", "message": "\"𝕊𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕚𝕤 𝕕𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕥𝕖, 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕖𝕟𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 𝕠𝕗 𝕚𝕥 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕔𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕦𝕗𝕗𝕠𝕔𝕒𝕥𝕖.\"\n┴┈┈┈┈■┈┈┈┈┴\n┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ \n┊ ┊ ┊ ✧ \n┊ ┊ ✦ \n┊ ✧ \n✦\n\nJiao-long instantly dropped his dinner and wielded his trident with both his hands. The shaking of the ground under his feet startled him for a second, as well as the cloud of snow flakes in the air.\n\nMost times Jiao-long wouldn't be interested in phenomenons in the area, but this one interested him slightly. He listened as the groan was emitted from the body of armor. Cautiously, he approached the armor. He pointed the trident at the snow it was buried in and waved it around.\n\nA blue light began emitting from the ends of the trident and the snow that covered the armor separated itself from the metal. He heard stories in Gantrick about animated armor, but he has never had an encounter before.\n\nHe held a serious expression, his trident still pointed at the armor. He stood at least 20 meters away from the armor, prepared to defend himself in case it attempted an attack. He never spoke first, but in this situation he was interested. \"Speak.\" He demanded." }, { "author": "Kivrus, The Undying", "message": "As the heavily packed snow began to shift and be removed from their chest and legs, Kivrus could feel the light of the sky above covering them heavily. The armor that surrounded their souls soon began to move on their thought, and eventually the animated armor sat upright. While they were in a five foot deep divot, being a total of seven feet tall allowed their shoulders and head to peek out and inspect the voice that demanded them to speak. The glow of purple that seeped through each crack and crevice of the elaborate armor soon shifted to a deep, blood red, and a male voice soon emanated from the soul-fueled armor. \"You would Dare Command a captain of the King Xuldraydis' army?!\" The snow began to shift much more quickly, and soon the animated armor stood to its full height. That red glow flickered once more, and shifted into a soft, pearlescent blue.\n\n\"Calm yourself brother. He helped us after all..\" A female voice was now speaking rather than a male like before. Both voices were completely different, but all of this was strange regardless. The animated armor took a step forward, only to sink down even more into the snow. The red glow returned, followed by a groan of anger. \"Damn this snow and ice to Infernum! Damn you, Ludolai, for dragging me to this god forsaken wasteland!\" The animated armor began to shift and make angry gestures and poses, until the blue light took over once again. \"Arokkh, not now. You'll scare our teifling friend, idiot.\" Kivrus then turned its head toward the tiefling, and the purple light returned as both the brother and sister spoke in harmony. \"What is your name? We are Kivrus.\"" } ]	387.5	1,599
404.75	2022-06-02	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "stereoescort", "message": "╔•═════•༺۝༻•═════•╗\n\n\"I'd like to think of myself as the latter, blood eater. Care for a dance?\"\n\nComing into view, Vincent drew his silver blade. Although it didn't have any effect in this universe (apart from classical vampire mythology in real life), he still was more accustomed to fighting with it, and he even had sharpened it this morning. And fighting a vampire was more dangerous than fighting some monster in this forest. Not only vampires were far tinier targets than large monsters, but they also boasted far superior strength and agility. Vincent had fought only one vampire before, and wouldn't it be for a nearby cleric with a vervain-coated dagger, he'd probably be dry by now. Oh, if only he had packed some vervain extract today!\n\nNo matter. The human calmed his breathing, his heart rate, and began cautiously approaching the vampire. Vincent didn't use shields, because not only he preferred using only a blade in battle, but also because it'd be rather heavy. And not having a shield means he has to learn how to dodge, which can be more effective than blocking an attack.\n\nHis hand was steady, gaze sharp. Quite ironic from how a simple hunt for a mindless beast this had turned into a duel with a dangerous race, whose entire existence was based on the life force of others. Vincent tried recalling everything he knew about vampires, most information coming from the cleric that had saved his life back then...\n\n╚•═════•༺۝༻•═════•╝" }, { "author": "unacceptable1", "message": "Watching as the humanoid hunter made their way forward, Myrdynn tilted their head slightly to the side. He hadn't smelt someone like that before, and yet he knew it in the back of his mind. Perhaps he would find out more when he drained them of their soul. For now his questions would have to wait, seeing as this hunter was keen on a fight.\n\n\"And yet this trained warrior approaches a Vampire unprepared. After it has fed, no less. When it's at it's strongest.\"\n\nAs the cursed one spoke, they held a hand out to the side as crimson wine was wrenched from the bloody grasses. In Meph's hand formed a sickle. An odd choice of weapon indeed, but this one was not bound by the sharpness of the tool. He could make it as fine as a razor or as blunt as a dull mallet at will. Hemomancy was a dangerous art in both practiced and unpracticed hands. Vincent had been able to guess they were a well-off mage, as the conjure was practically flawless. It wasn't everyday a vampire went for a stroll, let alone a skilled mancer.\n\n\"For all you know, this monstrous beast may not want to fight at all. Mayhaps, it isn't hungry. If it makes you feel any better, I only feed upon the wretched. Though I doubt such a- valiant and practiced beast hunter would care how his prey acts, so long as they are a beast.\" \n\nMyrdynn continued to speak as he moved along the grasses in a pace, awaiting the arrival of Vincent. He would much prefer diplomacy in this situation but he had a feeling a battle might be inevitable regardless. He let out a simple sigh before twirling the sickle in his hand as it formed into a shortsword, more blood coming from around the plain to extend it.\n.\n\n\"I do what wonder what you are though. You are different from everyone else. Unique. You're unfamiliar to me, but I trust that once I feast upon your succulent soul I will understand what you are. Not an elf, I've smelt plenty of those. Not a dwarf, clearly. You may be a shapeshifter, but I've never found one like you. How wonderous. A new flavor. Is it bitter? Sweet? Tangy? How about we find out together.\"" }, { "author": "stereoescort", "message": "╔•═════•༺۝༻•═════•╗\n\n\"I'd very much appreciate if you'd refrain from eating me.\"\n\nHaving a bit nauseating feeling in his stomach, Vincent only now noticed the victims of the vampire. But could he back out now? It would hurt his pride, and he still was eager to exchange a few swings with the bloodsucker. He was born to hunt, to fight. His entire bloodline had done the same since a long time ago. That's how they survived. Perfecting their skill and technique, Vincent's ancestors fought their way into the forest.\n\nThough, he hadn't thought about what someone's reaction would be to seeing a human, so the man was a bit surprised at this. But then again, it didn't take much thinking for it to make sense. But the vampire did make a good point in not caring about how the monsters he hunted act. They all were a threat, though, weren't they?\n\n\"Maybe you could find the answer to what I am in the past long lost. Think about it while we fight. My experience shows that the mind works best when a single wrong move can lead to your demise.\"\n\nFeeling he's close enough, the human carefully attacked first, as if testing his opponent. Vincent would've preferred to fight someone he can't communicate with, someone who wouldn't make him question things. But, as they say, humans can adapt. They have no choice but to.\n\n╚•═════•༺۝༻•═════•╝" }, { "author": "unacceptable1", "message": "\"Do you fear death? Do you fear that your pointless hunting will leave no mark on the world after you're dead and gone? Have you considered what an animal feels like before you lob off it's head like it's just another body of cattle to the slaughter? Perhaps I could show you the fear. Let you taste death. It is not pleasant.\" He said with a sneer, watching as Vincent took a swing of his silver blade.\n\n\"Yes yes let us have at each others throats over a few dead undesirables. While I cleanse the world of those that do it purposeful harm, you slaughter divine creations for their nature. This forest did not grow around you, *Human*. You grew around it. So tell me, by what right do you get to claim what is a monster, and what is a simple living, breathing, contributing piece of Fauna. Remove one species from this grand maze for being 'violent' and 'dangerous' and you could very well bring it down to nothing but dying hedges.\"\n\n\"We mortals are but a plight. Everywhere we go. You, dearest hunter, are a perfect example. We believe ourselves to be- superior, in a way. That we have a choice here. A choice that matters. To 'evolve', or sit back in our palaces of gold and claim that we are not what we could be. While one might claim that the gods do not care, I would beg to differ. The Great Dying, an act of a mortal race attempting to lay claim to what is not theirs. What was never theirs.\"\n\n\"None of this world is ours. It will be here long after each and every one of us feeble-minded idiots has rotten far bellow it's lush greens. Assuming we did not burn them to nothing but ash during one of our useless wars. I'm on a rant now and drawing from my point. I will show you what it feels like. How do you think it will feel to be put down like a bad dog? You are no warrior next to me, dearest hunter. I've slain Dragons, and fed upon Lords. I am Myrdrynn Mephistopheles Ardrivar, and I will be your Harbinger.\"\n\nWith the rant done, the vampire simply moved away from the blade." } ]	404	1,619
438.25	2022-06-13	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "stereoescort", "message": "╔•═════•༺۝༻•═════•╗\n\n\"Gah!\" \n\nHolding the wound with his left hand, the human drew his steel blade out of its scabbard. As blood dripped from his wound, Vincent pulled himself up. The leather armor had protected him from the wooden shrapnel, but he was sure a rib or two had been broken. Maybe the vampire was right. What had he been thinking, trying to hunt down beasts far more powerful than him with bones that shatter under the tiniest amount of pressure? With skin that's as easy to pierce as a piece of silk with a needle?\n\n\"You're right. Humans Are Weak.\"\n\nHowever, a brave smile grew on his face, as seemingly all fear had left him. His back straightened, fist clenched around the handle. Letting go of his wound, the human pointed his palm against the vampire, pulling his fingers into a simple sign, made to conjure magic in one specific way.\n\n\"But it's our weakness that makes us strong. That makes us keep going, to prove that we can best others who have adapted, grown to suit things better than humans. You've clearly forgotten how it is to be a human. You think you're better. Well, that's not wrong. But then again, it is.\" Concentrating on the spell, the man spoke the trigger word, power emanating from it. \"Aard.\"\n\nA shockwave, powerful enough to throw the vampire back, exited the human's palm. The hunter had already taken action while the vampire was still airborne, beginning to run at his opponent, ready to slash them. Never give up - that's what his family's motto was. And he was going to come back from the dead if he had to, just to defeat his opponent.\n\n╚•═════•༺۝༻•═════•╝" }, { "author": "unacceptable1", "message": "\"Okay, I'm done talking.\" They stated, just before the Hunter released the blast. Flying off the ground, he growled as his body twisted violently in the air. The beast always hated the idea of flying... Heights in general were terrifying. Pray to whatever god heeds vampires that Meph will never have to endure the clouds, lest he be dead. Even then, more likely that Myrdynn will end up going to whatever hell is deemed fitting. Eyes zipping back to the approaching human, Mephi threw his hand out as the weapon shifted into a small barrier of blood. Not fast enough, the silver blade cleaved into his hand as the surplus blood lost it's shape, dropping over Vincent.\n\nLanding on the ground, the Ardrivar held a super-hero landing pose as he glared at his hand. \"As much as this hurts... I know you feel much more pain than me.\" A sharp grin forming on their face, his other hand shot up as a dark glow flew from his fingers. At that moment Vincent released he was covered in blood- and he was fighting a powerful hemomancer. Pull away that instant, or suffer the pain. If only he was faster than a vampire.. With that, he felt his body seer with a fuzzy feeling- and then he felt the wound in his gut grow considerably more painful. If he looked down, he could see a writhing mass of blood swirling within him, bright strands of jagged.. Something coursing through it.\n\nRipping his hand from the blade, they leapt aside in an act to evade whatever move they attempted to make. \"Surrender, or I'll blow you into bits. You know I can.\" In reality, he wouldn't do it regardless of his answer. If they did surrender, fine and dandy- if they didn't? Well there still needs to be a corpse for you to feed- \"I am not your enemy- regardless of what I've said. I did tell you it was just a game to distract you. And from the way you're fighting I would dare to entertain the idea that it worked. Unless your ancient lineage really were just hermits with sharp sticks? Not my point.. Surrender or die, fool.\"" }, { "author": "stereoescort", "message": "╔•═════•༺۝༻•═════•╗\n\nBuuut, as we all know, when angry, humans are:\nA. Stupid\nB. Very stubborn\nC. More brawn than brain\nOr\nD. All the above\n\n(The answer's D by the way). Pushing through the pain, Vincent knew he had to at least give the vampire a mark by whom he'll be remembered. Preferably a really uneven and ugly scar, if he had to die. Lifting his blade once more, Vincent realized a few things that will definitely impact his great plan of leaving a really uneven and ugly scar on the vampire. One of which was that he had lost a lot of blood, which in turn led his legs to be just a teensy bit weary (that's a lie). Falling down on his back, his legs no longer being the strong supports he's used them to being, Vincent looked at the grey sky, as he laid there in the snow. All anger had vanished, as it usually does when helplessness takes place.\n\n\"What a load... Of... Bullshit.\"\n\nWearingly, the hunter said, pulling out a knife. If he has to go, he'll go on his own accord! No way in hell this vampire will have the finishing blow on him. His mind wandered to what his opponent had previously mentioned. Maybe he misheard him? The vampire had mentioned that he'll be Vincent's harbinger. Not that he was great enough to need one...\n\nAs he laid there, the knife still not pulled out, Vincent realized that he, in fact, was going to freeze to death, and wouldn'ta that be a crummy juncture, huh? Maybe it wasn't time to die yet. No. Not yet, Grim Reaper. Your visit shall be postponed to another day, preferably a few decades. Vincent wasn't THAT old yet.\n\n╚•═════•༺۝༻•═════•╝" }, { "author": "unacceptable1", "message": "\"Oh- now it's going to kill itself like that's better- You would think a proud hunter would rather die in glorious battle against a powerful foe but- who knows maybe suicide is more honorable to you.\" Glancing at the confused human, they just let out a groan and stepped along, wrenching the knife from Vincent's hand as Meph's wound was already starting to heal. And at an astonishing rate, no less. Vampirism has perks.. Throwing the knife out into the forest, as he glanced at the dying dude. \"You didn't actually think you could beat an ancient vampire all on your own did you?\" They asked, grasping Vincent by the shoulder in a crushing grip as the hunter was lifted from the ground.\n\n\"I could help you- but I don't know if I should let you live. Who knows- maybe I could make a friend of you. Worth a try I suppose- so long as you aren't against my monstrous hunger and disastrous disease. But it seems like you are- so. Then again you don't have much blood to feed on so there's no good reason to kill you, especially with how rare humans already are..\" Pulling a slav squat, the blood ball shifted, as it practically walled off the hole. Thankfully it wasn't too large so- they could probably heal it overtime, with the heavy overuse of magic. Meph couldn't help but wonder how this dude would live. \"I could turn you into a vampire. You'd heal for sure plus you would make a much more efficient beast hunter.\"\n\nGlancing about the filthy clearing, Myrdynn stood up. \"So- would you like me to leave you here or perhaps try and keep you alive? As I stated I don't actually have a reason to kill you. Yet.\" Reaching up, the vampire rubbed his nose in annoyance. \"I hate stuffy noses... I mean I can heal from just about anything but I've never been able to avoid this damn runny snot locker. Oh- right you're dying. You might not even be able to talk. Here I'll make it easy. Look me in the eyes if you want me to try and heal you, and look at my jugular if you want me to turn you. Simple.\"" } ]	440	1,753
532.2	2023-07-02	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Rosera Silvermoore", "message": "In the middle of the night upon clear skies, the stars of twilight alongside the ever glowing moon shines brightly upon the land of Gantrick. Shining the way to those who cannot see through the darkness for all of the living and the dead to see. Upon the dark forests of Morthal, a caravan guarded by a small number of warriors would be seen escorting what seemed to be caged slaves. From children to grown men and women, destined to be the work force of the country's many abundant assets. All wearing ragged and dirty clothes with weak bodies due to the hunger and bitter frost of the unforgiving land.\n\n```Halt.``` \n\nOne of the guardsmen in the front of the carriage would raise one of their hands and issued an order. In the light of the moon that shines, it has also casted numerous shadows in its wake. Upon which a certain individual was hiding in the shadows of the trees, their feet being the only thing visible for the guards to see. Without even saying a single word, all of the guards of the caravan would ready their weapons. Spear, axe, sword, and bow. 8 people in total, handling two of each weapons. \n\nIn the shadows, the individual would give form a small smirk upon their lips. Advancing immediately without hesitation, she began charging with incredible speed. Catching the guards by surprise due to this, they immediately went on to form a defensive front. Guarding their archers as they started to fire their arrows towards their unknown foe.\n\nTheir assailant moved with incredible fluidity, grace, and agility. Showcasing evasion similar to that of dancing. Left, Right, it was like a young maiden's summer dance. Not before long, they had leaped onto a tree and jumped right in the air while doing a crescent moon flip. With a wooden bow in hand, a line of blue light would form as the string of weapon. Aiming at the two archers, she would conjure two magical arcane arrows upon her fingertips. Making a swift shot that immediately pierces through the defensive vanguard.\n\n-\nLanding on the chest of the individuals, they would let out a scream of pain and agony as they get staggered and fall down to the snowy ground. The individual would perfectly land, showcasing themselves in the light. Revealing a beautiful visage of a white haired elf with eyes shining like the seas of beaches across Lucidien. Skin tone having a grayish color, looking similar to a dark elf's. Yet it perfectly blends with the colors of the bark of the trees in the forest, making a perfect camouflage in these areas. Equipped with wintery garbs to protect from the cold, it is uniquely fashioned to look more like the attire of a ranger. Expressing free movement to the individual who wears it while offering little defense. \n\n\"Don't worry, those two are just sleeping. Didn't shot out their hearts after all.\" Her voice was sultry, playful, and somewhat mischievous in tone. The rest of the warriors began charging in. At the same time, she would only stare at them for a few seconds before moving her bow sideways. Conjuring several arcane arrows on it. \"Sorry boys, I don't have time to play.\"\n\nSoon came after where loud grunts, groans, roars and even shouts. Followed by strings being plucked that echoed across the forest." }, { "author": "Arsynn Presthyra", "message": "_Gantrick arguably the slave capital of Lucidien had a foundation built upon the profits of slavery. It seemed to be a common practice amongst the kingdom and its businesses. Arsynn as hand of the king many would assume that he enjoys slavery or even dabbles in it himself. But for the people who believe that they would be dead wrong. At the very least he tolerates it for the sake of his position and public image though at the core he hates it._\n\n_For some time now he had a deal going on with a local slaver under the table. The terms were simple: the slaver known as \"Kurt\" Would directly sell to him and in return he would be paid handsomely with the promise of silence on their dealings. Coin wouldn't be much of a factor for two reasons one being he comes from a noble family and the other being his position within the kingdom. The deals would occur exactly every 2 months around midnight. After the purchase of the slaves they would be sent to work for his family at their estate as servants. He figured being servants would be a lot better than laborers. For any slaves who were mothers or too young or too ill to work they would be set free and given small coin pouches to venture into the elements and hopefully survive. Though it wasn't guaranteed that they would live or survive the chance to escape that life was better._\n\n_As midnight quickly approached he began to put on his \"Skirmisher armor\" Which was perfect for stealth. His plan was to sneak out from his chambers and meet up with kurt. His face would be completely covered and so his identity was hidden. Now suited up Arsynn would leave through his window and quickly make his way towards the back roads... Their meet up spot. Once he made it to the start of the road he slowed his pace to a walk as he enjoyed the night time. It was something about the night that resonated with him on a deeper level. The coldness of the air and the shining of the distant moon. Perhaps this coldness reminded him of his younger brother and\n\nThe shine showed how he had seen him before his disappearance._\n\n_Following a horrifying scream his concentration of that of the past was broken... Immediately he knew who it was. Arsynn's eyes darted to his 12 o'clock. \"What the hell? Just down the road?\" He'd whisper to himself. Soon swiftly and quietly he fell off into the trees just to the left of the road and began to sprint in the direction of the sounds. \"Kurt what are you doing you fool..\" He'd mutter to himself as he began to close in on the group. His strong sense of smell due to his genetics allowed him to pick up on a scent. One that he was unfamiliar with but he knew it wasn't Kurt's crew._\n\n_Finally in view of the carriage he spotted what he would assume to be an assassin. His blood began to boil as he thought about the assassin who killed his wife. Despite his anger he was fairly curious. Why was this person targeting kurt? What could they want? Nevertheless he had to deal with this outsider. Arsynn slowly approached the stranger before scolding and making demands. \"What do you think you are doing? Reveal who you are stranger or there will be trouble. You cannot even begin to understand the business you are interrupting!\" He'd say irritatedly_" }, { "author": "Rosera Silvermoore", "message": "As the fighting ends, the female ranger was surrounded by incapacitated bodies. Not dead, only being unconscious due to sheer amount of pain. Their heavy and tough armor easily penetrated by her magical arcane arrows, they still could be visibly seen outwards before slowly fading into mere particles. One by one, she approached the men. Gently touching what skin that are exposed, hands, chest, neck. There, a ray of blue light would come from them, letting it enter into the palm of her hand. While at it, she would search for the keys of the cage. Eventually, it was found in the safekeeping of rather tough looking armored fellow. \n\n\"Thanks.\" Before moving to free the slaves, she could that something was amiss. The trees were silent, and the winds blew quietly with meekness. Falling snowflakes began to dwindle, and the area became quiet. Too quiet for a forest. \"...\" The female ranger would look towards in all directions, trying to look for the cause of such disturbance in nature. Only to hear someone's voice behind her back. \"*Shindu Fallah Na...\" Turning around, her attention would fully focus on the new arrival before her. However, unlike the other individuals, there was a different feeling and aura about him. Hearing his words, she took no time to prepare to dash toward the back of the caravan.\n\nWith one loud wolf whistle, a spirit guardian of a wolf would suddenly come out on one of the trees near Arsynn. It was fast, swift, and held no fear. Pouncing to him in an attempt to pin him down. It seems as though the female ranger isn't the one to talk, well, not at the moment. Confronting the scared slaves cowering in what little corner there is the room, she would open the gate. Instead of a terrifying face, she would meet them with a calm, gentle, and motherly demeanor as to give a sense of peace and harmony for them. \"Come, all of you. Go due east of here in that direction.\" Her hand pointed to where east is.\n\n-\n\"There, an escort of troops would be waiting. It is safe with food and shelter. I promise you that everything will be safe.\" Gently letting out her hand towards them, one of the slaves would reluctantly take her hand and jumped out of the cage. As soon as this happens, many more followed. \"Keep to the trees! You'll be safe under their shadow! I'll follow soon!\"\n\nAfter that, she would start moving towards Arsynn himself to check on the situation of her familiar. Now that the slaves has been freed, it's only a matter of time for them to escape. But for now, being a diversion is the most important thing at the current situation." }, { "author": "Arsynn Presthyra", "message": "_Arsynn is a very experienced individual. He has worked for years to reach the position he is currently holding. He has meant thousands upon thousands of individuals in gantrick. Some were rude and some were pleasures to meet. But in all of his time within gantrick this lady was the first to completely ignore him. A vein would begin to bulge from his forehead as he watched the lady open the cage._\n\n_Arsynn gritted his teeth at the outsiders' poor attempt at stalling. For even a novice knows once you are mid air you are vulnerable. He'd assume that the spirit couldn't possibly change directions mid air. Gripping his spear he would thrust in the direction of its chest hoping for success. Whilst he'd attempted to gut the familiar Arsynn would hold up his right palm._\n\n_Electricity began to ripple throughout his right hand as a countermeasure for said spirit. If his melee failed him he would follow up with an evocation spell. Shocking grasp was a spell only used close up which would allow the caster to shock its target upon a touch. \"You are becoming a very troublesome outsider... YOU ARE RUINING EVERYTHING!\"* He'd say with a grunt._" }, { "author": "Rosera Silvermoore", "message": "Seeing the spear charging to him, the familiar attempted to dodge by twisting their body to elevate their weight and go to the side. Yet it was able to manage to pierce through the side of the beast instead of its chest area. A more acceptable outcome, however, it wasn't able to dodge his Shocking Grasp. Making his fur spark up straight with shocking success.\n\nAfter sustaining damage, the familiar immediately dashed backwards toward his master. The wolf was shivering as it stood, slowly moving towards his master. \"Sorry, Feirun.\" Her partner would simply smile back at her before directing all attention towards the armored man. With a slow nod, she would also lock all eyes on him as well. \n\n\"I like your tone, Gantrickan. Why don't you cry next over in that corner? Might help you lose some stress over your lost 'items'.\" Her voice was sultry, sweet, but also very teasing. Attempting to enrage Asrynn with a few giggles and words, mocking him with some delight in his anger. With a deep sigh, her tone would slowly change for the worse. \n\nThe armored may feel that there was a change in the air and the aura that the ranger was giving off. It was cold, colder than the tiny snowflakes that covers this world. Empty as the soundless moment of this infinitesimal second, and finally, a gaze from the female ranger. Nothing but a blank face yet her eyes were filled with vengeance and hate. \"I'll make sure you suffer like a slave just like the rest of us, you fucking bastard.\"\n\nWith a motion of her hand, a rune would appear floating underneath the palm of her hand. A symbol of a bow and arrow would be seen planted upon the Asrynn's armor. If he's familiar with the spell, he has been selected to be hunted by the hunter. Hunter's Mark. Meanwhile, the wolf familiar would howl while bathing in moonlight. A couple howls would answer in response to the call." } ]	584	2,661
274.666667	2023-12-11	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Ehkan Noran Kippat", "message": "We never came to Gantrick, did we, my love?\n\nEhkan stood in the clearing with his spear in hand as if he were waiting for a fight, but this was not so, in truth, the Sun Elf was simply basking in the sunlight as he looked out to the clearing.\n\n He had never been to this kingdom, but that was because he was not stupid enough to come here, which was surprising. After all, he had always been stupid enough to head into danger even from a young age.\n\n Gantrick and Alynthi were looking for any reason to invade each other at this point, politics were never truly Ehkan's preferred topic, but he could see why Alynthi would raise a sword against the frozen Kingdom. \n\n There was a horrible slave trade this way, any race, save for Shapeshifters, was in danger of having a steel collar around their neck. He was smart enough to evade any encounter with potential slavers, taking the unknown paths through the Kingdom to avoid their soldiers who would most likely ask why he was walking about. \n\n And he had no answer to that. Why was he here? He has never been fond of winter, yet here he was. Maybe it was the nostalgia of moving about, for a while he had been in Alynthi dealing with problems here and there, but that had grown boring. \n\n His sense of adventure wished for something new, something challenging, and what was more challenging than cold he did not like? \n\n He touched his bow strapped to his back and thought of his first love. She would not have come this way in a thousand years, she was as adventurous as he was, but winter was a pain in the ass. He chuckled at the thought of her teeth chattering and walked on, hoping to find something, or even someone engaging. \n\n So long as they did not carry chains in hand for him." }, { "author": "Nargul", "message": "Sitting on a stone some distance away, Nargul rested his forearms on his thighs, a slight learn forward out of some curiosity for the displaced Elf. Another stranger on the path - he's started to grow a fickle fondness for the small encounters. Though, he and the wolf besides him were reluctant to engage first. He's had a fair share of traps to escape in the cold, already.\n\nThe grey Orc lowered his hood once Ehkan came to a place where he'd be able to see Nargul more clearly, between some trees and nestled on a boulder among a cairn of them that dotted an otherwise desolate clearing of prickled and wind-shaped white ice and blowing winds. It was a gesture meant at least to announce himself without too much fanfare, so that the stranger wasn't put-off or put into an alert. But, Nargul watched him all the same with a curious stare, not caring to hide that from Ehkan.\n\nCircumstances and coincidences aside, Nargul was careful to keep in mind whatever caution the Elf he saw was likely to possess. Nargul was an Orc in Gantrick - for all Ehkan knew, he could be sitting here with half a dozen more in wait to drag him back to Dasvaz. So, to avoid that misunderstanding, Nargul withdrew a waterskin, crushing it in hand to break apart what ice had gathered, even as he had kept it close to his body to prevent total freezing. Holding it up, he hailed over to Ehkan.\n\n\"Long journey ahead? Strange place to be alone.\" He snorts, begging a question and bringing a quizzical bit of his sarcasm to bear. His expression and tone were reserved, though tinted by a bit of unspoken humor about a Sun Elf being far North." }, { "author": "Lohmar", "message": "The wolf besides stood on all fours, almost as tall as Nargul sitting. Auburn, orange, and black with strips of white that flecked his mane and face, the Dire Wolf only watched with curiosity for now, not reacting strongly to the stranger." } ]	378	824
310.666667	2023-12-12	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Ehkan Noran Kippat", "message": "An Orc and a wolf. \n\n Ehkan saw them in the distance but had learned it was best to leave people be. He had no sense of racism towards the large fellow, but he was well aware of the raiding parties that walked the kingdom, eager to trade a thing or person for a few gold coins. It was why he had his spear in hand, a way of warning he learned in Khisfire. \n\n But then, the orc lowered his hood as he walked to a spot where Ehkan would see him clearly, and watched him with curiosity across his face.\n\n Ehkan could not blame him, traveling alone was enough to raise eyebrows at him, but his race was also odd for someone coming down this path. A Sun Elf walking through Gantrick was not a sight one came across often. \n\n It almost sounded like the beginning of a bad joke. Which, Ehkan would have listened to if he wasn't a bit cautious of the large orc and his massive wolf. \n\n He halted and locked eyes with the stranger, but not with hostility or a sign of fear, more of simple recognition. He was not on this path looking for trouble, he even lowered his spear as a sign of it. \n\n The Orc raised a waterskin, crushed it, then raised it as he hailed him over. Ehkan heard the question and calculated whether he should respond. \n\n On one hand, the Orc has shown no sign of aggression, if anything, showing his face and offering water was a sign of comradery.\n\n On the other hand, it could all be a trick, a way to have Ehkan lower his guard and approach so the wolf would not need to cover a longer distance to pounce on him.\n\nHowever, Ehkan was already out here. He might as well hope that this stranger had good intentions.\n\n \"I do not know whether this journey is long,\" Ehkan admitted as he approached the Orc, looking around in hopes that nobody was waiting to ambush him. \"But I can say the same you about being alone, save for the wolf at your side. I am simply traveling through, in hopes of finding...\" He trailed off and shrugged, unsure of what to say. \"In hopes of finding something. Life has become simple? Bah. I do not know how best to describe my plight, but I am simply traveling. How bout you, stranger? A bit odd to be out here during this weather.\"" }, { "author": "Nargul", "message": "The Orc's eyes glanced over the spear. Well-kept, and with well-calloused hands wielding it. He gave a subdued grunt of approval, one that seemed to put the wolf at ease. Sloshing the waterskin about, so that each little shard of ice shattered within, he eventually offered it out towards Ehkan, with a small nod.\n\n\"You lose more than you think in this land. Your cheeks are sallow. Drink some - have a seat.\" Nargul says, any number of large stones nearby an adequate place to rest the legs. The Orc's words were blunt but balanced on the tongue - a leveled calm to them despite the biting, bitter chill that surrounded each stranger. The only one that seemed to not suffer overly much was the wolf, who's mane was frosted now with icy tips from blustering winds.\n\nOn hearing Ehkan's words, Nargul nodded along, ruminating in thought and searching the sky for his answers before he looked back to the Sun Elf and responded, his massive forearms resting on his thigh, a great sheathed blade sat next to him and the wolf.\n\n\"I don't know when my journey ends either. Mmh—\" The Orc cranes his neck to either side, a few pops and weary cracks from abated soreness coming and going, like the sound of breaking roots for all the denseness of his flesh. \"—I am seeking strength in lands far from my own. The way of things, so to say.\" He snorts, two fumes of hot air blasting snow and rime from his chin and chest.\n\n\"Nargul. This is Lohmar.\"" }, { "author": "Lohmar", "message": "The wolf, keeping an eye on the surroundings now, and seeming to prance more than prowl around the snow - turned his head over to look at Ehkan once more when he name was called, as if he possessed the cunning to understand it was an introduction. Otherwise, the wolf was a horse-sized thing, that seemed young for all its energy that it expressed with each little bound over fresh hills of snow, now crushed to canyons and craters by his paws." } ]	340	932
122.666667	2023-12-16	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Nargul", "message": "The Orc perched a brow through the Elf's tales in brief, nodding at times with a contemplative gaze leveled at Ehkan.\n\nWhen the Elf apologized, Nargul held up a hand as a dismissive gesture for that - palm out, before waving it away. \"Sometimes the words spill. It is no concern.\" He says, before pressing his palms into his knees, standing to his full height, that frayed and battle-worn cloak of his flailing for a moment as a frigid wind caught its end.\n\n\"I said before - I don't seek combat. I seek strength. Body, mind, and soul.\" He looks up a moment, watching a cloud begin to obstruct the sun, darkening their clearing with a pallid penumbra.\n\n\"But - a battle can bring understanding - of the foe, of the self.\" He says, tapping a pair of fingers to his own temple. \"You might know something I do not. Teach me, before we part ways.\"\n\nHe says, then putting the offer out plainly as they stand in that clearing - lonely and level snow stretches far to the edge of dark forests, whose secrets were well hidden by the shadows cast by clouds. In a way, it was as if the three of them were on a stage." }, { "author": "Lohmar", "message": "The wolf otherwise sat on his haunches. He turned his head to look between Ehkan and Nargul, remaining in place. An observer, a third - maybe even one to arbitrate the end, if it came to it." }, { "author": "Nargul", "message": "\"I'd rather know you by how you move. We can tell tales together as we walk from this place to the next town.\" He says, implying that he didn't intend for this to be a blood match. Just an opportunity for them to learn." } ]	52	368
297	2024-03-28	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Callen Haldir", "message": "𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐑 \| 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓\n┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅\n\nCallen entertained inn's and taverns. He was quite the fan of them. Whether it be robbing the place of any valuable decor, scouting out pretty ladies and men — he rarely went to simply just enjoy himself. Callen was many things; a drinker was not one of them. But, when he couldn't find a specific hunk of a Barbarian, he knew where to look. The same old place, where else? The front doors of the inn swung open. Inside the younger man walked with a rather irritable look on his face. His cloak that was already littered with discolored patches and stains had gotten ripped once more along the bottom, and there was visible scrapes along his left cheek. To put it lightly, he looked disheveled and a bit out of breath. \n\nCallen had most likely gotten into a brief squabble before he even made it to the inn. He couldn't keep himself out of trouble if his life depended on it. And to see his Barbarian friend mindlessly drowning in his sorrows with a cup in his hand, it only made him more frustrated. \n\nThe drow threw his arms up in obnoxious frustration, trudging over to the table that Baldwin sat at. \"Well, look who it is! I was starting to think you lost your way and fell in a ravine.\" His tone was sour. Callen took one look at Baldwin and scoffed, swiping the man's drink from him and holding it up. \"Come on, pull yourself together, tough guy. What's been going on with you lately?\" Callen's frustration gradually morphed into concern. He didn't like seeing his friend like this. His fist tightened around the handle of the cup, taking a reluctant whiff of the mead and cringing at the smell." }, { "author": "marscars", "message": "Also kinda small but wtv" }, { "author": "Vayra Vakara", "message": "Seperate from the table of the now reunited pair, flexed all manner of individuals. A few tables down in particular, sparked the beginning of another's grand entrance! Not by doorway, but by the slight inch up from her busy table. Formerly shrouded by the men sitting just infront, now came the view of another of Khisfire's unique locals! At first glance came the sprouting of sharp horns trailing through her long raven locks. A cheery smile in fanged fashion, eyes flickering in a golden hue not so blinding but almost like the famed Khisfiran sun! A grey skin to her tones, flattered by the soft gold adorned around her eyes. The Tiefling Mage, Vayra Vakara! Not a household name, but a local one! A young adventurer clinging to her travels, and so she did with all manner of optimism. Exchanging words with the group at that table, her business seemed settled as she seemed on the move!\n\nSlipping out from more of her cover, and further into more open viewing. - Soon the showcase of her Khisfiran garb came into view. The colourful nature of her homeland notable, her clothing was light and suited perfectly for the blazing heat of Khisfire. Dashes of her grey skin meshed in some places, an adventurers' sash draped over her shoulder and dangling against her waist. Of jewellery, only the faintest and common dashes that adorned her ears. She was no Noble, but she dared to find a style suiting her.\n\nA passing glance flickered around the array of tables as she stepped from her own, smiles exchanged with former strangers until her golden eyes flickered upon the Drowish pair. Intrigue flickered in that look for a moment, but not long enough to stare. The rush of a busy Inn made that clear, as she found herself expected to head barside. - Needy for a slip of liquor." } ]	407	891
389.333333	2024-03-14	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Baldwin, The Matron Killer", "message": "So she ran from her tent.\n\nRushing out from her tent, white dust rolling out from the flaps, Baldwin had paced behind Onrya. His hand opening his Bag of Holding as he had pulled out a ball and chair. Holding the wounded chain, he began spinning the ball, gaining momentum with the tool as he had prepared to utilize it to incapacitate the runaway slave.\n\nShe could not see, however she could hear. She could hear something swinging, chains rustling, before finally the sound of the wind breaking— Baldwin had launched the ball at the Rogue, while she was blind, in attempts to catch her arm with the ball using his barbaric strength, using rogue-like dexterity to handle the weapon. If it were to hit its true mark, the ball would use its momentum to wrap the chain it was attached to around her forearm— all in attempts to slow the woman down. To keep her within range.\n\nHer vision would slowly return as she'd be able to make out the appearance of her pursuer. A Drowish man with straight black hair, about neck length. As her vision cleared, he had a distinct cut across the right side of his lip, and another cut across his left eye. He eyed her with these amber eyes, pupils dilated as though he was a predator which finally had marked its prey. The Drow man had been built impressively. Broad shoulders, wide back, with a slimmed waist. His baggy pants had hidden the aesthetics of his legs, but it was safe to presume they had been built like tree trunks. The sleeves of his black shirt hugged tightly against his biceps— his forearms have been defined, vascular. He had been in peak physical condition, and carried with him an aura of awesome strength. He was all but simply _strong_ and appeared to be well verse with exotic tools— this ball and chain was something not commonly witnessed, but it wasn't unheard of in Khisfire to use such a weapon.\n\nThe Matron Killer was wordless in his pursuit, as he knew that _she knew_ what he was here for. He wanted her, and he wanted the bounty that came with collecting her." }, { "author": "Oryra Felanna", "message": "To say Oryra was scared was an understatement, she was terrified as she was trying to run from her pursuer. She could hear the sound of a chain which made her all the more terrified as it brought back some old memories she wished to avoid. She would make a dodge to the left as she did her best to avoid what was being thrown her way. Hearing it close and it graze by her arm was enough to make her try to run faster.\n\nAt being able to see her attacker as her eyes started to clear she felt more dread. They were a lot stronger looking than her which was going to be bad if they got too close. She would get some needles ready in her hand, she could try setting a trap but could it work during her escape? She'd not have that much experience with times like this but if she got to higher ground... Taking a chance as she spotted a few crates and go to trying to climb up to get to the roofs. She knew this was going to tear the stitches in her arm and would hurt but nothing seemed as bad as a wound compared to the drug used once to treat wounds. She would be cursing under her breath still as she thought there was more time before this happened.\n\nIf she wasn't on a run maybe she could have tried getting them to leave her alone but it she knew that couldn't happen with someone like them. No, they wanted her and the bounty that came with it. But she was not willing to just head back into slavery. She was going to keep trying to run and fight if needed. As she was heading up she would be setting a trap of her way up. Invisible threads that would cut anyone going through them if Baldwin went up the same way she does." }, { "author": "Baldwin, The Matron Killer", "message": "He missed. Such a shame. However with a strong yank, the ball would pull back towards him. Baldwin maintained momentum, not giving up the pressure as his eyes quickly scanned. He could visibly see he trail shift towards the boxes. If she were to take the higher ground, he would be at a disadvantage of being at a lower elevation. To circumvent this, Baldwin would launch the ball and chain again. This time with more vigour. With a tad bit more _violence._\n\nHis arm flexed, his veins popped as he let out a hefty grunt. The ball blasted forwards, reaching the box as she began to leap a foot up towards it. The ball at the end of the chain would blast through the create, compromising its structural integrity as it began collapsing in on itself as her foot touched the box. Her platform to get to a higher elevation stolen from her.\n\nAnother yank. His back flexed, shoulders rolling back as his antagonist muscles worked in unison to bring the ball back to him with a strong pulling motion. The ball at the end of the chain would begin coming back towards him, but not without attempting to strike her feet and trip her up. Debris from the box trailing with the ball's motion as he made the attempt to knock her over— to steal precious distance from her so he could get closer.\n\nHe wasn't just strong, no, he had a particular cunning to him. This wasn't the first chase he made, neither will it be the last he'll ever have. The Bounty Hunter maintained this serious expression— he would do his best not to underestimate his prey. She was, after all, a Sister of Salvation. He was intimate with one in the past— an ex of his. She had a fond place in his mind. However she gave him something even more important... _How to defeat the sisters, and their training._" }, { "author": "Oryra Felanna", "message": "Oryra cursed out loud when the crate would start to break, she hadn't thought he would do that but she hadn't been without a backup plan as she'd scowered the bricks on her way to the crate, taking a leap off the now broken crate and digging her hands into the uneven stone. She knew how to climb a wall she just hoped not to do so as it now had ripped open the stitches in her arm. She wasn't planning to go down that easy.\n\nShe's take a quick glance back to the bounty hunter after her. He was smart and strong. A bad mix for someone who couldn't use magic but her loom. Which if she could get some distance she could use it to make a trap with her threads. Just one sharp thread or her getting enough distance to get a good shot she could do a pressure point and make him immobile. Anything was better than continuing to run but she couldn't stop either.\n\nOryra had to keep going, there was no way she could let herself fall so she forced herself to move up the wall no matter how much it hurt to climb. Just a little farther and she would be on higher ground. She than could make the area above the alleyway blocked by the threads. That was the plan at least till she could think of the next step." }, { "author": "Baldwin, The Matron Killer", "message": "There it was, a new opening. While she dangles for a brief moment, her slight struggle from the pain of her stitches breaking apart as she pulled herself up. The ball now pulled back, Baldwin would take aim and exploit that instance of weakness. Twirling the ball and chain, increasing the speed and momentum, Baldwin would launch it at Onrya once more. He twist his body slightly, directing it to strike the Tiefling's centre mass. The metal ball had set its course to strike her side, aiming to crush a few ribs and even knock the woman down from her climb. He was _not_ letting her take off to the rooftops. It was simply not an option. Even if she managed to get to the roofs, he had his ways to reach her, but he didn't want the distance to grow between the two. It was a pain in the ass, anyways, to play catchup with someone who was light footed and slightly faster than you.\n\nBaldwin had been anticipating that things would not necessarily go his way. His next course of action was to take his off hand and press the gem piece that was on his chest. The gem would shimmer with a slight magic hue, activating the magic mechanism. A precaution for what was to come next.\n\nNext, he would yank the ball back. If he struck true or not, he would begin the process of returning the ball to himself to rinse and repeat the process. So long as the rogue hadn't disabled his ball and chain, he would be able to pressure her from mid to long distance. He possessed the advantage here, and would not stop until he had tired the runaway slave. She was likely more lethargic than him. Less food in her belly. He was full, well rested. If this became a battle of attrition, he would surely win. \n\n_\"I know your games, sister.\"_ Baldwin thought to himself, maintaining this eagle-like glare. His eyes cutting up and dissecting Onrya's movements.\n\nHe would dominate with his physical prowess, and he _will_ devour her whole." }, { "author": "Oryra Felanna", "message": "Oryra struggled knowing at the moment she was at a disadvantage with being in a dangling state. She would see the ball coming and knew it was act quickly or face getting severely hurt. Deciding she would have to risk a bit more injury she'd keep climbing up than letting go and running. She needed the high ground to have any chance to get away. She had a few seconds to get higher and thats exactly what she did. Using her blade she'd get a more sturdy hold before being hit. \n\nIt wasn't the exact place he had been aiming for but this time she did get hit. She would be hit more to her hip which was not a good spot to get struck, it would cause her to slip some, using a lot of her strength to hold onto her knife dug into the wall to keep from falling. Deciding she was needing to get rid of his weapon as well she'd let one of her thread slide through one of the chain links before the needle would get shoved into the wall as it seemed she would just swing her hand up to a new area to keep climbing. \n\nHis weapon now not being easily pulled back with her using her one thread which was as strong as rope to pin it to the wall as she would climb up finally to the roofs. Ignoring the pain she was feeling as she worked on getting up and ready to really fight. Least now she might be able to use one or the needles to render him paralyzed." }, { "author": "Baldwin, The Matron Killer", "message": "Once she was on her feet, she would feel a piercing pain where the ball stuck. She knew for a fact it would be heavily bruised, but it was more than that. The combination of Baldwin's strength, and the ball's inertia as it flew for her had undoubtedly fractured her hip bone. It hurt to walk in this moment, but she was where she wanted to be. On the roofs.\n\nBaldwin had looked up to where she was, and saw her figure struggling away from the ledge. The ball had been lodged into the wall, and not easily pulled out. _Big mistake._ Now Baldwin had a method of climbing up without needing to use climbing hooks. He instead ran to the wall and used the _chain_ to pull himself up to where he needed to go, much like performing a rope climb. Moving with such ferocity, using the advantage of having the ball pinned against the stone wall with that thread and needle, reaching the ledge wouldn't be much of a challenge.\n\nWhen Onrya felt she had a moment of respite, Baldwin's hands had grabbed the edge before his full body had pulled up and over the ledge— his raw strength seemingly defying gravity as he had pulled his form onto the roof with ease. He had been in a lowered stance, knees bent, and arms slightly extended outwards.\n\nHe relinquished the ball and chain, now seemingly unarmed. Not that he needed a weapon, his body was a weapon of its own. A slight shimmer had shrouded his form, as a faint blue aura lined his form. This was undoubtedly the work of magic at play.\n\n\"I'll give you this one warning. Surrender now, or I break your hands.\" Baldwin would threaten, as his body leaned forwards a bit. The man's amber eyes meeting with the Tiefling's own. \n\nWhat would win? The wounded rogue and her thread and needle? Or the bounty hunter of unparalleled strength and prowess?\n\nBaldwin's stance was animalistic in nature, as he remained unarmed in this instance. However his off hand however near his Bag of Holding...\n\nHe analyzed, and prepared to strike." }, { "author": "Oryra Felanna", "message": "Oryra winced at the pain in her hip, she knew it wasn't good by the pain alone but that didn't matter when she was trying to survive. Had she finally gotten away far enough? Nope, not even close as she saw their hand against the ledge. She should have made some poison, least than it could be in his hand by now but she didn't have the means to made such poisons at the moment. So, instead she would throw one of her needles into the area between his thumb and pointer finger, being up aways to a point that would cause pain when hit or pressed hard on to have tried to makw him slow down some. Backing up as she now favored her left leg she got ready to fight when they came up. She didn't have enough time to make a trap so that would have to do. Least now they seemed on a better playing field in her eyes for the moment.\n\nShe knew she was against magic but who cares? Was fight or just give up and she didn't like the latter. She wasn't just going back especially for now bounty hunter. \"If you think you will get that close to me you're mistaken. It took 10 guards to get me before one bounty hunter won't get me that easily.\" \n\nOryra was injured and lethargic, she knew her chances were thin but she wasn't about to show her fear. No she was always better at being cocky and stubborn in her ways. A reason she'd been a good sister till she wasn't. She was calculated now. She knew where to aim for it he striked. A disadvantage for him if she got another shot in." }, { "author": "Baldwin, The Matron Killer", "message": "Onrya's first hint of what magics were operating would come in the form of her needle bouncing off his hand. A magical blue discharge would be released as the needle wouldn't pierce through this blue aura— it would take a little more than a simple needle to pierce the Bounty Hunter's mettle.\n\nIf she was versed enough with magic, and presuming she studied her opponents well, this was a Mage Armour that was active. A precaution which Baldwin took when he touched his gem piece back down in the alleyway. It would need to take more pressure in order to break the magical barrier which he had placed onto himself— pressure the rogue might not be able to exude. However, perhaps with enough wearing, a needle _could_ pierce the Mage Armour. The question was if she had the capacity at this moment to even place a chip in his armour?\n\nBaldwin, now on the roof with her, maintaining his stance, would move his hand to collect something out of his bag of holding. \"Hmph.\" The Drow Male would select a weapon fitting for the moment. The rogue use thread and needle. She was dexterous, and thus would likely cut through everything he had to offer. He was going to need to put some range between the two and wear her out.\n\nFrom the bag he began pulling out a staff— it was evident it would be impossible to hide a staff in a simple bag, but due to this bag's nature, it was more than capable of holding the weapon. Having pulled the staff out, he took a stance. His body would stand bladed now, both hands upon the staff, towards the bottom closer to his body, as the Drow man would share a smile.\n\n\"I like it when they choose the hard way.\" Without a moment of hesitation, he would thrust the staff at Onrya, attempting to strike her centre mass with his weapon. This was a initial strike to force the rogue to react, as he was prepared to react accordingly. He hadn't planned to let up the pressure.\n\nNow engaged, the Barbarian was ready to show his martial prowess. He hadn't wished to rely on his Rage yet— it was a personal challenge of his not to rely on his innate skills immediately. This, to him, was a game. A heightened form of training.\n\nShe was just his training partner in this moment." } ]	390	3,504
310	2024-03-15	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Oryra Felanna", "message": "Cursing under her breath she knew it was bad when they had magic armor. It made her mark more difficult but not unreachable. If she could get enough of them in she could get through but it took a lot of hits she knew this. How many depended on the level and she didn't have time to try and decide that either. \n\nShe'd get ready for a strike, she didn't know yet what he had up his sleeve but she knew he had more than one weapon to use and that would make him not an easy mark. She had to start thinking of him as a target and not the other way around if she wanted to try to get out of this. Count the marks, be precise, if she could do this just maybe she could get away. That was her goal since she couldn't set up the wire trap.\n\nToo late she found out what he was going to use as she would barely dodge to the right, this would be hard as her shifting weight would cause more harm to her hip but it was better than getting hit by the staff. Doing her own counter as she let three needles stride the same area before retracting them back. She knew how to dance around an opponent only downside was she was tired and hurt which meant act fast or she would lose as she couldn't make a run for it and she knew it." }, { "author": "Baldwin, The Matron Killer", "message": "The act of violence... It was bliss. To catch smoke with another, to cause discord between two bodies, it was euphoric. The Matron Killer couldn't help but give an ear to ear grin as she narrowly dodged his thrust. He followed the thrusting movement by pivoting his lead foot, his body to follow her as she shifted towards the right, his hip shifting his weight and snapping the end of the staff at Onrya's head, not wasting a moment to let the runaway gain a moment of respite.\n\nWhether he managed to catch her with the snap of his staff at her temple, he would loosen his grip on the staff, before pulling it from one end to the other. His hands now gripping the top end of the staff, the rest of the staff's length behind him now. Bringing his arm and shoulder up, the needles would strike along the Mage Armour, causing a slight magical discharge to be released, causing the blue aura around his form to fade more and more. Baldwin was quick to realize that those needles were causing enough magical pressure by digging deeply through the armour to cause strain. How bothersome.\n\nHe rose his two arms up, bringing the staff over and head, as he would swing it from overhead and down onto Onrya, attempting to slam the staff into her collarbone. His body twisted, moving from an orthodox stance to a southpaw stance, still bladed. The momentum which the slam carried would be amplified as Baldwin placed the weight of his upper body into the strike— the air around the spear splitting from the sheer ferocity of the strike." }, { "author": "Oryra Felanna", "message": "Oryra scowled as they seemed to be enjoying this dance. She wasn't as much since she was injured, had she not been she'd probably be making taunts or something along those lines. But it was hard enough to concentrate through the pain to dodge and do her own attack. She'd shift her feet to keep from falling as she'd duck back barley having the staff miss her head, her countering again with three quick strikes in the same area. \n\nOryra would recover a bit of footing as she could see her attacks were working. She couldn't help but be a bit cocky as she's smile. Least it wasn't going all their way with trying to get her.\n\nThrough that quickly faded as she knew this wasn't going to be as good. Knowing she didn't have enough time to dodge the attack completely she'd use the threads to make a block of razer sharp threads between her hands before twisting her body to try and avoid most of the blow while letting the threads cut through the staff." }, { "author": "Baldwin, The Matron Killer", "message": "Baldwin's staff would segment into pieces, breaking as it lost its length. To the lesser warrior, they would see this as a detriment, to have their weapon broken. However to Baldwin, he was a master of underhanded tactics and improvisation. He no longer had a staff, that was true, instead he possessed a _stake_ now, having received a piercing edge thanks to the wire cutting the staff unevenly when it came down on her. Everything had been a weapon to some extent. A chair, a broken staff, ones body. Baldwin had conceptualized this well. Because he believed truly, deep down, he had been a weapon of mass murder.\n\nHis body followed the momentum of his downward swing, entering a crouched stance. While her hands were risen to segment the staff, Baldwin would identify that her lower body was exposed now. His back foot would push against the surface they stood on, rushing at her as they had but little distance apart. Moving with such ferocity, he would use the stake and aim to strike her abdomen, aiming to pierce into her flesh and draw blood. Had he run the risk of potentially killing his target? Yes he did, however he had means to circumvent her unfortunate demise. He stayed well equipped, and possessed alchemist salves to prevent fatalities.\n\nThere was more— if his strike had been true, he would use his offhand, opened palmed, and strike the butt end of the broken staff, attempting to further drive the improvised stake into her form. He didn't want her to fight anymore— he needed to mortally wound her to force the runaway to ask for his help.\n\nHe knew getting this close had its risks— fortunately, hr was confident his Mage Armour could sustain a little more pressure before needing to recharge. Not to mention, even if his mark hadn't struck true, there was no way she could keep up with his pressure.\n\nBaldwin knew he would win, and with her, he believed he would be one more step closer to his goal. The death of the Matrons.\n\nHow would Onrya react to Baldwin's assault?" }, { "author": "Oryra Felanna", "message": "Oryra thought that having the staff cut would help, make him back off just some for her to get a steady footing once again. But her thoughts were jumbled from pain and fatigue. It had save her from one hit yes but she wasn't able to easily avoid the next. Try as she might she couldn't so easily avoid the now spike, she would try to move her body to avoid the blow to the abdomen but with the quick movement her left hip would give out. She attention turning to keeping from falling over the spike heading towards her. \n\nShe couldn't do anything as the stake would go into her abdomen, she'd slide back a short distance before going down onto her right knee as she gasped at the new pain. She knew it was bad, she couldn't fight like this now. She no longer could run either since her hip had given out from moving so much.\n\nOryra looked up at the bounty hunter as one hand went to the stake. It would hurt like hell if she pulled it out but he also wouldn't get his reward if she came back dead. Was it really worth spiting this man? She didn't detest the idea to do just that, but she also knew she wasn't ready to just die either. Which was probably her downfall at the moment because she still wanted to do more. She'd still scowl at him though even though he'd bested her." } ]	289	1,550
354.666667	2024-04-18	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Baldwin, The Matron Killer", "message": "The Portan Slums,\n\nBaldwin, the Mage Slayer, the Purple Shadow, The One Who Escaped Lazaroth, _The Matron Killer_, whatever one desired to call him, had been quietly making his way through the streets. Adorn in a simple brown tattered cloak, he waded through crowds of the impoverished, his hands slapping away the curious hands of potential pickpockets, it was a regular day for him— A day where he wasn't on the job, where he wasn't slumming in a tavern to meet new contacts. No, today was simply _a day._ There was no excitement, no violence, nothing. It was boring, silent— his feet practically dragged as his eyes scanned the streets, trying to find something to do. Gamble, find a women who was being harassed, _anything_ to brush away this painful boredom which had him in a clutch.\n\nThe ambient sound of people walking, talking, had kept his mind busy. He hated being alone with his thoughts. When he wasn't intoxicated, or in the throes of blissful violence, he would contemplate his past. Lazaroth, his home, and how much colder the climate there had been.\n\nHe wondered how much time had he spent wasting thus far? Moving between contract to contract if necessary— he only had done this bounty hunter gig because violence had simply been the one thing he was good at. Killing Mages, how to dismantle their magics, it was what he was well trained for, that was the service he provided. A dealer of death.\n\nBut he yearned for something more— but what was it that he was yearning? He felt close to discovering what he wanted, no, _needed_ when he was with Dragomira. He was looking for something... _Real._ But now that relationship had burned to ashes, and he was left alone once again. Perhaps it was better that way. He didn't want anyone to worry whether he was dead or not. After all, did he matter in the grand scheme of things?\n\nHe did not.\n\nWhile his mind buzzed, he would notice the street had become emptier, as civilians seemingly had moved to the edges of the street he stood in the middle of.\n\nFurther down the street had been a group of men— adorn with garbs and leather armour, carrying weapons of different varieties. These individuals a mix of different races varying from Sun Elves, Orcs, Tiefling, and so on. There was at least 5 in front of him.\n\nLooking behind him, four more cut him off. Ah, so he was being flanked. His head looked forwards, as the Drow man had left our a hefty sigh. \"To whom do I own the pleasure to?\"" }, { "author": "The Chronicler", "message": "A man with a pair of Scimitars stepped forwards. A Sun Elf, with these distinctive golden irises, and tattoos upon his visage. He cleared his throat, before speaking in this somewhat eloquent voice. \"Oi, Baldwin. Long time no see, you filthy Drow.\" He had called out. \"Remember me? Left me in the bloody dunes with no food, no water, and a dead horse after you used me an' me boys for your job. Didn't even pay us!\" \n\nThe Sun Elf rose a scimitar, pointing it at Baldwin. \"This is wot we're gunna do. You're going to come with us into the desert, and we'll 'andle business there. If you refuse, we've already paid off the guard to let us gut ya like a fish in the middle of this street. After all, none will care for a dead Drow.\" The Sun Elf reasoned.\n\n\"What's it gunna be?\"" }, { "author": "Baldwin, The Matron Killer", "message": "The Mage Slayer would stand in silent contemplation. Nine versus one. Hardly a fair fight! The Drow had made a hefty sigh, before grabbing the edge of his cloak, pulling it off to expose what was beneath...\n\n...The form of the physically gifted. Baldwin, the Barbarian from the island nation of Lazaroth, exposed his vastly superior form. Even though he was clothed, one could tell the shape of his forearms, the way the muscle insertions had been clearly defined, had been a telltale sigh of the sort of Drowish Adonis he was beneath those layers of clothes. He wore this tight black tunic which hardly hid the insertions of his muscles, his traps notably peaking out from the collar. He had a single left leather shoulder piece strapped onto him, the strap which wrapped around his torso and back had a sapphire gem piece which had settled upon his left pectoral. Hanging by his side a bag— not just any bag however, a bag of holding, which contained a plethora of tools for him to use.\n\nThe Drow would draw breath, his chest rising. \"My day was just gettin' a lil' _too_ boring.\" He would say aloud, before bearing this ear-to-ear grin. \"You want me? Come and get me!\"" } ]	277	1,064
223	2024-04-23	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Baldwin, The Matron Killer", "message": "The Drow, as he was rearing to go, had a moment of pause as his gaze twisted toward two of the nine who had been thrown up onto a ceiling— removed from the fight. Joining him from behind him, a rather well built Tiefling woman. Baldwin's brows furrowed, before he scoffed. \"I think you've just skewed the odds against them.\" The Drowish Barbarian spoke thus, before narrowing his eyes to the five he had been speaking too. \"Alright, toots. Show me what you can do.\" Baldwin would open his Bag of Holding, before revealing one of the weapons from his arsenal. For this task, he would reveal a pair of wooden sticks with handles by their sides which the people of Khisfire referred to as a \"Tonfa\". Now holding the pair in both hands, he would now begin approaching the five..." }, { "author": "The Chronicler", "message": "The Sun Elf leader of this crew had been surprised, and furthermore, royally pissed. He would hold his scimitar up, pointing it at the pair. \"Strew their guts across the street!\" He would shout, before the seven of the remaining nine would now move onto Baldwin and Imlerith.\n\nImlerith, now having drawn her greatsword, would have two of the bandits from the four that originally flanked Baldwin from behind come after her. One of them had been garbed in a thick amount of clothes, holding a scimitar, while the other one, another Sun Elf, had a rope and dart.\n\nThe bandit with the rope and dart maintained a distance. Beginning to spin the rope, generating momentum, he'd launch the dart at Imlerith, attempting to aim and pierce her centre mass; the heavily garbed bandit, with their scimitar, would rush ahead after the dart was launched. Flourishing their blade, once close they would drop to their knees, sliding forwards as they'd attempted to gut the Tiefling— one swift motion in attempts to bisect the woman.\n\nThese bandits were a lot more skilled then one could anticipate." }, { "author": "Baldwin, The Matron Killer", "message": "Meanwhile, with Baldwin...\n\n...Two bandits rushed forwards with spears. They'd attempt to stick him in the chest with their superior distance, thrusting, but the Drow would lean forwards and roll along the sand ground. A aura shimmered around his form, as he had activated the gem piece that was on his chest— the Artificer tool creating a Mage Armour for the Drow. Rolling into a crouched position, the two spear tips over his head, Baldwin's back foot pushed against the ground to launch himself, extending the tonfa's out, utilizing their offensive capabilities to slam into both their guts.\n\nThe impact made was loud— the wind knocked out of the pair as they couldn't help but be stunned. Baldwin would rise up, flipping the tonfas so that they'd line against his forearms, he would then bash one across the temple with the tonfa which lined his forearm, before twisting and punching the other spearmen across the jaw.\n\nThe Drow made a husk laugh— Oh how he enjoyed blissful violence!" } ]	223	669
416	2024-05-21	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Curculio Lajoie", "message": "Curculio sat at a table positioned to the far left of the Crooked Fang Inn, his table positioned more so to the entrance. The window behind him gave way to a polite yellow color, shooting across the floor of the inn to add some color into the dilapidated building. Curculio found himself turning to the window more and more, completely neglecting the small plate of eggs before him. Vampires weren't Supposed* To enjoy things like the sun or food, but Curculio found himself breaking both stereotypes in a single move.\n\nThe sun, despite the pain it'd do to Curculio otherwise, brought a sense of humanity to Curculio after many, many years of cowering in the shadows. But things were better now, he had a special ring to combat the sun's rays and he strode around more confidently than he would've done... 700 years ago? Curculio turned away from the window and looked down at the eggs before him. He specifically requested something small before he went, as he had eaten a few days before. In the early stages of Curculios vampirism, he often overate in a desperate desire to satisfy his overwhelming hunger. Like all things though, with time Curculio learned to drink less and less blood, managing to keep a delicate balance over his humanity and age.\n\nCurculio ate his eggs at a slow pace, enjoying each bite as he looked around the inn. Everybody looked so peaceful, everyone moving around with their own tasks and worries. Curculio finished his eggs with a few small bites, sliding down the copper payment adjacent to his plate. He remained in his seat after he paid, more than willing to enjoy his surroundings before he began his walk to some other far away land. \n\nCurculio wore a full metal suit of armor, which gave him a funny look as he sat at the small wooden table. His helmet rested on the floor, right next to his feet. Other than that, Curculio clinked as he moved, wearing full gear. A lesser man might've taken off the gear to eat but Curculio had grown used to the experience." }, { "author": "Dulcinea", "message": "Dulcinea had been traveling for a long time after not being too scared to go to a big city. Something they felt bad about still but what could they do now? It was in the past and they just simply couldn't change that, they were running out of cash so there was nowhere to go but back. \n\nSure they had been trying to find a teacher but it hadn't worked out. Maybe traveling to find one hadn't been a good choice but they had learned quite a bit during their travels and noted all of it. Of course their regular writing was not easy to read with it being a mix between two languages, but they liked making it that way so no one just could read their notes from their travels. Though their other notebook was a mess of them writing in many languages trying to ask the same things over and over. This was because they didn't like evading others minds right off so they were more like a mute asking. Only a few had ever actually heard them speak or talk telepathic.\n\nDulcinea would be heading into the crooked fang inn, their cloak keeping them covered as they usually liked it that way. Letting others not see their face usually helped others not go judging them or calling them a monster. They really didn't like it when others called them a monster, sure they understood why but it didn't make it any easier to hear when they never been that way. \n\nWalking into the inn they would look around the room, looking for a good spot to sit and rest at for the moment. With it now being more morning there was no reason for them to sleep, they had been up all night so they should try resting but it was not a good thing as more people would be up now than at night. Heading back to the corner Curculio were he was at as they would start to dig into their bag for a moment. Stopping in front of his table as they starting flipping through pages of text, trying to find exactly what they were wanting before finding it and turning it to show him. It would ask \"If they could sit with him?\"" }, { "author": "Curculio Lajoie", "message": "Curculio pushed his empty plate forward, setting his slighty used napkin atop the dirty plate. He leaned back into his chair, a few creaks echoing out across the inn as Curculio readjusted himself. With his sword leaning on the side of his table and his helmet at the bottom of his feet, he simply leaned back and relaxed as he watched time pass.\n\nAs he was doing nothing but watching the world pass by, Dulcinea was noticed as she wandered inside the inn. Curculio noted the individuals cloak covering with an eyebrow raise of curiosity, trying to decipher what all the individual was here to do. \n\nCurculio wasn't a.. Racist person so to speak, and he didn't harbor a whole lot of ill will towards creatures, only having a deep hatred and occasional disgust for the dragons, drogons, and dragonborns. It might've been wrong to have the dragonborn, seeing as they had shunned their god, but everytime he saw someone with a hint of dragon in them he remembered his kingdom, and the hatred he felt when Leteron burned down.\n\nCurculio had no ill will towards tieflings as stated, their blood was red just like many others and it had a relatively sweet flavor to Curculio, something he quite enjoyed. Rather than a deeper and gritty flavor like someone like an orc would have, the tieflings had sweet and hearty flavor, with a small portion of spice to them. \n\nCurculio simply nodded to the individual, pushing the chair by Dulcinea out from under the table with his foot to try and show some respect to the creature. Curculio had picked up on some of the creature's, albeit briefly, but he had a sense of growing curiosity for the individual before him.*\n\n\"What brings you to Revanor?\"" } ]	430	1,248
408.666667	2024-05-22	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Dulcinea", "message": "Though Dulcinea was no dragon it was hard to tell what they were when only horns was the thing being seen. A spell they had learned to put on their cloak once which made anyone looking to see their face see nothing but shadows. Which wasn't fare off to what their face already was but it helped hide the face of the starry look and than the only white eyes and no mouth that most would scare over. There was a lot of stories that said that their mouths would open into a big scary teeth like mouth to kill others would was not true. But it was just old stories so they couldn't change them.\n\nAt seeing that the stranger didn't mind them joining at the table they would gladly sit down on the chiar that had been pushed out. Setting their small bag in their lap before checking to make sure their cloak still hide most of their body. Least with their black skin most took it as gloves and not actual skin. Though they would still check on hiding any of the rest of their skin.\n\nThey would look over at the stranger as they thought about their own answer and how much they even should reveal. It had been a long travel already and they didn't know if bring such a topic up would even work at this point with anyone. Though they would decide to try and start flipping through the book as they would try to find the response they wanted. Once finding it would show the pad to him to know why. Pointing to the words they wanted to say as to why they were their \"Exploring... Looking for teacher... Wants to learn magic... Finding new places... Going home than.\" \n\nIt was all small text and chopped with them only pointing out the words of why their were there. Though this was also because they just were tired of writing it all out all the time. Maybe because they had used some many notepads to do the same thing before to ask things over and over. So now it was just pointing them out to start and could grow into writing or telepathy." }, { "author": "Curculio Lajoie", "message": "The individual was a bundle of tricks, and after so many years, something new was welcomed in Curculio's eyes. A little over 1000 years of life meant Curculio had done many things, and seen many more, so something different was welcomed with a party of different emotions. \n\nCurculio watched and noted the individual just like he had done for everyone else in the establishment before, picking up on their peculiar hands, and the way they used a notepad for communication. Curculio wondered if the being was deaf, but he had met individuals before who preferred to speak with forms like telepathy. These beings normally had something to hide, or something to fear. But nevertheless, Curculio gave the individual the attention they had earned, reading off the notepad before him and quietly reciting the words as he read along.\n\n\"..A teacher? Hm.. I guess it is hard to start out these days, I guess it's a shame people have so many issues and such a short time to live.\"\n\nCurculio paused, staring at the shadow individual for a while. Curculio had done all sorts of things in his years, but taking on a sort of student was something he had yet to check off his list. As someone who could Actually* Brag about having all the time in the world, unlike the elves who only lived for a few hundred years, Curculio could blink and a few 100 years would pass.\n\nOr at least that's how it felt.\n\n\"Very well, if you want to learn Enchantment from me, I can teach you, or Biomancy if you feel so inclined. I've got far too much time with far too little to do.\"\n\nCurculio nodded, satisfied at his own judgement. Not only did he have all the time to teach her, he also had the skill to back it up. Besides from the occasional scheme or ploy, Curculio wandered through the continent to occupy himself, picking up swordsmanship and magical techniques from just about every corner in the world.\n\nIt made for quite the arsenal, even if he only specialized in 3 schools and a single sword." }, { "author": "Dulcinea", "message": "Dulcinea didn't know much about the world still outside of what they had read, though they were slowly starting to learn things. Sadly magic hasnt been one of those things no matter how hard they had tried to get a teacher along their travels. Maybe it was because they were shrouded in mystery or they didn't speak. They didn't know what the full reasons where but it just became a normal to know they wouldn't get one right out by asking.\n\nThey hadn't even planned on asking him to be a teacher yet he was now saying he could be? If they could look surprised they probably would have such an expression on their face as they didn't expect anyone to well volunteer to be a teacher. They knew they were very slow in learning any type of spell, not wanting him to get the wrong idea they would quickly try writing it all out though their common was bad.* \"Can't pay lot, very slow learner, can't say would be best student for wanting for magic. Would work hard though.\" \n\nThey hoped it would be enough to show that even if they couldn't learn quickly or pay a lot they would try their best if he did take them on. Though they didn't keep up much for a hope of him continuing to want them as a student, especially when he would have to than learn more about them and most didn't like a race that just had bad stories that went with them.\n\nMaybe it was a bad idea to even try being a student, especially when he just up and said he would teach them if they wanted to. Though learning enchantments sounded rather fun. They maybe could learn something helpful with that type of magic... Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea? They would tap their pen a bit on the pad as they thought a bit about what they might learn if he still wanted to teach them. Maybe non magic stuff as well? They did look like the type that could do that as well." }, { "author": "Curculio Lajoie", "message": "Curculio was a big well of knowledge, just waiting to be tapped into. He normally allowed a select few, a tradition he kept over his lifetime to retain secrecy and safety, but today he just felt like doing it. His nomadic lifestyle was entertaining for a while, but maybe it was time to slow down and give some of the knowledge he had collected. He was a library, and little Dulcinea was about to be a lucky reader.\n\n\"If I wanted your money, I wouldn't have gone for *You. No offense of course, but I'm sure there are bigger fish in the sea. As for how slow you learn, it's a little bit of a problem considering I have so much to give, so just take what you want at the pace you want, until your satisfied.\"\n\nDespite his rude remark, he still kept a sort of gentle tone in his speech. His word choice could probably be blamed on his life experiences, encountering many of people with far more valuables. Besides, Dulcinea didn't exactly scream rich. The entire town of Revanor was on the \"Modest\" End, so why would some rich noble be wandering around Looking For a teacher rather than Buying One?\n\nDulcineas worries would all be for naught, as Curculio had little thinking involved with his words at the moment. So many years of wandering and hoarding, it struck at his knightly code. No matter how tainted it was, values still remained, so he was willing to teach the one who peaked his interest.\n\n\"If everything's settled, we should depart for some woods or a clearing. I won't drink your blood or turn into a werewolf, but sometimes magic can get a bit messy, and I wouldn't want you to destroy such a peaceful town.\"\n\nLike much of Curculio's thought process, he was hopping from end to end. He outright assumed Dulcinea would be okay with leaving with him as she had been going out of her way for a teacher. He smiled a bit at his own words, looking down at the individual before him. He looked away after his smile faded, and picked up his sword and helmet." }, { "author": "Dulcinea", "message": "If Dulcinea could have showed emotion they probably would have been smiling happily at actually getting someone wanting to be a teacher even without knowing anything about them. They would write more in their pad as they tried to also collect their thoughts. A bit of a strange habit they had to write down everything they thought of. Though they would show some of it to Curculio* \n\n\"Not many would say that. They wanted money.\" They didn't notice anything of his rude remarks, in fact they didn't seem to care at all about how he was saying anything. They just were responding to what he was saying but not how. \"I will be slow but will try to do well. I like to learn many things.\"\n\nWith him saying they should leave so soon made them a bit curious why he wanted to start so soon. They probably would laugh at him thinking they would destroy anything with their magic skills, they would be lucky to destroy anything more than a window here. But they would nod in agreement, not seeing anything wrong with going right away to starting on learning. They didn't know much about any of those things to be concerned about and maybe they should be concerned but for now they weren't at all concerned just excited to try learning.\n\nDulcinea would get up and start putting their things back in their bag, they hadn't ordered anything to eat and wouldn't but for now it could be taken as they were just excited and not anything wrong. Getting a room would have to wait till later, they might actually sleep a few hours this time than being up the full night. Who knew what the night would bring when it came time. They would wait for him to start leading the way out to where they would go and work at." }, { "author": "Curculio Lajoie", "message": "Curculio nodded at whatever his student wrote, already bathing in the pride the pride that came with being a teacher. He secured his helmet on his head and then secured his longsword across his back, raising his arms and twisting his hips side to side to get in a good stretch before they departed.\n\nCurculio wasn't necessarily worried about Dulcinea breaking anything because they happened to be skilled, he was more worried because of how inexperienced she was. Enchantment magic to be specific had a lot of ties to the mental state of oneself, and Curculio had seen first hand what an inexperienced caster could do to themselves. Even a simple mind sliver could be very dangerous if one didn't practice the basics.\n\nBut Dulcinea would hopefully learn all this in due time, and Curculio was confident in both his Biomancy and Enchantment abilities should anything go wrong. He was proud to be a lunar sorcerer, and he'd be prouder once he taught Dulcinea some things.\n\n\"Well liking to learn is half the battle. Do you happen to have a name, we've had an entire conversation and you managed to become a student of mine all without me even knowing your name.\"\n\nCurculio said his last few words with a smile, and a clear sound of humor in his voice. It was a silly scenario in Curculios eyes, Dulcinea had become his student And* Was following him, mostly a stranger still, into the forest without care. Curculio wasn't sure whether to advise her to change her behavior and be more wary of people, or to start feeling suspicious of Dulcinea incase she was trying to rob him.\n\nNevertheless, Curculio simply kept his thoughts to himself, occasionally looking over his shoulder to check if the hooded figure was there. He headed straight for the nearby forest as agreed on, walking past all sorts of wheat fields and other people along the way.*" } ]	403.5	2,452
326.2	2024-06-02	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Dulcinea", "message": "Dulcinea was patient as they listened to what he had to say, taking in any knowledge was better than knowing nothing at all. And he was going to teach them enchantments? They kind of knew that a bit with their cloak? Least this was their thought on the matter that they could do such a thing. Maybe they just did this by accident.\n\nLooking down at their cloak they did wonder if this was the same type of magic while listening to him. Though when he started talking about mental spells they got more curious. Wasn't what they did the same thing? Sure it didn't cause pain or anything but they already could get into someone's mind. They would sit down as they let their hands be out from under their cloak, letting them rest on their bent knees. Maybe they could show some of their own learned spells?\n\nThey would wait till he was done before they tilted their head in thought. Maybe they could do this, they already could easily talk in others head by their native language. A far better result than their own writing which was bad. They would decide to write down a bit of a drawing of showing an arrow flying before showing him. They probably smile at their bad attempt at drawing before tapping her own head in wanting him to show her it. Than they would try it out themselves. They didn't worry that he would be reading their thoughts any or cause harm to them, least not intentionally if he did by chance. All in all they were excited to learn something as it had been months since even talking about magic with anyone. Showing a one more note to him as well. \"Use on me, just not a strong one than will try.\"" }, { "author": "Curculio Lajoie", "message": "He watched them, waiting for a response as they mulled over his teachings. He opened his mouth to interject that Enchantment, or more accurately a sort of \"Bewitchment\", was not quite like the Enchantment of items, but more like the Enchantment of the mind. As Curculio mulled it over, he started to pick up on how similar yet, how different the two subjects were. With mental Enchantment you could Enchantment objects to hold certain memories, and with the other kind of Enchantment you could do the same, leaving the \"Memories\" Of strengthening spells and whatnot. It was something to ponder, and Curculio silently wondered how he hadn't picked up on it in all his years.\n\nHe wasn't thinking on it for too long though, her request more or less slapping him across the face. He went through a few emotions in record pace, a few varying degrees of worry, curiosity, and whatever condescending look an expert would have on a subject to a complete beginner. He sputtered for a second, something completely unlike him. It shouldn't have been too big of a deal for literally anyone else in the world, but with such a refined ability in an area, even the simplest Encode Thoughts could be crystal clear and complex (something he felt the growing urge to teach Dulcinea one day).\n\n\"It kind of is like an arrow, yes, but, to use on you? It's not a friendly spell in nature, and while I'm more that willing to teach you, you have to be completely sure that your okay with dealing with whatever pain comes along.\"\n\nHe paused, letting them mull over their decision. In the silence, Curculio realized that an understanding of the spell, deeper than his brief explanation could probably help. Going over where it targeted, what it felt like upon contact, etc..\n\n\"If your sure you want to go on with this, you should at least know what to expect. While I can water the spell down immensely, your going to face a headache, like a thin needle passes through your head. I've heard of the headache being (1/2)\"\n\n\"Dull when it first hits, following by the pains, but I've also experienced firsthand the immediate sharp pain. Shortly after receiving the attack, your brains going to be very.. Muddled, I suppose. It's going to be a very disorienting experience, like you've been shaken repeatedly, and I suggest closing your eyes tight, I'm going to do what I can to lessen it, but you should still close your eyes and brace nevertheless.\"" }, { "author": "Dulcinea", "message": "Dulcinea would tilt her head at him being a bit caught off guard with what she was had asked, she thought it was a good question to ask with learning what he had explained. Maybe it wasn't such a good thing to ask? They really didn't know if it was or not since they didn't have a normal teacher before and having one now is different. \n\nDrawing a few more arrows on the note before they would show it, they had also showed a shield being up. Trying to say they could try blocking it, though they didn't know if they actually could block it or not. They were used to not bring taught, having no one want to get to know or help them move on... They didn't know all of it was very confusing to do.\n\nThough they would nod as they wanted him to show them how it was, to feel it could help them learn they thought. It also could be the wrong thing to do, but they would close their eyes as they tried to be ready for it.\n\nThough would quickly open their eyes ans covered their face more as they made sure all of it was fine and secure. They still wanted to keep face hidden. Holding onto their knees as they got ready for the pain as they closed their eyes." }, { "author": "Curculio Lajoie", "message": "\"If you believe you can try to block it out, then try to your best ability, this could be a good learning experience after all. Showing you how to counter Enchantment magic and what it can do.\"\n\nCurculio nodded at his own judgement, quietly watching Dulcinea as the pulled up a few pictures and displayed them to him. Once put away her note pad and settled into the suggested position, he took a deep breath, readying the spell.\n\nWhat shouldn't have taken a lot of concentration did, as he focused on dilating the spell. He wanted to make sure not to hurt his student, or scar them into never wanting to learn Enchantment magic. He took a little while longer than probably needed to make sure everything would be okay, more or less adding into the already tense atmosphere.\n\nWith a few mumbles so they heard him, he sent out his spell toward Dulcinea. Whether or not it would be immediate would be based on Dulcinea themselves. With Curculio's care to dull the spell, it kind of felt like only getting around 50 minutes of sleep, only to be then shaken away with a light in your eyes.\n\nAfter the spell was done Curculio quietly watched them for a bit, his own curiosity stepping in front of his judgement for a moment as he waited in anticipation to see if they could dull it further. Should they start to freak in any way, he was ready though." }, { "author": "Dulcinea", "message": "Dulcinea didn't know if they could do it, if they could make a shield but they were willing to try. Just wanting to try was kind of exciting, they of course didn't think they could really do it. \n\nBeing ready for it was the main thing though in the moment. Though they were not as ready as they thought when the pain came, it hurt more than they even cared to admit but some of it was because of the lack of sleep. They were quick to hold their head as they hissed a bit with the pain. It sure was nothing that was a pain pain but was enough to still make them uncomfortable.\n\nWith the time passing though they would say just words in their language, which sounded like many saying them at once, a strange echo was their way of speaking. With the time passing though they would start to recover as they tapped on their leg a bit, feeling a bit better now as time passed. They would blink a bit as they finally started to open their eyes to look at him.*" } ]	293	1,631
359.666667	2023-09-20	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Duchess Vierna Argith", "message": "Intimacy, a notion that Vierna rarely hid from. The Doctor had earned her trust, earned her presence. Other Matrons, she knew, likely would've treated Henryk like a simple Pet. The Young Argith, however, had found value in the words of an Outsider. A heretical thought to some, for the gates to Lazaroth often remained isolated. The clear view of this Ancient sight seemed ever more clear as the Escort mustered their way up the foundation of Syvatheran Hills. The Dead Man's Tree had loomed above the sights of the City like a watchful Elder - Idle and helpless to the whims of those who came before the Young Duchess.\n\nHenryk's flustering thoughts were an expectation, the Duchess soon enough managing a curious stare over to the Advisor, Ignorant of their current travel. A strange thought to leave those trusted in the Dark, but it would not be an Argith without that air of Mystery. Her expression in response to Henryk's stares flared uncertainty. That clever Sapphire gaze watched Henryk's own before making quiet inspection of his tailored suit. Even with the styles of Lazaroth, she could still see that Findaran within him. Even the study of Drowish, or the refinement by Lazarothian cuisine, there was that side of him that she dearly wished to remain.\n\nThe faintest of smiles escaped her before her gaze returned to the showing of that Ancient Landscape. Darkened lips parted momentarily, a quiet ponder before she allowed her words to spill. Her accent, carrying the hues of Transylvanian subtlety. \n\n\"I was only a girl when I first set sight on such a wonder. A tree that has outlived generations. - Its very symbol binds my House and its Crest.\" Quietly she'd elude to the Badge on Henryk, of the House Argith. The symbol darted in a darkish purple, the imagery of that mighty tree. \"It is almost a normal sight, now. For Syvatherans. Even the _bodies._\" Her final word seemed a spark different, unravelling quieter thoughts as she peered back to Henryk." }, { "author": "Henryk", "message": "Henryk listened, and he listened closely to what she had to share. He gave her a nod, before looking back to the sight of the tree again, still collecting his thoughts on it. He thought about its cultural significance— what it represented. It was a sign of fear, a warning to those who entered Syvathere. If Vierna wanted to perpetuate this, then she would not have to do anything but allow the tree to remain as is. But, Henryk knew Vierna wanted to be a different sort of Duchess.\n\nHe would finally speak, while looking at the tree— more specifically the bodies which littered the place. \n\n\"It's a health hazard.\" He would finally say— yes, through all the macabre thoughts of beauty in death, these were the words he'd share. Ones of a practical gentleman. He wasn't an artist, nor a philosopher, he was a _Doctor_ first and foremost. He had used his clinical eye to dissect what this tree could do. _Yes,_ Henryk thought there was a sadistic intrigue to it, but, the thought that sat at the forefront of his mind was the decadence which surrounded that tree. The bodies could be carriers of plague— the stench itself likely would make anyone who got near it become sick. Cadavers were known to be ample hosts for disease.\n\nHe'd look over to Vierna once more. \"If I may ask, what's the purpose of this trip, Vierna?\" The Doctor now asked, unfolding his arms. A hand now rested on a knee, while the other would be placed on the top of the carriage's seat. The temptation to pull his pipe out and smoke lingered, but he knew it'd be rude to smoke in a small space like this, in front of his employer." }, { "author": "Duchess Vierna Argith", "message": "The simplicity of his answer wouldn't go over her head. The calculated, logical reasoning of this Doctor she had been fortunate enough to enjoy company with. At first it seemed to amuse her, attention taken with a swift gaze to her Advisor and a heightened smile to accompany it. \n\n\"I.. Should have expected that from you.\" Vierna replied quickly, a ponder distracted with her gaze before returning to the view of the Tree. Henryk was right, afterall. Often times the spread of disease would be ignored in favour of a show, and this one ever so vulgar. The Duchess would go quiet in that moment, allowing Henryk's question to temper itself among the pace of their carriage ride. It was a fair question, but one she wouldn't entertain with a simple answer just yet.\n\n\".. I wished to show you a place, famed in Syvathere. One that those before me deemed a fitting sight for local and outsider alike.\" It would seem the carriage ride was nearing its destination, the slight bumps of hillish landscape present as the convoy made its way through its final obstacles. \"I know of the local viewpoint. Tell me of the Outsider. Advise me, Henryk.\"" } ]	378	1,079
409.25	2023-09-24	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Duchess Vierna Argith", "message": "Barbaric. The very word clung to her thoughts. That did not deserve to represent Lazaroth, she pondered. It did not deserve to represent her, as Henryk so boldly claimed. There was more to the Tale of the Ancient Syvatheran Tree than its victims so proudly shown. The Duchess wished to preserve the image of its long-lasting legacy, rather than the bodies buried to get there.\n\nHenryk's words would catch a curious gaze from Vierna, a stare that seemed intent to try and pluck away any dishonesty in the Doctor's answer. It was lucky that such words fell so simply, hardly a fault in her Advisor's tone that seemed to deepen what was rarely ever found in the tides of Lazarothi Nobility. - Trust. Henryk was no Noble, after all. She found him as a struggling Findaran Doctor with a dream. An outsider, prepared to face the risk of Lazaroth's dangers. That too, trusting the Drow Noble that accelerated him on this path.\n.\n\nThere would no blatant acceptance of his words. No response would come for that, but it seemed clear she found no fault as her stares locked with his. Before words would spill, the carriage would come to a halt as they reached the very foundation of the Ancient Tree - Its presence looming over the convoy like an agitated elder. The faintest of smiles spilled on her expression at the _convenience_ of its timing, her reply remaining a mystery as the doors to the carriage soon opened up by the guidance of a loyal soldier. \"Come.\" The Duchess would simply offer to Henryk, their path clear.\n\nOut she would step, fur draped around her shoulders as her gown fortunately avoided the potential mess of mud and the like. It wouldn't take long until her stares flickered to the presence of the Great Tree. It held a regal nature to it, one inflicted by the crimes of the Nobility that hung these corpses so freely. It befitted the savages of Dazvas, not Lazaroth. A thought that seemed key in her mind. Eventually she would stop at a certain pace, awaiting Henryk to be at her side as the motions of the other carriage made their way. Very soon a group of 4 would dismount from the other carriage, draped in robes and all women. Druids, and all who offered a bow of their head to Vierna before moving in place near the Dead Man's Tree." }, { "author": "Henryk", "message": "Stepping outside,\n\nHenryk looked at this tree— it's scaling up close felt almost colossal. The dark, oppressive atmosphere here felt stronger now that he was up close, seeing the various cadavers hang freely. The Doctor felt multiple alarms go off in his head, as his hand reached for his medical satchel. He didn't want to _breathe_ this air, the amount of airborne diseases that loomed were probably numerable. These druids— they must've conditioned themselves to prevent sickness. Unfortunately he doesn't have the luxury to adapt so quick.\n\nHe would pull out his black leathered gloves— the gloves he used to touch potentially viral subjects and objects. Then, he'd also pull out cloth— cloth he would use to wrap over his nose and face _tightly_ as a safety measure to prevent himself from falling ill.\n\nSliding his gloves on, he felt a little more comfortable now, but, he would look to Vierna with an air of concern. Henryk would take out another piece of cloth, extending it out to her as they walked.\n\n\". . . I don't want you falling ill.\" He would rationalize to her. \"Rotting cadavers are known to carry diseases. I wouldn't want you to fall victim to any pestilence.\" Henryk further explained to her.\n\nHis concern he showed wasn't the usual doctor-patient sort. He was showing concern for someone he felt a bond with. That he _cared_ for. Even to Henryk, this was an unusual display, why did he act this way? He wanted to rationalize that it was because she was his main benefactor— that without her, his dreams wouldn't be on track. Yet, there was something more. Something... No, it was too frightening to think about.\n\nHe continued to pace by her— he didn't want her to fall ill. If she did, he knew he'd likely have to come back here to collect flesh and blood from these rotting criminals to engineer a remedy." }, { "author": "Duchess Vierna Argith", "message": "The Duchess had been far too entranced by the sight of Majestic Dread to witness Henryk's urgent move to glove up. It would be his words and the sight of her beside him that knocked her out of it, stare looming over the offered cloth and Henryk's already garbed face. The words he offered brought her to a halt. Logical, indeed, yet it was true that the way he offered it seemed far more personal. For a moment she would lose her mind of the situation, riddled with considerations as she watched the Doctor calmly as ever. Composure, fractured until her hand eventually took that cloth with an acknowledging smile.\n\n\"You're.. Right, Doctor Henryk. Thank you.\" She considered simply calling him Henryk, but that composure seemed to snap her back to business. Gazing at the tree once more, she would move to adorn herself with this cloth. Her words, likely far more muffled but with less risk of disease.\n\nReturning to the matter at hand, she would offer a beckon with her hand to the looming Druids. They seemed to have been awaiting a signal, the exact one likely answered as they began their motions and closened to the majestic sight. A channeling would start to begin, the mysterious hyms of the Senior Druid fluttered in the ears with a peculiar calming. Their target, being the Great Tree.\n\n\"You were right. With.. Your words. This does not represent me. This Tree should not bring fear of punishment, but a reminder of this Cities lasting legacy. I have tasked these Druids with the tending of such a magnificent sight. The bodies, to be removed. Corruptions, to be dealt with. With time, perhaps this place can be favoured as a Grove.\" Vierna finally reasoned to Henryk, her attention turning simply to the Half Human. \"..I value your input, Henryk. Doctor Henryk.\" A small correction that seemed to tell a larger story, Vierna smiled from beneath her mask then returned to watch the work of the Druids." }, { "author": "Henryk", "message": "Henryk listened and watched, seeing the Druids signed off to begin channeling their magics. It seems that Vierna was already debating what to do with the tree. It was his input that made her decide that this place should be cleaned of its taint.\n\nWhen she said she valued his input, he would shake his head slightly, before looking to watch the druids in their ritual.* \"Vierna... I'm your advisor, no? It's my job to provide input when you need it.\" He would say, placing his gloved hands behind his back. He spoke to her in a quieter voice, as to not let anyone hear him address her as simply _Vierna._\n\nBeneath his clothed mask, his lips would stretch into a small smile. Something about being addressed simply as _Henryk_ made this conversation feel... Personal. Especially in public, near people who'd potentially see the formalities between the pair slip. It was scandalous in a way.\n\nThe Doctor then cleared his throat, before speaking. \"I'll trust the druids to dispose of the bodies— It's their grounds, their business.\" He'd rationalize, mostly to himself. \"...Speaking of business, I don't imagine simply visiting the tree is all that today entails, does it?\"" } ]	426.5	1,637
469.142857	2023-10-06	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Henryk", "message": "There was a moment of hesitation, but, then he sat next to Vierna. The space between the two was closed— he was literally a breath away from the duchess. His emotions stirred, something primal inside of him wanted to be close to the woman. The occasion touching of forms due to the rocking of the carriage had their effects— a man so touch starved that being this close to a woman could accidentally send him off the edge. He kept himself in check. He felt... Flustered. Yes, flustered. Upon his pale face was the slight rose of blush upon his cheeks.\n\n\". . . My apologies again, Lady Vierna.\" He would say again. The normally confident Doctor seemed awfully subdued in this moment. Yes, Vierna could tell. He was anxious. He didn't want to lose this job— he didn't want to sully the Duchess's good name. He knew what the Lazarothi culture was like. A matriarchal one. Though despite that, he still had his pride as a man. He wasn't from here, no. \"I do not mean to disrespect our boundaries.\" He would finally add, making his mind known to her. He simply did not want to disrespect the Duchess. He was from a lower class, after all. She was a noble, he was... _Just_ a doctor. A doctor with the blood of a fiend that was boiling. Screaming.\n\nHe looked at his hands. He didn't want to look at Vierna, as he wanted to keep his Concubus urges controlled. But with how close they were... It was hard. _Very_ hard.\n\nHe could feel sweat tickle down the side of his forehead. He swallowed his saliva. He wasn't afraid of Vierna. He was afraid _for_ her." }, { "author": "Duchess Vierna Argith", "message": "It was truly hard to decipher just what struggles manifested internally within her Foreign Advisor. Her Doctor, now forced in a place he likely never wished to tread so early on in the Lazarothian venture. Perhaps then, this little escapade could be considered a subtle cruelty. The Duchess would not make his condition easy for him, it seemed. Partly ignorance, but above all that adventurous nature that seemed quick to dig in and tease. Henryk, the poor soul, oh how Vierna caught quick the anxious nature of a Man so close to her Employer. In Lazaroth it would be a great privilege, but for a starved concubi simply the dangling of wants rarely ever gorged upon.\n\nThe occasional bumps of the road would not help. The subtle scents of Lazarothian perfume that adorned her very person another in the way of Concubi composure. Then, that ever so daring glance of a sapphire blue looming over the struggling Doctor. Vierna would sight the reddening of formerly pale cheeks, the eye contact now distant and focused in shyness. Another shade of a Doctor she had not yet fully deciphered. Of a Man with many quirks that brought both quality and mystery. Disrespect was the word that clung to Vierna's thoughts. Boundaries, another. Henryk feared what he may unleash, but to the Duchess she valued to see him most of all. There was a hope to try and reassure him, but in thought would it not encourage a side that Henryk dearly desired to be left forgotten? A complexity, clear.\n.\n\n\"..I see how you stir, Henryk. Unlike you, truly.\" - The Duchess probed in curiosity. A soft judgement played from her lips, a tune all the more familiar with that prior allure. There was almost a want to prod, to understand this new shade like the unravelling of a mysterious plot. However dangerous, there seemed trust in all the time she had known this Half Human.\n\n\"I wish for you to grow used to my presence, however close it must be. There should be no boundary between one that I trust with my life and wellbeing.\" - Vierna seemed to reason, hidden thoughts seeming to creep yet remaining in the dark. The Duchess seemed keen on earning a stare from the Doctor, once more." }, { "author": "Henryk", "message": "\"Vierna...\" He'd utter under his breath, head slowly to look at her, meeting eye-to-eye with her. The gentle licks of perfume tickled against his nose. That stare was ever-so close. His heart pounded— it was getting harder to keep it contained. The sleeping beast stirring awake, it felt like his chest cavity would rip open. He's curse him bloodline— had he not been born a Half-Human, one without the blood of a Concubus, he perhaps could be normally. But no, he was simply _fucked up_ in the head. His blood was on fire, his nerves agitated being this close to the woman he seemed to have bonded with. Her sapphire pierced into him, they tore him apart from the inside.\n\nThe Doctor's hands clasped over one another tightly. Nails digging into his skin as he held tightly. He was a Doctor— a mere doctor. Nothing more. He couldn't— he shouldn't...\n\nHe would maintain this eye contact with her. His eyes had been tense— he was indeed struggling. \"...I— I shouldn't get too close...\" He would simply say. \"...I— I have a condition, you see.\" He would tell her, looking away in shame.\n\nHenryk looked to the ground, upon his footwear. \"You see... My Concubus blood— It makes me act... Irrationally. My master... He and I parted ways because I had romanced his daughter.\" He would briefly explain. \"Because of this, we... We had a falling out. It's why I joined the military, Vierna. Because I betrayed my master— that I was forbidden to see his daughter. Then— Then while I was gone...\" He'd pause, before shaking his head. \"—It doesn't matter.\n\nHe'd look to her again.\n\n\"...Vierna, this... This is _dangerous._ To be close... We would be inviting the Gods to curse us with misfortune. Duuna's shadow follows me— I...\" He'd now purse his lips. He wasn't sure what else to say. He poured out all these emotions— he hadn't realized by revealing this, he was letting Vierna deeper in. Destroying those boundaries even further." }, { "author": "Duchess Vierna Argith", "message": "That reply of a struggling stare seemed to say it all. Not a word uttered until the desperate beckoning of her name as Henryk began to reason with his comfortable employer. The driven and collected man she knew had a confession to make. A condition, one word that caused a slight puzzled expression from the Duchess that maintained her eye contact despite the situation. There would be almost concern, a sprinkling of worry before Henryk reasoned with her.\n\nThen it came, that tale of Henryk's life rarely spilled to those around him. Another view of the Clinic she knew him from, a part of the puzzle that intrigued her ever more. Concubi blood, now she had known of that before when they discussed topics at the Clinic in Findara. The forbidden romance was a far more unique tale, however. It would end without resolution, spurred on by Henryk's own reluctance. Throughout every word, Vierna seemed intent to listen despite her own inner thoughts on the very matter.\n\nThe Drow would be caught in a flurry of silence, looking over the shameful Doctor. Danger, he claimed. It was he who'd be a danger to her. Affection of a Concubi, an uncontrollable urge he found as a Curse from Duuna herself. But how could such a monster, as he claimed, provide such trust and care? The offering of a mask, the discussion and treatment within that clinic - just what was she to do with this information? Clearly, she pondered on it. Henryk wished to avoid the supposed horrors of his past, but Vierna struggled to see herself as this possible victim. That, she couldn't see in Henryk.\n\n\"...Did you love her? Your Master's Daughter..? Did she love you..?\" - Emerging from the silence, the quick question would be raised. Curiousity, amid her pondering. A thought that seemed important to her. Perhaps she imagined him to drag himself through the dirt as if he were some monster, but there was a want for honesty. An Enchanter like her tended to see the truth in words far more clearly." }, { "author": "Henryk", "message": "When she pondered her question, he would give her a silent nod, before speaking. \"Yes. Yes, I loved her, and she loved me.\" He would speak. \"...I— I apologize, Vierna. This isn't a topic I wish to discuss further. They're both gone now. Something even a _Master Biomancer_ couldn't prevent...\" He'd say the last part with spite behind his words.\n\nHenryk rose his head. It didn't require Enchantment to make him speak the truth. That was it. He loved that woman— now she was gone. Something killed her, something Biomancy couldn't prevent.\n\n\"I've starved myself of my Concubus desires for so long. It's why my skin is pale, why I appear as so.\" He would say, looking upon his slender fingers, before curling them into a fist. \"I don't want to let these irrational thoughts rule me— I don't desire to be like my mother and father.\" He would then add. His eyes would widen a bit— he didn't want to say that. Something that was never meant to be heard. He quickly jerked his head to the side, in order to hide his facial expression.\n\n\"...Forget about what I've said— it's... It's unimportant.\" He would say in a voice of resignation. \"I don't want you to concern yourself with my struggles, my Lady. You have bigger matters to worry about— the noble courts, the queen, what happened at the docks... I'm simply your Doctor. I can treat these symptoms.\" He'd attempt to say in a colder, clinical tone of voice, but there was an obvious strain.\n\n\"I don't feel this way around other women, Vierna. You've left an impression upon me— but I don't desire to manifest that into something _worse._ Something dangerous. I respect you deeply. When I said you had the qualities of a queen, I truly meant it.\" He'd shift his head slightly so she could see the side of his face, eyes looking to her again. \"...I'm... Afraid of _me,_ Vierna. My fear... Is _me.\"_\n\nHe would sit there in silence now." }, { "author": "Duchess Vierna Argith", "message": "The truth of love seemed plainly evident by Henryk's tone. It was not the desperation of an abuser, to hide a horrible truth. - Instead, the blatant acknowledgement of his condition as something monstrous. If there was love between the pair, Vierna had considered whether his Concubi affections were truly as abhorrent and irrational as claimed. But with the topic she would nod in acknowledgement of ceasing the subject. The thought fizzled away as Henryk's words drove her to inspect the pale man that he was. It was his reluctance that led him to this sickly state, self flagellation over a past that made all the more sense as the spill of truths continued to be unveiled much to the surprise of even Henryk himself.\n\nHenryk's reasoning itself felt emotional, almost the only time she had ever witnessed it. Another, she remembered at the Clinic some time ago. There a desperate Doctor struggled for solutions, puzzled with a wounded child that he seeked to save. It was that same man who persevered in that situation, and there Vierna was to help alongside. The She-Elf would let him air his worries, finish his words. A strict Matron likely would have shut up the ramblings of this emotional man, but she saw it far differently. She hated seeing him so fragile, but didn't amuse the idea of letting him keep it bottled up.\n\n\"You feel that.. Indulging in that side of you is a betrayal of this code, this.. Act of rebellion against the sins of your Father and Mother? You must see that it's unhealthy for you, Henryk.\" - Vierna reasoned with a passing glance at Henryk's features again, the pale tones and skinny nature of the Man.\n.\n\nVierna wanted to scoff at Henryk's next words, the talk of greater politics a strange remark at a time like this. She felt that Henryk was terrified of exchanging personal tales like this, showing his weaknesses to those he felt something for. She hated seeing him try and pull back, enough for the Dark Elf to want to shush him in return. \n\n\"Enough.\" - Vierna would offer simply, dismissing his notions of real concerns. Instead, what would be focused on were the final lines. The fear, the truth. The worry of his own person and what he might do. She could see the reality within that sidelong glance of his, staring daggers back at her. Vierna, for a moment, struggled for words. She had faced cold faced Drow before, Nobles pursuing their own interests but not a Man that felt ever so defeated in his moment of weakness.\n\n\"You've already offered so much to me, Henryk. Your trust, most of all. Will you let me atleast try and help you?\" - Vierna eventually mustered, eyes focused upon Henryk. Meanwhile, the soft left hand of the Duchess would be offered to take, a gesture she rarely offered." }, { "author": "Henryk", "message": "The Doctor's stomach sank when she made the simple offer to _attempt_ to help him. He contemplated it— she pointed out his gaunt features. This seemingly faint, thinned out state he was in now made clear was due to him holding his Concubi locked tightly. He pondered what she would do, but, he would soon remember the words of reassurance she gave him with the powers of Enchantment. He wondered if that'd be enough to sate the hunger that stirs within his stomach— the fill the void that existed within his heart.\n\n\"...Please... Treat my symptoms.\" He would simply ask in a pathetic voice. One which was reluctant. He opened his heart wide, and now it was time for the Drow to tangle him within her web. It was only inevitable, and he would resign himself to such a fate. \n\nHe let his trust for his peer take reigns. She wanted his trust, now was the time to show him what she intends to do with it. Would she tear him down, or build him back up? Would she utilize her magics to quell his burning blood, or would she attempt something else? What will she do to him?\n\nHe twisted his torso to completely face her. His pale blue eyes too meet her own. The carriage jostled a bit, as they moved further away from the Dead Man's Tree— a place of savagery now being healed by Vierna's rule. Now, Vierna will attempt to heal the darkness that laid in Henryk's heart.\n\nHe placed both his hands onto the top of his thighs. He'd clutch his slacks, fingers digging into them. He would maintain a stare— the windows to his soul open. He was a scared man, but he was a gentleman who could show so much bravery and confidence. He wasn't like the Lazarothi men. No, he was something else.\n\nHe was simply Dr. Henryk. \n\nHe waited patiently now, and would accept what was to come." } ]	474	3,284
533.666667	2024-02-18	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Oryra Felanna", "message": "Oryra had finally made her way to somewhere safe, least she hoped so as she made her way to the shrine. As far as she knew the place was a sacrifice spot. For her though this was a place she would use to keep away from the slavers and guards she had escaped from. She'd spent a year in prison hoping for the sisterhood to get her out, the one she'd trusted the most had always said they would be there for her. Though the moment she messed up they had abandoned her just like her parents before. Had it all been a waste? To believe in someone was really on her side like that? To have trained and done everything she'd been told to do?\n\nOryra signed as they scoped out thr shrine. Sure she didn't believe in the gods but a lot seemed to. At one point she believed in them as well, though with how much she'd been abandoned by others there couldn't be any gods. They were all just myths to make children obey their parents was all they were. Stories to strike fear or hope into someone. Though the moment you really needed one, well you found out they didn't exist and was all just stories. This is at least what Oryra believed. Because if they really did exist. They did it... They were cruel beings that enjoyed the sufferings of the people they made.\n\nOryra would flinch slight, being startled by the blood dripping down their temple. One of the guards had gotten a good swing in with the hilt of their sword to her head. It had almost made her black out, but not quite. She had too much adrenaline going through her veins at the moment, too much to lose, and not enough time. She knew she probably looked bad. Probably had a lot of deep wounds and gashes but it didn't matter at the moment since she needed to make sure the area was safe first." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "It had been a surprisingly quiet day, all things considered. Since their arrival in Lazaroth, the Doctor had mostly just been busy with treating patients with various ailments, which included some checkups with the former slave known now as Ashby. Frankly, watching his condition improve was the highlight of their day, but they didn't have the time nor energy to talk to him very much - and apparently, he was busy occasionally as well, and so was Henryk, and anyone else they might've wanted to spend the day with.\n\nToday was one of those rare days that the Doctor didn't have a lot to do, and so they decided to spend the time exploring their surroundings for once. Though they'd been living here for a week or so, they hadn't yet had time to visit the nearby area, see if there was anything interesting there that they should keep in mind. Today seemed as good a day as any.\n\nThe walk here had been... Unremarkable. As always when they headed outside, the Doctor was wrapped up in that warm coat Brakteon had given them, holding it tightly around themself. It didn't make them warm, necessarily, but it made the cold survivable enough, and the exercise of walking was helping a little, though there was still the problem that their body was unable to retain any heat on its own.\n\nWith every step, they cursed the fact that they'd let it get so bad. This feeling was awful. The cold, the exhaustion, the weakness, it didn't use to be that way. But now, it was, and it seemed nigh impossible to change it.\n\nA sigh escaped them. Best not focus on that, and instead try to get something warm to drink somewhere in town, maybe a bite to eat if they felt up for it - but most importantly, a warm location to stay away from the cold for a little while. This truly was unbearable, and once again, the Doctor silently cursed whoever had decided to settle here once upon a time.\n_ _\n\nOf course that wasn't happening. As soon as they got close enough, the Doctor could feel it. That faint tug at the edge of their mind, telling them that someone nearby was injured. Of Course.\n\nAny normal person might have ignored it, continued on with their day as if it wasn't happening, but they just couldn't. The Doctor inhaled a deep breath, turned in the direction where they sensed it, and started jogging there, ignoring the few confused looks they got from others. Where was it? They were so glad that they had that sixth sense of theirs that was leading the way, otherwise they never would have found it - even if they almost ran into a few poles along the way.\n\nSoon enough, they arrived at what seemed to be a shrine of some kind, and there, the injured person. The Doctor approached quickly, hands held out, gaze focused solely on the injuries. \"I am a doctor, you are hurt,\" They announced, voice clear and without its usual tiredness in it. \"Please, let me aid you.\" Hopefully this person wasn't going to make this any more difficult than it had to be. This could just be a quick heal, and then they could go and find the warmth their body so desperately required.\n\nAt least they didn't look very much like a threat. Pale, skinny, short for their species, and with permanent bags under their eyes, it was hard to believe that they could cause anyone any harm. But, it was still very possible to see them as threatening - after all, they were a stranger, and appearances could be deceiving. Plus, with mages running around that could cast spells on a whim... There was no telling what this white-haired 'doctor' may try to do, should the stranger choose to let them approach." }, { "author": "Oryra Felanna", "message": "Oryra had been almost finished checking the area, it took a little longer than she had wanted since the adrenaline had worn off a while ago and she was now feeling her wounds. A lot of them had been bleeding for some time which wasn't a good thing. If she passed out now she would probably freeze to death from the cold weather. She's sure been in a lot of cold weather the last year but it didn't mean she could survive it if she passed out. \n\nOryra wouldn't be keeping track to what all was going around her. This being why she's not heard the doctor get close. It was a bad sign when she didn't even hear someone not being quite getting close to her. At hearing them she would go into defense, using her weapon. Using multiple needles quickly, she would make an invisible barrier of sharp threads in front of the doctor. If they so much as stepped forward too close they would be instantly cut. She didn't plan to kill anyone else but if they became a threat all she would need to do was pull the threads tight.\n\nShe wouldn't trust them just because they looked weak and tired. She didn't trust anyone at the moment as she held a handful of threads. Though using as many threads as she did also was causing her to become weaker herself. It was probably not a smart move but one she did anyways. She would glare at the doctor as they could tell her breathing was labored, her temple had blood flowing down it from a 3 inch gash. Her side, left forearm, and right leg seemed to also be injured. Whatever had happened to her seemed to have been a fight. Though as to what she was doing to cause such a state was unclear. The guarded look though told that she didn't trust anyone. Doctor Jones would either have to prove to her they weren't going to cause any harm or wait till she passed out. Which the latter was probably the easiest as she was in rough shape. \"Don't take a step closer... I won't hesitate to kill you. You can say you what you want but anyone can say one and be another.\"" } ]	435	1,601
464.2	2024-02-19	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Something had happened, but they weren't quite sure what. The stranger's hands moved as if to create a barrier of some kind, and yet... It seemed like there was nothing there. Another sigh escaped them. Should they approach anyway, and hope that it was just an idle threat? Or risk getting hurt, or even worse?\n\nSure, waiting until she passed out was an option, but the healing took enough energy out of both of them, and they didn't want to have to deal with dragging this person to a warmer location while waiting for her to wake up. No, it seemed that they had to assume this person was bluffing, and nothing would happen.\n\n\"I just want to help,\" They reiterated, taking a step closer, hands still held out. Almost there... Then they could prove their healing capabilities without too much effort. \"You've already lost a lot of blood, and you really can't afford to lose much more, especially in-\" They were cut off suddenly. A sharp pain in the palm of their right hand, and Doctor Jones was quick to take a step back. Of course they guessed wrong.\n\nThey examined the injury quietly for a moment, watching the blood drip down. There was something so beautiful about it... Morbid, but so very beautiful. Their lifeblood, flowing as freely as water, free from its containment, as if it wanted to be there, not constrained to inside their body. They were utterly transfixed, remaining quiet for several moments just to stare.\n\nSnap out of it, Naevys.\n_ _\n\nFlinching slightly as if having heard a voice whisper in their ear, the Doctor looked up, looked around, then back down at their hand. Right, they had to fix that. Gently, they placed their left hand over it, fingers slowly moving over the line of the cut, and when they pulled their hand away, it was gone, looking like the injury had never been there to begin with. The Doctor held out their hand to the stranger, hoping this would serve as proof that they knew what they were doing. \"There. See? It's all gone. I can do the same for you, if you'll let me.\"" }, { "author": "Oryra Felanna", "message": "Oryra stepped back a bit when the doctor would try to come forward. They were still a stranger to her that she couldn't trust. She knew the threads were still there to stop them if they got too close. Though to the normal eye someone couldn't see the threads, but to Oryra she could always see them. She knee which kind she had used just by the glimmer or dull look to it. It was an interesting weapon that she had to steal back before coming here. It had taken a lot of trading with a guard to get into the weapons room to get it back. To a normal person it seemed like just a needle and loom. That was till mana was put into it than it became a weapon and it was one only she could use.\n\nThough she had warned them to not come closer they did, it was no surprise that they were cut. Though to see them almost transfixed on their blood flowing was strange. Were they more sick than they already looked? Or was there some other reason they were transfixed on their blood? Oryra didn't have time to worry about that though, she was getting weaker and this one seemed a few rocks short of a full bucket.\n\nOryra would look around for a way to run, could she even made a run for it in her condition? She doubted it really, though she wasn't going back. She wouldn't be no slave to some self centered high rank. That wasn't the next step she would take. No, she either wanted a calm life or revenge. She didn't know which yet, both sounded good. Especially the revenge and driving a sword through the one sisters cold heart. \n\nSuch thoughts would have to wait though as Oryra would teeter a bit, having to put weight on the shrine so as not to fall over. She would look up at the stranger as it seemed they had snapped out of their daze. Seeing the cut gone was new. How was that possible? Oryra had never seen magic like that before. Could she even trust them? Just because they said could help didn't mean it wouldn't turn into owing them something after.\n\nShe knew plenty of people who would do just that. Say it's free and only are wanting to help, than your dragged into being some servant or whatever. She'd spent the last how many years doing just that. Thinking she had something and only to be used than thrown away. No, she wouldn't do that again or be tricked by someone's kind words. \"Why should I? Why should I let you anywhere near me, huh? For all I know you come close saying you will help only to stab me in the back. I will not be used again. No, I don't trust you or anyone else. I can't and I won't.\"\n\nOryra was being more stubborn than probably needed but she felt like life hadn't exactly been kind to her. Least not to her view had it been. Though her consciousness was also fading and will it so was her hold on the threads. She would loosen her hand holding the threads as they would vanish, her relying heavily on the shrine being a support. Caving in enough she would look at them and glare. She didn't want help but if she didn't take it she wouldn't be any good unconscious. \"You do anything else but... That... Whatever that was and I will kill you... Got it? You already got a taste of what I can do.\" Oryra though was more giving a bluff as she had no energy to produce anymore threads, only the needle was deadly at this point." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Distrust wasn't exactly unusual to see, they were still a stranger, after all, but the amount of it... It spoke of some bad experiences in the past, though as to what those could be, the Doctor could only guess. A betrayal of some kind, they had to assume. Perhaps she would enlighten them with specifics, perhaps not - either way, it didn't matter, they had to get this healing done quickly, and then hopefully get back to what they were doing.\n\nThere was one thing that they couldn't get out of their mind, though - what had cut them? Some kind of bladework, too fast for them to see? With a regular person, that seemed likely, but with this one, her weakened state did not seem conducive to a speedy assassin. No, this had to be something else. Some kind of magic? It did feel like they'd walked into something sharp, though... What was it? The Doctor made a mental note to ask about it later, when the emergency was over. They were curious about new things, as they always had been.\n\nThey watched how much more she leaned on the shrine the more time passed, stepping forward once it seemed that the threat, whatever it was, had disappeared. Cautiously, the Doctor felt the air in front of them, relieved to find that whatever had hurt them seemed to be gone. The glare they received from her didn't bother them that much, nor did the threat, it wasn't exactly uncommon for patients to be like that. A lot of people were rude, or downright hostile when all they wanted was to help - it was an unfortunate fact of life, and not one that was going away anytime soon.\n\n\"If I try anything bad, I'm certain that you can end my life before I even know what's happening,\" The Doctor replied with a nod. Though they didn't entirely believe the threat, considering how weak she was getting, they knew it was better to just go along with it so that they could actually help her. What a pain...\n_ _\n\nWith that, they slowly crossed the distance, movements slow and deliberate, not daring to make a sudden move - wouldn't want to spook her and risk getting hurt, after all. \"I must warn you that this process will hurt quite a bit, but that's because it's essentially months of healing crammed into a few seconds. I am not trying to cause you harm, understood?\"\n\nBut where to start, where to start. There were plenty of injuries that needed their attention, but the one that seemed the most pressing was that head wound. Injuries to the head were always dangerous, and it was as good a place to start as any. So, Doctor Jones reached out their hands, gently placing the right against the side of her head, the left held in front of the injury - with how cold the weather outside was, their hands were even colder than usual, to the point where it became genuinely unnerving to feel. They took a deep breath, and the fingers of their left hand started moving, tiny very deliberate movements, instructing the flesh to start fusing back together.\n\nAssuming she didn't push them away, it would hurt, sure, it'd hurt a lot, an excruciating pain as the flesh melted together, but barely twenty seconds later, relief. It was as if the wound had never been there, and the pain faded just as quickly as it had appeared, leaving only its memory behind." }, { "author": "Oryra Felanna", "message": "Oryra kept a close watch at the doctor got close. She was sure they probably could tell she wasn't much up for a fight or even to defend herself if the situation called for it. Though she still wanted to seem like she wasn't that weak yet. If only she'd not been abandoned she might have had a good life going, one slip up though ended that all. Though it took a year sitting in a cold cell to realize no one was coming for her.\n\nThe doctors magic seemed interesting when they explained it, though was that even possible? Maybe it was since they did seemed to heal their own hand. It just wasn't something she could though just believe, least not right away when she needed to he on guard with this stranger. \"You don't seem like you came here just to give a token or whatever to the god or goddess here. Though no one saw me come here either... So why type of black magic are you using to just happen to be here of all places?\" She wanted to know something of the doctor to maybe use against them if needed. Though she was probably not asking any right questions for it.\n\nOryra would glare at them more at being told it would be painful. They sure didn't seem to he in any pain when the cut was healed on their palm. It made her more skeptical about what they actually could do. Though she would pass out soon from blood loss so what would a little more pain causes? Oryra would watch their hands still as she nodded. As the doctor would reach out and put their hands on her head she couldn't help but flinch at first from the cold of them. It was surprising to say the least at how cold their hands really were. Though after a moment she would get used to it and stay still. Oryra would want to push back at the pain set in, they weren't lying when they said it would hurt. She would hiss at the pain but try to stay put, it felt like forever while they were healing the wound. Only once it was done would she step back and feel where the cut was. \"How... How the hell did you do that?\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "The reason why the Doctor didn't react to the pain when healing their own laceration was not because it didn't hurt - no, it was quite simple; they were used to the pain. They'd healed themself like this more times than they could count, after all, and so the pain was far from unfamiliar to them.\n\nThey raised an eyebrow at the question asked of them, exhaling a deep breath. \"To put it simply... I can sense when people near me are hurt, in a way. Since your injuries seemed to be quite extensive, I decided to come over and offer my aid.\" Was it really black magic? Sure, Hemomancy was an art that was outlawed in most countries, but Lazaroth was not one of those countries - it was one of the reasons they came here to begin with. To know that they could safely do things like this without risking being prosecuted by the Order of the Mage Hands, aid people in this way... It was important to them.\n\nOnce the wound was healed, Doctor Jones removed their hands temporarily, taking a moment to catch their breath. What injury was the most pressing next...? Seemed like it was the one on her side. \"I've been doing this for a long time,\" They stated simply, taking a step closer as she took a step back, gaze focused on the injury on her side. \"Would you mind lifting your arm so I can get to your side?\" After that, the leg, and then, the arm, and then they should be done. Luckily, they actually remembered to have breakfast this morning, so they likely would have enough energy to fix all of it without collapsing for once.\n\nStill, it was hard to miss that this wasn't an easy process. Doctor Jones looked slightly winded from the effort already, breathing a little heavier and their heart beating harder than it was before. Didn't mean they were planning to stop, though, if there was anything the Doctor was known for, it was their stubbornness and refusal to give up when it came to matters like these, even if it negatively affected their health." }, { "author": "Oryra Felanna", "message": "Oryra would listen to how they had found her, it wasn't a normal thing most just could do. Which than raised the question of what were they? She doubted someone normal could do such a thing. Though it didn't mean she was going to judge them for it really. She'd done a lot of shady things in her few years of life. One of those things was joining the sisterhood, but when your a street urchin you will look for some type of home.\n\nIt was nice not feeling the pain in her head anymore though she noticed they didn't seem very well off after doing it. That didn't seem like a normal thing either. \"I never heard of someone being able to sense injuries it seemed almost mythical like the gods... What exactly are you to be able to use such a thing?\"\n\nOryra would lift her arm up as she let them look at her side. This one would no doubt hurt. The side had getting a nice cut to it from a guards sword, she'd thought of stitching it up before but hadn't had the strength to do it at the time. \"Your winded, you also don't look good. You sure this is something you should be doing? You can just stitch them up and it will be fine. I have plenty of scars from such things. One more or 3 won't hurt me. Though you collapsing I don't think I need at the moment.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "\"It's not mythical, I've just had a lot of time to practice,\" The Doctor reiterated, letting out a sigh. \"I've been in this world for a long time, and a doctor for most of that. Frankly, it would be more surprising if I wasn't proficient in this art.\" Indeed, with almost three centuries of experience, the Doctor knew much more about the art of healing than many people alive nowadays - even if that healing mostly just extended to physical injuries lately. Those were what they were an expert in, after all.\n\nGently, their fingers prodded at her side, sensing the injury that lay there. Should be an easy fix, all things considered. Though, before they started, the Doctor shook their head at what the stranger said. \"Introducing a foreign entity to the wound will only increase the risk of infection,\" They explained, \"Besides, I don't have the supplies for that on me right now.\" They never had it on them, to be frank, but this person didn't have to know that.\n\nWith that said, the Doctor placed their right hand on the other's stomach to keep her from moving, and once more hovered their left over the injury, fingers trembling to direct the flesh to start fusing together again in a process that was just as excruciatingly painful as the last time. It took a little longer this time, not because they were getting more tired, but simply because the wound was in a more tricky location. Still, it was fixed soon enough, and once more they paused to take a few deep breaths before approaching her leg, seeming ready to start healing this too." }, { "author": "Oryra Felanna", "message": "\"Okay so maybe it's not mystical, but it's still not something you just see today out there for a doctor. If you been here a long time than you are an older race yes? But what type is what I'm wondering. You don't exactly act like ones but it doesn't mean anything either. You could be using a spell to hide for all I know. Also your hands are very cold. Maybe a cold blood type.\" Oryra was honestly just guessing at this point. (Definitely not me guessing because i never read their bio). \n\n\"I have needle and thread. Strongest type too and all of it is clean. So it's not just some foreign entity when it's my mana that makes it. Plus this is hardly a thing that makes me worried.\" With it getting healed again she couldn't help but hiss, it really did hurt and wasn't something she liked feeling. Did she really have to keep feeling this for the other injuries? She really rather have the needle but this also was faster at healing and not worrying about it ripping out than.\n\nOryra signed as she took the weight of her bad leg, it was starting to hurt more. Giving a dull throbbing it it. Adrenaline seemed to only go so far with not noticing your injuries, after that it all started to come back with a vengeance she thought. \"You sure you don't need a longer break? You seem winded ever time you do something like this. I'm sure it's not a normal spell to make you that tired and it sure isn't some crystal doing it.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "\"I'm a High Elf, if you must know.\" She might notice that the Doctor was only talking when they weren't treating any wounds - it seemed that was a process they had to focus on intensely, lest there was a chance that things would seriously go wrong. \"And trust me, there is no such thing as cold or warm blood.\" They paused, then sighed, gazing down at their hands for a moment, which were slick with blood by now.\n\n\"The reason my hands are cold is because, well...\" Another sigh. \"To make a long story short, it's because I'm fairly underweight. It's difficult to retain body heat when a body doesn't have a lot of fat, so...\" They gave a faint smile, and a shrug. \"That's why my hands are cold.\" Indeed, though most of their body was hidden beneath their loose-fitting clothes, their thin face and slender hands made it evident they were speaking the truth.\n\nWhy they were being so honest to a complete stranger, the Doctor didn't know. Perhaps it was because they were tired, perhaps it was because they wanted this person to trust them so they could continue the treatment, perhaps it was because they wanted to distract her from the pain, perhaps something else, perhaps all of the above. Either way, that was enough questioning, wasn't it? Best get back to it and get this over with.\n\n\"I can handle it,\" They said stubbornly, this time lowering their hands to her leg, crouching down to reach the area better. Another deep breath, another flash of pain, another heal, this time it was starting to slow down slightly due to their exhaustion. Not enough for Doctor Jones to be anywhere near worried about it, though. Currently, they were doing about the equivalent of strenuous exercise, which while not the most healthy thing in their current state, wasn't that bad.\n_ _\n\nA long breath escaped them when they pulled back, quickly wiping a few beads of sweat off their forehead. \"Alright, give me your arm, and we'll be done.\" The Doctor extended their hand, curiously not getting up from their crouched position - were they trying to hide their exhaustion?" }, { "author": "Oryra Felanna", "message": "\"I never met a high elf before. I'm surprised really that one would be in Lazatoth even more. Why are you here? Are you traveling here or living here?\" Oryra would usually be one that's cocky and arrogant but using questions seemed to keep her mind off of what was all going on at the moment. She also didn't have anywhere to go after this so making it last wasn't a bad thing right?\n\n\"I think there is such a thing, and you being a doctor won't convince me otherwise that cold and warm blood are real. Why else would you have some people act the way they do during cold months huh? Why does blood interest you so much? Especially when it's on your hands. Have you killed before? Is that why you don't like it or get transfixed by it?.\" Oryra was probably asking more questions than needed, it really was becoming a bad habit at the moment for them.\n\nShe would at them as she did take note now on how their body looked frailer because of last of good nutrition. Oryra knew herself how that was, it wasn't good especially during winter months because you just couldn't keep any of the heat in. \"Well how about this, I treat you to a warm meal and drink for fixing me up. I'm sure you could use it and I'm not going to take no for an answer. I need one just as much as you so might as well have one with company no?.\"\n\nOryra would this time flinch back a bit with them healing her leg, it hurt a bit more since it was slower. This also told her they were a bit full of it. To say they could just handle it. Yeah just like she could handle the last mission she had that ended. \"Okay, ow! You are not touching my arm with your magic now. Nope! I'm using a needle and thread and that's it. You are looking exhausted and you still have to walk back to inside the town. This is far enough away that people won't just show up here. So, no to the healing deal of yours. You want to heal it you can do so later once you eaten. Plus you are probably cold too being out here this whole time.\"" } ]	445	4,642
325	2024-02-21	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "The Doctor scoffed softly in response, averting their gaze. To say that her questions had struck a nerve was an understatement to be sure, and they weren't exactly good at hiding it. There were always just those few sensitive subjects that they never liked to discuss, or have mentioned at all, and this was very much one of them.\n\nStill, no matter how obvious their reaction was, they weren't about to admit any of it. They remained silent at her words, simply using their technique of refusing to say another word on the subject until the other person dropped it. Stubbornly, the Doctor crossed their arms, remaining seated on the ground for now, legs crossed beneath them as always. They would have gotten up, but fainting would only prove her point - best stay low for now.\n\nThey silently listened to the story, keeping their gaze lowered. Another former slave... Just how common was slavery in this country? That did explain the injuries, and with how extensive they were... They had no reason to believe that she was lying.\n\nFrankly, they didn't know what to say. Hearing that tale, it made the Doctor feel a little bad about snapping - but they weren't about to admit that right now either. Instead, they just let out a soft sigh, folding their hands in their lap. Looking up, they watched the demonstration of the thread, one eyebrow going up in curiosity. \"That is rather intriguing,\" They said softly, with a slight tilt of the head. \"So that is how you... Injured me earlier?\" Part of them wanted to examine it more closely, but they didn't want to risk upsetting her - after all, they'd seen first-hand how dangerous that weapon could be." }, { "author": "Oryra Felanna", "message": "\"You're a stubborn one yourself huh? Though I suppose it's not a surprise when you seem to not like the topic of killing someone. Which means you probably did or something close but now regret it.\" She would move her hands a bit as to let the threads reflect the light it got and to show how small of threads they were. Just because they were being stubborn didn't mean she wouldn't show them.\n\nShe would after a bit make them vanish as she looked at them just sitting there. She wondered why they just were sitting but had her guess as to why. She probably was more right than they wanted to admit.\n\n\"Don't excuse my story with pity, I deserved some of what was coming to me. Though not all of it. They just shipped me here to be a slave. Thought it wad a great place to I guess?\" She shrugged as she didn't want to talk about it all yet. She would have to make a run for it later anyways. \n\n\"Yesz this is how you got injured because it isn't just some simple threads. Though I doubt yiu probably want to experience it again to find it how it works. It's usually a long explanation and since you don't want a warm meal doubt you got time to listen to it all\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Once again, the Doctor said nothing, and only silently averted their gaze, staring down at their hands, left hand cradled in their right. Had something changed? Had people gotten better at guessing, somehow? Or had they just gotten worse at hiding their secrets?\n\nNo, that wasn't it... Probably. The fact that people tended to guess what was going on with them was likely because they were spending a lot more time around others. Not because they particularly wanted to, no, it was more because over the centuries, their body had weakened to the point where it was getting more and more difficult to make a quick getaway after healing people, forcing them to spend more time around them. It truly was a pain.\n\nShe deserved it? Once more, the Doctor raised their gaze to meet hers. \"What do you mean, you deserved it?\" They asked with a hint of curiosity evident in their voice. Most people wouldn't say something like that about being shipped off to be a slave - it was making them wonder. And hey, they'd earned some questions... Right?\n\nUsing their curiosity against them now, was she? The Doctor resisted the urge to shoot her a glare, and instead just sighed. \"Fine, if you truly must insist like that, we can get something to eat. And before you ask, I don't have a preference for anything. I usually just go for whatever is cheapest or takes the least effort to prepare.\" They looked away again, in the direction of the city. \"You pick something out. I'm not picky.\" That certainly was one way of putting it." }, { "author": "Oryra Felanna", "message": "\"You know you are a bit bad at hiding your reactions to things, right? Are you always like that? Actually forget I'm asking. You probably won't answer anyway.\" Oryra would hold out her hand to them to help them up. They might be stubborn but didn't mean they couldn't get a hand up from the ground. She knew all of the story of hers would take time to tell and if it got the doctor to go eat the better.\n\nShe would wonder why they cradled their hand a bit. Was there a reason or just something that made them feel better? She was really just reading too much into all of it now but she couldn't help but not. She wanted to know more of this docs story. Why had they done something wrong.\n\nOryra would stop for a second at them asking her on what she meant, though would shrug as she didn't too much care. She could kill the doctor if she felt they would tell. \"I said I deserve some of what I had coming. Not all of it. But if you must know, I got caught stealing and let's just say it went down from there.\" She would shrug as it was her life, stealing was a regular thing for her to do.\n\nShe couldn't help but smile at them finally agreeing to go get something to eat. No one knew her enough to know she was a runaway. So it should be fine yes?. \"Oh you go for cheap? Well we can't do that this time at all. And don't worry. The slavers are paying for this meal.\" She couldn't help but smirk as she showed a stolen coin purse she'd taken while running. They deserved to lose some cash when they worked in such a trade." } ]	337.5	1,300
413	2024-02-25	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Was it really going to be okay like that? The Doctor followed her gaze, half expecting some kind of guard to come running at them, but there was nothing there. Only the city, same as it had been for the past few weeks. \"Well, if you say it's fine...\" They muttered noncommittally, seeming not quite ready to believe her. Wouldn't people be looking for her still? Was helping her putting them in danger? That, they knew didn't matter - if helping someone endangered them, they'd still go through with it. But if she were in danger still... That'd be problematic.\n\nA quiet groan escaped them. She really didn't seem to understand that it didn't matter what they ate. \"If it gave me the right nutrition, I'd be happy to just eat mud,\" The Doctor grumbled, leaning against the shrine with their arms crossed. \"Why waste money that could be better spent helping others?\" That was the way they'd been living for most of their life - spend as little as they could get away with on themself, and everything else went towards helping others. They were still trying to repent for that unforgivable sin, after all, and they probably were going to die trying. But it was fine. It was what they deserved.\n\nAt her vague acceptance of the idea, the Doctor beckoned her closer with a hand. \"Give me your needle and thread... Thingy. Do you have something sharp to cut the thread with?\" It seemed that she wasn't believing that they needed to sew this up - best give some sort of explanation. \"If I don't close this wound somehow, it'll scar really badly. Especially when the edges are clean like that. Since you won't allow me to heal you properly, this is the next best option, no?\" It made perfect sense to them, and hopefully she understood their reasoning." }, { "author": "Oryra Felanna", "message": "\"If you are so nervous about being around me and having someone come after you just leave than. I'm not going to make you stay if you are so worried that.\" Oryra didn't need to have them around either if they thought it was not smart to be around someone who had run away. Though that was their choice in the end anyways. \"I lost them a long ways back, I just stayed here because I thought maybe if anyone showed up they wouldn't try to spill blood in a shrine area. But I also don't know the god here so they might like blood.\" Oryra would shrug as she really didn't know or care since she didn't believe in them.\n\nOryra couldn't help but roll her eyes. They were really dramatic on not wanting a decent meal. \"Because sometimes it's nice someone spends some money you is why. Thats the whole point of this remember? You can eat all the dirt you want on your own time. But maybe that's something you don't like doing, allowing others to do something for you.\" Oryra wondered if this was the case for them. There was still probably something in their story for such a thing but she wouldn't push them on why. They were helping her and have so best not to bite the hand too hard.\n\nShe would walks over to them as she would take out her small needle and let thread form onto its eye. \"The thread thingy is just that thread. The loom won't do you any good. It only works for me for the space in it.\" Oryra would put her hand over the look and a pair of clean scissors would come out of it, it would be a pocket pouce the loom but wasn't something she was going to say right away. \"I have plenty of scars so what is one more? Its not like I'm going to make it in life as a seamstress. Not something anyone would allow me in as an apprentice now with the mark of one horn.\" Oryra did have a dream of making clothes, it seemed silly but she did want to do that if she ever really got the chance to do, though it would be a lot harder now since she was on the run and she was an ex-sister." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Were they truly worried about that? That someone might show up, someone that could cause them and her harm, or did they just want an excuse to leave and avoid any further questions? Knowing them... It was very likely the latter. The Doctor let out a sigh, deciding to relent and stick with the situation for now - wasn't like they had anything better to do right now anyway. \"I suppose the matter does not concern me all that much,\" They said with a faint shrug. \"I just... Wanted to be certain that you were safe right now.\"\n\nAnother sigh escaped them when she kept insisting. Arms crossed, the Doctor seemed like they were about to refuse again, stubborn glint in their eyes, but for whatever reason, they looked to be deciding against it. Instead, they sighed again, then spoke in an exasperated voice; \"Fine, if you really want to do so, then I suppose I won't try to stop you any longer.\" There was no use fighting her on the matter, it seemed. What a pain...\n\nAt least she allowed them to use their medical knowledge instead of declining their help. The Doctor accepted the needle and thread, temporarily pocketing the scissors. They took the injured arm in their right hand and pulled up her sleeve with their left to expose the injury, examining it quietly for a moment. Pretty clean laceration overall, shouldn't be too difficult... Though it wasn't going to be painless.\n_ _\n\n\"This is going to hurt,\" They told her, needle held in their left hand. And like that, they started to work quickly and efficiently, hands moving as if they'd done this a thousand times before. Push the edges of the wound together with their right hand, push the needle inside and out again, tie a knot, cut the thread, rinse and repeat. Their movements were practiced, and they were done quickly, snipping off the last bit of thread and leaving behind a row of neat stitches in her arm, the wound closed up again. \"You're going to want to remove those in ten days or so,\" They said, holding out the needle and scissors for her to take back." }, { "author": "Oryra Felanna", "message": "\"Well you sure act like it has till now. I wouldn't have anything happen to you though. Just because I'm a thief doesn't mean I will let someone hurt an innocent for my own faults. I rather not have that happen and would run off before than. And you can always just say you fixed me up and that was all.\" Oryra would shrug, she wouldn't do anything to let them get hurt. Least not on purpose would she do that.\n\nOryra couldn't help but smile at them finally caving in and letting her do what she wanted for a meal. She wasn't planning anything crazy but if it worked out she would get them a warm and nutrition one. What it would be she didn't know but would be interesting to see what the place they went to was. \"Good, glad you finally are letting me do what I want for a meal. Don't worry I'm not doing anything crazy for it just want to get you something warm and nutritious.\"\n\nShe wouldn't care too much about pain. She'd had plenty of pain in her past and was given usually a very bad drug that hurt when rubbed into the wound. A little pain from getting sown up was nothing. As they would start she would clench her teeth but otherwise didn't move, she was more used to this than what they had done to her before with healing it completely. It was a strange thing to have them just be able to heal but everyone had their own special talents, that was just not one she had. \"Well good luck with me easily remembering that, but I will try to remember to remove them at that point.\" She would take the needle and scissors back as she made them vanish into her small little loom portal." } ]	411.5	1,652
251	2024-02-29	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Was it objectively speaking the better idea to stay with this person, go get something to eat in a warm place, and only then leave? Sure. Food was something the Doctor desperately needed on the best of days, and warmth would be great right now, considering how cold it was in this damned country. However, their appetite was nonexistent currently, and their desire to spend more time around people when they were already exhausted, even less so. All they truly wanted was to curl up somewhere and sleep, no matter how much the stranger might desire company.\n\nFrankly, the only thing really keeping them here was the fact that her injuries hadn't entirely been fixed, but she seemed stubborn enough to not let them do that. Why waste the energy? They did what they could, no? Having stitched it up, it should start healing, assuming the wound was taking care of - and considering the scars she mentioned, the woman was likely used to getting injured like that, so she probably knew how to do so.\n\nAll in all, it seemed that there was no real reason for them to stay. The Doctor straightened their back somewhat, making an attempt to look her in the eyes. \"Make sure to keep your wound clean,\" They told her, stuffing their hands into their pockets. \"And...\" They wouldn't normally add a statement like this, but it felt important right now, \"I hope you stay safe.\" Was that all? Seemed like it was about time for the two of them to part ways - unless she had something else to add, of course." }, { "author": "Oryra Felanna", "message": "Oryra could tell at her saying they could leave that it probably would happen just like that. She didn't blame them, she'd kept them out in the cold long enough. Hopefully they would get somewhere warm once they did leave.\n\nHolding back wanting to say more was hard yet she did. She'd been stubborn enough for this doctor. She might seem them again someday though she really doubted she would. If the law didn't get her who knew what would be next. \"I will keep it clean. You don't need to worry about that... I will try my best, not much I can do though.\"\n\nTaking a deep breath she would close her eyes. The cold was almost nice to her because it kept her from saying something to make them stay. Oryra opened her eyes as she looked at the doctor a last time. \"Get back safe, no need for you to get sick being out longer.\" With that she turned from the town and walked a side ways from it, to where she didn't know." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "There were plenty of things one could do to stay safe, but the Doctor didn't mention it, not wanting to risk annoying her at the end of what had otherwise been a relatively pleasant meeting. Instead, they just gave a nod, raising a hand in a half-hearted wave as they watched her leave.\n\nAnd just like that, it seemed like it was time for them to go as well. The Doctor exhaled a sigh, then turned around, stuffing their hands deep into their pockets. They had meant to wander around the city a little, see what it had to offer, but, well... Seemed today wasn't the day - though as they started walking, they soon realized they weren't unsatisfied, it was quite the opposite.\n\nWhat better way was there to spend their time and energy than to save someone's life? Make sure someone got another day to live? Despite their exhaustion, when they started walking back, the Doctor was in a good mood, head held high and looking ahead instead of down at the ground. They'd done good, and they were allowing themself to be a little proud of it." } ]	226	753
543.333333	2023-11-22	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Countess Virzieth Izra", "message": "Thankful neither had put out a snide remark towards her improper greeting. The stone in her stomach twisted at the same time it shrunk. The duchess's smile did not go unnoticed but did little to ease her nerves. \n\nFor the newly inducted countess, this trip could determine her entire political career. Getting in good with the duchess and grand martial, no matter how controversial the former may be, could push her towards a more comfortable standing. If she wanted to continue to build and grow Inyelion that was essential.\n\nFor the moment, however, Virzieth fell into step behind the pair her hands tucked neatly behind her back. Inyelion had no walls like this city, only pilings of sand and stone to keep the sea at bay. The only dangers the town had ever faced came from the water so building such a monument would prove to be a waste if not a danger. \n\nBefore her the duchess and the marshall engaged in a sort of dance of words. Each phrase was carefully picked and tonation mulled over before it came forth. It was fascinating to listen to for Virzieth. The way the Marshall played so carefully into his role as a man, with no demands and always a show of respect, yet still managed to show his position. \n\n\"Many men have stepped forward following the attack on Inyelion,\" The Countess jumped at the pause in the dance. For her to idle and gawk any longer could be detrimental. She came for a reason. \"Many Do Cite you as a contributing factor. I am simply thankful for the hands.\" With their losses the men nearly matched the number of women in the town's guard, it was unprecedented, but they performed just as well. Filed into the ranks as any other. The countess welcomed them with open arms without a second thought. Another tick against her with the local nobility.\n\nThe countess rather starkly contrasted the duchess in her 'nurturing' of such ideals. Virzieth was closer to the hurdles drow men faced in Lazaroth than many other women. As a child, she watched time and again as her father was undermined. Raising a child alone as a father was taxing on him. She could see at times the anger that burned whenever women tried to correct the ways he was raising her or belittle his place in the guard. Yet, in the end, he still died fighting to protect those women. For a moment, Virzieth wondered if the marshall would do the same." }, { "author": "Zaknafein Aan'ordel Aan'allein", "message": "She seemed a little unsettled, but that was to be expected. She was already teetering off kilter, on edge at the presence of so many men in the guard as the base of control shifted out from under her. She had every reason to be wary. Betrayal and lies were the most fitting worship for the goddess, and that game he could play as well as any. An inspiration to them, she said - losing every bit of subtlety she had once tried to keep. She never Had* Been nurtured on the idea of men in power, but it had come with the war and stayed after it in the army of the Queen. \n\nThe war had created special circumstances, as wars tended to do - reserves were hauled up and desperate measures rolled out to fight a rising tide of blood. Even those had run dry by the end. Perhaps Lazaroth was becoming more and more like those strange lands she spoke of, and perhaps not - in Alynthi and Findara, men made up the bulk of the military, but they had an entirely different idea of society. Their culture was practically alien. This was most certainly a series of moves constructed by a drow.\n\n\"I found myself inspired by Matron Gyela's leadership.\" He replied evenly.* \"Every guardswoman or guardsman has their own reasons to join, Matron Argith.\" Inspired by Matron Gyela he had been, though her leadership had led to revolt instead of loyalty. Inspired to action against her, inspired to take bloody revenge for Lynnor's death upon the waves. There were many inspirations one could find given the wrong leadership. Let Matron Argith choke on her questions for the moment, and choke on her own blood if and when she needed to be removed.\n\nHe was momentarily surprised to hear the strangely soft voice of Matron Irza enter the conversation, adding her recent observations. Perhaps it was her attempt to please him, toadying up so that she might be looked upon with favor. Even commoners played the great game after a fashion - especially common women. She was growing into her new role indeed.\n\n_ _\n\"I have been considering the attack on Inyelion lately, Matron Irza.\" He replied, a respectful bow of his head showing deference towards her. Important to keep up appearances in public and in private - he was, after all, still a man. The moment he became too brazen was the moment he died, whether it took minutes, hours, days or years to realize it. \"If it would not trouble you, perhaps we might review the defenses of the city, and accounts of the night?\"\n\nTruth be told, his birthplace was rather poorly defended. Low, barely-there stone walls around mansions were the best defenses they had. He could take the entire city with a single company of soldiers, if he had to do so - guard complements were rarely a match for professionals, and even less so when they had no battlements to man. That needed to change. There was nothing stopping a small force from landing during the night a few miles up the coast and marching directly into the streets to storm the manor of the countess. Against pirates, though, they had their picket ships - and he wondered why they had not been detected that night. Pirates could not afford to land miles from the city - they needed a quick escape while laden down with treasure. Foul play was the only answer." }, { "author": "Duchess Vierna Argith", "message": "There was very little in her composure to ignite any such idea of being unsettled, the Duchess simply having her questions. The tone she spoke never lingered on suspicion, but open curiousity. The Marshal would only offer her half-truths, naturally, as he mentioned Matron Gyela his own inspiration. Vierna had atleast heard of her traditional reputation, a grizzled commander that met her fate those many years ago during battle with the Nation of Tritetheas. That war had been the bane of many families, and likely a topic she would struggle to match with a Veteran.\n\nThough before she could muster a reply, that softer tone rose up from behind. The Countess, Matron Virzieth, offering her piece. There would be support for her remarks, she felt, but the topic of Inyelion seemed to shine the most. Vierna would not spite her vassal by distracting attention, simply allowing the topic to move along as naturally as it did.\n\n_\"..That would be for the best, I feel. I have sent a force of soldiers to help assist in safeguarding the realm. Our forces at sea, I hear, have been more dutiful in overseeing these Southern Shores. As the Master of Ships has decreed, atleast.\"_\n\nChiming in, the Duchess referenced her notion of support, alwhile watching the Countess in wait of her own response. A dispatch of soldiers had been made to support the current garrison, in her view a dutiful move as liege. The Pirate Attack in itself certainly had its suspicions, a place crowded by rival families. - One could imagine the later irritation with a commoner, no less, taking control. The hero of the tale, the people's choice. That indeed would be the Countess standing right infront of her, notions of age old ways still clinging to her despite this new Noble standard." } ]	525	1,630
440	2023-12-12	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Zaknafein Aan'ordel Aan'allein", "message": "Matron Argith caught on quickly, as he had expected her to do - and there was a marked difference in her tone from the beginning of the question to the end. Enquiry became amusement in the blink of an eye, and the flick of a hand for a slave to bring some refreshment as he had asked. A bow of the head towards her punctuated his thanks. It would not do to let the matrons go underappreciated for complying with a suggestion - even better when it came not from the queen's lips, but from his. Matron Argith was remarkably pliable in that matter. Perhaps a ruse.\n\n\"It is my thought that worthiness is better proven than extolled.\" He replied coolly. An indulgence, she said - and perhaps that was true. It was his Way, and the ways of men were often preyed upon by those who had come to know their routine. Perhaps an upstart officer raring for a promotion wished to inject herself into the duel, only to reveal she was no duelist at all. Perhaps a Sister of Silence perched in a shadow, overlooking his courtyard as he trained a young man in the art of swordsmanship. Yes, routine was an indulgence indeed - but such indulgences had their purpose.\n\nHero of Inyelion, Matron Argith called her - but across the small courtyard, she looked far too young for that. As she was handed her sword, his eyes remained fixed on her position, taking in the way she stood, the way she stepped. It was subtle, but there was something of an old injury in it. He had to harry her quickly, make sure she was off her balance, forced to move and stay moving in order to evade. No shield, he thought to himself. An interesting choice, to be sure, when an arming sword was a weapon wielded in only one hand.\n\nThe guard he had sent away returned in a half-second with a cuirass that was meant to cover his chest and stomach, preventing fatal injuries beyond those that might sever his neck when combined with the helm provided. He held his arms to either side, allowing his men access.\n\n_ _\nOver the gray-skinned torso rippling with muscles and scars in equal measure went the breastplate, a snarling wolf-s head engraved upon the front. A reminder that he served the queen, that he fought in her name. The barbute helm, by contrast, was simple - round, with a nose guard and cheek plates that offered good protection and kept his vision clear. Once the metal had made its way around his chest, the soldiers stepped back for a moment, and Zaknafein rolled his gnarled shoulders, checking his mobility.\n\n\"Yours is the first move, Matron Irza.\" He replied, placid as a lake while he drew a longsword from his side, placing it in both hands and lifting them into a high guard. Two of the fingers wrapped around the hilt moved slightly slower - the lower half of the left hand, where there had been a puckered scar that ran his palm through on one side and the other. His steps were catlike, poised..." }, { "author": "Countess Virzieth Izra", "message": "When Virzieth was a captain she had made a point of training her subordinates without the use of her shield or helmet. A point in how poor their attacks were that they could be blocked without their support. Now, it was to prove that she did not fear the man before her. That this duel was equal to her as training young soldiers fresh out of their mothers' embrace. That she was not a child who needed to be pitied. \n\nAlso perhaps a branch of trust. Trust that he wouldn't take the chance and silt her throat the moment the chance arose. \n\nNaturally, this was all a front. Her heart slammed against her chest as she forced even breaths through her lungs. Tucking her unarmed hand behind her back she pressed her knuckles firmly against her back she readied the sword in her other hand. \n\nEven now the marshal had to show who he stood here for, the matriarch. He would always take such a chance. It's what gave his words and his action power. \n\nPerhaps he would take that branch of trust and break it across his knee. End her here. It was a chance she was taking. \n\nOne final deep breath and her features settled into a hard look of concentration. It was clear his size would not hold back his agility, his steps were light ready to pounce at the first given chance. \n\nVirzieth rushed forward sword pointed in front of her as she thrust straight to the space between his helmet and breastplate only to feign at the last second to slam the blade down on the side of his head." }, { "author": "Zaknafein Aan'ordel Aan'allein", "message": "Before the commencement of the duel, he had been careful not to underestimate her, making sure to call for a helmet and cuirass, ensuring that should the worst happen, it would not likely result in his death. Pride he swallowed every day. Death he could only stomach but once. Yet there she was, refusing to wear her own helmet, neglecting her own shield. Perhaps it was a concession, but he wondered why in the world she would begin to underestimate him. \n\nThere was something in that - a way to get her to lower her guard, if he began to strike slower than the usual, getting her used to a lazy timing before pulling the rug out underneath. She inhaled, the noise signaling the fight's start as clearly as any bell. Time seemed to slow, the world fading to the distance between them. \n\nShe opened strangely, with a thrust made by the arming sword rather than a cut - the longsword he held was much more of a thrusting weapon than her own, and the way she held her weapon in front of her made him think of a young boy, charging with arms held outward, unbalanced. When the feint revealed itself, as he was sure it would, it was easy enough to evade. Smoothly, he stepped away from the strike - with her arm extended for the thrust already, it was simple enough to step within her guard at the same time.\n\nAt such a distance, it was likewise simple to throw his right shoulder into her breastplate, hoping to catch her off-balance and overextended with a weight advantage that was well leveraged to attempt to knock her off her feet..." } ]	335	1,320
414.428571	2024-02-19	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "atalex", "message": "Is it sunset or am i being a fake newser" }, { "author": "Prismar Seasire", "message": "Winter's distant sun sat her throne atop Eona's calm oceans; her golden supertunica flowing across the ceiling of the sea. The hazy gray of a far-away storm smudged the horizon line, and heralded that the sunlight would soon be deposed by the terror of rolling thunderclouds and a never-ending deluge from the sky. Where shimmering ichor coasted abreast the distant waves, an odd ripple in its midst disunified Lucidien's cyclical harmony. Partially obscured by shades of colliding blue and the glare of the ocean, the head of a foreign silhouette silently emerged from the sea. For several breaths, the figure only stared at the sun, as if the sight of the red giant hypnotized it. Then, it turned, and two silhouettes rose behind its shoulders. Step by step, they drew nearer to Lazaroth's rocky shores. The warmer water of the shallows stirred and coalesced in the wake left by their measured strides, dropping from their necks, to their chests, to their thighs. \n\n The primary entity stopped one meter from the slipway, the Bay simmering around its ankles. The shoreline rocks shifted and rolled around its feet, as if they were as unsettled as the light was—that clung to its humanoid periphery and cast its features into shadow—by the presence of a creature that did not belong on land. The waves rolled against the crude beach, and lapped against the great hulls of ships moored in the Syvathere docks. Once. Twice. Thrice, and the trifecta did not move." }, { "author": "atalex", "message": "I realized Jones/Ashby hadn't gotten out of the carriage yet so I had to change some things LOL" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Hearing Ashby speak up, the Doctor looked back at him, giving a slight tilt of the head. Despite everything, despite how much they assumed he'd wanted to return home, he seemed... Apprehensive. They could understand that, they supposed. It always was scary to start a new chapter of one's life, no matter how good of an idea it was. They themself had been more than a little apprehensive before coming to this country, part of them wanting to reject the change and stay where they were - but now, they were feeling glad that they hadn't done that, that they'd given this miserably cold land a chance, because it already had led to some positive change. The change in question now being reluctant to leave the vehicle.\n\n\"I'll be alright, I've been alive for much longer than you have, and I don't plan on dying anytime soon,\" They said, offering the faintest hint of a smile. It was endearing, the way Ashby was worried about them instead of the other way around, the way it should be. They were the doctor, were they not? \"You might find it difficult to believe, but that was fairly normal behavior for me. Believe it or not, but compared to how I usually am, I've been doing a lot better lately.\" It was true, actually. Sure, they still struggled with fulfilling their basic needs sometimes - most of the time - but focusing on researching instead of only on healing patients was doing wonders for their energy levels, even if it was difficult to see from an outside perspective.\n\nThe Doctor hesitated for a moment, then extended their hand to the Triton, pushing down that feeling screaming at them to tell the carriage to turn around and not let him leave. \"Come. It's time for you to go home, is it not?\" He was welcome to take their hand for support, cold as it may be, and he was equally welcome to just walk past them, or stay inside - it was his choice now, and that was what mattered, wasn't it?\n_ _\n\nGlancing behind them, in the direction of the shore, they were just in time to spot the figures emerging from the ocean. Was that the group they were meant to be meeting with? They seemed sufficiently ominous, that was for sure. \"I think your welcome party has arrived,\" The Doctor told Ashby, lips parting to let out the slightest of sighs. Already? How truly unfortunate. There went their odds of having at least one more conversation. Their free hand went into their pocket, slender fingers curling around the small box held within. Was now the time? Or later? Later, they decided after a moment, though their hand remained where it was, as if to prevent forgetting about it." }, { "author": "Ashby Ayah", "message": "To say Ashby was getting more nervous was an understatement. He didn't know if he could do this. He almost wanted to just stay with the doctors. Maybe the one part screaming at him to do so was because he'd been a slave for so long. To not be around someone that felt like a master. It just felt almost hard to let go of the last few weeks. Sure he wasn't perfectly healthy yet, but he was better and it was thanks to them. Ashby would frown a bit as he thought about all this. Was he really ready?\n\nAt hearing the doctors works he was sure they would be fine, but it still didn't stop his worry. He wanted to still make sure both of the doctors would be okay. Again he almost wanted to just invite them to come to Tritetheas. They could learn there and he could make sure they were doing okay. It would be a win yes? But to convince them of that would be a whole different conversation and he didn't know if he had the right to ask that of them or not. \"You're right, I do find it hard to believe. But if you are I'm glad... I don't know if I can do this doctor. Going back into the sea. I haven't even touched the sea in a long time. I also don't know if I can leave you both yet. I know I haven't talked about any of it before but now that I feels like it's all ending. I feel as if I can't do it.\" Ashby felt as if he was connected to the two doctors now and it felt too much like a goodbye.\n\n\"Can we least have a little more time?\" Ashby would look out to the waters and see the group coming in. Who were they he didn't know. He wished for more time, but would they be patient enough to wait. It make some dread sink in as this was feeling all too real now. He should be happy about it all, but yet he just felt as if he was losing something. Ashby would let out a bit of a sigh as he would look at the doctor, it wasn't right to be making them be out in this cold while he felt not ready. No, this isn't how he should be acting.\n\nHe wasn't a child anymore. Funny though how that worked, he'd left the sea as a boy and yet was returning to it as an adult. Taking a deep breath he would take the doctors hand, he couldn't do it alone. He wasn't that strong at the moment and the doctors cold hand felt reassuring to him at least. \"I want to extend an invitation... To come to Tritetheas, to both you doctor Jones and Doctor Henryk. I can't say you can go all the way in but you are still invited. We have plants up here doesn't have and you already know our anatomy is different... Uh I don't really know how to... Say goodbye and I suppose I don't want to.\" Ashby would rub the back of their neck as they were a bit embarrassed. He didn't know why he kept acting like this." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Indeed, the Doctor had guessed correctly. They couldn't help but avert their gaze when Ashby spoke, nodding along slightly. Part of them wanted to admit that they were feeling similarly, that they didn't want him to leave, but they also didn't want to risk holding him back. The man sure as hell didn't deserve to be held back by anything or anyone anymore, no matter how good their intentions may be. He had to forge his own path in life, didn't he?\n\nIt was strange. They weren't usually the type to get so sentimental. With any other patient, the Doctor would just have healed them, then moved on to the next patient, still remembering the last one but not being so attached to them. This case, though... It was different, and they weren't sure why. Was Ashby different from the others, somehow? They had treated people with similar conditions before, and even people that were enslaved, and none of those made them feel so melancholy when they had to part ways. Maybe he just... Reminded them of someone they used to know, a long, long time ago, likely before Ashby's grandparents were even born.\n\n\"If you truly don't want to go, you don't have to. I don't want to force you to do anything, and I feel I can say with certainty that Henryk feels the same way. Although I don't think you can't do it. Sure, new beginnings are scary, but look at all the things you've survived before this.\" The Doctor gestured vaguely to emphasize their point. \"If you can live through that, I truly believe that you can live through this, and even thrive.\" Though their smile remained faint, it was most definitely encouraging.\n\nBut... That didn't mean they were going to deny that request. \"Of course we can. I wouldn't mind staying here for a little while longer, and I'm sure they can wait.\" The Doctor glanced back at the small group for a moment or two. Were they screwing this up by not making Ashby go immediately? Maybe, but they didn't have the heart to force him to go.\n_ _\n\nHowever, soon, he took their hand, and they gave it their best attempt at a reassuring squeeze. \"I'll have to take you up on that some day,\" The Doctor replied softly, gazing out into the still ocean. \"I have always been curious as to what life is like down there... I certainly won't deny that offer. And you are always welcome up here as well.\" Did they have the authority to extend that invitation? Maybe not, but they were going to anyway.\n\n\"I've never been good at saying goodbye myself,\" They admitted, and hesitated. Oh, what the hell. The Doctor removed their left hand from their pocket, holding within it a small wooden box, which they held out to Ashby. The box itself was nothing special, but if he were to pry it open, which wasn't too difficult, he'd find a delicate silver bracelet, tiny little segments linked together to form a sturdy chain, with a tiny pendant of the moon hanging on it.\n\nThough it looked simple enough, there was no doubt that the craftsmanship involved required some incredible skill, and it either must have cost a lot of time to make, or a lot of money to buy. \"I don't know if you'll like it,\" The Doctor muttered, bashfully keeping their gaze averted, \"But you can sell it if you don't. It's silver, so it shouldn't corrode underwater, and...\" They trailed off, giving an awkward shrug. \"I don't know, I just wanted you to have something, I suppose.\" Well, this was infinitely more uncomfortable than they'd wanted it to be." }, { "author": "Ashby Ayah", "message": "Though he had felt as if he couldn't do this since arriving here and wanting to just go back. His feeling of that would vanish at the doctors words. He knew the doctor was right and he could live through this. He would see them again and who knows what all will happen next. He just needed to take it a moment at a time.\n\nYes, he didn't want to go or so he thought but it was time. He needed to go home and find himself again no matter what that meant. And both the doctors did want what was best for him. That was why they had done all of this the last few weeks.\n\nHe would look out past to the shore, they were waiting for him. \"Doctor Jones, you really have done a lot for me. But I think we should let them wait for too long. How about next time we meet we have a long conversation? Unless there is more you wish to say.\" Though at first Ashby had been scared to even leave the carriage, with Jones help he now was feeling he could do this and make a new start. \"You best, I want to show you my world someday, and doctor Henryk too. You might not be able to go down as far as my home but you can still see a lot in the reef kingdom. I will be back to see you. I doubt I can just live in the sea again after so many years here on land. I'm not really used to sea legs anymore.\"\n\nAshby would look at the small wooden box, he was a bit surprised that Jones was even giving him anything. Though he would take it slowly and hold it for a moment. He really hadn't had a present in a long time, it felt special to him. Holding it out a bit he would pry it open to see the delicate silver bracelet, to say he was shocked was an understatement. It was beautiful craftsmanship to it. Did the doctor make this? He didn't know if they had or not. Did he dare ask? Either way it had taken a long time to make for whoever had made it. Ashby would take it out of the box and put the bracelet on, looking at it as he smiled.\n\nA real happy smile from receiving something he would now cherish for a long time. He could see that the doctor really didn't know what to say and was a bit bashful with it, it was very kind of the them to do this. Ashby would grab the Jones and pull them into a hug. \"Thank you, Jones. I will charrish this forever. It's the best thing I ever gotten from someone. I'm not going to sell it ever.\"" } ]	547	2,901
390	2023-10-03	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Ehkan Noran Kippat", "message": "Ehkan's eyes darted between everyone standing in front of him, understanding their race, visible weapons, and distance in a few quick blinks. The tiger was the most dangerous one to his senses, especially when he spoke and changed back into his semi-human form, a sign of full mastery over his shifting powers, but not the lycan. Still, he had a point, there was no fighting these people, not with the fight ending in his victory anyway. Also, they seemed less aggressive than he was so he lowered his spear tip to the ground and summoned Golda to his shoulder. \n\nHe looked away from the Shifter to the others, five in total, strangers... Except for the shifter, he seemed familiar in some sense, but that wasn't his bother right now. The lycan tracks were fresh, meaning that it should be the person who came here last, anyone that came from the same direction he did. However asking such would make them even more alarmed, he couldn't state his business here especially when he seemed to be the one out of place. He would need to rely on his observation. He looked at the shoes of everyone there, specks of dirt and grass, but the one with dried mud from the river bank was... He leveled his gaze with the she-elf's, staring intensely into her eyes. She was reaching for one of her weapons, and he had half the mind to raise his spear again but was distracted when the dwarf spoke to him.\n\n\"The Chasm?\" Ehkan looked towards where the Great Chasm lay, he had hoped that nobody was ludicrous enough to head towards such a place, but from the calm expression of everyone here, they were clearly set for the place. Which begged the question, what were they doing there? Not many dared to traverse that place, and when they did they either wound up dead or insane or if they did infact live they told cautionary tales. Never anything good. \"I was not aware of any campaign to the Chasm. I am tracking... Something out this way, and I just stumbled upon you all. Though I don't believe travel to that place is especially wise, I will admit I have gone places considered not wise as well and...\" \n\n Ehkan turned to Katsu with wide eyes as realization hit. \"Katsu? From the LongNight bounty last winter? You're the guy who bit off that last monster's head! That's where I remember that tiger from.\" Any thought of aggression faded from his mind as he stepped forward toward the shifter and clamped a hand on Katsu's shoulder. \"I'm Ehkan remember? We shared ale, and you laughed when I dragged that Owlbear corpse to the guild one time.\" He gazed at the she-elf for a moment then back to Katsu. \"If you're here then shit can't be all that dangerous. It might even be fun.\" \n\n He faced the Dwarf and bowed respectfully. \"I am Ehkan Norran Kippat, Son of the Sun, of the House of Lions. I would be honored to take part in this adventure if my spear would be welcomed to join the blades of those here.\"" }, { "author": "Katsu, the Golden Tiger", "message": "The tiger listened carefully as the two stated their business, his eyes briefly leaving them to glance over at the Chasm itself before returning. He practically wanted to dive straight into the cavern, and get to slaying monsters, but he also knew how stupid and dangerous that was. He had enough self control to wait until his group was ready at the very least.\n\nOne of his ears twitched as he heard his name, and he perked up a bit at the mention of the bounty. He very vividly recalled the violent kill, and while he was terrible with names the event certainly helped revive the image of his face in the blond's mind. \n\n\"You looked hilarious lugging that thing around, can you really blame me?\" He gave the man a toothy smile when the hand came down on his shoulder, only slightly needing to look up at him. \"We haven't had too many encounters with anything just yet, but I'm looking forward to getting in there and getting my claws in them.\" \n\nHe stepped back as Ehkan turned to Theradin and looked out across the woods from where they had stopped, wondering if they'd be staying long enough for him to go out and catch something for a meal, but for the time being he returned to the conversation. Like with the Necromancer though he didn't seem to have any reason to distrust either of them so his guard remained mostly up but he seemed to relax a bit, his tail and ears disappearing to take on a completely human look." }, { "author": "Theradin Flintbreaker", "message": "Theradin stepped back a bit from between everyone, clearly relieved that the tense situation resolved itself. He nodded politely as the two newcomers introduced themselves, and as Katsu and the newcomer seemingly caught up with each other about some past adventure. Honestly it was kind of fortunate they knew each other. They at least could be trusted to work well together.\n\nHe looked towards Ekhan and Roesia, a smile on his face. \"I'm glad to have ye both. You are right lad about the danger,\" He said in reply to Ekhan. \"Why do you think I hired your friend here, along with these other folks? I've got no desire to meet my end anytime soon. Since you both are joining that just makes success that much more likely.\"\n\nHe waited a bit longer, giving folks a moment to talk, before walking back towards the chasm. \"Well we don't have forever, I'd like to get a camp set up by nightfall, so we best get going.\" He said before leading the group down the path." } ]	302	1,170
345.666667	2023-11-05	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Roesia Vuldratrada", "message": "Eyeing Ehkan's familiar, a sense of familiarity washed over Roesia. She herself had a hawk familiar, though hers was a beautiful translucent purple. Watching as the golden bird perched upon the man's shoulder, Roesia found herself admiring the celestial beast from afar, wishing to bring her own out as well. Resisting that urge, Roesia continued down the path, following Theradin and Katsu closely as third in line. Adding her own rope to Theradin's 150 foot's worth, she prayed and hoped close to 200 feet of rope would be more than enough to reach the bottom. Something in the back of her head told her otherwise though- it wasn't called a chasm for just any reason.\n\nListening to Ehkan's suggestion, Roesia decided to follow whatever those who clearly knew what they were talking about's instructions. Theradin was anchoring the ropes while Roesia found herself trying her best to peer through the pitch blackness. His voice caused the she-elf to turn and look towards him before offering a nod. \"I'll send Hera down.\" Lifting her hand to the amethyst jewel on her neck, she clenched it softly before it began to glow. Suddenly, a purple hawk began to form on her arm, perching itself neatly with a quiet screech as it finished forming completely. Without a word, Roesia thrusted her arm forward and Hera took off. After flying outward about a dozen or so feet, the hawk dove downward, disappearing completely from sight as the darkness enveloped her.\n\nRoesia's blind eye began to glow the same purple as Hera, signifying she could see through the bird's eyes. It was clear the she-elf was straining to see, likely just as much as her familiar was. \"Hawks can't see so well in the dark, they're daytime hunters. For now, all I see is darkness, but she's still descending.\" Roesia fell silent, and waited patiently for something, Anything To come into view." }, { "author": "The Tale Weaver", "message": "The darkness didn't seem to break in the slightest, not from the sun nor from the occasional pebble or small rock that fell from being disturbed by the party's descent close to the ledge. It was clearly not a fog nor a mist, as anything falling through it would have shifted the surface in some way, surely. Larger rocks that fell over the edge did not echo when hitting the bottom. It was almost as if there was no bottom to be found, as scary of a notion as that was. Even when Roesia's familiar Hera dove into the blackness, nothing seemed to move or shudder to show she had passed through it. As she passed through it, nothing but darkness would envelop her vision.\n\nThe farther down she went, the more it seemed as though the chasm went on downward forever. While familiar's could not feel pain nor could they die, they still had physical bodies. Many were ridden as mounts, Hera perching on Roesia and Golda doing the same on Ehkan was proof enough of that. It wasn't long after Hera dove through the darkness that Roesia and the rest of the party would receive their answer on how deep the chasm was. After only around 5-10 seconds, the familiar bird would smack into what was presumably the bottom- or at the very least another ledge. While the rest could not hear it, Roesia would hear Hera let out a surprised squawk.\n\nSoon, the bird returned above the sea of darkness and quickly disappeared back into Roesia's necklace. The she-elf's eyes would return to normal." }, { "author": "Roesia Vuldratrada", "message": "The words '-She's still descending.' had barely left Roesia's mouth when the sound of Hera squawking and a loud thud could be heard in her mind. Visibly, the she-elf jumped. \"Gods.\" Shaking her head at herself for reacting in such a way, Roesia was pleased when Hera returned to her. Watching as the beast disappeared, the huntress turned to Theradin who had just checked to ensure the rope was secure. \"Well, she wasn't flying very fast as she was descending, but even still it's quite deep and entirely dark the all way down. I-...\" Pausing, as it was slightly awkward to mention, Roesia continued. \"-I believe Hera smacked into the bottom or another ledge perhaps, as she nor I couldn't see it as it drew closer.\"\n\nTurning to look at the one who had been tracking her, Roesia gestured to Ehkan. \"Does your familiar have the ability to see in the dark? If it is magic as you say, I'm unsure if anything will work. Magically created darkness is notorious for being impossible to see through with any sort of light- even those of us with dark vision can't penetrate and see through it. Perhaps descending is our only option. I didn't hear anything else while Hera was down there either, so perhaps there's no dangers where Hera... Landed.\"" } ]	325	1,037
955.75	2022-12-04	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Caleesi \| Grandmaster of Magic", "message": "It was true that the distinctive and down-right phenomenal sight of Thyseer was something to certainly relish in. Not only was the eladrin kingdom a sight to behold, their culture and appearance vividly stood out to the rest of the world of lucidien. Each corner of the castle always had a particularly new feature about it, as well as the most colors any kingdom would ever see. Findara may have certainly taken the cake for their colorful fireworks show, but here, Thyseer was the ruler of art in every form. For Caleesi, she had only dreamed about what it would be like to set foot within the Fae land. Only ever hearing stories about the fairytale of a kingdom, she was more so interested in the special magic harnessed here. Surely Thyseer had secrets of all kinds in their arcane... \n\nBeing apart of a council brought many opportunities that the grandmistress had surprisingly never would have expected to have. Being able to travel to lands and experience other's way of life was the dream little Scarleth had been wishing for since she was but a child. Although, through the rocky start to Cali's beginnings as a council woman, she hopped to put a foot forwards into her role more seriously. It had been a good few months since the fireworks in Findara. Since Him. Caleesi couldn't even think to say his name anymore, as the thought alone caused her stomach to rise and fall too quickly. Vampire to the kingdom of Lazaroth... Surely he would have no plans to come to a festival such as this. Better yet, would princess Delasanra even Let Such a creature within her court? \n\nScarleth recalled the prior events within her head as she toed herself down the halls of the Thyseer castle. Her mind picturing the bitterness that rose within that sharp, yet beautiful face of the eladrin she-elf. Cali knew very little of princess Delsandra nor of her family, but that night among the stars held alot to be said about the woman. She hated vampires just as- if not More Than the high elf hersel\n\nF. So eager was she to send for Lysanthir's head on a platter for even coming near the council woman... But was that for Caleesi's own safety- Or hers? The sorceress swallowed the dryness that had caught in the corners of her throat as she remembered how sour Delsandra's face was when Cali broke off her order to do so. There was so much fire lingering on that woman's tongue, perhaps even in her bones. If there was anyone to be wary of tonight, maybe it was her. \n_ _\n\nNevertheless, Caleesi pushed her roaring thoughts aside and lifted her chin up to face the closed ballroom doors. With her hands braced neatly at her waist, fingers crossed, the council woman took a hushed inhale through her nose before setting her shoulders back and allowing the heralds to shuffle their way in before her. Tonight had to be set apart from Findara's event, no more running off in isolation. No more panic... 'Just do your job Cal'. Scarleth reminded herself as she exhaled upon the double door's wide opening. Those long elven ears had caught wind of gentle melodies before she was even exposed to the insides of the grand ballroom. Unlike the coolness of Findara, Thyseer's air was sweet, thin, warm and surprisingly welcoming. Golden rays overlapping with the light orange hue of candle light flickered and reflected beautifully within the ocean blue of Caleesi's big doe eyes. Almost as if they were swimming in sun-lit currents, her gaze drifted around each and every corner, watching as bodies swayed idly below on the dance floor. Tangled within the arms of another to a song of slow, heartfelt love. \n_ _\n\nJust like any other royal event however, there was to be expected a circle of three or four tightly knitted together to gossip and whisper upon new arrivals. Only this time Caleesi did her best to zone out her vampirism hearing as she let herself in the rest of the way. Dropping the bunched up ends of her dress that were coiled in her hands, Cali neatly smoothed out the top layer of white matte fabric that flowed enough to allow comfort- yet still hug her form gently to show off her curvaceous figure. Whites were a staple color of the grand mistress. Be that it represented purity she wished to hold onto, or that it truly complemented her angelic figure and facial features, Caleesi just wasn't herself without it. Wrapped up in a no shoulder, V-cut slip dress, the she-elf donned an elegant yet simple design of white body lace to conceal the open parts of her skin that peaked through her flowing gown. Tailored with white roses neatly woven into each stitch, the lace trailed around her arms and legs, accustomed with simple glass slippers to match. Caleesi's soft blond hair was pinned in a half do, with the first layer spun into a bun- leaving a few wavy locks to spew out for effect. As the rest of her tresses were left alone, Cali kept it all behind her shoulders, tumbling down the bare crease of her back. \n_ _\n\nWith all the explosions of colorful outfits and vivid imagery placed along the ballroom walls however, the sorceress started to have second thoughts about wearing such a simple color to a musical festival... \n\|\|" }, { "author": "Songbird Karl", "message": "The long curtain cast a deep shadow over Karl as he sat calmly on a stool, soaking in the darkness. Darkness was something he was rather accustomed to, being a burglar by trade. Yet, he never regarded it in the way others seemed to. The dark to them was a gloomy, painful place, filled with fear and despair. The darkness gave way to evil and death, throwing all to chaos. To Karl, however, the dark was beauty. The dark brought a mystery to life that one could never truly find in the light. It let men leave their prejudices and inhibitions behind. It gave people true freedom. Just as life thrived in the light, love seemed to thrive in the dark. While it was likely wishful thinking, Karl was used to this type of thought. It was wishful thinking and a yearning for true happiness that had led him this far, and it would be the same thoughts that would drag him to a satisfied end. When the curtains closed, he knew he had something be proud of. Something to call his own. Something he could smile about.\n\nHe sighed softly as the musician beyond the curtain gave his final bows, allowing the sweet notes of his singing slowly fade from the room. A wave of claps and cheers flooded the ballroom before disappearing as soon as they had arrived, giving way to slight silence once again. Silently, light began to peek through the curtains, illuminating the previously darkened stage. Karl didn't dare to gaze up from his seat. He let the light envelop him like the arms of a lover, keeping the eyes behind his mask trained on the lute in his lap. He had opted for a flat, ornate mask this ball, decorated with the themes of a masquerade visor. Yet, it extended down past his lips, hiding his face away from the crowd. Slow notes filled the room as he tuned the instrument in his lap, bringing each string up to match the notes he desired.\n\nWithout looking up, he cleared his throat, moving to address the room. \"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen of Thyseer.\" He spoke, his voice calm and sweet, the amber notes of orange leaves descended from the trees in mid-autumn. \"Thousands of years ago, long before this castle and this very kingdom existed, people roamed the plains of Lucidien, living complex and beautiful lives. Out of the millions, each had their own story to tell, each had their own life, accomplishments, goals, and most importantly, loves. Thousands of years ago, a man sat down to write a song dedicated the love of his life.\" Karl finally looked into the crowd, immediately seeking out the eyes of Caleesi to meet his own visage. Behind the mask, all could see a soft smile flutter onto his lips before he continued, his voice still as sweet as spring rain.\n\n\"Though that man and his love have long been lost to the annals of history, the song he wrote has lived, forging a legacy of love and kinship that lives on today in us all. It is my ultimate pleasure to perform it for you all.\" Standing from the chair, he wrapped his hands around the neck of the lute, walking towards the front of the stage. As his fingers moved to fret the first few notes, he spoke one final time, staring down towards Caleesi with a warm glow. \"In the tune of the great artist who forged this song in the name of his love, I dedicate this song to the only one who's smile shines brighter than the light of the heavens. I hope you enjoy the tune, grandmaster.\" Karl chuckled sweetly, shaking off the embarrassment as he stared down at Caleesi, nodding softly.\n\nA few moments passed before the notes of the lute began to flood the room, filling the ballroom with a sweet and homely glow. Behind Karl, members of the castle's stage band moved to stand, playing the notes of the song that the lute wasn't meant to cover. Karl's voice followed the instruments, filling the room with sweet and loving birdsong.\n\n\"Oró, sé do bheatha abhaile, oró, sé do bheatha abhaile, oró, sé do bheatha abhaile... Anois ar theacht an tsamhraidh...\" He began, starting with the chorus. He worked his way through the song, working in perfect loving unity with the band. He put his heart into the music he played, swaying with the beat of the song as the ballroom flooded into waves of dance. Couples began to sway with each other to the sound of the song, it's folk heart spreading into the crowd with an intoxicating effect. Karl smiled softly, fighting the urge to chuckle in soft embarrassment. He hadn't ever done anything as brash as this before, yet something felt entirely right about it. Perhaps the grandmaster was simply worth the risk. He looked back over to her as she stood in the crowd, staring deep into her blue pools of love and life. He couldn't help but grin as wide as he could, deciding in that moment and that moment alone that she was worth it all." }, { "author": "Caleesi \| Grandmaster of Magic", "message": "Something about the way Caleesi had began to feel as though the blackened eyes of painted faces that hung high above the ballroom walls were silently judging her as she lingered her way around the second floor, casting shadows of moody history, all to be dissected by such a curious individual. High elves were known to be the first elves created within lucidien, though there was something much more intriguing about the eladrin than just being another bloodline of elven lineage. Twisting her neck up to stretch her gaze along the decor, Cali studied each and every mural she could set her sights upon. Truth be told, the young sorceress loved history more than socializing events. Just like any other event gathering when she was a child, Caleesi was always too busy exploring the interior than those around her. Nevertheless, the grandmistress knew that standing around all day with her head towards the sky would get her nowhere in her endeavors to change- and so, with one final glance Cali pressed her heel into the marble floor and turned slowly back towards the massive descending staircase. \n\nAs the high elf took her time stepping down each tile of the grand stairs, Caleesi's mind yet again pondered on the many faces that filled the ballroom below. She wondered if she would see the rest of the Dilitrios family, as she hadn't spent as much time with them as she had hoped for after the late king's passing. Part of Cali felt as though it was her job to console them, but alas, she was only their magic instructor- and maybe that was not the place of a council woman's job to do such a thing. Jumping her icy hues to each head that spun her direction, the she-elf bowed her head respectively as she kept to herself. Still running circles in her mind as to who she could possibly run into- if anyone at this point. While dread was still a sinking anchor pitted within her stomach at the thought of seeing a particular councilman, Cali tried to look at the positive side. \n_ _\n\nShe was at an event of music- something she truly loved and enjoyed. Perhaps this was just the kind of outing she needed to take a breather of sorts, get away from her cursed bedroom, and the endless days of no sleep that came with it. Drawing in a sigh from her lips, Caleesi's glass slipper kissed the bottom of the ballroom floor with a gentle Click. Like many fish in a plentiful sea, the view was much more wide and complex once fully submerged into it yourself. One could truly get lost within the melodies that traveled from the stage and into the ears of attentive participants. In fact, the stage was the first thing Caleesi noticed when lingering off to the side opposite of the dance floor. She watched as performers poured their hearts out over small crowds in favor of cheerful abundance, or simply a rose or two. That in itself causing a small smile to pinch the cheeks of the sorceress. \n\nAs waiters made their rounds in serving their guests, Cali's ears twitched instinctively to footfalls behind her. Without warning, the grandmaster pivoted on her toes to meet the herald behind her- who was quick to stop in their tracks- taken by surprise. Offering a friendly and warm smile, Scarleth surveyed the tray they had to offer before plucking a wine glass of deep, bitter red. Dipping her head in silent thanks as they departed onto the next. Coiling her long, bone white fingers around her gauntlet, Caleesi breathed in the strong aroma of liquid before placing the cool rim of the glass between her plump lips. With her back now turned from the stage however, a new performer had taken the stage. As the crowd fell silent, save for a few whispers here and there, a new tune would enamor the people- Caleesi herself included. \n_ _\n\nTaking a few delicate slips of her drink, an unfamiliar yet- all too well voice struck the eardrums of lady Scarleth. It was a tone reminiscent of firewood. Slowly burning, welcoming, like a flame in the dark. Ever so slowly did Caleesi turn around as the male introduced his stage presence. However, once her eyes settled on the crimson beads that had seemingly already found their way straight towards the female's own- a pursed grin started to grow on Cali's face. It was almost as if her heart had jumped at the sight of the songbird- fluttering around a few paces with joy knowing she had not come fully alone in such a big event. Karl may have only visited her once, but their connection had burned as far back as the history he spoke about as he paraded around the stage he now made his own. \n\n As the two locked gazes no doubt, a soft haze formed across the she-elves face. Her eyes were the blue of every dancing sky, infinite hues illuminated by newborn light that the song bird so graciously provided for her. Taking slow, elegant steps forwards, Caleesi had managed to waltz her way right up towards the end of the stage floor- drink still in hand as if it were her only partner of choice while others held their loved ones close. Tilting her head upwards all the while Karl inched his way out towards the crowd, Cali's smile only brightened by the bard's sweet coated words. A genuine giggle sang out from the grandmaster as she shook her head playfully back- hiding her now rosey cheeks against the cool face of her gauntlet as Caleesi crossed one of her arms across her chest sheepishly. \n_ _\n\nPerhaps it was just the performer's charm to sway their audiences in their favor, and just maybe Karl was speaking truthfully from his heart when he complimented such a feature of the high elf that she hadn't really thought about in many, many years. That smile however, was growing painfully wider by the minute as the song bird began his tune. The rhythmic strum of his lute left just about everyone moving along with him, and once the help of the band joining in- the thumping of drums set a blazing melody that reverberated in the chest of each and every soul present. Caleesi couldn't help but play along with the music, gently bobbing her head in encouragement as she listened with loving eyes up at her dear friend singing. While those around her had a partner to joyously dance with, the grandmistress didn't mind the solitude as she stood in the middle of the crowd. After all, she was able to see the legendary songbird perform- just like her parents talked about many years ago...\n_ _\n\nIt was easy to see why Karl was such a beloved figure within Alynthi, and perhaps all around lucidien. The way the shapeshifter could sway a crowd and carry a tune was simply beautiful. Caleesi knew that if her mother and father were still alive today, they would have cherished moments like this no doubt. Still idle in her place among the crowd however, Cali took note of the bashfulness rising in Karl's demeanor. Training her warm lit hues along the males figure, the she-elf did her best to comfort him by lighting his own mood- With the wave of her free hand, the sorceress conjured the same Starling that she had formed the night the two had met- It's translucent figure flying in circles within the air before resting on the shoulder of Cali as she plucked the ends of her dress within her hand and swayed them side by side. Being that the woman had become far more shy when it came to dancing in large crowds.. She decided then and there that the song bird was worth showing her gratitude and appreciation. \n\|\|" }, { "author": "Lysanthir Tauriel Olagwyen, Master of Laws \| Lazaroth", "message": "Laughs in mister steal yo girl" } ]	1,107.5	3,823
974.666667	2022-12-15	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "The Tale Weaver", "message": "Once the great Iron King had taken his leave of the stage, yet another herald took his place. Allowing the crowd to mingle for but a moment longer, the well dressed man cleared his throat and began his announcement, \"Now, ladies and gentleman, we have a special treat for you all arranged by our dear Princess Delsandra.\" Extending his hand to the eladrin princess that was standing near the back of the ballroom beneath the farther balcony, which the woman subsequently returned a wave to the crowd before returning to her relaxed pose. \n\nThe herald then continued, \"Princess Delsandra has decided to offer a demonstration of the waltz for your viewing and learning pleasure, though not by her own hand. Instead, someone has offered to do the honors for her grace.\" Dipping his head towards the princess, the herald then finished, \"Introducing Lord Lysanthir Tauriel Olagwyen, Law Master of Lazaroth.\" As the man spoke the vampire's name, it was clear he was a bit nervous to do so. Many hushed whispers and gasps filled the air at such an announcement, but soon, the man himself emerged from the stage dressed in a blood red suit." }, { "author": "Lysanthir Tauriel Olagwyen, Master of Laws \| Lazaroth", "message": "Stepping out from the stage, Lysanthir took in a heavy breath and exhaled shakily. It had been far too long since he had been seen so publicly. Every eye was on him. At least at Findara's Thunder Fest many paid him no mind or simply didn't know who he was, but now the entire room would be watching. As the herald stepped away and gave Lysanthir the floor, he stepped forward at the front center of the stage. Two thousand years ago and this would be a breeze, but now Lysanthir felt as though his heart and head were both about to burst. Collecting his thoughts, the lord knew he had to push through it, if only to be close to Her.\n\nIt had been a gift from the gods that Princess Delsandra had allowed him to do this, let alone perform yet again later in the evening. Nevertheless, Lysanthir wouldn't pass up the opportunity. Perhaps performing as he did so long ago would help with- well, whatever the hell was going on with him lately. It had been miserable, and the Gods knew he'd been neglecting his duties as Lazaroth's Master of Laws. Trying his best to keep his gaze off of Caleesi, Lysanthir quietly sighed before speaking. \"Good evening, ladies and gentleman. Princess Delsandra has graciously allowed me within her walls to present to you a demonstration of an age old dance known as the waltz.\"\n_ _\n\nSlowly but surely, the vampire descended from the stage onto the greater floor of the ballroom. Many began to back away and clear the floor, though one would have difficulty deciding if it was out of fear or respect. Standing at the center of the crowd, Lysanthir waved his hand gently, a candle appearing in his hand. \"The dance itself is not complicated. The following dancer places themselves slightly to the left of the lead and then its six simple steps one after the other.\" With the candle in hand, Lysanthir began walking around the newly formed center of the crowd, eyeing each person he passed. \"However, the true test to the perfect waltz is for it to be so swift and so smooth that a candle's flame will not be extinguished in the hand of the lead dancer.\" The moment he stopped speaking, the candle wick lit aflame. Eyeing it for a short moment, silence fell over the vampire as he contemplated his next step.\n\nThere was no turning back now.\n\n\"Such a delicate performance, however, requires the perfect dance partner.\" Eyeing the crowd, Lysanthir's eyes fell upon Caleesi who was standing next to her bird companion Karl. Not even offering the man so much as a glance, Lysanthir's icy gaze was instead fixated on the Grandmistress, his eyes much softer than their first encounter at Thunder Fest. She was a visage of pure perfection and grace, one that Lysanthir had felt drawn to since the moment he laid eyes upon her in Findara. The thought of Calitherien appeared in his mind, and all he could see was her standing before him. It was hard not to be so drawn to Caleesi. After all, she was a spitting image of his lost wife, but was this fixation just a delusion? Was this nothing more than more torment for him to endure?\n\nPerhaps it was a chance instead, to be the man he failed to be for someone he cared greatly for. Approaching slowly, Lysanthir held out his free gloved hand for the lady to take, his voice calm and welcoming. \"Would you be mine, Lady Scarleth?\"" }, { "author": "Caleesi \| Grandmaster of Magic", "message": "Lingering within the company of Karl for as long as she could, Caleesi's attention would yet again be pulled away by another act yet to unfold. So far, all the musical performances that had started off the festival had been nothing short of spectacular- each one having their own unique touch to them that moved every soul to the rhythm of their desired tune. As the herald upon the stage began prepping the next guest however, Cali's eyes surveyed the peculiar look in his eyes when they caught the light. He seemed... Frightened. Of course, it didn't take much for the vampire to pick up distinctive details. She could sense fear just as she could smell it- by honing in her sharpened senses, Lady Scarleth could even Hear The beads of sweat on someone's skin as they formed droplets onto the floor. With a narrowed expression hardening on the grandmistress face, Caleesi had completely zoned into the servant upon the stage. Examining his sheepish posture he tried so well to hide. \n_ _\n\nWhen the herald announced the arrival of Princess Delsandra however, almost every head shifted in unison to look over at the Thyseerian royal. Her presence held a stiffness to the air, as many bowed their heads in respect to the woman who was surprisingly lurking within the shadows. As Cali shifted her head to follow suit, she couldn't help but feel the bubbling heat of Delsandra's eyes burning into her- the pair locking eyes within seconds. One could call it a gut feeling, but Caleesi could tell there was something off about that eladrin. Despite it all- the high elf simply returned the awkward exchange with a no lipped smile. Her chin gracefully dipping to show a sign of mutual respect. The announcer's voice trailed back to the crowd, only this time more noticeably shaken up by each word he forced from his throat. With the way the man had started his speech, it would have seemed as though the princess was to lead the opening act with a dance of her own. However, what came next brought a pang of shock to not only Lady Scarleth herself- but every other guest within the radius of the heralds words. \n_ _\n\n'Lord Lysanthir Tauriel Olagwyen'. What an eerie ring it had as it slid down Caleesi's spine, penetrating her cold bones like a stab to the heart. The shock alone of vampires arrival made an audible gasp fumble from the woman's throat- but as the Master of Laws emerged from the stage.. Caleesi physically buckled. Gripping onto the songbirds arm for support, Scarleth stumbled backwards one small pace, her wide eyes never leaving the bright red suit. There was a pain of disbelief written all across the woman's face as her mouth was left agape. No words leaving them, just simply, frozen. \n\nWhat possessed Delsandra to allow such a.. \n Monster. Was he a monster..? Being a vampire surely set the line for Caleesi, but then again she would be hypocritical to herself. Lying Too. If she could justify herself as not a monster, then what was to say the same for him? Cali felt far more safer within the sea of bodies surrounding her- as well as Karl by her side, which allowed the grandmistress to ground herself from any anxious outbursts. Steadily, the high elf watched as Lysanthir entered the spotlight. His blood red attire seemingly swallowed the crowd whole with just how eye catching it was. Questions upon questions rose within the sorceress the more she consumed Olagwyen from afar... Why would He Be demonstrating tonight's dance? Certainly the man must know how but- wasn't he with a cane? Darting her eyes around, Caleesi swept over Lysan's form as he walked. There was little to no hint of a limp within his strut- leaving cause for concern and doubt about the councilor as a whole. A twitch of anger bit the forefront of Lady Scarleths brow, the night of the fireworks now flooding back to her. Who was he truly..?\n_ _\n\nOnce the reverberating sound of Lord Olagwyen's voice carried through the air, everyone within the ballroom floor fell silent. Perhaps it was the fact a vampire was let among them, or perhaps it was the simple fact that Lysanthir had a way of speaking. His tone a low register of inky shadows that could easily wrap around one's soul- Demanding. Commanding, but somehow still carried a melody of softness between each line. As Caleesi bore witness to the elvens conduction of the history of waltz- her mind shifted from the questions and anger she was so bitterly holding onto. Waltzing was a cultured part of the Scarleths history. Traditions for each style was often celebrated within her district, and by the gods did Caleesi know each one. Step for step. However.. Listening to just how much the lawman knew of a dance as old as he... It put an odd perspective on the man known for being a 'monster.'\n\nChills invaded Caleesi's pale skin upon the High Lord's departure from the stage. As everyone else was still just as wary as she, an oddly formed circle was unironically made to clear the floor. Shuffling back along with the songbird by her side, Cali couldn't keep her eyes off of Lysanthir for whatever damned reason. She felt as though she had been locked in some sort of trance, once again, not of her will. The way Lysnathir held the crowd at his mercy was magical within itself however- as many other guests shared the same fate as Lady Scarleth. Frozen and starstruck. Like a predator stalking it's prey, the High Lord lingered 'round. His broad yet slow strides gripping the attention of every man and woman he brushed past. At times, Cali found herself getting lost in the mannerisms of Olagwyen rather than his words. Those bright, cold eyes danced around the crowd as if he knew exactly how to sway them. It was almost terrifying, his confidence. \n_ _\n\nNevertheless, when he had started to come to a close, Caleesi noticed just how close Lysanthir was to heading her way. A stir of what felt like wild leaves anxiously climbed within the high elf's chest as he began to approach her, causing Cali to lock up at the joints. Flexing her jaw to the primitive words he drew, Lady Scarleth fought the urge to look anywhere But Lysanthir- His daunting presence making itself known as his leather boots stopped directly in front of her. The grandmistress couldn't help the way her breath began to soften. Hushed, quiet inhales of sharp air staggered her nose as she did her best to regain control of her nerves- but alas, they were taken over by the heavy scent of warm musk in black and white. Imbued with hints of ichor and rain. It was eerily familiar, though Cali didn't have the time to ponder on it- because before she knew it, the man's hand was outstretching for her. \n\nCaleesi's pale blue eyes shot up to meet the icy mountains of Lysnathir's. The two undoubtedly shared a silent moment so strong- it felt as though his shadowed soul was binding her right then and there. Nevertheless, to the High Lord's offer, Cali's gaze only hardened. Her eyes narrowing in response as she pursed her lips together spitefully. \"Oh, Surely not me, i don't think that i would make your presentation- But I'm sure Princess Delsandra would be delighted to.\" It was in those brief moments that the sorceress's eyes threw daggers behind the vampire's shoulder and straight into the eladrin princess's own. A fiery remark that held weight within her words for the Thyseerian. Lysanthir was brave in asking such an invitation to the woman he borderline harassed. Part of Caleesi was shocked by it herself- her eyes still swimming questionably in his. Why would he ask to dance with her out of all people? Did the Lawman even know if she could? Surely he wouldn't proceed to ask her twice... But if he did, How could she say no?\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "This one again. Had Delsandra learned nothing from Thunder Fest? Or was she simply being malicious towards them in ways they knew not, orchestrating this sort of thing in front of their eyes so that there would be some sort of conflict for her to seize upon and then use in some way? Astalios knew not, but as the announcement hit his ears that the man to follow him was the same that had made advances on Caleesi at the festival and reminded her so strongly of her parents' death, his legs sprung into action, and he was already forging his way forwards through the crowd of people as the creature made his appearance. \n\nHollow words about a simple dance had drifted through his ears as he kept his own eyes on the destination - for he had been sure that Lysanthir's aim was to be shifted from teaching a crowd to a very specific dance partner, one of his choosing, and one that for some reason he had a fixation with. What was it about her that he so desired? His experiences as a statesman were certainly sufficient enough to put him in contact with people that had enough sense to advise him not to engage. For Devinah's sake, the man was Master of Laws. Did he not know how people worked?\n\nThrough the flurry of dresses and fabric Astalios made his way, the golden sabatons and heavy gold-antlered crown adorning him, shining like a gilded sun in the ballroom. A duty had revealed itself, clear and present, and though he was far from Lady Scarleth at the moment, a duty he would fulfil. The metaphor, he noted offhand, was weak at best. He had read about waltzes, and as a child he had learned them. Though his steps were never clean, and his dancing instruction had faded, he knew there had been fast waltzes and slow, a friendly dance or a coordinated effort, not simply captured in one particular jape about a candle. The song set the tone for much of it - and he doubted that the creature that made his way down towards his Mistress of Magic would choose a light or upbeat tune.\n\n_ _\nSo what was a man to do? He moved forward, nearing the spot as Lysanthir's gloved hand reached out for Caleesi to take, and he extended an offer that was an implication in its own right - that he would not simply take the hint proffered to him among the fireworks, the guard detail that he had offered her, the silver stag given as a ward. No, now this was going far enough that it required some measure of intervention. In a party setting, it did not have to be a draw of a sword or dagger, but there were words one could use as weapons - courtesy was its own set of tools.\n\nSo it was that Astalios broke the ring of onlookers calmly, like a ship's prow emerging from a wave, and met the eyes of Lysanthir first, so focused on his mistress of magic, then Karl's behind his mask, then Caleesi's, those blue chips of ice. His were only a muddy brown like silt at the bottom of a pond, but they were filled with enough purpose for him to act, and carried with them the weight to avoid being ignored by a foreign minister. His sympathy went to the songbird, but a heavier hand was needed at the moment.\n\n'Surely Princess Delsandra would be delighted'. That one almost brought a smile to his face as he took the final step, appearing finally at her shoulder.\n\n\"Indeed.\" His voice rang like a deep bell in concurrence with Caleesi's, cutting through whatever spell remained between them for the moment. His face was impassive as ever, as if it had been carved from stone, immovable as rock. \"I bid you enjoy your dance with the Princess - I have heard tell she is quite excellent at the waltz, and would be an appropriate choice for a demonstration, given that she is our gracious host.\"\n\nHe turned, then, giving Lysanthir no more attention than he was due, and extended his own hand to his Mistress of Magic, a polite nod of the head towards her accompanying the golden-armored gauntlet that extended in askance, offering a small change of scenery, one that was beyond contestation.\n\n_ _\n\"If you wish, my lady. I am afraid that my dancing is as rusty as I am, but I shall attempt my best.\" He offered, voice clear and confident, brow set in consternation as he wondered what was the way to proceed. There was a time when he had known the waltz backwards and forwards, but that had been what seemed like a lifetime ago, and he had learned a different dance in his later youth, the song of bowstrings and steel on steel. \n\nIt was not likely to help in a ballroom, but everywhere courtesy could be applied, so too could honor, and easing the situation was something he knew how to do well." }, { "author": "Lysanthir Tauriel Olagwyen, Master of Laws \| Lazaroth", "message": "Furrowing his brow in disappointment to Caleesi's reaction, he could feel and smell her fear a mile away. Her words only deepened his expression, but the approaching footfalls of another man sent a shockwave of fire through Lysanthir's bones. King Astalios Dilitrios. Without so much as allowing the vampire to reply, the Iron King had already laid claim over a dance with Caleesi, causing Lysanthir's gloved hand to recoil back to his side. Still holding the candle in the other, the vampire's expression darkened significantly, though he kept his eyes from turning as red as his suit as best he could. The stag and bat's eyes met for but a moment, Lysanthir resisting every urge in his mind to send the king backwards into a wall. How dare he interrupt them, publicly no less. A king, but still a child.\n\n\"I believe if Princess Delsandra wished to dance with me, she would have told me when we arranged this, your majesty.\" Dipping his head ever so slightly in respect, Lysanthir had to keep up appearances, less he wished a war to break out in Thyseer's ballroom. The onlookers watched in stun silence, and poor Caleesi was now stuck between two of the most powerful men in the room, both wishing for her hand to dance. Looking to where the eladrin princess had been standing, she was still there, but instead of approaching to aid the king in saving poor Caleesi, she watched on, sipping a glass of wine idly and seeming to have no intention of approaching. \"My dear Iron King-..\"\n\n_ _\nLysanthir's eyes dragged over to Astalios as he turned his back to the vampire. Rage coursed through the man, but on the outside not a hair, expression or hand was out of place. Instead, he looked as calm and collected as the king himself, \"-perhaps we should allow the lady to choose, hm? After all, I dare say I asked Lady Scarleth, not Princess Delsandra. A man who's as, as you put it, Rusty As yourself at the waltz should likely not be the demonstrator, hm?\" Turning his hardened gaze back to Caleesi, his eyes noticeably softened, the hard look in his brow doing the same. It was hard to find the right words to avoid offending the king enough to garner a more violent or forceful response or reaction, but Lysanthir refused to miss this opportunity to be close to Caleesi, whether the Iron King liked it or not.\n\nStepping to the side of Astalios and remaining in front of Caleesi, Lysanthir turned to look at the king, his eyes dull with boredom. \"I promise to return her to you in one piece your majesty.\" Dipping his head with a respectful bow once more, Lysanthir just knew the waters he was treading were as treacherous as ever. Queen Runacri was likely watching the entire thing, which was probably not helping with her hym issue at all. The man's brow furrowed a bit as he waited for an answer, the candle in his hand still lit and waiting. His ice-blue eyes almost looked even lighter than usual when they fell upon Caleesi once more, but depending on her answer perhaps his night in Thyseer would end sooner than expected.\n\nSo now it fell upon Caleesi. Would she accept the king's offer or Lysanthir's? The crowd began murmering, and rumors and whispers began flying to and fro like birds in spring. Who was Caleesi to either of them? What of the man the she-elf had just finished dancing with? Lysanthir could hear each and every word, the rumors only making him wish this encounter would be over soon." }, { "author": "Caleesi \| Grandmaster of Magic", "message": "A sense of pridefulness leveled out in Caleesi's chest as she watched Lysanthir's hopeful expression melt away. Something about the dissatisfaction of a man who thought he played his cards right only to be told the simple words of 'no'. It was satisfying for the young she-elf. Challenging the hardened glare that formed within Lord Olagwyen's iris, Cali narrowed her expression even further. Her fits balling to catch her growing claws in the flesh of her pale skin. Tensions were growing, but why? What were his motives? It was hard to tell, as Lysan had an unremarkable poise and control to his demeanor. Before the two could even begin to fight further however- a distinguished sound of armor sliding against each other clanked up behind Cali- closing her space even further from all sides. All that pride and self control began to wither the moment Lady Scarleth heard the sharp tone of her King speak out. A mixture of embarrassment, anxiousness, and even anger swelled within the woman's stomach. Climbing its way to her throat. It was understandable for Astalios to assert himself within the ongoings of his people, as he was her King. However, there was nothing more Caleesi hated than men speaking on her behalf- King or not.\n_ _\n\nPart of Cali wanted to stop Astalios right then and there, as she knew she could hold her own. But more importantly- she wanted to show her King that. Alas, this was not the time nor the place- as appearances must be kept in such a setting. Perhaps she would have a word with him back home. Even still, Caleesi hated the hole she had found herself in. Even more so that it involved the thing she was weary of most– Men. Now stuck between two of them, heat was rising against the grandmistress's cheeks. Her mind was racing just as quickly as her heart within her chest, hearing nothing but the many whispers surrounding her. Plummeting her glance to the floor, the high elf swallowed the lump that stuck in her throat. It would be an embarrassing show to carry on such petty argument, and this Was The High Lord's demonstration... 'Oh Caleesi.. What have you gotten yourself into.' Scarleth thought to herself, slinking in her shoulders ever so slightly. The air around her felt as though it was suffocating her, thickening between the two bodies of dominant male figures.\n_ _\n\nWhen Lysanthir spoke up to King Astailos, saying exactly what she was thinking, it surprised Caleesi enough to look back up towards him. She saw the way he looked at the stag, so harsh and precise with his words. Yet, when the vampire shifted his gaze back towards the sorceress... There was no anger. Just simply a longing not even she could understand. Blinking away the bitterness within her stare, Cali lifted her chin up towards the High Lord. Weighing his words with the most caution. Somehow... He was right. What harm could a dance truly do? Lingering a moment within the hushed silence, Caleesi hovered her gaze between the open flame in Lysanthirs candled hand before she took a step to the side away from both men. The cool of the spacious air filling her lungs as she casted a look towards Astailos. Within the woman's ocean blues swam a promising light, as much as she would have liked to cower away from this crowd, she did not want to ruin a night meant for everyone. Even if that Everyone Meant Lysanthir. \"I will be fine, your Majesty. Let's not spoil the night, no? \" The grandmistress murmured quietly, dipping her head in the form of an apology that still held respect. \n_ _\n\nNow turning back to the massive figure before her, Caleesi drew in a long sigh through her nose. Straightening out her posture, relaxing her shoulders, as well as keeping her chin held high, the counselor went to offer her hand to the High Lord. However, once she realized the reality of what she was doing... She hesitated for only a moment. Something grimy familiar about this.. It all felt off. Nevertheless, Cali pushed her fears aside and slipped her small hand into the visibly larger glove. Stepping forwards with the vampire as they moved to the center of the ballroom. The size difference between Lysnathir and Lady Scarleth was quite the show in itself. Truth be told, when the myth of vampires spread about, they never truly focused on the factor of growth spurts. As it was found true when you die in your mortal form, you stop aging as a vampire. For Caleesi, this meant she remained still short and youthful as her young body did, leaving her to constantly dress in heels to try and mask her vampirism in any way she could. \n\nEven so, with how close up and personal the high elf was to Lord Olagwyen, she couldn't help but realize just how tall he truly was. Biting down on her cheek, Cali awaited for the demonstration to begin. Her eyes unable to look at the crowd simply due to the thousands of whispers that invaded her ears. She hated the feeling of prying eyes upon her, and it was made apparent by the light tinted pink that now coated her cheeks and nose. So, the grandmistress fluttered her gaze around the fabric along Lysanthir's chest. Hoping he wouldn't embarrass her further. However, one thought was eating at the woman, so much so that Caleesi found herself too angry by it to not say anything. \"Did Delsandra set you up to this?\" The high elf asked, her weary blue hues shooting up towards the Lawmen. \"There were hundreds of other women you could have chosen, Lord Olagwyen.. Why me?\" \n\|\|" } ]	921.5	5,848
1,028	2022-12-16	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "To him, the choice had seemed obvious - and he had even promised, at their last meeting between the three, to do something to keep him off Caleesi's back, to make sure that he was not derelict in his duty to one of his ministers, and they had made that particular meeting at Thunder Fest, where the man's advances had been detestable to her. What had changed from then until now? The last he had thought, she detested the vampire that had swept in and made unwanted gestures, but she was now abandoning the plans that had been laid in favor of dancing with him.\n\nIt was as if the ship of thought had sailed into a fog bank and come back out in a completely different direction - some unforeseen twist or turn had occurred which had made things change. Now the atmosphere between them was nothing like it had been, and for some incomprehensible reason, she had actually agreed to dance with the man. His eyes narrowed in confusion, and he was somewhat taken aback - had something, some enemy spell, taken hold of her mind? What was incongruous between then and now?\n\nHe had no idea. By all rights, if she had detested the man, then she would not have agreed to dance with him - it was not the responsibility of Alynthi to guarantee a minister a dance partner, nor was it her obligation to agree to do something she was uncomfortable. But despite her previous answer - despite him hearing her say that surely she would not be the one to dance with him just the moment prior, she was making the choice on her own, and he could not object to something she chose.\n\n\"If you are certain.\" He murmured back, still trying to ascertain the reason for this. He gave her a nod and stood aside as she mounted the stage with the monster she had run from in every instance prior, and his gaze followed them in the utter confusion that had come over him - it seemed so nonsensical. But, he supposed, they were about to see a dance demonstration. And if something truly wrong happened, he would be there.\n\n_ _\nAfter all, the distance between the stage and where they had been was only a matter of a few yards - a small amount of time for an arrow or a crossbow bolt to fly, not to mention the stag that could leap into action should he wish it. The circlet the man wore, rings around fingers of onlookers...\n\nThere was time enough to react, he supposed - and this was worth watching. He hoped that she would be all right - after all, at Thunder Fest, she had been practically shaking, her voice wavering, a shout of desperation issuing from her lips. He did not want to see a repeat performance of that particular night for her - had he been no one to her and she no one to him, there would still be a concern as a man and as a decent person to see that distress was minimized...\n\nAnd this was something to monitor, to be certain. For the moment, he stood back with a watchful eye and made no moves." }, { "author": "Lysanthir Tauriel Olagwyen, Master of Laws \| Lazaroth", "message": "Lysanthir's heart began to sink further and further into his chest, though his demeanor remained as confident as ever. On the inside though, the poor man knew Caleesi would choose King Astalios over himself, and now he was coming to grips with that fact mentally. Looking to Caleesi however, he noticed the pink that kissed her cheeks, and the now determined and irritated look in her eyes. What was she thinking? Then, the she-elf spoke. Lysanthir's eyes lit up with delight, though less at the expense of the king and more at the fact that the vampire had been chosen over the stag. No smile emerged on his lips however, instead a respectful nod towards the king and Caleesi. Without a word, the moment the she-elf's hand met his he gently tugged her away to the center of the room for all to see.\n\nSo close was he yet again to his prize, just as he was night's prior. Though, only he knew of this interaction they had shared, for if Caleesi knew she surely would have declined the offer, or even had Lysanthir arrested or outed for his crime. Looking down at the significantly smaller woman, Lysanthir gently placed his right hand in her left and held them upward as he began to take the position a lead dancer should. \"Do you really believe a woman such as Delsandra would ever allow me to so much as touch her?\" Lysanthir said coolly, his left hand coming to rest at the woman's side and around her. Looking over to the musicians waiting for their cue, a simple nod from Lysanthir and a piano began to play a soft melody. A violin soon followed, then a cello. They had yet to begin dancing however, and the candle the vampire had lit earlier now rest neatly between the couple's clasped hands.\n\n_ _\nHer inquiry as to why the lord chose him however caused Lysanthir's face to darken, but now out of anger. Instead, he looked a bit embarrassed. \"I-... Well, in truth my lady I wished to apologize for my actions in Findara.\" The music slowly began to build all three musicians drew their instruments to silence, and in that brief moment Lysanthir allowed his eyes to meet Caleesi's fully, his voice hushed ever so slightly, \"A lady such as yourself, Caleesi, does not deserve such mistreatment.\" Before the woman could respond, the music picked up once more, and their waltz began. Quickly but as smooth as butter the two began to waltz around the open space, the music filling the thick air and almost clearing it of all the whispers and stares the two elves were receiving. The music itself was hopeful but longing all at once, its gentle but fast melody perfect for the demonstration.\n\nTheir night shared in Findara was an accident, Lysanthir was aware of this. How could he know that Caleesi would bring on such terrible but longing memories of his late wife Calitherien? In this moment here and now, it was if he were dancing with her once again, but that illusion his mind had conjured up of a mask over Caleesi's face of his wife was slowly starting to disappear. The true, the real Caleesi began to peak through, and truth be told Lysanthir wasn't fully aware on how to handle it. Powering through the raw emotion in his chest, the vampire soon realized he had never fully accepted his wife's death, or the fact he didn't die alongside her. Instead, he was forced to live a life of immortality and servitude to a lust he never would have asked for if given the choice.\n\n_ _\nAll those memories of Calitherien coalesced into this moment, and like wall falling to canons, so too did the mask of Calitherien over Caleesi. Not fully, not yet, as Lysanthir was still grasping this reality. The reality in which Calitherien had died thousands of years ago. The reality that Lysanthir's heart longed to move forward to. Now, it was only his mind stopping him." }, { "author": "Caleesi \| Grandmaster of Magic", "message": "Caleesi felt as though she were holding her breath for years while the pair got into position for their demonstration. The overpowering scent of Lord Lysanthir was enough to suffocate her, although it had seemed to mesmerize her even more so when the High Lord slipped his arm around her- pulling her into his hold and locking her in. Delicately, Cali rested her hand within the vampires, her palm just barely brushing the candle they held together. Wavering her eyes to the flame, the she-elf's expression rekindled a spark of warmth that was long forgotten- a memory of loathing. Of home. Countless times, the High Lady practiced this technique, with her mother, her father, even her butlers should she beg them enough. Dancing was a part of Caleesi's life before her demise... When she changed, however, there wasn't much thought of ever picking it back up again. Yet here she was, swept up within the arms of another vampire.\n\nSwallowing her distant stare away, Caleesi's skin quivered at the feeling of Lysnathirs hand tracing her back. She did her best not to succumb to the way her body reacted-Stiffening up in response as she blinked away the wide look in her eyes. His grip on her was no less gentle as it was demanding. There was a sense of security sure, but the way he held her so closely... It was almost as if she knew it before. Slowly, Cali dragged her face back up to meet the High Lords, staring down the chilling set of eyes searching through her own. No smile sat upon Lysanthirs face, although in the few times ever seeing him, Caleesi wondered if he ever had before. He was always in a state of constant brooding. Thinking or plotting- it didn't make a difference, all the high elf knew was that he was impossible to read. \n_ _\n\nNevertheless, as the music started to introduce itself to the crowd, Caleesi's long elven ears could be seen jumping in response. She quickly took a troubled head spin around her, a sense of panic flooding her azure hues. What if she messes up? In truth, it had been years since the grandmistress had done a proper waltz. The need to be perfect for such a demonstration? It wasn't an easy task to have weighing on your shoulders. There were still a few moments left before the song would take off, but before Caleesi could get any other words out, Lysanthirs voice bellowed into her ears like a warm wave of sweeping sand. To his first inquire, Scarleth found herself almost cracking a smile. With the way he made it sound, it almost seemed as though the man felt the same way about Delsandra that she did. Perhaps it was a vampire's intuition. Nevertheless, it still begged the question as to why he would think Caleesi would allow him to touch her- His hands wrapping even tighter around her waist as seconds drained before they would start. \n_ _\n\n\"I'm Surprised she even let you here at all. You should have seen the way she acted during ThunderFest- That woman wanted your head on a silver platter if it wasn't for me to stop her.\" Shaking her head ever so slightly, Caleesi lowered her sights back towards the center of Olagwyen's chest. Recalling the fire that burned so chaotically within Princess Delsandras eyes, it was rather worrisome to know that one day she could very well become Queen. Regardless of the eladrins behavior, what Lysanthir said next brought a sinking feeling to Cali's stomach. After such a terrifying night... He wanted to apologize? There was a much softer glance to the high elfs gaze as she fixed her sights back up to the vampire, her eyes searching over his face for any reason as to why. While no hardened expression lied upon the High Lords perfectly sculpted face, Caleesi could see the twinge of regret and humiliation that formed at the center of his brows. Elongating a slight frown from his usual flattened lips.\n\n_ _\nIt all Seemed Genuine. Though it did come as a shock to the sorceress, she didn't find his words disingenuous. Becoming reeled in by such a different side of the man, Cali's lips parted curiously as she observed Lysan. She could tell he was almost struggling to say what he truly wanted to, and that in itself made her all the more interested in what he had to say. Leaning forwards when the elven man inclined his head to her however, the warmth of Lysanthir's breath caressed her ears just like it had within a dream she had not long ago... It was hard to differentiate the way Lord Olagwyen's actions differed from his words. He could have spoken in riddles of silk and honey, meaning every word, but his body language said otherwise. There was an intimidating factor to him, that perhaps was the main cause in misleading his true intentions- Nevertheless, Caleesi did her best to accept them. If not to cause a scene for the sake of the event. Her bright blue eyes remained wide as she looked up towards the vampire, speechless as if he had struck her with awe. But before the woman could get anything out, the loud chime of the orchestra picked up for the final time; and it would seem the show was to begin.\n_ _\n\nHesitantly, Cali brushed her free hand up the side of the Law Master's arm until it rested perfectly against his massive, broad shoulder. Her back staying perfectly straight into the curve of his hand as the pair took off in wide strides around the ballroom. The grandmistress's torso was pressed up firmly against Lysanthirs chest- though no heartbeat from him could have been felt. Only her own. Nervously, Caleesi darted her glance around the crowd, anxious to see the faces of strangers and what they would think of her. Unknowingly, Scarleth squeezed the shoulder of the High Lord as they waltzed around. Her feet sweeping the floor in an effortless motion as he led her around the ballroom with ease. The ends of her white lace dress trailing behind her as it danced within the air of each twirl and turn. While she may have appeared confident, Caleesi was internally panicking. The fear of failure crawling into the sides of her mind like black shadows she had imagined in the dream before- but then..\n\nSomething clicked. \n_ _\n\nThe way that the Law Master had been so carefully holding her, insuring she was following the dominant footing of his leads as they traced perfect squares. His scent, that never died down from it's intoxicating pull it had. Calming- As if she could have been devoured by it whole. Leaving nothing but the two of them in an eternal darkness. Quickly, Cali's eyes shot back to Lysanthir, her brow twisting in a confused thought as she quietly blurted out. \"I... I think i had a Dream About you..\" She whispered, her expression melting into a bit of a shock. Still swaying effortlessly along the ballroom floor, nothing but the sound of music filled the woman's ears as she lost herself in the depths of Lord Olagwyens icy hues. There was an eerie familiarity they carried to them, almost as if she had seen them on more than just one occasion. The background around the man soon would become a mesh of a blur, as her gaze became more and more fixated on just what she was trying so desperately to believe. It had to have just been a coincidence.. Right?\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Lysanthir Tauriel Olagwyen, Master of Laws \| Lazaroth", "message": "_ _The mention of Delsandra's rage did not come as a surprise to the lord, and in a fleeting second his eyes darted over to where she stood on the outside of the crowd now around the two dancers. Those piercing yellow-orange eyes stabbed like daggers at him, but there was a smile upon her face. Perhaps it was the eladrin Caleesi should fear, not Lysanthir... \n\nThough, Caleesi mentioning she had stood up for Lysanthir, or at the very least eluding to it, make Lysanthir's heart light up. What had she said? What did she do to illicit such a powerful princess as Delsandra to not do what she wished to do? It was strange. If Caleesi had felt so uncomfortable or even scared of the vampire, why not let the Princess of Fire burn him away? He felt a warmth regardless, one he had not felt in a very long time. It only made the man wish to be closer to Caleesi, less physically however. Lysanthir wished to know just who Lady Scarleth was.\n\nAs the two began to danced within the cleared circle, the crowd around them still carried on with their hushed remarks, though more were simply enjoying the demonstration. Lysanthir's eyes fell back down upon Caleesi's, and it was then he noticed just how nervous she was. The vampire's grip remained around the she-elf, but loosened to give her as much breathing room as she could have, even with the two so close. The music playing was beautiful, a perfect selection for a demonstration such as this. It matched the pace Lysanthir set perfectly, and each movement almost seemed to match each hum cello, whine of the violin and ring of the piano. The two almost seemed to flow round and round like a whirlpool in the ocean, their movement as fluid as the sea.\n\n_ _\nThough, Caleesi's nervousness did come as a bit of a surprise to the vampire. Of course, the anxiety she felt around him was one he had felt before, but the feeling of her emotions now was different. It felt more... Immediate, as if she were afraid to mess up a step or spin. Opening his mouth, Lysanthir spoke in a hushed tone once more, \"You're dance beautifully, Lady Scarleth.\" The man didn't even seem to be out of air with how fast they were moving, but as was the life and stamina of a vampire. Hoping his words would calm her worry, the two continued on, spinning 'round the ballroom as if the world around them was gone. At least, to Lysanthir it was. It was only he and Caleesi in this moment, which was all that mattered. Could one go as far as to say Lysanthir was in love? No. \n\nLysanthir was in love with a memory. But that memory was slowly fading from his view. \n\nNow, the Caleesi everyone else knew was slowly revealing herself to the Master of Laws, and the pain Lysanthir felt in his chest was so agonizingly similar to the pain he felt when he watched his wife exhale her last. Refusing to allow that memory plague his mind any longer, Lysanthir mentally thanked the Gods when Caleesi spoke again, but that relief was quickly replaced by ever so slight panic. All Caleesi would feel or see was a twitch at Lysanthir's left hand, the one wrapped around her back. Remaining calm and collected, the vampire replied, \"Is dreaming of Lazaroth councilors normal for you, Lady Scarleth?\" The inflection in his voice was one of ever so slight amusement, but there was still no smile upon his face. It would take a lot more to get a man such as he to crack a smile.\n\n_ _\nAround the two elves went, all eyes in the room on them, but that painful feeling was returning once more. Speak to her more. It disappears when you do, Lysan. Ushering himself mentally to speak yet again, Lysanthir changed topics of the dream quickly to avoid Caleesi figuring anything out, as well as to rid himself of the mourning he felt in his chest. \"I believe it is my turn to ask a question.\" Pausing for only a moment, Lysanthir glanced over to Astalios who only seemed to have the same glare Delsandra did, but was significantly better at hiding it. \"Why choose me over King Dilitrios? I'm sure he was a surprised as I was when you did so.\"" }, { "author": "Caleesi \| Grandmaster of Magic", "message": "Feeling the loosened grip from the high lord, Caleesi's elbows straightened out ever so slightly to match the newly found space to make their dance as seamless as possible. She was surprised by Lysanthir's words that followed soon after- making her heart flutter in the climax of its anxious fit- though deep down a wave of calm began to wash over her. A light hint of pink still kissed the grandmistress cheeks, even more so with the complement of her dance partner. Shifting her eyes away from him for a moment, Cali relaxed her nerves before she softly spoke back to him, the candle's flame between them whisking around just as bright as it had been standing still. \"Thank you.. Lord Olagwyen. I didn't know that you were this proficient in the waltz, nor your knowledge on it. It's refreshing to know that people still remember its history.\" \n\nGetting caught up within the midst of the music, Caleesi fell to its passion and allowed herself to truly Feel It's tune. The high elf leaned back, interesting that her partner would support her as they dipped and rocked through the highs and lows of each note that paced itself within a One, two, three Tempo. Like a lost soul finding their voice, Lady Scarleth had seemingly find her confidence for this dance. The waltz was all about trusting your partner, and whilst trust was something neither of the two truly had for one another just yet, they were slowly melting the ice at the very least. Caleesi fluttered her eyes shut to envelop herself in the song, leaning her head back as she did so. Many guests that had cursed silent whispers were now staring in awe, their views shifting at the sight of the two as they claimed the ballroom for as their own. \n_ _\n\nOnce Cali did bring her attention to the front, the trickled feeling of Lysans hand caused her to tilt her head up at him in question. Perhaps the she-elf shouldn't have spoken her thoughts aloud, as the vampire's response made Caleesi's face heat up a ruby red. A nervous smile broke the woman's lips as she left out an airy chuckle, her gaze swimming around as she tried to think of a clever response. \"I- Haha, well no, of course not... Is being broody and apathetic normal for you, Lord Olagwyen?\"\" Lingering back around to the man, Cali noticed the unwavering, bland expression that sat on the High Lords face, her nervous smile drooping in worry that he perhaps was offended. \"I'm sorry-\" She started, her fingers that once sat flatly against the Law Masters shoulders now bunching up. \n\nBefore the gandmistress could explain herself any further, a new question would arise. Though, instead of Lysnathir's haunting eyes piercing through the she-elf's soul, Caleesi watched as he trailed his sights elsewhere. Landing on King Astalios himself. Following his gaze, Lady Scarleth took in the deepend glare that her King had, his muddled brown hues speaking volumes. A slight frown tugged the edges of Cali's lips as she listened to Lysnathir, her eyes still hovering over the half elf that stood out amongst the crowd. Part of the young woman felt as though she had let down her king by choosing to dance with the counselor, but the other part felt as though she had a duty to fill. Keeping the peace. Swaying her attention back towards Lord Olagwyen, Caleesi's eyes softened almost completely. The feeling of fear for the man she was far too terrified to look at now slowly melting away. \"If i'm being completely honest with you, there is nothing i hate more than having a man speak for me. I did not know King Astalios would do such a thing, and so i am sorry if it ruined your performance at all.\" \n_ _\n\nAs the pair glided and swayed their way around a few times more, a few strands of Cali's neatly blond hair wisped about- some breaking from the white petal clip that held half of her thick tresses together. Caleesi did her best to ignore such a bothersome thing, and instead focused on the music as it began to slow from its once upbeat tune. Each time Lysathir pressed his dominant foot forwards, placing himself up close and personal to her, the high elf got a fluster of butterflies caged deep in her chest. She still felt a bit unsure about the vampire no doubt, but to have him apologize to her in such a manner, and still offer his conversation after.. It was oddly nice. \" I picked you because.. If someone like Delsandra can give you a second chance. So can i.\" Caleesi paused a moment, eyes locked sweetly with Lysan before she offered a small, and heartfelt smile. \"Everyone deserves to enjoy tonight. Besides, I do love the waltz. Dancing was all i did growing up, so Maybe You were right about perfect partners.\" \n\|\|" } ]	965	5,140
937.666667	2022-12-17	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Lysanthir Tauriel Olagwyen, Master of Laws \| Lazaroth", "message": "\"When you've been alive as long as I, things start to become second nature.\" Lysanthir responded to Caleesi's compliment, and then realized she had grown a bit more relaxed. It was a relief. Perhaps she had finally gotten past what she had heard about him, or what he had done at Thunder Fest for that matter. A brief moment of silence fell between the two, which gave Lysanthir time to enjoy the dance and song they were performing to. The crowd around them melted away, as if a spotlight from above had cascaded down upon the two of them. Was this love? No, how could it be? He's only met her thrice, one of which she didn't even know it was him. Perhaps what he felt was calm, a feeling that the vampire had nearly forgotten. Simply being content. Eyeing the candle between their hands, Lysanthir wasn't surprised at all to see it still lit.\n\nThere was a shift however. As Caleesi allowed the music to finally invade her mind, Lysanthir could feel how more confidently she carried herself. Her movements weren't as hesitant as they were just a moment before, leaving Lysanthir feeling ever so slightly proud that she had come out of her shell. It was a night of trying something new for everyone, that much was certain. Though, the blush that covered Caleesi's lips after the vampire's question did amuse Lysanthir, her inquiry in return caused his brow to furrow. Broody? Apathetic? Soon, the realization that he had not even cracked so much as a faint smile the entire night washed over him, but in his eyes Caleesi could very well see the amusement dancing within them, even though his lips remained neutral.\n\n_ _\n\"There's no need to be sorry, my lady.\" Lysanthir did his best to reassure her as he felt her tense up once more. Noticing her glance to the king, the he-elf waited patiently for her response to his question. It was an honest one, as Lysanthir had been genuinely surprised Caleesi had chosen him over the Iron King, but the high elf would be lying if he didn't say he wasn't the least bit amused by thought. When Caleesi spoke the words 'second chance' however, there was an obvious hitch in Lysanthir's movements, but as quickly as it appeared it was gone. The music was dying down and soon their dance would be over, but it was apparent Caleesi's words had struck a chord within the vampire's heart.\n\nLysanthir looked to Caleesi's face with a mixed expression. It was filled with both understanding and caution, slight pain and appreciation. It was almost as if Lysanthir was struggling to come to grips with the feeling her words had placed within him. Watching the she-elf's eyes as the music started to die down and their dance slowly came to an end, the vision of Calitherien's face had finally melted away entirely. Now all that was left was Caleesi. Only, Caleesi. It was painful to witness, but healing all at once. It was something Lysanthir had never given himself a chance to feel. That loss and all that pain had been bottled up and the moment he had first laid eyes upon Caleesi, his mind told him this was his second chance to be with her, when in reality it was his second chance to live.\n\nTo be alive, as he was thousands of years ago.\n\n_ _\nThe music had finally stopped, and the crowd erupted into applause for their performance. Staring at Caleesi as he held her so close in his arms a moment longer, the vampire soon departed from his stance and instead took a spot next to the woman. Lysanthir gazed around the room, but there was a look of deep thought in his eyes. Without another moment however, Lysanthir bowed to Caleesi and extended a hand to her before looking to the crowd, \"Grandmistress Caleesi Scarleth of Alynthi.\" The crowd looked to the she-elf, and instead of hateful or gossip-filled looks in their eyes, it was appreciation for their display. When their claps died down once more, Lysanthir looked to Delsandra in the back of the crowd before dipping his head in respect. It was a silent thanks for allowing him such an opportunity.\n\nSoon, the crowd began to disperse as another performer took the stage. Some began to practice their own waltzing, others going to mingle about the performance. Nevertheless, it left Caleesi and Lysanthir with significantly less eyes on them. Turning to face the she-elf, the vampire took Caleesi's hand in his own before dipping his head down to place a kiss on the back of her hand. \"I thank you, Lady Scarleth, for allowing me to share a dance with you. You have made my attendance here worth while.\"" }, { "author": "Caleesi \| Grandmaster of Magic", "message": "With the way that Lysanthir never seemed to budge from his cold expressions, Caleesi started to slowly realize that perhaps that was just the way the high elf was. His comment of being alive for such a long time helped better understand that this vampire had possibly lived in worlds not even she could have imagined. Deeping her gaze into the High Lords icy hues, Cali could almost see the underlying passion that swooped in each fiery white arch, swirling along his snowy blue irises. One glance alone told of a lifetime of struggle that had never been put into words, but Caleesi saw it for all it was worth. Silence hovered over the two once more, only this time it held far more significance for them both. Even as their dance had come to an end, and both elves slowed to a gentle sway- still tangled in one another's arms- Caleesi's eyes never wavered from Lord Olagwyens own while they shared a longing stare. No fear or hesitation was present on the grandmistress face, as it was now replaced with a look of pure innocent curiosity for what Lysanthir was thinking. She saw the cracks that lingered on his face, small hints of himself peeking through by words she didn't think would have such an effect on him.\n\nJust what was he thinking?\n_ _\n\nSurprisingly, Lady Scarleth had become accustomed to the tender loving hold the High Lord had on her. His hands, while large in size, fit into the curve of her back like a piece of a puzzle. Perfectly lined right down to the way they both held the candle so effortlessly in their hands. However, when the music had finally died out, leaving both vampires to pick up on the enhanced noises around them, Cali still clung to the melody in her mind. And just how graceful Lysanthir led her. Applause rained down upon the two heavy, so abrupt it had broken the fixational stare Caleesi had on the councilor. It was only when the Law Master untethered his grasp on the woman that Scarleth unknowingly wished to hold on longer. There was a pull from deep within just as she had felt that night in Findara to know more about Olagwyen than he had put on. Tonight, he had shown a side that she had never seen before out of people like him... \n\nPeople. Not monsters.\n_ _\n\nJumping ever so slightly to such praise that arised by guests who once bickered over them, a sense of excitement and proudness rose within the high elves chest. She allowed the High Lord to move to her side, though still kept her hand intertwined within his own. When Lysanthir announced her name, the heat that had finally subsided from Caleesi's face came burning right back. Even redder than before. A bashful smile painted Lady Scarleths lips as she took a humbled bow, squeezing her former dance partner's hand in silent thanks. Once she arose, Cali tilted her head over towards the man, a sparkle of light dancing in her eyes that spoke far louder than words ever could. She was thankful for such a moment, and knew that this night would stay in her memories for a long time. \n\nWatching as the crowd departed, and some even whisking their loved ones to their own dance, a warm calm washed over the grandmaster. However, feeling a shuffle by her side, Caleesi brought her attention back over to Lysanthir; his hand still holding gently onto hers. A flustered, wide eyed look overcame the she-elf once the vampire pressed his lips to her skin. Chills invaded the woman's spine, leaving goosebumps to dot around her neck and arms. There was a cold caress from the High Lords lips that, even though held little warmth, still set the young girl's heart on fire. Smooth and soft were the elven man's skin-as if unscathed from any cut or roughness. Sheepishly darting her eyes away from him however, Caleesi's chest could be seen picking up speed from her accelerated heart beat. \n_ _\n\n\"P-Please, i'm far too flattered, Lord Olagwyen.\" The sorceress stammered, her voice holding a small smile. Soon, Cali's face would return to the Law Master, her gaze still soft and welcoming as she twisted her smiling lips to the side. \"I should be thanking you though.. That was the first time i've danced in years. You've helped me come alive far more than you know it, so thank you.\" \n\nCaleesi dipped her head down graciously in respect, the golden strands of her long, wavy hair tumbling down along with her. As she rose for the final time, a hopeful look remained in her eyes that perhaps Lysanthir's motives were mistaken all along. And maybe, just maybe, they could start over. \n\|\|" }, { "author": "Lysanthir Tauriel Olagwyen, Master of Laws \| Lazaroth", "message": "Lysanthir held onto Caleesi's hand a few moments longer, but soon he retracted his own to his side and returned to standing straight up. Looking over to King Dilitrios for a brief moment, Lysanthir wanted what he thought of their interaction. While he tried his best to be as respectful as a councilor should have been, Lysanthir was delighted at the thought of whisking Caleesi away from Astalios. Nevertheless, the vampire looked back to his dance partner and dipped his head. \"There's no reason to thank me, my lady. I knew you were the perfect choice the moment I saw you.\" His words were buttery and filled with compliments, and one wouldn't be wrong to say it was a ploy to get closer to Caleesi, because it was. Though, not for the reasons one might expect. They also could very well have had a double meaning, for he could have meant when he first saw her at Thunder Fest, or when he saw her in the crowd.\n\nLooking over to a servent carrying a tray of wine, Lysanthir waved a hand and two glasses levitated over the various heads of party-goers to his hand, though one floated right in front of Caleesi. \"I actually have not danced in... Hm, just under a thousand years I believe? I'm just as surprised as you are that I didn't mess up the demonstration.\" It was likely strange for both Queen Runacri and Lord Corinthian to see Lysanthir be so- well, talkative to Anyone Really. Most times he'd answer questions or get straight to a point, but small talk wasn't in his repertoire usually. A thought had crossed Lysanthir's mind however as he went to sip from his glass, which stopped him dead in his tracks. Turning to look at Caleesi, a curious look befell his face.\n\n_ _\n\"If you don't mind me asking, Lady Scarleth, why Were You so upset that night in Findara?\" Caleesi would very easily notice Lysanthir avoid speaking of his actions that night, but he did never truly find out why she had been so upset before he had even approached her. Perhaps his prodding would ruin the mood, but it had bothered him ever since. Did someone say or do something to her? No one would ever lay a hand or harmful word upon Caleesi again if Lysanthir was around. Not if they wished to continue breathing at least. While that mask of Calitherien may have disappeared, Lysanthir wished to remain as close to the she-elf as he could. The feelings she made him feel were euphoric, nearly as addictive as a drug.\n\nHe had no intention of quitting it now.\n\nWhile he waited for answer, Lysanthir eyed the crowd once more though rather than looking to Princess Delsandra or King Astalios, the vampire was instead searching for his own queen, Ashira, as well as the little pest Corinthian. With a gentle inhale, Lysanthir felt each heart beat in the room. The drunken fools being escorted out of the ballroom, lovers dancing the night away with one another in front of the stage and the current performer, the calm, the quick- he felt it all. None however, were beating as quickly as Queen Dhakashira's did when the hym was playing its little game with her. It was a simple and very discreet way to check on his queen, one only he knew about. For now, all was calm, which was a relief to the Law Master." } ]	1,025	2,813
1,097	2022-12-18	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Caleesi \| Grandmaster of Magic", "message": "Taken aback at how sweet the vampire was towards the elven woman, Caleesi found herself at a continuous loss for words. Her smile grew brighter the more Lysanthir's velvet voice danced it's way into her ears, though, she did her best to hide it. Shaking her head in amusement at the man's compliments, Cali watched as the Law Master weaved his magic smooth and effortlessly. Curiously, the sorceress wondered just what all Lord Olagwyen knew- given he was proving himself a man of many talents. However, as the glass he conjured made it's way into the hands of the she-elf, Cali took it with both of her petite hands- dipping her chin ever so slightly in thanks. The more and more that Lysanthir spoke, the more Lady Scarleth was able to understand him. She loved to dissect people, as her curiosity was a never ending void. But to know that the High Lord was over a thousand years old.. It gave way to so many questions. All of which the High lady was itching to know about. \n\nPulling her goblet up to her plump rose lips, Caleesi silently drank from her cup as she simply listened. The man's tone leaving much to be discovered from the few words he shared. \"Just how old Are You, Lord Olagwyen?\" Cali asked, a playful yet curious brow raising as she tipped her cup back once more. She was still treading the waters with him no doubt, not knowing what was the appropriate thing to say to someone such as him. Nevertheless, as always, Scarleth let her questions get the better of her. Before she had gotten her answer, Lysan was already tossing new ones her way. It would seem as though the two had much to say to one another, however his next inquiry was something that took Caleesi by surprise. \n_ _\n\nSwallowing the bitter red wine before she choked on it- the grandmistress cleared her throat. Her eyelids fluttering about as if processing what the councilor just said. \"Oh.. Uhm-\" Taking a moment to collect her thoughts, Cali felt the sickening feeling of fear that she had felt that unfateful night on the balcony. The way that the High Lord had cornered her, the way his breath felt on her neck.. It was nothing like the man standing before her tonight. And of course, while it was no secret– the events that had happened to the Scarleth family– Just about anyone who looked into the young woman's history would have known that her district had fallen to the hands of vampires. However, with the crowds of people still lingering around the two, Calseesi didn't know if she could trust or Want Such information being spread around. Shifting her gaze back up towards the high elf, Cali's eyes held a somber light to them as her smile turned into a distant frown. \n_ _\n\nShe watched as Lysanthir took a look over the crowd, though she couldn't make out just what he was looking for. The thought of Princess Delsandra snooping around the two didn't sound like a thrilling attraction to be in- So, as politely as the grandmistress could, she offered her hand to the vampire. Nodding towards his arm as a sign to hold onto it and hopefully get away from the dancing part of the ballroom floor. Should Lysanthir take her offer, Caleesi paced her steps slowly; just as she did her words when she spoke. \"I don't mean this to come off as.. Insensitive, Lord Olagwyen. But I have had a bit of a bad past with vampires.\" Trailing in a deep sigh through her nose, Caleesi stared down the crimson liquid that swayed in her goblet. Her sorrowful blue eyes deepened in color as she tried desperately to not relive the night of her passing. \"My family was murdered by a group of noblemen pretending to be district leaders within Alynthi. I was set into an arranged marriage with the man who I thought...\" Pausing a moment, Scarleth shut her eyes slowly, exhaling the breath she had held moments prior. \"I suppose you just can't trust people. No matter who they appear to be.\" \n_ _\n\nAs the pair walked further away from the stage's venue, Caleesi slipped her hand from Lysanthirs arm in an attempt to give him his personal space. She drug her sullen eyes slowly up the man's figure before reaching his, taking in the beautiful suit he donned far more than she had while they were dancing. After a moment of silence settled in, the high elf's lips tenderly snapped out of their gloomed expression– Instead, an apathetic smile took its place. \"That night, when I saw you for the first time and people told me what you were... I panicked. It wasn't You Who scared me off, it was the thought of reliving what i went through that frightened me.\" Lowering her gaze to the floor, Cali fiddled with her dress in slight embarrassment. She knew it was a rather foolish thing to say, but it was the truth. However, the more that the she-elf thought about that night in Findara, the more that she remembered how stunned Lysanthir was.\n\n Soon, a deep, curious expression pushed between the womans brows- Caleesi lifted her head back up towards him in contemplation. \"Say.. Why did you... I mean How Did you know my name?\" Tilting her head even more, Cali narrowed her eyes in question. The pieces of that night never truly fitting. \"And why did you run away..?\"\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Lysanthir Tauriel Olagwyen, Master of Laws \| Lazaroth", "message": "The moment Caleesi asked just how old Lysanthir was, there was a twitch in his lips, one that was obviously an attempt to not smile. He did so successfully, and retained that neutral look upon his face. Nevertheless he answered with a look in his eyes that showed clear amusement over offence. \"I am 1,862 years old, my lady. Though, I've only been a vampire for 1,717 of those years.\" Lysanthir could see the curious look on Caleesi's face as plain as day, and even the playful look to her crystal eyes. While in the first hundreds of years or so of being a vampire Lysanthir hated what he was, he came to grips with it eventually. While he of course didn't love it, it was his life now. Curiosity from those who had never experienced a life of vampirism was more common than one might think.\n\nThe amusement soon left Lysanthir's eyes however as he realized his question had upset Caleesi. He could feel the tenseness in her body increase, as well as the quicker beating of her heart. Furrowing his brow with worry, he was surprised to see the she-elf reach for him, her hand resting upon the nook of his arm perfectly. It was as plain as day that Caleesi wished to continue their discussion elsewhere, likely away from prying ears and eyes. Then, the high elf began to spin her tale of why she had reacted in such a way in their first encounter. Caleesi's initial sentence about having a bad experience with vampires sent a wash of rage over his body. If she was telling this to him, surely it had been published Somewhere. Why didn't those damned books in Lazaroth have anything about this within them?\n\n_ _\nNevertheless, Lysanthir remained silent and listened intently to Caleesi's story. The lord had known about her family's passing, but it didn't say what the cause was. A hardened look fell over Lysanthir's face, and soon the puzzles fell into place as to why Caleesi was so apprehensive around Lysanthir. A mortal was right to fear his kind for what they were and what they could do, but Caleesi had experienced it first hand. Her fear was more than justified, and it left a pit in the high elf's stomach as she finished her story. It began to grow when he realized how his actions must have truly effected her. Lysanthir had terrified her.\n\n\"Lady Scarleth.\" Lysanthir turned to face her as they stop, his face riddled with a deep regret. \"I wish to once again apologize for my actions that night. I had No Intention to hurt you and I have no excuse for scaring you in such a way.\" Contrary to his expression, his voice was as calm and cool as ever. Watching her anxious mannerisms only made Lysanthir feel worse, and to stop her from feeling worries he grabbed both her hands in his own causing her to drop the piece of her dress she was tugging at, a slight feeling of regret for wearing gloves hitting him in the back of the head. Hoping her eyes would meet his, Lysanthir repeated himself once more. \"I am deeply sorry, my lady.\"\n\nBefore he could say anything more however, the next question sent a shockwave of panic through Lysanthir's bones.\n\n_ _\nHad he forgotten so soon how he had uttered a nickname he didn't even realize she had? Calitherien had the very same nickname, one he had called her time and time again in their short span together. A deep, sorrowful pain filled the man's chest, and soon the illusion he had on his leg fell causing him to stagger sidewise ever so slightly. Without a snap of his finger, the cane he had that Caleesi saw in Findara appeared in his hand, which he now leaned upon. Standing up straight once more with a pained inhale, Lysanthir waved a hand over his leg and sent a wave of light yellow magic over his leg. \"My apologies, that- I used an illusory spell to allow myself to dance with my bad leg. It seems the wine and my magic don't agree.\" Dropping the wine glass it disappeared, but perhaps Caleesi would have noticed it was still entirely full before it was gone from thin air.\n\nYet to answer the high lady's question, Lysanthir cleared his throat. \"I am sorry, but I believed you were someone else.\" While his face was neutral, there was a clear story behind his eyes. One he would likely not share just yet, if ever. Perhaps somewhere Queen Dhakashira could feel her Law Master in distress, but for now he was managing. \"As for why I ran off, I had simply gotten overwhelmed.\" Leaving it at that, Lysanthir fell silent once more, and almost seemed to be receding back into his hole of cold neutrality." }, { "author": "Caleesi \| Grandmaster of Magic", "message": "Noticing the slight flicker in the High Lords outer expression, Cali smirked ever so slightly. She was getting to him- and it was quite amusing to watch the light come alive within Lysanthir's eyes. \"Well, regardless of how you feel about yourself, i think immortality suits you.\" Caleesi murmured sweetly, insinuating that his good looks served him well, and that she was much more interested in him as a whole than the blatant fact he was a vampire. Of course, her words could have been taken the wrong way, and Caleesi could only hope that the Law Master would catch on to what she truly meant. As much as the sorceress was interested in the many lives the counselor had lived, no doubt, she was not one to pry on a stranger's business. Nevertheless, as the two went on, Lady Scarleth was taken aback once more when Lysnathir reached for her hands. \n\nMagic swirled the goblet that she held upon contact with the High Lord's gloved fingers as they wrapped securely around Calis' own- leaving it to float nearby if she wished to continue drinking it. The gentle tug Olagwyen made as he brought the woman closer towards him was fragile, as were his words when he spoke. Looking up to meet his sorrowful gaze, Caleesi could feel the physical pain that flowed through the vampire's bones. Each breath of sorry that left his lips like a plea for mercy. Softening her stare, the grandmaster placed her heel forwards to close the gap between them- her head tilting upwards to ensure she saw all of him from his towering figure. \"You have my forgiveness, High Lord.\" Caleesi started to say, slipping one of her hands free from the man's grip and gently placing it over his knuckles. \"You have done more than enough tonight to show me that there can be good people in this world, and I sincerely thank you for that.\" \n_ _\n\nSearching in the many waves of Lysanthirs steely blue eyes, Cali could see the storm within them brewing. She had never wished more to know just what he could possibly be thinking in those tense moments where the pang of his thoughts caught in his jaw- making his muscles tense and fluctuate with each comforting touch. Speaking with him like this... It almost felt Too Perfect. Like they were almost meant to find one another, and she couldn't shake the feeling of Déjà vu. Even still, Lady Scarleth wasn't one to put years of trauma behind her for a vampire. While she still respected and appreciated Lysans apology, she knew it would take a lot of time and effort before she was able to trust him fully. After all, believing someone and trusting them are very different things... \n\nWithin mere seconds, Caleesi saw the dread that replaced Lord Olawyens' saddened expression- panic seeping in through his iris. When the man began to stumble, instinct kicked in within the high elven woman; Cali gripped onto Lysanthir's hands, one of which jerked to his forearm to support him. A flurry of worry and fear flashed within the grandmasters widened glance as she buckled along with him, hoping to catch him should he fall. It was quite silly to think such a petite woman could support an elf twice her size- however, her vampirism held strength that was oftentimes unmatched and underrated. \"L-Lysan! My gods.. Are you okay?\" Caleesi stammered, concern filling her voice. Darting her eyes over the man's figure, she was surprised to see that same cane faze into existence beside him. Now supporting himself, Cali took a slight step back. Her hands still hesitantly reached out for him as she gave a puzzled look.\n_ _\n\nIt was odd to see a vampire with any type of injury, Caleesi herself knowing that the curse of vampirism came with rather peculiar perks such as restoration. Eyeing Lysan's leg as he casted his magic along it, Scarleth wanted to dare ask just Why He had a bad leg to begin with. However, she knew deep down that that was not something to ask someone you're just getting to know. Instead, the High Lady did her best to offer a calming smile. It's warmth not reaching her eyes as they caught a glimpse of the untouched wine glass before it disappeared. \"Please, don't worry about such a thing. Is there anything i can do for you my Lord? I know plenty of mending and healing spells.. Perhaps i can take a look at your leg?\" Shifting her sights over, Caleesi noticed how stiff the high elf had become. Her brows lifted in worry, wanting nothing more than to know the root of his pain. Nevertheless, Cali wouldn't pressure him on the offer. \n\nThe nip of Lysanthirs cold tone coming back brought yet another chill to Caleesis's skin. Listening to the way he was so quick to dismiss himself, Lady Scarleth kept her head down and away from the High Lords gaze- far too anxious to meet whatever sharpness they held within them. \"I see... Everyone has their days, no? No shame in being overwhelmed, I do apologize for my prying however.\" Holding her voice to a quiet yet soft murmur, Caleesi placed her hands neatly together at the forefront of her dress. She had begin to feel the anxiousness of her doubt creep back up in the corners of her mind, however only this time she refused to let it reach her heartbeat. There was something still not quite right about Lord Olagwyen that Cali couldn't place her fingers on. Even so, she tried her best to write them off as him simply being an overwhelmed individual. How could he not be? His apologies were well felt, and if anyone knew about the complexities of being overstimulated- it was her. \n\|\|" }, { "author": "Lysanthir Tauriel Olagwyen, Master of Laws \| Lazaroth", "message": "Steadying himself, Lysanthir soon noticed the grandmistress holding onto him, with a curious strength no less. The thought didn't remain to long in his head however as he gently pulled away, fixing his suit with an anxious look in his eyes.\n\n\"Dragon's fire.\" Lysanthir muttered with an irritated tone, though it wasn't pointed towards Caleesi as he glanced down to his leg. \"No magic can work to heal a wound caused by it. Trust me, I've tried many times with many healers, all of which failed.\" Lysanthir's age likely hadn't fully settled in for Caleesi, which meant she probably didn't even realize he had been alive during the Great Dying, the worst war in Lucidien's history. This tale was one he had spun for anyone who asked, though he wouldn't tell it if she didn't wish to know. The high elf asking to see his leg however did cause Lysanthir to tense and shake his head. \"No. Thank you for your concern, but as I said I've seen countless mages and read even more books on the subject. Nothing can heal it.\" \n\nLysanthir thanked the Gods above that the illusion over his face had remained, especially given Caleesi would immediately recognize him from her dreams if she saw the horrific scarring upon it. Seeing any scar of Lysanthir's would simply have to wait for another day, perhaps when the vampire could trust Caleesi a bit more. With a glance around, Lysanthir hoped no one had seen his stumble. Quite a few mages had actually approached Lysanthir of their own volition wishing to see and study his scars. After all, it wasn't every day you met someone who lived through the war between dragons and mortals, let alone fought in it like he had. When Caleesi apologized however, Lysanthir shook his head, his expression returning to a less panicked and more neutral but calm one.\n\n_ _\n\"There's no reason to apologize, my lady. A scholarly woman such as yourself is bound to have a thousand questions about an individual such as myself.\" A gleam soon appeared in Lysanthir's eyes, but he hesitated to speak. It was obvious there was something he wished to say, but his mind was holding his tongue for him. Frowning inwardly, Lysanthir refused to let his doubts get the better of him. \"Perhaps-... Perhaps we could discuss all your questions in a more appropriate setting some time?\" The inclinations of Lysanthir's offer could have gone a thousand ways, but it seemed genuine enough on the exterior. The vampire could see the dozens of questions Caleesi had for him, which he understood completely.\n\nBefore their conversation could continue however, Lysanthir's eyes were drawn to the stage when Princess Delsandra began to speak from the center of it." }, { "author": "Princess Delsandra Qinrel", "message": "The night had gone surprisingly well all things considered. The entire time Delsandra had been watching from the sidelines however, simply enjoying the festivities, performances and people in her home. Surprisingly, she had yet to see much of her younger sister, though that was likely a good thing. The princess watched Sorevelle unfold into a beautiful event, one that did come with its ups and downs however. The Lazaroth entourage did leave Delsandra with a sour taste in her mouth, especially when Lord Lysanthir had approached her just a day prior with a request to perform. It was strange, and even stranger for Delsandra to say yes to such a request, but appearances needed to be kept. Thsyeer was a kingdom of acceptance after all, and even though Delsandra wished for nothing more than to watch Lysanthir burn upon a pyre, she'd allow him and the rest of his Lazarothan company to join him. \n\nLord Olagwyen, Lady Scarleth and King Astalios's interaction however was a delicious one to watch, until the vampire had managed to best the Iron King of all people. It was disappointing, but it made for an interesting development nonetheless. The two waltzed beautifully, Delsandra had to admit, but skulking off together was something that made the princess all the more curious about the two. Perhaps she'd need to do a bit more digging on both of them. The night was coming to a close however, which meant soon Sorevelle would end and her castle would be empty once more. After the last performer had finished, Delsandra emerged from under one of the balconies and took the stage. Those outside of the ballroom in the castle's courtyard would receive an announcement from a herald instead.\n\n_ _\nAll within the crowd fell silent, and soon Delsandra finally addressed them all. \"Thank you all for attending Sorevelle, my beloved festival of music. I am very pleased to say there was not a single performance that didn't leave the crowd and myself included wanting more, from Alynthi's songbird Karl, to the Iron King's beautiful display, to even a surprise demonstration of the waltz from Lord Olagwyen of Lazaroth. Accompanied by Lady Scarleth of Alynthi of course.\" Looking their way, Delsandra offered an empty smile to them both before returning her gaze to the crowd. \"Sadly, all good things must come to an end. As much as I wish to have Sorevelle last forever, it cannot.\" Casting a smile down to each attendant in the crowd, Delsandra urged them closer.\n\n\"So, come closer to enjoy the final performance of the night before we say farewell. An idol no less from the Noteworthy Brotherhood wishes to bid you all goodnight.\" Waving her arm out, Delsandra stepped aside to allow the performer to take the stage. For an idol of the brotherhood, she was quite underdressed, but many would know her as one of the great bards of the current day and an aasimar no less. The woman's wings unfurled and curled around herself to act almost as a gown before she began to play a gentle tune on her lyre. The princess descended from the stage to allow everyone to enjoy the final performance of the night." }, { "author": "Caleesi \| Grandmaster of Magic", "message": "Hearing the words leave Lysanthirs mouth brought a tidal wave of ice across Caleesi's skin. Her eyes drew wide just as her mouth did- jaw dropping in a perplexing state of mixed emotions. Never in the young girl's life had she ever heard of any survivors from the Great Dying- let alone a man who had witnessed the sight and breath of a dragon. A heavy weight of embarrassment washed over the woman once she had realized her ignorance, and while there was no fear in her eyes, one could certainly notice the regret and shame she felt for assuming anything about the man. Looking down quickly, Cali shook her head idly to herself as she uttered a thousand apologies- completely disregarding what Lord Olagwyen had said about them no less. \"Please forgive me, i promise you that i am nowhere near this intruding Lord Olagwyen- i..\" Shutting her eyes tightly for a moment, Caleesi brought her face back up to meet the vampires as she offered a genuine glance of regret. \"I don't want you to think my questions take you for some sort of project. I do not look at you like an experiment to dissect, Lysanthir. I'm sure you have had many eyes upon you in your life, i do not wish to add on to it.\" It was then that Scarleth began to realize that she would never be able to fathom what the High Lord's life could have ever been like. Let alone how to connect with him. \n_ _\n\nWhat could she possibly bring to the table that a vampire wouldn't already know? It was a tricky thing to navigate. Regardless of the twos obvious age gap- Cali still couldn't shake the feeling that she had just been disrespectful to probably one of the wisest and oldest living souls she had ever met. That soft tint of pink began to creep back up the sides of the grand mistress's cheeks as she contemplated seeing herself out- seemingly far too embarrassed by the damage she had done to herself. However, When Lysanthir opted to speak again, Caleesi was fairly surprised by his offer. Looking up to meet the twinkle of hope in the mans' eyes, it took everything within the high elf to not smile widely in return. \"I.. I think I'd like that. As long as you are sure you are up for my restless thoughts?\" \n_ _\n\nGiggling a bit to herself, Cali shook her head before adding playfully, \"I promise I won't intrude on your life, High Lord. You have my word.\" Before either could continue their conversation, the chime of Princess Delsandra's voice broke their ears. Turning her head to face the stage, Caleesi held her breath unknowingly. Regardless of how the Council woman felt about the Thyseerian elf, she could not deny the beauty and poise Delsandra had. She had a way about her that carried far more than meets the eye, after all, the tone in her voice when she addressed the crowd was far more buttery and sweet than that of the night in Findara. Taking a moment to glance back up towards Lysanthir, Cali silently nodded her head over towards the crowd that was now forming near the stage floor. Whether the two liked it or not, their conversation would have to end here, as both of their appearances needed to be kept up as well. \n\nMaking her way to the sea of people, Caleesi had seemingly zoned out the Princess's speech up until her name was announced from the eladrins lips. Quickly, Lady Scarleth darted her face up towards Delsandra- meeting her fake smile with a sour taste in her mouth. By this time, the high elf felt Lord Olagwyen's presence beside her, and she took those brief moments to look up at him to gauge if he too noticed the petty scowl Princess Delsandra had put on. Nevertheless, Cali didn't let it get under her skin. Instead, she simply gave a gentle One-two Pat along the High Lords arm as she returned her gaze towards the stage- her own smile seeping with generosity. In a past life, Lady Scarleth would have fought fire with fire, but nowadays she tries her hardest to kill people with kindness. \n_ _\n\nAs the final act entered the stage, Caleesi watched with a gentle intensity. She loved the celebration of music far more than interacting with people at times, and knowing of the beautiful bard who was preparing her song to play, a warmth would soon cover Cali. Content with how the night was ending. The gentle strums of the angel's lyre floated into the air with a gentle flow, so delicate it made even the guests upon the second story to come to the edge to listen. Respectfully, the grandmistress folded her hands in front of her as she kept her gaze forwards, though a small smile painted the woman's face as she leaned over ever so slightly to whisper to her former dance partner. \"Oh to be as graceful as an Aasimar, don't you think? They've always had an innate beauty to them...\"" }, { "author": "Queen Dhakashira Runacri \| Matriarch of Wolves", "message": "Queen Runacri continued to observe from above as the unexpected series of events involving her Master of Laws unfolded. The exchange between Lazaroth and Alynthi seemed to stiffen the drow's spine, her grip on the railing tightened. While the words themselves did not carry particularly well over the hum of gossip, their meaning was clear. She scrutinized every look, the movement of every muscle, watching for any indication that she should intervene. It was undoubtedly not the introduction she had hoped for, swooping from above in a pillar of black to intercede in Lysanthir's affairs, but it was a duty she would have carried out nonetheless.\n\nAs tensions finally subsided and the demonstration began she lingered, her watchful eyes following the newly formed pair while they danced. As a dear friend she hoped to feel happiness in their temporary union, but a knot twisted tight in her stomach. She would have to discuss tonight's happenings, and those previous, with Lysan after their return to Lazaroth. It was a conversation she considered without eagerness, for her wish was not to pry for the sake of gossip, but to protect. Even if it meant upsetting him. \n_ _\n\nIn the meantime an unfortunate diplomatic opportunity had presented itself, an apology was owed. Ashira's amber gaze drifted to Alynthi's king, observing his vigilance as he watched the grandmistress and law master perform their dance. Even without delving into the depths of his mind she could imagine his offer had come from a place of duty and kindness. To put one's self in such a position only to face a deeply unexpected rejection, it would have upset her. The Iron King was certainly more comfortable than she in their current environment, likely unbothered by Caleesi's choice. Nonetheless the entire ordeal had been awkward at the very least, a great deal due to her own Master of Laws.\n\nAshira sucked in a breath, releasing it slowly as she began to circle the ballroom from above. One hand lightly grasped her drink, the other trailed along the smooth surface of the railing. Her attention shifted between Alynthi's king and the council pair as they retreated, dance complete. While her intentions were pure the queen's movements were like that of a predatory cat, as though she were stalking some pour soul. Any observing would potentially wonder if that grace extended to dance, perhaps they would soon have their answer. The drow's pace slowed as the hostess spoke, lifting her glass to her lips she listened to the string of niceties.\n_ _\n\nQueen Runacri sought Lysanthir's gaze when Delsandra spoke of him, the faintest hint of a smirk pulling at her lips. She raised her glass to him, quite proud of her dear friend, while the princess continued. As much as I wish to have Sorevelle last forever.. That would truly be Ashira's personal hell despite the accomplishments of Lysan. Trapped there for eternity trying to contain the beast while maintaining her own, unappreciated performance of perfect queen. \n\nGradually approaching the stairs she found herself opposite their final performer for the evening. She paused there, watching, delaying the inevitable meeting of Lazaroth and Alynthi royalty. The pale gown enveloping her provided beautiful contrast, striking against her dark skin. The ribs of gold adorning her caged every deep breath, pressing to her chest with each inhale. It served as a consistent reminder through the evening, of sins not to be forgotten. In that moment, however, she pushed her burdens aside. Her figure was relaxed, arm draped comfortably over the banister, bright gaze seeking the Iron King. \n_ _" }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "He wondered how this could have happened - the two people he would have thought would be most uncomfortable with each other had been spurred into some sort of dance, and then had made an exhibition of the event, which baffled him, truly. How could someone who had been so unsettling last they met suddenly become the source of laughter - Genuine* Laughter, as for as he could tell - from his mistress of magic, who had been shaking like a leaf the last time they had met?\n\nQuite frankly, to him, it made no sense at all, but there were other things to think about than the sudden reversal of attitudes present there - the party's political implications were kept simmering below a boil, and it was about as engaging as he could hope one of these events to be. A waltz was hardly entertainment for nobility that had learned the waltz practically from birth - and he had found himself alone in the crowd, his companion a songbird that hadn't spoken, either. That should have changed - and the brass in his lute was somewhat beyond his reach, as zinc was not under his control. \n\nWhat, then, to reward the man with? A gilded mask, a ring or two? Perhaps nothing at all for the moment. He did not want to give a stag, as that would have been far more than just a sign of favor - it was a sign of trust. But slowly and surely, each button and silver lining on the songbird's outfit became gold, though Astalios did not look the bird in the eye once - he had to keep an eye on the proceeding waltz. \n\nWhenever he was bored, he usually took a look about the room with the third eye of magic - silver necklaces, golden rings - a golden ribcage caught his eye as unusual, and his eyes lifted back to to meet the visage of the queen of Lazaroth with a skeptical raise of the brow. There were so many obvious metaphors for death in her attire - it was almost as if she was projecting danger about her with purpose, or else simply enjoyed being macabre. Either way, it did not bode well.\n\n_ _\nA woman who wore a skeleton of gold to a ball clearly was not as interested in the political maneuvering present as she was making a statement. And enemies doing that, well - it was not a fortuitous sign to be so interested in unnerving the competition. She was eyeing him as well, he noticed, and mud-brown eyes stared back into hers, the drow and the half-elf letting gazes meet in skepticism and perhaps interest.\n\nAnother obstacle to overcome. But he supposed that was how life worked when you were interested in doing your duty.\n\nHis eyes turned back to the stage for the announcement of the idol from the Noteworthy Brotherhood - hopefully, this would be the last performance of this festival, and they could disperse for explanations and detente alike to occur. He crossed his hands behind his back, lacing golden-armored fingers as he waited." }, { "author": "The Tale Weaver", "message": "As the festival of Sorevelle slowly began to draw to a close, the stars in the sky were shining brightly high above Lucidien. Within the ballroom the glass ceiling above allowed all within to see the beautiful night sky. Strangely enough, given the time of night, the moon seemed to be missing from the sky. Not all may have caught this however, but all would see the stars slowly start to fade away. One by one, each star began to disappear from the the blanket of night. Some believed it was an illusion and gasping in awe, others nervous to understand what was happening. \n\nRegardless, the performer on stage noticed the strange looks and pointing from the crowd and stopped her song to look up, her eyes widening with confusion. Soon, the sky became empty of any star or light in sight, and instead began to glow a blood red. The ground within the castle would begin to shake, sending terrified guests to the floor or to hang on for anything or anyone they could to stay on their feet.\n\nStrangely enough, the tables and chairs looked to be completely still, as if the tremors only affected the living. Cracks of black lightning struck the sky, the thunder immediately resonating in and outside of the building. If anyone dared try to use magic to stabilize themselves or escape, it would fail. Something was holding everyone at Sorevelle hostage. Soon, a terrifying voice filled the minds of each and every person in Thyseer's castle. The voice itself was deep but feminine, and nearly sounded like nails upon glass. Pain would course through the head of every individual in the castle as the voice invaded their minds.\n\n_ _\n₮ⱧɆ ĐɆVØɄⱤɆⱤ'₴ ɆɎɆ Ⱨ₳₴ ₴Ɇ₮₮ⱠɆĐ Ø₦ Ʉ₴. ₳ ₵₳₮₳ⱠɎ₴₮ ɎɆ₮ ₮Ø Đł₴₵ØVɆⱤ ł₮₴ɆⱠ₣ ⱠłɆ₴ ĐØⱤ₥₳₦₮ ł₦ ł₵Ɇ. ₥Ø₮ⱧɆⱤ ₳₦Đ Đ₳Ʉ₲Ⱨ₮ɆⱤ ₳₦Đ ₴Ø₦ ₩łⱠⱠ ₱ɆⱤł₴Ⱨ, ₮ⱧɆ ₲ⱤɆ₳₮ ₮ɆⱤⱤØⱤ₴ ₩łⱠⱠ ⱤɆ₮ɄⱤ₦, ฿Ʉ₮ Ø₦ⱠɎ Ʉ₦ł₮ɆĐ ₩łⱠⱠ ₮ⱧɆ ĐɆVØɄⱤɆⱤ ₣₳ⱠⱠ.\n\nAs the message ended, four distinct individuals would feel indescribable pain course through their body. Soon, one by one, each of their heads would reel back to the ceiling and bright white light would shoot out from their mouths and eyes. First, Princess Delsandra Qinrel would be effected, followed quickly by Lady Caleesi Scarleth. High upon the balconies above the ballroom floor was Queen Dhakashira Runacri, who too fell victim to whatever attack was happening. Finally, King Astalios Dilitrios would be hit as well, though being last allowed him to witness the other three before he too joined them.\n\nAll four were left in this state for varying times, all four seeing their very own vision played out before them as if it were real before falling to the ground wherever they were. Dhakashira had seemingly struck out of luck, as she fell unconscious while leaning over the balcony above the ballroom. The fall would be nasty, but likely wouldn't kill her, though thankfully it seemed someone would be quick enough to catch her. For now, each were stuck in their own minds, witnessing a different vision between the four of them.\n\n_ _\nAstalios would awaken to an eerily similar feeling, one of pure dread. There the king stood in a field of green grass, the sky filled with stars and moon shining as bright as ever. A comet began to fly across the void, but quickly disappeared with a flash. Where it had once been, a terrifying red dot took its place. Unlike before when Astalios first had this vision, the dot was much larger. Less of a pinprick and more significant. It was a terrifying eye. One that looked as though it had seen a trillion deaths, eating billions of souls and whatever it looked upon would surely submit to its terror. The iris flickered to Astalios, and soon the Iron King was brought to his knees. A voice so deep, guttural and horrific invaded his mind, tearing and clawing at his brain.\n\nH̷̍͘ę̴̈ ̵̯̆w̶̐̇a̴̿͝r̵̅̆n̷̔͛e̴̿̂d̵̀͝ ̶̄̆y̴̑̈́o̶̽̋ǔ̴̆.̶̓͒\n\n_ _\nSoon, Astalios would awaken back in Thyseer's ballroom, though the scene around him was of pure chaos. Lords and ladies alike were screaming and holding their heads in pain, others running for their lives out of the ballroom. Looking around, Delsandra, Caleesi and Dhakashira were all still unconscious. Lord Lysanthir Olagwyen was at Caleesi's side, catching her before her head smacked into the marble. Dhakashira had been thankfully caught by Lord Corinthian when she must have stumbled over the railing of the balcony. A guard was at Princess Delsandra's side and trying his best to wake her, but to no avail.\n\nFloating high above Lucidien, Delsandra would open her eyes to a purely beautiful sight. Below rest the planet, but above were the stars. She was high enough to see both Solaris and Lunam in their rounds around Lucidien, but soon this vision of purity would begin to melt away. The twin Gods began to fall, and the stars that once danced around them began bursting into flames. One by one, the flames grew bright enough until they started falling to the earth. Entire castles fell, the ground itself became a lake of fire, and soon the sky was empty save for a single, red, star. A feeling of great aching and pain would come over the princess, before finally she too awoke from her terrible vision.\n\nDelsandra would awaken to a handful of guards surrounding her, and when they saw she was conscious they all began to help her upward. She too would see Queen Dhakashira and Lady Scarleth unconscious, though it was clear she had fallen over the balcony given she was now being held by a man on the floor of the ballroom; Lord Corinthian. Astalios was fully awake, though she did not know who all had been knocked unconscious. Only two remained, and Dhakashira's vision would be next.\n\n_ _\nThe shortest and arguably the most tame, Dhakashira would be washed up onto a beach of black sand and ash. Coughing and sputtering water from the sea, looking back out the queen would see countless ships poking out from the waters surface and twice as many jagged rocks. Turning back to face land, the dark elf would be greeted with a rather foreboding sight. Mountains that clawed at the skies all black with ash and soot. Smoke and embers began floating down from the sky, and soon one of the mountains began to erupt with fire and lava. The searing red substance began to rush down the side of the mountain toward Dhakashira, and as it washed over her pain unlike any other she had ever felt coursed through her veins. For just a moment before she woke up, a terrifying roar emonated from the volcano, as if a beast within was what caused the eruption.\n\nWaking up, Dhakashira would see the hym that had haunted her, its laughter filling her ears and not allowing her to hear anything that her dear Corinthian was saying as he held her upward. The hym would lurch forward before tearing a hole into her head to crawl back into her mind, though of course only Ashira would see this. Around her, King Astalios and Princess Delsandra were collecting themselves, but it was only dear Lady Caleesi Scarleth that was left unconscious, and the worst vision had yet to come.\n\n_ _\nPerhaps it was her powerful magic or simply just fate being cruel, but Caleesi's vision would feel the most real. The she-elf would open her eyes to a clearing of pure snow. Standing at its center, the sound of something rushing through the snow behind her would cause her to twist around, only to see a snow hare darting away for its life. Soon, the realization that the snow itself was covered in blood would settle in, but before she could run the rabbit would stop and stand on its hind legs. Ears perked up, the hare would turn to look at Caleesi but soon a light would begin to emonate from its chest. Glowing brighter and brighter, the shrills squeals of the rabbit would pierce Caleesi's ears, until the blinding light would force Caleesi to shield her eyes.\n\nOpening them once more, Caleesi would be greeted with a familiar sight. Floating within an empty void, before her was Lucidien, nestled in the hands of a being all knew well. Their hands were made of starlight, and a sense of calm would wash over the she-elf. This calm would soon began to fade however, as the hands that held the world began to melt away, leaving only bone. Eventually, even the bone would start to turn to dust, and Lucidien would begin burning away at itself. Embers, smoke and fire razed the lands. In the distance, far behind the planet was a single red dot, but rather than looking at Lucidien, its gaze was upon Caleesi.\n\nWhile Delsandra, Astalios and Dhakashira would all awaken from their visions, Caleesi seemed to be stuck in this limbo. Unconscious on the floor in Lysanthir's arms, the high elf seemed to not show any sign of stirring just yet." }, { "author": "Caleesi \| Grandmaster of Magic", "message": "Enjoying the melody that strung out from the bards lyre, it took a long moment before Caleesi would begin to pick up on the bizarre sky morphing overhead. Hearing first the many whispers and murmurs, Lady Scarleth turned her head to the crowd around her who were pointing up towards the giant glass ceiling. Twisting her neck to see the starless sky, Caleesi's brow furrowed in confusion. Was this an illusion?* Before she could even process that question, the grandmistress watched as the blanket of night turned into a glowing red sea. With the bard now stopping her tune, fear set into the hearts of many bystanders and guests alike- Caleesi herself whipping her head around to Lysanthir in dread. Before she could get a word out- the ground beneath them began to shake abruptly, giving no time for anyone to brace themselves. Instinctively, the high elf held onto who was closest to her- which just so happened to be the vampire himself. Even as Lysan held his arms around Scarleth, she did her best to support others near her by holding onto their arms or hands. Her eyes frantically scanning the room for King Astalios or his siblings. \n_ _\n\nScreams filled the air, and surely enough people were moving towards any exit doors they could find. A pit filled within the high elf's stomach as she helplessly watched the chaos ensue, but before she could even think of calling out for her King– an unimaginable pain shot to her temples– Making her scream out in agony. Perhaps it was because of the magic that ran through the grandmasters veins that caused her so much more intensity to whatever had infiltrated her mind, but whatever it was certainly took it's time in making sure she felt Everything. A voice pierced Caleesi's mind like daggers heading straight for her brain, it's origin unknown, but nevertheless terrifying. As they spoke in riddles, the pain grew stronger, making it nearly impossible to stand up. Through excruciating spasms, Cali fought against the folds of her eyelids to look at her surroundings, noticing that everyone else was experiencing the same feelings. Fear consumed the sorceress completely once she realized she was defenseless against whatever attack was going on... Her magic lost. \n_ _\n\nIt was only after the mysterious voice had gone away did the screaming get louder, more terrified than ever. Near the front of the stage where Princess Delsandra was cowering moments earlier, a blood curdling scream could be heard toppling over the rest as a guard was seen rushing to her aid. Contorting backwards as if possessed, the Princess's orange eyes died out into a pale white glow that beamed out of her head. Followed by her agape mouth, the same light emerged from it, making a truly horrifying scene to have witnessed. Gasping for air, Caleesi yelled out for the woman, pushing through the crowd to try and reach her. However, in those few, fleeting moments, Lady scarleth would succumb to the same fate. \n\nJerking to a stop, Cali's head tossed backwards as if she was hit with a ton of bricks. Her eyes rolled in the back of her head before they became immersed in a blinding white glow, her mouth falling open in the same fashion. It was almost as if some ungodly force had lifted poor Caleesi's body to contort in such a way, her back bending painfully as she was left to the devices of whatever was holding her captive. On the inside of the woman's mind however.. A new sort of hell would present itself to her. Nothing but a black, cold void surrounded Caleesi after being claimed by the unnamed force. It felt like mere seconds before her eyelids would flutter open, but this was not the ballroom she awakened too, no.. This was a dream. At least, that's what she thought it was...\n_ _\n\nThe frigid smell of snow bit at the high elf's nose as she came too in a blanket of white. The field she was placed in was unrecognizable for the most part, however Caleesi's eyes didn't stay in one place too long as she was constantly checking around each side of her. Soon, the pitter-patter of animal feet came thumping into the sorceress ears, and as she shifted herself around to see the rabbit that was running through thick trails of snow- Cali paused in utter confusion. She hovered her gaze between the poor creature and where it had come out from, wondering just what it could have been trying to get away from. Waiting a moment, and to no eval, Caleesi turned her attention back to the hare who was now on it's hind legs. There was far too much stress piling up within the councilors chest to understand just what was going on, but part of her felt inclined to step forwards and protect the poor creature. Placing one glass slipper into the tall pile of snow, a gasp slipped from the woman's mouth when the rabbit jerked it's head abnormally to Lady Scarleth. \n\nWatching it's uncanny movements, the trickle of light forming within it's chest gave an eerie feeling. Caleesi slowly began to pull her foot back to it's original place, her eyes trained upon the animal. Brighter and brighter the light grew, making the pit in the young girl's stomach twist and turn. She noticed the blood vessels and veins that were bleeding through like shadows illuminated by light– and once the screaming started– Cali pressed her hands to her ears, tears swelling in her eyes as she watched in horror. Without warning, the creature exploded, causing Scarleth to throw her hands up and cover her eyes instead. It's blinding light came crashing down onto her like another gravitational pull, only this time Caleesi found herself sucked into a far different experience. \n_ _\n\nDrained by this point, the high elf opened her weary eyes to the sight of her planet. Star struck by the view, and more so the hands that held it, Cali's body quivered by such a vivid picture. While the calm feeling did come to her, swirling it's way into her bones, it would only stay like a short breeze within summer. Whispering through her soul before leaving entirely. Eyeing the giant hands of what she believed was Devinahs, a petrified look would soon mark Caleesi's face as they melted away, even through it's flesh until it was nothing but bone. Down below her feet, flames would erupt upon Lucidien, lines of fire corrupting the lands she once knew and loved so dearly. Opening her mouth, the High Lady let out a terrifying scream, although she was now floating within a void– so nothing came from her throat, not even air. Tears lined along the sorceress' eyes as she tried to thrash around within her mind, the slow gravity showing no mercy to her as she was forced to remain within the same place. \n\nOverhead a bright red glow broke the horizon line of her burning world, and once Caleesi could make sense of just what she was looking at, her heart fully stopped.\n\nThis was hell. She knew it was." }, { "author": "Corinthian, The Cruel Lord", "message": "Screams bursted the eardrums of Corinthian who was currently not where he was supposed to be. After leaving his Queen to go have some fun around the castle, the Spy Lord took that time to scout out the Thyseer castle itself. Music faintly echoed through the walls as he made his rounds, becoming familiar and accustomed to each nook and cranny should he find himself back here upon a later date. However, Just as the sounds of terror had broke his concentration, Corinthian wasted no time hightailing it back to the ballroom. \n\nUpon teleporting into the scene, the first thing the eledrin saw was the crimson red shadow that lingered overhead. His eyes narrowed into the crowd where Lysanthir was getting pushed and shoved around by frantic guests. Though, when Corin didn't see his Queen, a sense of dread filled his chest. Scanning the room, Corinthian would search for Ashira. He knew far too well of her distaste for bustling crowds, and the fear that she would lose control was imminent. Before the Cruel Lord could get far however, an intense pain jabbed against his head– crippling him for a short period of time as a voice infiltrated his mind. Groaning in pain, Corin braced himself against the balcony, his pupiless eyes void of any magic within them. With the guests growing more and more on edge, it would be hard to seek out his party members no doubt. But just as the voice in his head died down and the sorcerer was able to regain control of himself, a new problem would show itself. \n_ _\n\nThe bloody scream that rang out above all the others pulled the High Lord's attention to the stage, where he saw in full view Princess Delsandra strung about like some sort of puppet on spirits strings. His mouth now agape, Corinthian's grip upon the stone railing tightened. Just what was going on here? Soon, the woman that Lysanthir was holding broke free from his grasp and fell into a parallel state of shock along with Delsandra, making the put within the Spy Masters stomach grow deeper. Numerous people stampeded past Corin as he tried to stand back on his feet- His loud voice shouting out to his Queen in hopes she would find him. \"Dhakashira! Where are you?!\" Staggering over the crowd, Corinthian scoured his eyes from head to head, desperately looking for the dark elf's pale colored dress. Although the eladrin was still on the same second level story just as Ashira was, he was a good distance away from the Queen. Beams of light that sprouted in three touched the sky, and soon many bodies would despurse away from it's source. Corinthians eyes shot to the commotion, the sight of his queen paralyzing him. \n_ _\n\nChills coated the man's skin, the air knocking from his lungs as he realized it was truly her that was being corrupted by whatever source of this magical attack that was at play. There was no time to think for Corinthian however, as he began Violently Pushing people out of his way to get to her. The light that poured from her eyes and mouth had started to flicker dimly, and soon her body began to topple forwards. Bursting into a full sprint, the High Lord's heart raced straight out of his chest. Teeth gritting as he pumped his legs faster and faster. In those nail biting seconds, Dhakashira's body fell completely limp– her torso sliding off the railing as she was sent falling head first. Corinthian let out a broken scream, spit flinging from his mouth. \"ASH!!\" Without as so much a thought, Corin leaped from the balcony after her, his arms outstretched and ready for the brutal impact as the pair were sent into the ground below. \n_ _\n\nA massive CRASH Hit the ground, followed by the rolling sounds of glass as debris before it had all cleared away. Kneeling upon the ground sat Corinthian, his chest reeling with heavy pants as he cradled his Queen in his arms. Luckily she came out unscathed, although for her councilor, Corin knew he had broken Something. However, there was too much adrenaline pumping through his body to care- Dhakashira was all he had time to focus on. Skimming his eyes over the woman's body, Corinthian gently shook his Queen as he spoke out softly to her. \"Ash.. Dhakashira- Wake up...\" Watching as her lifeless body gave no reaction, Corin's nose scrunched up in disbelief as he shook her again, and again.. \"Come on damn it.. Wake up!\" Panting harder, the Spy Master began to shake his head. The thought of losing Ashira was not an option, and Corin who had never been vulnerable in his life– Pleaded for the first time in years. \"H.. Help! SOMEBODY GET ME SOME HELP OVER HERE!\"" } ]	1,041	12,067
953.2	2022-12-20	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "The light about the room darkened, slowly but surely, for a few moments, and Astalios's eyes lifted, wondering if this was some part of the atmosphere of the next performance - Sorevelle was full of magical events, and there was surely a level of performance presence that came with darkening the room - after all, it was tried and true in the realm of romance. But this was not to be, sadly, and as the moon winked out, the blood-red eye appeared, and immediately, his face fell in surprise - he had once had a vision of this very occurrence, this ruby orb in the sky.\n\nAnd as the ground beneath him began to shake, he reached out to steady himself, arms lifting away from his sides as he braced against the tremors - he wondered why the glass ceiling had not shattered, given the amount of tension they were under - and he felt strangely numb as they resonated through him, as if he had lost... Some sense. His second sight had gone from him, and he could no longer feel the room around him, no iron bars or wrought gold, no necklaces, rings, or silver gossamer. It was gone. In that moment, he was afraid - what could this have been doing to his inner passenger, that sliver of his soul that housed something deep within him?\n\nAnd the pain of the voice hit him like a tidal wave.\n\nIt wormed its way into every nook and cranny of his mind, and along with the tremors, shook him to his core. He gritted his teeth as much as he could against the pain, forced his eyes to remain open with every sliver of willpower he had. Was there anyone unaffected? Could he keep his wits about him? For a moment, he struggled against fate, held in limbo as he watched the head of Princess Delsandra rear back and leak light in silver columns from her mouth and eyes - then Caleesi, then, in quick succession, the Queen of Lazaroth.\n\n_ _\nThrough the mind-numbing pain he desperately thrust out his arms at the sight of them dropping to the floor - but no golden necklace leaped into action to break and hold the princess up in ropes under her arms, no gilded ribcage obeyed his command to slow and stop the fall of the queen who was hurtling head over heel towards the floor, and no silver stag leapt to action to brace Caleesi's shoulders as she dropped like a puppet with her strings cut. It was as if he was reaching with fingers that had been chopped off - and friend or foe or uneasy ally, he had a duty to help. Or at least, to try. To no avail. His head pulsed with pain again, and he winced, face forming into a pained grimace.\n\nThen he was in the ballroom no more.\n\nA field of grass greeted him, a night that seemed just as peaceful as any other. The moon was bright, the stars twinkled like diamonds in the distance, and for a moment, he was relaxed - calm amongst the storm. The comet. A shooting star - it was luck, he thought vaguely. Lucky to see a shooting star. But then it disappeared, and the red dot - the same red dot, he realized - appeared in its place, this time an eye of deep crimson. He stared back at it, for a moment, and though he the pain of its voice brought him to his knees, took the breath from his body, he did not break its gaze, and his own eyes of that same steady muddy brown looked back into the endless void of red in as much defiance as he could muster. The VOICE! It burned his mind, seared his senses, but it could not take away his will.\n\nAnd back to the ballroom he was, on his side on the floor in a heap of gold and armor, and the ringing in his head was fading, replaced instead with the screaming of nobility, running men and women like decapitated chickens. Like a shock, the realization went through him that he could FEEL* Again - he gilded ribcage, the golden necklace, the silver stag. His second sight was no longer blind. He had to do something.\n\n_ _\nPalms braced against the floor, leaden legs pushed against the ground, and magic strained against the weakened body of the king as he dragged himself to his feet. But there was something wrong with him still - the armor he wore was not as he had left it, and as he looked down at the gauntlets of gold that he had worn, he found himself facing long, knifelike claws of metal, a bracer that looked as if it had been shattered and cobbled together, a metal monstrosity like a thousand shards of glass conglomerated into an animalistic, beastly set of gilded arms that glowed a deep, radiant orange with heat rippling off them in waves.\n\n\"I warned you.\" Spoke the voice in his head once more - this time, masculine, less painful, more solid. An old friend, an old enemy. A part of him. \"Take up the sword.\"\n\nHe stared for a moment at the claws that had formed in front of him, where his hands had once been, this distorted shape that pretended to be his doing. It was tempting, in a way - to find someone to blame, to tear them to shreds, to find his enemies and solve his problems right then and there. The rhythm of the pulsing heat within them captivated him, drew him. He peered into them like a crystal ball, as if there was some answer in the jagged and broken edges.\n\nBut there was none. He knew that. Whatever answer they could give him was not to be. He could not listen. So he willed them to shrink and slide back into their more human shapes, the gauntlets of a knight, signals of duty. The metal lost its glow of angry red, returned to the glossy sheen of gold. \n\nAnd he became a king again.\n\nStreams of metal clashed together above them all, beneath the glass ceiling, and molded into a massive bell of bronze. It tolled with a thunderous boom, drawing eyes, freezing noblemen and women in their places as they ran, cowered, hid. They had a duty to perform, and Astalios was not a man to let them forget it. He rose into the air alongside it, radiant in armor of gold, and let his voice thunder out too amongst the crowd.\n\n\"CONTROL YOURSELVES!\" He boomed, deep and resonant above them all.* \"You are not mice, to run from the first sign of danger! You have duties and guard complements to command!\" There was much to be done in a crisis - the first was establishing some measure of control. A chain of command.\n\n\"Outside this castle, many of the commoners are in a panic! Shops may burn, crowds may reign! Restore order!\" He reminded them. Leadership was not how well one administered in fair weather - it was how one took the reins in chaos, turned the tide of the evening from worsening to recovery.\n\n\"NOW!\" He barked, a military voice if any there ever was, and guards leapt to their feet, suddenly remembering their spears and shields. This panic could not go on." }, { "author": "Princess Delsandra Qinrel", "message": "Stepping to the side of the stage, Delsandra listened intently to the angelic performer that took center stage, her lyre's tune seeping into the eladrin's ears and bones like the warmth of a blanket. Soon the princess found herself closing her eyes and swaying gently while allowing the music to simply take over her senses, but the feeling of unsettled eyes and the sound of gasps soon filled her ears. Opening her eyes to scan just what had caused a disturbance, those fiery orange hues fell upon Caleesi and Lysanthir, her initial thought being it was the vampire who had dared interrupted her beloved Sorevelle. The realization that even they knew not what had happened caused a feeling of dread to wash over the princess, and the many hands pointing upward soon led Delsandra to cast her eyes in their direction.\n\nThe sky was as black as obsidian, and before Delsandra could truly contemplate just what was causing it a red glow filled her vision. It was quite the horrifying sight to behold. Worry filled her heart, and instead of running away or attempting to use magic to do anything, Delsandra instead scanned the crowd for her younger sister. Without much luck in the fleeting second she glanced over the many people, pain like no other she had ever felt coursed through her mind. Riddling her movements and body useless, the princess was stuck in place, her hands shooting to the sides of her head as she clutched it desperately. Screaming in agony, Delsandra only hope Irezora was spared from this pain. As soon as it had ended however, Delsandra had little time to comprehend the words spoken to her when her body became uncontrollable, her consciousness now elsewhere.\n\n_ _\nOpening her eyes in terror, Delsandra gasped and looked around, the sights around her not fully catching up with the panic in her mind. What had that voice said? Was it a god or something worse? Without much time to contemplate, Delsandra looked to her surroundings and soon realized she was floating high above Lucidien. The bright light of the Sun Goddess washed warmth over her skin, and the gentle ray of blue from the Moon God calmed her nerves for but a few fleeting moments. Perhaps this was nothing more than a bad dream. Maybe someone had poisoned her wine? Without much time to truly think on what had happened, the vision began to collapse on itself. Solaris and Lunam fell from the heavens in blazing balls of blue and red, stars fell to Lucidien and blasted away at the earth before lakes of fire replaced where ground once was. \n\nScreaming in terror, the feeling of something watching her sent chills up her spine before she turned to see who or what it was, only to be greeted by a single lone star. As red as blood, it almost seemed to be staring straight through her soul and into her mind. Delsandra slammed her eyes shut as quickly as she could before throwing her hands to her ears. It was all too much. In her mind, Delsandra begged for Phoedite to rescue her from this hell, but with no answer the princess soon felt as though she would be lost forever.\n\n_ _\nThe vision would abruptly end with Delsandra's eyes shooting open, her chest heaving in air as she came to grips with where she was now. Was this another vision? The feeling of hands on her body caused flame to erupt from her own, sending who she didn't realize were guards backing away to avoid the fire. On the ground she sat, terrified, her hands filled with flame. The look in Delsandra's eyes was enough to cause anyone to back away, but after a few short moments all she muttered was, \"Where's Zora?\" The guards began looking around, but when Delsandra realized they had no idea she screamed out angrily, her usually gentle blonde hair now burning red like the fire in her hands, \"WHERE IS MY SISTER? FIND HER! FIND HER NOW!\"\n\nDelsandra hadn't noticed, nor seemed to care that the Iron King was now in the sky of her ballroom. Lysanthir, Corinthian, Dhakashira and Caleesi escaped her mind. The only name within it now Irezora. The princess's only concern was her sister." }, { "author": "Lysanthir Tauriel Olagwyen, Master of Laws \| Lazaroth", "message": "The finale of the night had begun, and as Delsandra began her speech Lysanthir happily obliged following Caleesi to the newly formed crowd before the stage. Taking a spot next to the grandmistress, Lysanthir couldn't help but finding his eyes gazing down to Caleesi instead of the stage. Any time she dared shift her own up to him, he'd move with lightning speed to ensure he wasn't caught staring. In one of those moments, the Law Master quickly noticed a different pair of eyes on him followed by the sound of his name. It was Princess Delsandra, her smile as disingenuous as ever when pointed at him. There was a sense of pride to have someone hate him so much only to put up with him in their home.\n\nThe aasimar began her performance, and Lysanthir's eyes lit up as the music reached his ears. He had always had an affinity for music, and enjoying was just as important to him as performing it himself. Sadly, he had missed his opportunity to perform the song he had planned to, which was likely to the enjoyment of Princess Delsandra. Perhaps the dance was enough for now. After all, he had managed to make an acquaintance rather than an enemy this night. When Caleesi sighed blissfully with her longing words about being as beautiful and graceful as an aasimar, Lysanthir opened his mouth to respond but quickly stop before any noise fell from his mouth.\n\nLysanthir was likely one of the first to notice the change in the room. Heartbeats gave away one's thoughts in an instant, as well as the change in breath or the drop of a bead of sweat to the marble floor. While the aasimar on the stage performed beautifully just as Caleesi had said, the vampire couldn't help but notice those around him beginning to grow uneasy. Looking up as the angelic performer did the same, Lysanthir's heart seemed to stop. Why had the stars gone? Where was Lunam in his dash across the night sky? A dreaded pit began to grow in his stomach, an eerily similar feeling settle over him. Something was wrong.\n\n_ _\nThen, the red washed over he and every other soul in the crowd. The tremors caused Lysanthir to feel his balance go off kilter, his first option to grab on to Caleesi who seemed to have the same idea. His intention was to hold her up, but his bum leg would make that difficult. Looking around desperately for anyone or thing that may be causing this to happen, Lysanthir was quickly struck with a pain in his mind. While it was excruciating, it was nothing compared to dragon's fire, but still as crippling as it was for everyone else in the room. Through the pain he held on to Caleesi, his arms wrapped around in her in a protective shield as he tried his best to teleport them out, but to no avail. \n\nVeins popped from his forehead as he braced against the pain, but to his surprise a voice appeared within his mind. Every word felt like nails upon his brain, and he'd remember every single one should he live to do so. Not knowing what was next, the voice finally receding allowed relief to wash over him, but it was quickly followed by even more dread settling into his heart. As he looked around to see what was happening, a burst of light from the stage quickly drew his attention. It came from Princess Delsandra, her eyes and mouth now beacons of white light bursting to the heavens. \"Caleesi, we-\" Feeling the body in his arms tense, he stumbled backwards in surprise, the woman he had been holding on to now falling to the same fate as the eladrin princess.\n\nNot again. Not again. NOT AGAIN!\n\n_ _\nRushing forward, Lysanthir tried his best to stop whatever was happening to Caleesi, his heart pounding out of his chest. The vampire glanced around for only a moment and realized his queen was experiencing it as well, and then the Iron King. What the hell was happening?! For a flicker of a moment, he smelled Corinthian had appeared in the room, and with nothing more than a glance he had spotted him dashing to Dhakashira. A gentle breeze of relief brushed over Lysanthir knowing someone would be at his queen's side, but he simply couldn't leave Caleesi. Not now.\n\nAll four effected by whatever magic, curse or hell this was soon fell to the floor together, Lysanthir being sure to hold Caleesi in his arms to ensure a safe descent to the marble beneath them. Falling to his knees, Lysanthir held the woman in his arms as he looked her over. Still breathing, heart still beating- she was alive, but unconscious. The sound of glass shattering caused Lysanthir to look up, his eyes falling upon the source. Catching the tail end of Corinthian catching their queen, Lysanthir's eyes widened in shock. At least she was unscathed, but the cries of Corinthian begging for help caused the vampire's heart to stagger. He couldn't- he had to stay with Caleesi.\n\nMoments had passed and Lysanthir had barely even noticed the Iron King had awoken. The bell however, caused the vampire to snap out of his panic as he looked over Caleesi, his eyes darting upward to the ceiling. Astalios's words seemed to fall deaf upon the vampire's ears, his only concern Caleesi; but at least he was ensuring the commoners and nobility didn't do any more damage in their own panic. Another sound caused Lysanthir's eyes to dart to the stage, Delsandra screaming as she awoken sending both a chill and rush of hope down the Law Master's spine. Whatever happened to the four of them, it meant they'd all awaken.\n\n_ _\nThe sound of Dhakashira's voice was unmistakable, and even though he could not see her through the rush of people, he could hear her and Corinthian reassuring one another, her inquiry of where Lysanthir himself was causing a pang in his heart. Next would surely be Caleesi, right? She'd awaken and they could all work together to end whatever this hell was. They'd figure it out, they'd-\n\nMore moments passed. And more, and more, and more but Caleesi remained still. Pure panic and traumatic deja vu rushed over the vampire, his hold tensing over Caleesi as he shook her in a fruitless attempt to wake her up. His hold grew tighter, the visage of Calitherien replacing the high elf's face once more. He was losing her all over again. Why were the gods so cruel?! \"Caleesi?! CALEESI?!\" With no other option, Lysanthir shot his gaze upwards to the Iron King, but no words fell from his lips. The only thing the king would see was a look of pure terror plastered across the vampire's face, his expression one pleading for help." }, { "author": "The Tale Weaver", "message": "The chaos that had befallen Sorevelle seemed to have no end, even as the sky returned to its normal appearance. The stars and Lunam himself couldn't calm the terrified guests, common and noble alike. As guests fled from the room, more guards took their place, their glorious white and purple and gold armor acting as beacons of hope and protection. Many's first concern was the royalty, some rushing to Delsandra, others to Queen Dhakashira. Astalios taking to the skies did cause many to stop in their tracks; after all, he was a king. The stag's voice did seem to cause some of the guests to hesitate in their movements, but their faces still read nothing but panic. Many guards had already begun making their way to the castle grounds and various other parts of the castle such as the dining hall and throne room, while some remained in the room to act as security.\n\nWith all but one of the four now awake, concern would surely start to settle in as Caleesi had yet to become conscious once more. Within her mind, where the vision ended for all others after showing itself once, Caleesi's instead repeated. Perhaps it was the strong magic within the high elf, but for whatever reason her mind simply couldn't break from the terrifying visions whatever force had forced upon her. Lysanthir's desperate cries for Caleesi brought on the attention of many, a handful of both guards and commoners now surrounding them to see what was going on and if they could help.\n\n_ _\nThe visions in Caleesi's mind would begin to flash more quickly as time went on, but time itself seemed slow somehow. The flashes and sounds and lights and terror flooded the she-elf's mind, and on the outside many would start to see the grandmistress's body tremble and shake before it graduated to full on seizing. Her heart rate increased to dangerous levels, her eyes barely opening to reveal only the whites as her pupils flickered in the back of her head. Something was indeed wrong, but no amount of shaking or screaming seemed to bring the poor woman back to reality." }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "And she was back. Of course Delsandra could not remain rattled for long. As Irezora neared the elder Princess she felt a wave of relief at the confirming sight that Del was visibly unharmed. \"I'm here!\" She yelled, shouldering her way through the crowd and plainly into the other woman's view. \"I'm okay.\" Perhaps a hug might have been in order if the rage roiling off of Del wasn't palpable. Oh she was pissed, but whether at the guards or Zora was unclear. Then again there was a third option. Whoever ruined the party. Once glance around the room was enough to confirm her suspicion, asking what had happened wouldn't be of any use. No one knew. The elf's ears perked at the King's voice, having noticed him clamoring up seconds ago. \n\nQuickly in her mind she checked her list. With Del located and seemingly unharmed in the presence of guards they could move to the next task. \"Del he's right. I didn't see anyone hurt too badly but we need to do something. Those are Our People out there.\" Zora was prepared for the pushback, the hesitation. Would Del let her back into the line of fire? Before a response was possible she continued. \"I don't know what happened but you were here. Please, Del. I'm going to go out there and do what I can but only you can handle what's going on in here,\" She gestured to the shell shocked room. Regardless of her current opinions surrounding her sister, Zora knew her to be intelligent and especially effective when enraged, especially with somewhere to channel her anger. \n\nZora turned her head quickly to the nearest guard. \"Limit entrance and exit from the castle grounds immediately. Allow those seeking shelter but no one is permitted entrance without being searched.\" Her head swiveled to another. \"Get an account of damages throughout the city. We want to know exactly what we're dealing with when the dust settles.\" The Princess continued listing off tasks and demands, trusting her sister to operate as they had once, together." } ]	889	4,766
854	2022-12-23	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "The Tale Weaver", "message": "Slowly but surely things within Thyseer's castle had begun to slow down. Pain still rang in many of the guests heads, common and noble alike. Nevertheless, the stampedes of terrified people had turned into collections of guests either leaving the ballroom or watching the many royalty that surround Caleesi as she struggled with gaining consciousness once more. Guards of gold, white and purple surrounded the royalty, ensuring no one stepped too close. A knight returned to Princess Delsandra, reporting that Galadriel's Eye had remained untouched by whatever terrifying event had just happened and that it was now being guarded closely.\n\nThose that had surrounded Caleesi; Astalios, Corinthian, Dhakashira and Lysanthir who was holding her up would see nothing truly had changed in the she-elf. Still, she convulsed. Still, she remained unconscious. Queen Ashira's attempt to heal her would do little to help, as her magic would simply cease to exist as it touched Caleesi. It was as if a metaphorical barrier laid upon the she-elf's skin, causing any magic that attempted to invade her body to become null. \n\nWithin the Grandmistress' mind, the images of her vision would flash more rapidly with each passing second. It would become a blur barely recognizable by even that of a vampire, one that eventually would drive Anyone Mad. Caleesi's mind would feel as if a painful weight had set itself upon her, until finally the images gave way for complete and utter darkness. Within that darkness was no light, but a voice. One of a calm and protective nature, feminine in sound. Repeating the last few words of what all had heard at Sorevelle, Caleesi would awaken after it had finished.\n\n\"-only united...-\"\n\n_ _\nAs Astalios attempted to aid in some way as well, Caleesi would stop moving just as the metal had come into contact with her. Her body stopped convulsing, and a jerk stirred her awake, almost as if her mind was consciously coming back to her body. Only mere seconds later, the she-elf would finally awaken." }, { "author": "Caleesi \| Grandmaster of Magic", "message": "Within the disorderly frenzy of the Thyseer castle, peace had been completely stripped away from a night meant for celebration. Tumultuous screams and stampedes continued long after the sinister message was forced into everyone's head, sending many innocent bystanders to the floor. In the middle of the ballroom, Lysanthir was still shielding Caleesi from panicked individuals- hoping their unawareness wouldn't land a heel or point of a boot to her head. However, as time passed and the royals had brought the roaring crowds to a halt– Aids and healers could finally work their way through them to help those in need. Time had passed so slowly in the real world for Lady Scarleth. Her delicate features permanently frozen in a state of slumber as her head and neck were cradled by the strong embrace of the Law Master. It was blatantly obvious by the awakening of the other three royals that whatever magic held them under had worn off... So surely Caleesi would awaken too, right? Looking upon the woman's face, one would begin to see the faint muscles twitching, her skin freezing over as cold as ice. \n_ _\n\nOn the inside of Cali's mind, it became much more than just a series of visions that played out in her head. Again and again, the grandmistress found herself back where she had started. Waking in a pile of snow, surrounded by a field of frozen blood. It's bright crimson texture burned into Scarleth's eyes upon each awakening– Making her almost hallucinate in her vision of red. Each time Caleesi would go through the motions, she noticed that they would speed up faster each time. Snow, rabbit, blood, fire, eye. Over and Over And over again. Each replay sped quicker than the last, although the fast pace visions did not show mercy with just how gruesome they'd become. The snow felt heavier, the blood pouring higher each time. Caleesi's eyes stirred wildly to catch up with the hare as it practically floated its way across the blood soaked path- its body exploding in a tear of guts and bodily fluid that would splatter against the elf's skin harshly. Making Cali retort in a harrowing shriek.\n_ _\n\nSeconds never fully registered with the sorceress as she was plunged into the void of an extraterrestrial universe, looking down onto her world that would burn nearly a thousand times over. The flesh that peeled from once loving and compassionate hands brought a sense of terror and despair. Round and round Caleesi went. In and out of each vision like a carousel stuck in a rapid motion. As the high elf tried to fight against the current of magic corrupting her mind, it only seemed to push back ten fold. The snow would soon bury her upon arrival, frostbite coating around her fingers and toes. Coiling it's way up her skin in an unfathomable pain that penetrated her bones deep inside. Crawling her way from the self made pit, bloodcurdling screams rang into Cali's ears–Both human and animalistic– deafening her from her own throaty cry for help. As her body was ripped from plane to plane, flashing in and out of pure white and red energy, Caleesi felt as though her skin was melting just like the hands she bore witness to. Her own hands clung to her scalp, tugging at the thick tresses on her head all the while her neck whipped around from the magic sucking her back into yet another vision.\n_ _\n\nWithin the confines of her mind, Cali suffered greatly. Her internal pain showing on the outside through aggressive spasms that would leave poor Lysanthir to hold onto Lady Scarleth even tighter. Those around her who would come to lay their hands upon the elf could feel the unrelenting cold that now coated her skin. It was unnatural, painful even. But as the King attempted to help his councilor, a violent jerk overtook Caleesi. Her eyes finally ripping open. Like a corpse resurrecting, the high elf took in a deep inhale of air. Followed by the wry, muffled yell of a cry. Pushing herself upright,Scarleth's eyes remained wide with fear as she took in those around her, not fully registering the faces that surrounded her. Tears lined Caleesi's vision so much so that even as she did begin to see the familiar features, like that of Astalios, she simply couldn't look long enough before bursting into a sob. Many jumbled words fell from her lips, though none of them seemed to make full sense. Only the words \"Only United\".\n_ _\n\nNevertheless, through the woman's panicked state, she finally registered the tight sensation clinging around her body. Whipping her head around to meet Lysanthirs face, Caleesi's breath rose and fell quickly from her chest. She had enough understanding to know something had happened to her outside of her own mind, and by the looks of it, Lord Olagwyen had stayed with her through it all. Pulling her quivering bottom lip into her mouth, Cali held onto the Law Master's worried gaze, her own melting into a sense of dread and relief all at the same time. A lump began to swell within the sorceress throat, those visions still present in her mind. Before Lady Scarleth would let her emotions be seen by everyone however, she quickly dove her face into the chest of the High Lord, shoulders trembling as she cried for all she had seen...\n\nPulling her hands up to hide her face even more, Caleesi focused on the heavy scent of Lysanthir. His strong but subtle musk was the only thing able to bring her comfort from the sights and smells of such a vivid nightmare. How embarrassed the young elf felt for crying, especially into someone she had just managed to make amends with. Regardless, the grandmistress was still in shock, settling into the realization that she was back into her own reality." }, { "author": "Lysanthir Tauriel Olagwyen, Master of Laws \| Lazaroth", "message": "To say Lysathir was overwhelmed would be one hell of an understatement.\n\nScreaming and crying of those around him, the pain from the vision, King Astalios's booming bell and voice, Delsandra's screams for her sister, Dhakashira and Corinthian finding him and Caleesi as she fell deeper into whatever hell held her captive. The man had begun to tremble even, but not out of fear or worry or anger, but out of sheer nerves alone. It was too much, this night. It had proven to be far too much for the vampire, but he'd remain where he was and damn anyone who dared try and move him. Holding onto the Grandmistress, Lysanthir desperately attempted to wake her. Dhakashira and Corinthian had made their way over, and for barely a second the vampire's eyes flashed a blood red, the anxiety in his eyes betraying his steely expression.\n\nBefore the Law Master could speak, his queen attempted to heal the woman that laid in his arms, her spasms only causing him to hold on tighter. Why had she not woken up? What was holding her under for so long? Would she never waken again? It was only then did Lysanthir realize Dhakashira's attempt at healing Caleesi seemed to take no effect. Through his own hands, the vampire tried as well, but the feeling of his magic dying as it touched her skin made his heart sink. Then, Astalios descended from above, the words shared between he and everyone around them falling deaf on Lysanthir's ears. All he could hear was Caleesi's breathing, how panicked and sporadic it had become. For a moment, he looked to his queen, his eyes begging her to do something. Anything.\n\n_ _\nThe feeling of Caleesi being moved however sent Lysanthir's body into a protective fit, though he refused to say the hundreds of thoughts coursing through his mind. 'Why move her?! Why aren't you helping her?! Don't touch her!' Breathing shakily, he'd simply have to allow the royalty to make the decisions. Especially Astalios, given Caleesi was one of his councilors after all. He had every right to make any decision he wished to for or about her when she was in such a state. The vampire looked to the iron king, but rather than the anger and confusion he held in his eyes before, they were filled with worry. As the king worked his literal magic to start moving Caleesi, Lysanthir felt a change in the woman's body. A jerk caused he himself to jump slightly, uncertainty plaguing his expression.\n\nAs Caleesi came to, her scream caused Lysanthir's hold on her to tighten slightly. Lysanthir felt a tidal wave of relief course through his body, even through her panic. What the hell had happened to her? His question would have to wait for later, as the poor she-elf had begun speaking uncontrollably, her words not making any sense. He caught a bit, but as Lysanthir opened his mouth to speak Caleesi had thrown herself into his chest. Her sobs caused a pit to grow in the man's stomach, one that ached to make her pain go away and to calm her down. Unsure of what to do, Lysanthir simply embraced her for a moment before looking upwards to King Dilitrios. It was obvious now was not the time for this, something Lysanthir was well aware of, but she was hysterical.\n\n_ _\n\"We need to get her out of here. All four of you-\" Lysanthir's eyes darted over to Delsandra to ensure she knew who he was speaking to, \"-should be looked over by a healer.\" Pausing for a moment, he looked back down to Caleesi who was doing his best to hide in his chest. \"-Or a priest for that matter.\" The whispers and gasps of guests caused Lysanthir's rage to flare once more, his angered voice appearing in his queen's mind. His gaze soon followed his words to meet Dhakashira's eyes. \"Do these damned people have nothing better to do than stare?!\"" } ]	884	2,562
379.6	2023-02-05	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Princess Irezora Qinrel", "message": "The moon hung high in the sky by the time Princess Irezora dragged herself back towards the epicenter of action in Thyseer Castle. By then so many hours had passed of pacing and dictating that few pins remained to hold stray wisps of hair back from the edges of her face. Surely they had made their way back to her room by now, along with her shoes and more cumbersome layers. While such occasions generally demanded formality of dress, the circumstances of the day gave reason for the Princess to discard with more tedious hinderances in favor of a more practical uniform. Gone was the lavish purple gown fit for a festival, replaced at some point in the evening with a day dress of muted pink selected by one of her ladies. Of course, replacement slippers had come down with them, seeing as there had hardly been time for Zora to travel all of the way back to her rooms in order to change. \n\nIt was those worn pink slippers that covered her toes as they pulled up beneath the Princess on a stone bench to the far side of the ballroom. Most of the commotion had cleared, but following the conclusion of her diplomatic attempts Zora had returned to the place her sister was last seen in the hopes that she might be looped into... Well whatever was going on. The Eladrin's fingers tugged gently at the last few remaining pins securing a diadem of silver and garnet in her hair, tucking the object into the folds of a shawl bundled atop her lap. The night had brought with it a chill that Irezora had been unable to shake. The Princess' second nature to call upon fire to offer reprieve from the cold remained overshadowed by exhaustion from the day. At least, that was the explanation that sat most solidly. The alternative, that the lingering feeling of a call falling upon deaf ears when she pulled for water earlier, cast a shadow too dark to offer hope of coming warmth. \n\nHer sister was obviously no longer in the ballroom. She had confirmed as much several minutes ago, seeing as the room\n\nWas more-or-less empty. A servant here or there polished or swept in an attempt to restore the gallery to it's former pristine status. None paid any mind to the Princess as she took a moment to herself, head dropping backwards enough to press against the cold marble walls. Slowly, her neck rotated back and forth to offer some relief to her scalp." }, { "author": "Sir Rikard Van Dahl, Fulminatus", "message": "In through the doors of the ballroom stumbled a knight clad in armor, finally making his way back from wading through the sea of people that had come for Sorevelle, and stayed for the mysterious voice. It had been a hell of a night, he thought to himself, and lucky he had been out there to help corral people. Thieves had lurked within the chaos, and a fair few of them had been arrested thanks to the crocodile's watchful eye.\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. His eyes were a sea-green shade, his hair a tawny brown. The man was clad in steel armor of high quality, which bore the emblem of the royal family of Alynthi on it, etched in black and gold.\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. As his oversized sabatons clanked across the ballroom floor, he spied a noblewoman taking down her hair, the rest of them perhaps absent from the scene. He could have sworn his king was in the ballroom last, and he didn't know where to go from here. Well, best not to waste time.\n\n\"Excuse me, uh... My lady?\" He tried. He didn't speak like a nobleman, and his deep, rumbling voice and massive height contrasted greatly with the apparent youth of his face. It was a harsh clash of appearance and sound. \"Do you know where the king is? I gotta report back to him, and I've been gone a little while, so I was hopin' to find him here...\"" }, { "author": "Princess Irezora Qinrel", "message": "Footsteps. Loud ones too. Definitely not Delsandra, that was for sure. The Princess warred between hoping that she would go undisturbed and the idea that the newcomer might be an interesting reprieve from the long day. Blue winter eyes snapped open to reveal a towering figure of green, gold, and black. Alynthi, a Knight most likely, and based on his statement he had no recognition of her identity. Wonderful. Though he might be considered a gentleman, his accent indicated this was not by birth. More likely, this man rose through the ranks to secure a Knighthood rather than being given such an honor by virtue of his blood. Always impressive, but this still told Zora little else about the man. \n\nNot that it mattered. She did not have the answer to his question any more than she knew where her sister was. That didn't mean she could get away without responding. It was possible they might be able to find both of their queries if they put their heads together, but Zora was quite tired of problem solving at the moment and his request did not seem to be riddled with a sense of impending doom or urgency. Rather, he seemed a little on edge still. \n\nExpected for a knight given the day the events of that day. Though she did not recognize him from any of her earlier endeavors, the Alynthi Knights had not hesitated to join their own in securing peace and restoring order to Thyseer castle. A pang of guilt washed briefly through the Princess as she recalled leaving behind a sleeping Aspen earlier, but she waved it away, brining the back of her head away from the wall. \n\n\"I don't, sorry,\" She replied, taking on a tone more akin to those she practiced in childhood when playing pretend. While a girl it had been fascinating to mimic the speech of others. While now she understood that to be quite embarrassing, it was still a useful skill every now and then. Revealing herself to be anything more than a lady of the court would bring embarrassment or even shame to the Knight that had\n\nDone nothing to deserve such. It had taken a moment for Zora's senses of sight and hearing to align, hearing the man with her eyes closed had not prepared her to see a boyish face atop a mountain of a body. Quite interesting indeed. \"I assumed they'd come back here when finished, but it's been quite some time. I'm sure they're alright though, have you seen anything to indicate otherwise?\" Concern creased her brow at the notion that not all strings had been tied up." }, { "author": "Sir Rikard Van Dahl, Fulminatus", "message": "\"Sh-...\" He trailed off, realizing that it probably wasn't proper to cuss in front of a lady. \"Sure is inconvenient.\" It came so hard to him - the practice of etiquette. Edvard had been drilling it into him as hard as he could, but he still felt awkward when actually talking to these people born in castles of stone as opposed to houses of wood and straw and brick. They didn't talk normal, they didn't act like they weren't... Ah, hell.\n\n\"Uh, I hate to ask this, but... What are they done with?\" He had no idea. Maybe it was some kinda noble thing, like a council or something. They were always having councils for one reason or the next, and they usually needed guards for those, but the knights of Alynthi had been a little busy cleaning up the mess outside to get called in on their king's account. Besides, the guy could take care of himself most of the time. He was a warrior prince first, and honestly, with the stick up his ass, he was probably constantly checking the room.\n\nThe king was one stressed motherfucker, that was for sure.\n\n\"And no, I haven't seen anything weird, I just...\" He shrugged. \"I last saw them here, so here's where I came back. If you know where they went, I could probably go and... You know, do my job, report on what's happening outside...\"" }, { "author": "Princess Irezora Qinrel", "message": "At the hint of a curse slipping from her mouth, Zora pressed her lips together in an attempt to hide the amused smile threatening its escape. His discomfort conversing with nobility was apparent from the way he shifted and hesitated. The demeanor stood in stark contrast to the man's gargantuan size and rumbling voice. The Princess squeezed the bundle in her lap a little tighter as she attempted to redirect her attention. \n\nA much softer smile pushed its way to her lips in place of a mischievous one. With an absentminded wave of her hand she responded, \"I'd assume they're off huddled to discuss whatever it is the rest of us can't know about.\" The words were unspecific and her tone neutral. \"You might be able to search the castle, but it is quite large and I'm not sure how much luck you'd find, Ser...\" The woman's chin was tilted upward in an attempt to glimpse the man's face." } ]	380	1,898
556	2022-07-03	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Princess Delsandra Qinrel", "message": "Hearing footfalls once more, the princess looked on toward the entrance of her garden. Raising her hand from Malachite's head, Delsandra offered a bright and kind smile as her guest made their entrance; Erelias Trevarthen. A household name to be sure, especially within the home of the Noteworthy Brotherhood. While this may have been the princess and idol's first time meeting, it was not the first time Delsandra had heard of him. His songs, his way with lyrics; many an Eladrin knew his name and sang to his tune. Watching in amusement as the bard bowed so lowly, Delsandra remained seated, offering no more than a small dip of her head. Erelias' compliments to her beauty were expected, but welcomed regardless. No blush kissed her cheeks, for these were words she had heard time and time again. Nevertheless, the princess thanked her guest.\n\n\"I thank you, bard.\" Was all Delsandra spoke at the moment. Hearing her native tongue however caused a slightly brighter smile to fall upon her painted lips. Opening them once more, she returned a compliment in kind, \"It seems you are just as skilled with your silver tongue as you are with your lyre.\" After a moment of silence, the princess rose from her silver bench and wandered toward the bard. Her dress that draped around her feet almost made it look as though she were floating. The hellyenx that stood beside her soon followed, Malachite making sure to never leave his master's side. Reaching her hand out for Erelias to take, the princess's yellow-orange eyes seemed to burn through the man, almost as if they were looking for ulterior motives to his presence.\n.\n\nThe look quickly vanished however as the princess waited for Erelias to kiss the rings that adorned her fingers. \"I am sure you are aware of the Festival of Sorevelle will be upon us in only two weeks time. Preparations for the festival have already begun but- I've yet to find a suitable individual to perform as the main event. The Brotherhood is filled with options but all that I've summoned have yet to stand out to me.\" Delsandra's voice fell out of her lips like honey dripping from the comb of a beehive. Each word sounding as though it were more important than the last. Malachite eyed Erelias curiously, then up to the princess. It was almost as if the beast were giving her a look of uncertainty. \"I do hope you will not disappoint, dear Erelias Trevarthen.\" As the bard's name spilled from Delsandra's mouth, her smile slowly faded." }, { "author": "Erelias Trevarthen", "message": "A dashing smile never quite seemed to part the bard's lips, he was practised and poised, forever unwilling to disappoint his audience, no matter their predilections. Recovering from the depth of the theatrical bow Erelias pressed the palm of his hand to the centre of his chest. Dipping his head again in gratitude of flattery returned. \n\n\"My lady – you have yet to hear me play – though I have honed the art of flattery, I do believe my play at the Lyre and my musings of song far exceed it.\" In the flourish of words the Elven man had been both humble and boastful, but one well deserved nonetheless. A great many years any bard needs to hone their art of song and performance, only then may they even consider becoming a part of the Brotherhood. After comes the schmoozing and wooing of the audience, a secondary art to gain purchase of their hearts and solidify oneself as an idol. \"However to gain such high praises from you – your Majesty– is the greatest of honours.\"\n\nHer approach was as expected, the manner in which she gracefully seemed to float towards Erelias was not. Delsandra was the picture of grace, one he imagined her family was tremendously proud of. And so he would not dare tarnish that image, imbuing him with the urge to perform at his very best, would she become his patron in the arts.\n\n \nCold digits cupped the hand extended to the undead bard, warm amber gaze locked with those eyes burning of yellow and orange before they would lower. Erelias dipped down again, idle mouth hovering over the appendage before pressing an extended kiss to those rings that adorned her delicate fingers beautifully. His gaze sought to meet hers as she spoke again, finally parting lips from rings and releasing her from cold touch. Another dashing smile decorating his handsome features as he arose once more. \n\n\"I had so hoped your invitation was for the purpose of the festival of Sorevelle. In honour of which I had prepared to sing to you of Elturel–\" Erelias spoke gleefully, excited. The fae plane had been a great inspiration to his musings, many of his songs based with the fictional land of Elturel in mind. Many knew Elturel was heavily based on the land from which Thyseer had originally fallen, the home of the Eladrin. The works of fiction that depicted Elturel described a more idealised depiction of the fae plane, they were children's tales that dreamt of 'home'. \n\n\"Would you care to hear it, your Majesty? Or was there another tune you would want to see me perform?\"" }, { "author": "Princess Delsandra Qinrel", "message": "Delsandra quickly noticed the cold fingers of Erelias, something that struck her as strange but nothing more. She did not flinch at their touch of course, but Thyseer was known to be a place of warmth, especially this time of year. The princesses expression did not change until the bard spoke yet again, causing a smile to from once more. His flattery would not aid in Delsandra's choosing for the festival, but it did leave the princess wishing to hear more. When Erelias rose, Delsandra cupped her hands together in front of her before nodding to the bard's words. Most, if not all bards across the lands of Lucidien knew of Sorevelle. It was a festival of song, in celebration of music and the lyricists that create ear worms the people sing for generations to come.\n\nErelias's mention of Elturel caused a shimmer in the eyes of the princess. Stories her mother had told her as a small child came to mind, as of course Delsandra had never seen the lands from which her people came. It was so long ago, just over 1,500 years that the Eladrin and Thyseer arrived in Lucidien via wild magic portals. The largest the world had ever seen before or after. Since, the Eladrin were known to take precautions for such portals appearing once more. Many lives were lost, Alynthian lives of course. Nevertheless, the look of slight excitement on Delsandra's face was unmistakable. \n\n\"I would love nothing more.\" Delsandra replied, taking a seat back at her bench as she did so. The princess had a deep desire to see the Eladrin's home plane, but knew it would likely never happen. It was why she enjoyed songs and stories of the Fae plane. Crossing one leg neatly over the other, Delsandra flattened the crimps that had formed in her elegantly decorated dress before casting her eyes back onto the bard. Should Erelias's performance prove to be as magnificent as he had claimed and Delsandra had heard, perhaps the princess had finally found her main event." }, { "author": "Erelias Trevarthen", "message": "Though she was regal and poised to a T, not even the Princess of Thyseer was immune to the musings of home. The stories of Elturel had reached even her behind the castle walls. Erelias watched her warmly as she returned to her seat, steadying his breath, soothing the usual nerves as his hands reached for the Lyre. Those cold digits that had but moments earlier held Delsandra's hand tucking the gilded instrument into place. Carting aimlessly across its strings, plucking to test its tune before actually commencing.\n\n\"Your Majesty, it is my honour to sing to you of Home.\" Erelias introduced, taking a deep breath as his eyelids encased his gaze briefly. Steadily beginning to pluck at the Lyre's strings with purpose. As light wisps of magic began to materialise from what seemed nothing, swimming through the air like giant dandelion pods seeking to enchant any and all with the bard's musings. Then his eyes opened, and he began to sing. Erelias' voice was clear and warm, resonating like the warmth of the hearth in a place of home.\n\n \n\"A linno laer o Elturel\nO eryn, amon, a nen.\nAnor síla am ífed 'aer\nA barthed galen dhínen.\nSen dhoreb, arthor 'lass uithand,\nI vardh-i-thelyn vill.\nCairtheb cenir, cenir vi anwar.\nA gwen ú-echedir vuil.\n\nA linno laer o Elturel\nIr chyth na fenned vain,\nPharthed ristannen od thail riss,\nVorchaint gleinar edrain.\nErio Ududhrochirrim.\nOrtho vegiledh 'orn.\nHerio dagor aglareb\nA hasto i dhaehoth vorn.\n\nA linno laer o Elturel\nAdh ir galan thinna,\nOltho nu galad Taduianor\nAden i gethaeg tinna.\nAnlen im galnedif a himwaedh\nI firir a guru ero.\nA Eltruel, le linnathof\nAden i thûl gwannol.\n\n \nAs Erelias sang the manifestation of his bardic magic continued to swim through the air, towards Delsandra and her pet. Landing peacefully on their forms and would they be willing, grant them glimpses of 'home' through hallucinations of how Erelias imagined the fae plane to be. Wonderful images of exotic fauna that seemed alien, forest creatures that could only be described as whimsical cousins of Lucidien's own. Listening to the undead bard's song and allowing those enchanting hallucinations in, meant one would be able to wade into those story books of Elturel. If only for a little while." }, { "author": "Princess Delsandra Qinrel", "message": "Watching quietly as Erelias readied himself to play, Delsandra took note of each movement the bard made to prepare himself. The little movements to ensure he looked his best, the way he plucked his strings to know his lyre was in tune. It was all quite amusing to the princess, and Erelias was master of the musical craft it would seem. His announcement of the song caused Delsandra to dip her head, then he began. The gentle tune that began was quickly followed by Erelias's voice, one that struck a chord in the heart of Princess Qinrel. The melody and tune sounded bittersweet, a feeling that soon filled Delsandra's mind.\n\nHer mind flew from the courtyard, back to when she was no more than a babe. The sound of a music box filling her ears as her mother magically spun her favorite toys above her head, slowly lulling the baby Delsandra to sleep. Back in the courtyard as Erelias played, tears began to form in the princesses eyes, but she did not allow them to fall just yet. Closing her eyes, the princess allowed the song to engulf her entirely, until light struck her eyelids forcing her eyes open once more. Now, it was as if she were in one of the many fairy tales her mother had read to her as a child. Malachite's eyes widened as well, but he stayed seated as he watched on in curiosity. The fauna that now surrounded them felt alien but familiar all at once. \n.\n\nAs the song soon came to an end, so too did the lights that danced around Delsandra. The tears that had formed remained in her eyes, until one finally rolled down her cheek. A smile of fondness and bittersweet memory fell over the princess. This feeling was one she had not felt in quite some time, not even under the watchful eye and fiery passion of her patron god Phoedite. Now that silence filled the courtyard once more, a chuckle of joy left the princesses lips. \"Words cannot describe the feelings your song and performance have instilled in my heart. I can see now why the Brotherhood has named you an idol, Erelias Trevarthen.\" Malachite looked up at Delsandra to see the tear fall to the ground at his paws, and subsequently rested his head upon her lap.\n\n\"Oh, I'm alright Malachite, be still.\" The princess ran her hand over the hellyenx's head before looking back over to the bard. Wiping her eyes and collecting herself, Delsandra cleared her throat, though her smile remained. \"If you were to be invited to the festival, what songs do you think you'd perform? The Song of Elturel is beautiful to be sure, but if we have our guests crying the entire time it wouldn't be a festival would it?\" Her words were not meant to be rude or disrespectful, simply a way to lighten the air around herself. After all, Erelias had brought the princess to tears with his song." } ]	546	2,780
677	2022-12-18	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Rhurrik Nephyr", "message": "Rhurrik's eyes lit up happily at Alora's reaction to hearing he was to perform, but they quickly died down when he heard the obvious inclination that her father had passed. His brow creased inwards, as if he was silently telling her with his eyes how sorry he was for her loss. Even when the princess happily accepted his offer to sing for her, there was still that look of sadness in his eyes, even behind his beaky smile. Regardless, Rhurrik cleared his throat and sat up a bit as he took a seat in front of the princess. There was a hint of nervousness to the bard's demeanor, but that was to be expected. Performing was still something the young aarakocra had not fully gotten used to just yet. \"Well, your grace, I'll dedicate this song to your father if you don't mind.\" Offering a respectful nod, Rhurrik looked down to the strings on his lyre, and after a few silent moments, he began to play.\n\nFor a few moments, there was nothing but the melody from his instrument that filled the air. Closing his eyes, Rhurrik allowed himself to fully focus on playing over ensuring Alora was enjoying his performance. Forgetting the nerves as best he could, the aarakocra imagined he was alone and practicing as usual; it was the only real way he knew how to get rid of nerves. The tune itself was very melancholy. Slow and steady, each strum of his lyre filled the air. Then, the young bard began to sing.\n\n_ _\n\"Are you going to Scarborough Fair?\nParsley, sage, rosemary and thyme\nRemember me to one who lives there\nShe once was a true love of mine.\"\n\nThe lyrics paused for but a moment, allowing the tune to take hold once more. The melody was repetitive, but it was with a purpose to tell a story. Thus, the lyrics continued, though Alora would very quickly notice something strange; there was more than one voice now. It was still Rhurrik's voice, but somehow, magically, he was harmonizing with himself. It was obviously some sort of illusion, but one that was both a sight and delight to see and hear, as gentle lights began to dance from his claws onto the strings of his lyre, forming what looked like a silhouette of two figures dancing with one another.\n\n\"Tell her to make me a cambric shirt (on the side of a hill in the deep forest green)\nParsley, sage, rosemary and thyme (Tracing of sparrow on snow-crested ground)\nWithout no seams nor needle work (blankets and bedclothes the child of the mountain)\nThen she'll be a true love of mine (Sleeps unaware of the clarion call)\"\n\n_ _\nSoon, the pair of illusory dancers began to waltz right off of the strings of Rhurrik's lyre and into the air, now making their way to do so around Alora. If she looked close enough, she'd see it were a pair of deer, anthropomorphic like that of a shapeshifter. The doe was much smaller than the man and was laden with a green dress. The stag was mighty, with a crown upon his head. It didn't take much to realize just who Rhurrik was conjuring up in this illusion. It was Alora and her father.\n\n\"Tell her to find me an acre of land (on the side of a hill a sprinkling of leaves)\nParsley, sage, rosemary and thyme (Washes the grave with silvery tears)\nBetween the salt water and the sea strands (a soldier cleans and polishes a sword)\nThen she'll be a true love of mine.\"\n\nAs the next verse began, the dancers would flourish together and become simple lights, one green and the other a bright yellow like that of Alynthi's banner. The two began to bob and weave and chase one another in tune with the music, the melody much more passionate now in this nearly final bridge of the song.\n\n\"Tell her to reap it with a sickle of leather (war bellows blazing in scarlet battalions)\nParsley, sage, rosemary and thyme (Generals order their soldiers to kill)\nGather it all in a bunch of heather (and to fight for a cause they've long ago forgotten)\nThen she'll be a true love of mine.\"\n\nThen, the music began to slow down once more. The two bright balls of light slowed down significantly, gently hovering around one another in one final dance. Floating downward in front of Alora, the yellow ball drew near to her before slowly levitating to her chest, and bursting with a gentle wave right where her heart would be. Rhurrik looked up, his eyes filled with tears as he finished, his voice unwavering.\n\n\"Are you going to Scarborough Fair?\nParsley, sage, rosemary and thyme\nRemember me to one who lives there\nShe once was a true love of mine.\"" }, { "author": "Princess Alora Dilitrios of Alynthi", "message": "The princess lowered her hands back down to her lap and fell silent as she prepared oneself to listen to what Rhurrik had in store. Her eyes focused on the lyre and its magnificent strings. She wondered how much control Rhurrik had over every feather of his wings to be able to play the lyre. Though of course, talent never has its explanation. It's just there, belonging to its conjuror.\n\nAlora's smile from earlier remained plastered. Soon her torso began to slowly sway side to side along with his head. The lyrics were soothing, as well as the voice of Rhurrik's and pluck of his lyre's strings. As his voice began to harmonize itself, Alora fell deeper into the non-existent spell of his spell. \n\nAs the illusory dancers waltzed over to the two, the princess stopped swaying. Her eyes followed the deer pair. It was remarkable. Following the prance patterns of the deers, Alora's eyes widened. Rhurrik had seen right through her by a single mention of her father. Her emerald eyes glistened and began to feel heavy which struck the tease to her waterlines. Was it scruple of her to cry at this instant? She knew well that once a tear trickled down her cheek, there would be more to follow it.\n\nAs the two deers, staunched to one another, conjoined and shimmered the colours of Alynthi, a sniffle was heard escaping from the princess. Following that sniffle was a tear that trickled down her left cheek. The song was emotionally touching and the illusory had that bursted at her chest was just as touching.\n\nAs soon as Rhurrik finished singing, the princess abruptly stood and knocked the chair she sat on down to the ground.\n\nHer arms stretched outwards and wrapped around Rhurrik. She knew how informal it was of her hugging someone, especially someone that wasn't of her royal blood or royal in general, but she just could not hold herself back.\n\n\"Thank you... It was beautiful; the lyrics, your voice, the plucks of the lyre strings, the deers. I loved it all.\"\n\nThe princess whispered these words as the tears flowed down her cheeks. Alora was careful to not have her tears trickle down onto Rhurrik's feather as she assumed it would've been uncomfortable by using her biomancy. A handkerchief that had appeared was busy quickly wiping away any tear that was in sight." }, { "author": "Rhurrik Nephyr", "message": "Realizing he had made Alora cry as well, Rhurrik felt terrible, but that feeling was soon replaced with relief as the princess wrapped her arms around the little bard. His lyre clattered to the floor but he paid it no mind as he gently wrapped his arms and wings around Alora. The two embraced and shared the tender moment like best friends, but as the two pulled away from one another Rhurrik couldn't help but smile, even as tears tried their best to crawl from his eyes to his cheeks. \"I am happy you enjoyed it, your highness.\" Rhurrik smiled so brightly you could barely tell his eyes were open. Picking up his lyre as a sniffle escaped his beak, the aarakocra let in and out a long and shaky sigh.\n\nFeeling the need to explain himself, Rhurrik looked to Alora with a sad but happy look in his eyes. \"I believe that is what music is for. To make people share feelings that may not have felt elsewise. I have never felt the loss of a loved one, but I did through your reaction and embrace.\" Tilting his head to the side as he returned the lyre to his back, Rhurrik soon stood and picked up the chair Alora had knocked over as he continued. \"I do think, however, a bard crying over his own performances is something I should probably work on.\" Chuckling lightly to try and brighten the mood, Rhurrik turned to face the princess.\n\n_ _\nWith a sigh and a smile, the aarakocra soon had a thought pop into his head. That moment the two had shared was special, and now Rhurrik had a deep desire to keep it that way. Furrowing his brow with determination, the young bard looked up to Alora with a nod, \"I... I think that song is best kept between us, don't you? I'd rather keep it special for you, than share amongst the rest of Sorevelle. Besides, I believe I missed my stage cue-\" Rhurrik chuckled sheepishly when he realized the time. Soon, the festival would end, leaving the poor little bard with a missed opportunity.\n\nBut he wouldn't change it for the world if it meant not sharing such a tender moment with Princess Alora." }, { "author": "The Tale Weaver", "message": "For those within the dining hall of Thyseer, it may have been hard to see the night sky with no overhead windows. There were large windows along the walls however, which did allow a bit of the sky to be seen. Given how empty the dining hall was, there was truly no one that noticed the moon or stars missing from the sky above. Instead, everything seemed to be as normal. A man entered the dining hall and called over to a pair of other attendants, which all three then ran out to see what the commotion was about. After a few short moments, a terrifying red color bled through the window to the floor of the hall.\n\nThe sky was now blood red, but before either Rhurrik or Alora could truly react, their minds would be bombarded with an unbearable pain. Crippling their movements and magic, neither could truly move. Instead, they were forced to bear such a pain as an otherworldy voice invaded their minds, one feminine but terrifying in its nature.\n\n₮ⱧɆ ĐɆVØɄⱤɆⱤ'₴ ɆɎɆ Ⱨ₳₴ ₴Ɇ₮₮ⱠɆĐ Ø₦ Ʉ₴. ₳ ₵₳₮₳ⱠɎ₴₮ ɎɆ₮ ₮Ø Đł₴₵ØVɆⱤ ł₮₴ɆⱠ₣ ⱠłɆ₴ ĐØⱤ₥₳₦₮ ł₦ ł₵Ɇ. ₥Ø₮ⱧɆⱤ ₳₦Đ Đ₳Ʉ₲Ⱨ₮ɆⱤ ₳₦Đ ₴Ø₦ ₩łⱠⱠ ₱ɆⱤł₴Ⱨ, ₮ⱧɆ ₲ⱤɆ₳₮ ₮ɆⱤⱤØⱤ₴ ₩łⱠⱠ ⱤɆ₮ɄⱤ₦, ฿Ʉ₮ Ø₦ⱠɎ Ʉ₦ł₮ɆĐ ₩łⱠⱠ ₮ⱧɆ ĐɆVØɄⱤɆⱤ ₣₳ⱠⱠ.\n\nAs the voice disappeared from their minds, the pain would begin to recede as well, but lingered in the pair's bones in an unsettling way. Magic could now work it seemed, and soon the blood red color from the sky disappeared, replaced with the calm lights from the stars and moon. Screams from outside and inside the castle reached both Alora and Rhurrik's ears however, meaning they weren't the only two to hear such a terrifying warning.\n\|\|" } ]	591.5	2,708
464.333333	2023-01-03	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "Allowing the Queen access to his mind was a dangerous prospect. A spy might search for years in records and documents, creating cover stories and identities, weaving a web of lies and falsehoods just for a pale imitation of a sliver of the knowledge inside his head - for were she to read it, every plan he had made, every strategy he had ever employed on the battlefield, every gaze at a woman, every vision sent from the thrumming beat of the god of war's drum would be laid bare.\n\nAnd would she find two minds staring back at her, he wondered, or only one? The mask of a god in a horned helmet, eyes burning in malice, over the face of a man who could not keep his secrets close to his chest? \n\nHe was determined that she should see neither, if he could help it. Even if she could do so without his acquiescence, it was better that he refuse - if it were out of his hands, there was nothing he could do, but if she by some miracle were to actually keep her word, it would save state secrets and personal memories alike from the clutches of the enemy.\n\n\"I believe it better that you describe what you saw, Your Majesty.\" His eyes narrowed in suspicion. \"Though I am very much flattered by your desire to show me, I am sure words will do well to communicate your meaning.\" There was some force behind his statement, as if a smith's press had stamped out the words Communicate* And Describe Into a slab of orange-glowing steel, ready for molding into shape.\n\nThey had to cooperate, yes, but there was no reason to give up the game so soon and begin trusting each other - 'know your enemy' was an old adage for a reason, and he knew of her magics the same way she had known about his. They were public figures, heads of state - and host to many informants who no doubt could sell information for a penny or two of good money." }, { "author": "Queen Dhakashira Runacri \| Matriarch of Wolves", "message": "It could not be said that she did not try. Ashira was unfazed by his refusal, perhaps a touch vexed by the delay. To share their visions via her abilities would have been a great deal quicker, the chatter between the entire group would no doubt drag this out. She could easily manipulate each mind to think they heard their stories told, snatching the memories from their heads and sharing them with ease. \n\n\"Very well,\" Her lids fell briefly shut as the queen acknowledged his decision with a subtle nod, eyes finding his once more before she continued, \"Though I'd prefer to wait for the rest of our party, I do not wish to repeat myself.\" Telling the story twice was unnecessary, the words would be the same regardless of who heard them. \n\nIt seemed the pair had little else to say to one another. The queen would not make herself vulnerable once more, she had tested the water and filed her findings away. Her gaze broke from his, permitting Ashira to observe the ballroom through her portal. As Lysanthir and Caleesi gathered themselves to step through she watched them, features finally showing some hint of emotion: Confusion. It was fleeting, but there nonetheless. Their relationship was quite perplexing, the suddenness with which it seemed to progress puzzled her. She felt as though she was missing a great deal, but the issue fell low on her present list of priorities.\n\n\"I'm glad your Grandmistress has recovered, Your Majesty,\" Though it was another perplexity that she had been affected, \"I gather you, myself and Princess Delsandra suffered variations of the same experience?\" Ashira turned to him once more, the question twisting her expression into one of polite inquiry. The three were royalty, but Caleesi was merely a councilor. Queen Runacri pondered what made her so important, why she had been tormented more than all others combined. The words that had plagued them all echoed in her mind." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "Good that she had not tried to force the issue - though he did not know if telepathy was detectable by those that were being ensorcelled. Whatever the case, he could not act on what he did not know, and though it was less efficient to talk, it was more secure. There were items in his mind that he did not wish to spread around. He followed her gaze towards the gateway, a small spark of irritation flickering into being as he beheld what she was looking at - the rest of them dallying instead of moving.\n\n\"My apologies. It would have been irresponsible of me to expedite the process in that way.\" He stated briefly, his head shaking as he found himself once again wanting for knowledge in spite of the necessary precautions. There was so much they did not know about the red eye that had appeared, the vision that had come, the gut-wrenching voice that had appeared in his mind.\n\nShe seemed tired, he noted - exhausted, almost as if she was in pain. The closing eyes, the general mannerisms - all led to what he assumed was a large workload, or a symptom of falling off a balcony. The deep fatigue of ruling was one he had become acquainted with, and perhaps it was the cause here. Leadership weighed heavy on the shoulders of those who bore the mantle.\n\nIn any case, she was asking the right questions, and making the right comments.\n\n\"As am I.\" He remarked, eyeing the pair through the portal.* \"It would have been a great loss if something were to happen to her - there are so few good people one can trust, and she is, as far as I know, one of them.\" That might have changed, he thought to himself, given that she had made the startling move of changing her opinions on the vampire that she had been terrified of so quickly. Was it a vampiric compulsion of some sort? He had no idea - but she was mistress of magic, and knew how to shield her mind. There was nothing he could say in defense of it, other than she had somehow made a strange reversal of judgment.\n\n_ _\n\"On the subject of the vision I had, that is exactly what I intend to find out.\" He confirmed. \"None of us know what exactly transpired in the other's brief unconsciousness, and whether it is corroborated between us will tell us much about the event. If the experiences are unique, then perhaps it is more powerful - tailoring a vision to the mind of the individual is much more involved than broadcasting the same signal to the four of us.\"\n\n\"And on that count,\" He gestured to Caleesi. \"The evidence would seem to suggest we experienced different things. When they enter, we shall lay down the facts, and see what conclusions we can draw.\"" } ]	414	1,393
756.666667	2023-01-04	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Caleesi \| Grandmaster of Magic", "message": "There was no time to argue nor interject upon being carried, as Caleesi was still coming down from her high of intense visions. Each and every noise that bounced off the walls within the ballroom pinched her eardrums with such a painful force, rattling her head, and subsequently causing her long elven points to droop. Every clack of polished shoes, clank of shattered glass, or even the faint murmur and whispers- she heard it all. Still hiding within the chest of her previous dance partner, Lady Scarleth felt a significant shift in change from the once suffocating atmosphere. Those iron tight arms that wrapped around her hardly even moved as they walked through the portal. And there it was... Silence. A quiver of relief exhaled from Cali ever so slightly before she wearily lifted her head, bloodshot baby blues surveying the room. One look from the high elf showed nothing but pure exhaustion, and surely the rest could relate to her worn expression. \n\nCaleesi had fallen eerily silent since her awakening in Lysanthir's arms. Her mouth sewn shut after the first initial cry. Any and all light that used to rest in the woman's livly azure eyes died tonight. Nothing but a blank, dead stare remained. All of which was uncommon for someone as warm and welcoming as Lady Scarleth. Nevertheless, as Lysanthir placed the grandmistress into a more comfortable chair, she acknowledged him with a slow dip of the head. Silently thanking him. Caleesi's skin still itched with the bite of winter, its frozen touch lingering about like a phantom. From time to time, Cali could be seen rubbing her hand against her arms. Holding onto herself loosely but enough to feel grounded, secured. Raising her tired eyelids to meet the others, Scarleth held each individual's gazes before she parted her lips to speak. \"I am sorry.\" The she-elf began, her tone a graveled whisper, eyes unable to fully meet one another. \"Is anyone injured?\"\n_ _\n\nDespite all that had happened to the woman, her mindset was still set on helping others. Caleesi would throw herself in front of anyone before saving herself, and it would seem that tonight left her with a gut full of worry for the safety of those around her– And a pit of embarrassment rising within her chest no doubt. Thinking back to the circle of heads looming over her when she awoke, it was the last thing Cali wished for. However now was not the time to self sabotage, no. The sorceress knew that there were far more pressing matters at hand. Pressing her palms into the cushion beneath her, the grandmistress pushed her weight up to realign herself. With the grace like that of the angelic bard, Caleesi folded one leg over the other and placed her frigid fingers together neatly atop her knee. She had an act for dismissing her internal emotions, although, everyone was under the same amount of stress tonight. There was no denying that. So, instead of adding onto the tension, Cali drew an inhale through her nose and prepared herself for the tough conversations ahead. \n\nLingering within the silence a moment, Caleesi's eyes observed the Queen of Lazaroth. Never having met the woman before, she could tell that the dark elf was a well respected and feared ruler. Dropping her gaze towards her hands however, Cali could feel the small spark of magic that pulse within the Queen. She remembered feeling a faint warmth coating her before being shoved back into reality- and while Scarleth wasn't entirely sure Who It was that graced her, she couldn't help but feel the whispers of a pull towards Dhakashira. Her intimidating attire surely brought the cards of her presence to the table, along with the dark rims that sat stone cold within her amber hues. Yet still, Caleesi could sense the pulse of reluctance in her- faint but enough for her vampirism to taste.\n_ _\n\nSetting her thoughts aside, Caleesi finally drifted her eyes over to her king who was standing with boots locked onto the marble floor of the library. His sturdy gaze never seemed to leave Queen Dhakashira, almost as if he were distrusting of her before the pair's arrival. Regardless, the grandmistress couldn't care less of what he thought of her, in fact, she found herself pleading internally for home. His home. Staring deeper into Astalios's features, Caleesi sought comfort. His brown eyes were the warmth of an everlasting hearth, as if they were the wood that could burn with golden flame yet be forever perfectly entire. Hues of comforting childhood memories, as sweet as chocolate and as solid as the oak. Truth be told, Scarleth was glad to see him standing there, alive and well. It was times such as these where she had wished that time could reverse itself. Where an innocent half elf and pure noble she-elf could run around the halls once again, proclaiming about the wonders they could achieve once they grew big and strong. Caleesi's barren expression softened as she allowed herself to get carried away by her thoughts, but alas, they were quick to end upon the heated click of footfalls warping into the portal. Knowing all too well that Princess Delsandra was making her way inside, Lady Scarleth gave one final look towards the King before pulling her attention back to the front. \n_ _\n\nNow that everyone had settled in, there was nothing left to do but discuss the horrors of tonight. Swallowing the dryness within her throat, Caleesi's eyes befell to her lap. Fists balling within her palms, nails breaking skin. Nervousness was setting in for the poor high-elf. Soon, Cali could be seen picking at her skin in an anxious habit. Even within a room full of people, she felt isolated in her seat upon the couch. If she had to recite everything all over again.. Would she be pulled back under? Would the others as well? It was a terrifying thought, but if it was true everyone here experienced something different, it was knowledge that could not go unrecognized..." }, { "author": "Lysanthir Tauriel Olagwyen, Master of Laws \| Lazaroth", "message": "After ensuring Lady Scarleth was okay enough to move, Lysanthir picked her up bridal style before walking through the portal his queen had formed. The sound of King Astalios and Queen Dhakashira speaking to one another did cause the councilor to tense slightly. It didn't take noble or royal blood in your veins to know the relationship between the two kingdoms was extremely shaky. Lysanthir could only hope an argument or Gods forbid a fight broke out. It was the last thing anyone needed, especially Caleesi. Holding the woman with no difficulty to his chest, Lysanthir emerged from the portal, Delsandra close behind before looking around at the scene before him. Thankfully, the two rulers seemed to be calm, collected and patiently waiting for the rest of the party to join them, causing a ave of relief to wash over the vampire.\n\nSetting the she-elf into a comfortable seat, Lysanthir opted to instead stand behind Caleesi. Dhakashira could likely sense the vampire's intense uncertainty bubbling in his head. He was simply too wound up internally to take a seat for now, and instead would oversee the conversation between the four from the outside silently. There was relief in the simply fact that Dhakashira, Corinthian and Caleesi all were safe and still breathing, but he would be lying if he said he wasn't shaken if only slightly. Lysanthir could very easily sense Caleesi's nerves, though he held his tongue in respect for the present royalty. Coddling the she-elf right now would be highly inappropriate.\n\n_ _\nA thought did seem to enter the vampire's mind however; would discussing the visions pull them under once more? Interrupting the group for just a moment, Lysanthir offered a word of caution. \"Perhaps a magical barrier is necessary, your majesties.\" Eyeing both the Astalios and Dhakashira, Lysanthir would not wait for an answer. As he began casting the barrier, Lysanthir would simply say to no one in particular, \"Whatever magical assistance any of you may give me in this spell would greatly increase the protection. My specialty lies in illusion, not abjuration. I am no master of magic.\" The barrier spell would take time and some hushed encantations, but it would be made within a few minutes. The shimmering of the barrier being formed would begin to cascade over and around all five of those present, allowing them to hopefully speak freely without the prying eyes of spies or that of the being that harassed them." }, { "author": "Princess Delsandra Qinrel", "message": "Last to step in through Dhakashira's portal, there was obvious reluctance in her demeanor. Similar to Astalios, Delsandra was entirely unsure about stepping through the Queen of the Wolves' magical portal. It could very well kill her. The sound of voices on the other side did relieve the princess however, and with a gentle inhale she stepped through. Once on the other side, Delsandra took note of where everyone was. Astalios and Dhakashira were seated, Lysanthir was just setting Caleesi down and another seat was left open for the princess. Resting onto the comfortable and familiar chair, Delsandra placed a hand against the side of her head. \n\nRegardless of what those present thought of her, Delsandra was obviously experiencing some sort of fatigue. The initial fear of not knowing where her sister was or if something had happened to her had still shaken Del up quite a bit. And now they were to all relive the visions they had. Did they all see the same thing? Closing her eyes to rest her aching head, Lysanthir's voice caused her to open them once more, her golden hues dull and weary as she laid them upon the councilor. Contrary to what she thought of him as a vampire, his idea was quite smart. With a gentle wave of her hand, Delsandra aided in the spell as best she could, though it was obvious she had little effort left in herself. Turning to look at the other royalty, Delsandra let out a gentle sigh.\n\n_ _\n\"Let us not delay, your majesties. After all, my castle need tending to. Many guests have already begun to leave, word will spread. It'd be best to share what we know and reconvene at a later date. The Gods only know what chaos will ensue when those who witnessed and heard that voice will say and what rumors will be spread.\" Sighing in an irritated fashion, Delsandra quickly sat up, her dull eyes lighting up ever so slightly. Realizing how her demeanor may have come off, she offered an apologetic look to the two rulers, \"I apologize, I am simply tired and wish for this night to end.\"" } ]	529	2,270
737.666667	2023-07-18	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "King Galinheiros Qinrel", "message": "Even though the summit had only lasted the day, Galinheiros was remiss to be away from his daughters, mainly due to the massive distance, even though the time needed to actually traverse it was paltry. He had, of course, Intended To come to the summit, but as they were preparing to depart, news arrived of a large Fae Plane Portal manifesting near the palace. Galinheiros, not wanting to possibly endanger his daughters, sent them through and rushed off to subdue the volatile dimensional rift \n\nHe'd come back to the palace a while before they had, but by the time he was finished with the Portal the summit was already too far along to attend, so he simply awaited their return. In truth, Galinheiros wasn't much a fan of political intricacies, and even with centuries of experience he still always put internal and even familia matters before foreign diplomacy. When his daughters returned, the massive doors to the ornate throne room swinging open, his face immediately lit up into a smile as he made his way towards them \n\nBefore responding to what they had to say, however, he wrapped them both in a large (and rather tight) hug, bending down quite a bit, as he was over a foot taller than the both of them. Eventually, he released them with a chuckle, returning to his normal stature but keeping a hand clasped on both of their outermost shoulders, leaves and small flowers from his royal attire hanging down from his sleeves, hair the colour of vibrant gold hanging down across his chest, almost the exact same hue as the sister's own hair \n\n\"Welcome back! It's a shame I couldn't come, but I am as proud as I could be of you two, going in my stead, and doing us all proud no doubt!\"\n_ _\n\nHe stepped back now to a more conversational distance, letting his hands go to his sides, still beaming with happiness and pride. Initially, he'd felt somewhat guilty landing them with such monumental responsibly, but paternal love overruled it, and now he was only proud of the good work he knew inherently that they had done. Besides, he knew what Thyseer would be expected to do, they all did. The home of the most esoteric and advanced magic in the realm, it was only natural they would investigate that element of the crisis \n\n\"Interesting? Well now I'm even more intrigued, do go on!\"\n\nDespite having spent the last few hours battling with primal magic power from another dimension, the Eladrin King was surprisingly energetic - though he always was, rarely drowsy or groggy, often taking lengthy walks through the wilderness surrounding the castle in the early hours of the day, before his daughters had even woken up. He went so early half because things looked beautiful in the dawn light, and half because he didn't want to miss having breakfast with the two of them by going later" }, { "author": "Princess Irezora Qinrel", "message": "Her father's generally positive attitude, though normally refreshing, felt incredibly out of place in this instance. She minded herself that though the past few weeks and hours had brought revelations concerning the safety of the entire realm, he was not privy to as much information. This conversation was meant to correct that. Following her sister's statement, she jumped in to respond. It was better coming from her anyway. Though the role of heir was never her destiny, she felt as though the past many decades of her life had been spent in preparation for it. \n\nTrust was the principal issue at hand when it came to the information that would be disclosed during this meeting. Her conversation partners, while related and loved, each brought with them their own concerns. There was no doubt that the King of Thyseer was a good man. He ruled with a mind for peace and cohesion that one might consider admirable, if not naive. Though kind hearted, she believed her father to lack certain wisdom in international relations and diplomacy that, while unnecesary during times of peace, would be essential during a period of conflict. Thyseer had, for the most part, remained distant from the conflict on Alynthi's boarder while their mutual ally Findara provided aid. She did not fault her father for this choice. In fact, had he chosen otherwise this particular shortcoming might have been exposed sooner, creating less opportunity for compensation from other parties. \n\nSpeaking of compensation, unfortunately his heir could not provide that. It was time that pushed them apart, she told herself, not her sister's new fascination with gods and wicked deeds. There was never any clear evidence of her sister's misdeeds, and unfortunately a \"Bad feeling\" Did not prove sufficient in convincing her father that action needed to be taken. The solution following the disaster at the festival and her dream that followed had seemed clear: travel to Alynthi and secure the alliance that Thyseer woul\n\nD rely on before Delsandra had any chance of straining it. \n\nShe loved them both, unconditionally. However, unlike in the case of her father, this love did not render her blind to their shortcomings and faults. It had always been her hope that they three might come together to foster unity within and outside of Thyseer proper. As time passed, however, with one set on internal peace and the other displaying a proclivity for chaos she became increasingly less sure.\n\nThere were her own faults to contend with as well. How could she justify her time spent focused on international politics while she remained unmarried, failing to assist in perhaps the only way that might be deemed appropriate. Thyseer was not weak by any means, however, a princess was born to do just that, forge and strengthen alliances. If she were to bring her concerns up in front of the King and Heir how would they be received? She knew that in the eyes of her father her academic and political accomplishments would always come second to her identity as his daughter. One might be hard pressed to find a more loving parent. With Delsandra... Well that wildcard remained unknown. \n\n\"In short, it appears as though the visions witnessed on that evening may point towards some sort of great magical force that lies dormant. A research expedition had been planned to investigate potential leads. King Alyus even agreed to allow scholars passage within his kingdom to find this catalyst within the ice. While there is no guarantee that Gantrick is the ice being referenced it seemed plausible to all parties and perhaps the best lead so far. Findara has offered the assistance of the Order of the Mage Hands as well as the Blades of Findara where necessary. Tritheas will assist in the search in the seas nearby Gantrick. The Lazaroth Queen, Kisfire and Kara-Tur delegations all agreed to support the efforts as well, though with fewer details and some reluctance on the part of some.\" She paused, allowing a moment for the information to settle. \n\n\"I would request to continue my work in Alynthi, father. I believe there is further work to be done in light of these plans and I have the capacity to be of most use assisting our allies in conducting research and preparing.\" She added the request quickly, speaking before her worries could prevent it. Her father might be hard pressed to allow her to leave again so quickly. Worse, he might speak a little too loosely of her goals in front o\n\nF her elder sister. There was no avoiding the question, though. If he wished her to stay she would." }, { "author": "Princess Delsandra Qinrel", "message": "For the few fleeting moments her father embraced her and Irezora, Delsandra felt a wash of relief wave over her. Feeling as small as a toddler version of herself, memories of being held by he and her mother made a warmth grow in Del's heart and mind. The voices fled from her for a few seconds, and while the embrace was short, it felt like it had lasted minutes. Feeling the cold air breeze between herself and her father as he stepped away, that warmth gave way for the chill air once more. Offering a smile to the king as she had since she could remember, Delsandra looked to her sister to take the lead in the conversation.\n\nWhile Delsandra was older, heir to the throne and generally had more experience with such matters, Irezora in the past few weeks had shone more growth than Del had ever seen. The princess was not jealous nor loathsome towards her sister for it. In fact, she felt pride that what was once a little girl was proving more and more she had become a woman, a true princess of Thyseer. The two siblings had grown apart in more recent decades, Delsandra having shown much more interest in her clerical studies than anything else. The two had clashing personalities as well, and while when they were young girls the two princesses were inseparable, today was much different.\n\n_ _\nDelsandra was entirely unaware that Irezora had suspicions about the heiress and her recent endeavors. Phoedite was not a quiet god after all, and he had chosen Del for a reason. Who was a simple mortal princess such as she to deny him? Nevertheless, the visions and nightmares that had plagued Delsandra's mind had rendered her somewhat useless in the current politics. Her mind was muddied, and before the day ended Delsandra was determined to clear it by speaking with Phoedite directly. Nevertheless, the princess turned to watch Irezora with a encouraging look on her face. Dancing her gaze between the king and her sister, Delsandra did her best to gauge their father's reaction to Zora's words.\n\nThe request did not come as a surprise. Irezora had made a friend in Princess Alora- something Delsandra had not even realized had happened until after the summit. There was a pang of jealousy, but it was quickly burned away by other thoughts in her mind. Researching and preparing was something Irezora did best, but Delsandra had different plans for herself. \"We did not make any promises to aid, however we reassured the gathered parties that Thyseer likely would. After all, it is up to you how Thyseer assists if at all, father.\" Adding on to Delsandra's words, Irezora had said everything perfectly. Of course, a few minor details were left out such as Astalios's clear anger, the tensions between he and the Khisfiran prince- but that was something that could easily be missed and not brought up again.\n\nThe princess had her own ideas on how to contribute depending on the king's plans. He would no doubt involve Thyseer in the search given the knowledge the eladrin had on strange magics was unmatched, save only for the Order. Even still, if this catalyst was magical in nature, it would be Thyseer and the Order to figure it out." } ]	693	2,213
281.8	2021-11-23	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "The best place to start any real investigation was at the beginning. The local people of the town of Willowdale had likely seen Dalyor at some point in his life, and perhaps the man himself even came in from time to time.\n\nAnd the place they gathered was the Frogleg Tavern It seemed a good inn, sturdy oak. The prince was not dressed in his full plate armor, and instead wore a smooth breastplate under plainer clothes. The golden crown upon his head was covered by the hood of a plain cloak, brown in color and intentionally a bit dirty.\n\nIt was time to begin asking around. He entered the inn, striding to the bar quickly. \"Excuse me, sir. One ale, please.\" He took his seat amongst the other patrons, and began to inhale and exhale as he felt the metal clinking around the room.\n\nCoins changing hands, metal braces for tables. Torch holders. Horseshoes outside. There were many things there present that interested him - but as the bartender came back with his drink, he supposed no one would really talk about Dalyor unless he asked...\n\n\"Ah, do you know where I could find Dalyor Agarvaran?\"" }, { "author": "The Weaver of Stories", "message": "As usual, the Frogleg Tavern was a hustle and bustle of people going in, out and back in again. The tavern itself was warm and inviting. A pair of half-elf women were walking drinks to tables, and at the bar a half-orc man was cleaning cups and glasses while talking to a few patrons sitting in front of him. In the far corner of the relatively busy bar a fight was going on between what looked to be an elven woman and an orc man nearly twice her size. The onlookers cheered and jested them on, and while it may look as though the elf would lose, with one swift uppercut the orc man was on his ass on the wooden floor. Helping him up, the elf woman went on to offer him a drink, a clear sign that this was simply how arguments were settled within the bar. The overall feeling of the bar, however, was welcoming and friendly.\n\nAs the prince entered the bar, no one really stared his way or seemed to notice him much given the sheer amount of people within the tavern. He looked like any other traveler just passing through and stopping for a drink, which was common in a town as big as Willowdale. Handing a drink to a different patron, the half-orc barkeep nodded in Astalios's direction before pouring him an ale, and before he could walk away to attend to other duties, he stopped at the prince's question. The half-orc man glared at the prince, obviously not recognizing him as royalty. Gritting his pointed teeth a bit, he shrugged. \"Donno.\" Was all he seemed to say before starting to move away once more." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "Ah. So he did know the man. The stiff glare, the gritting of the teeth. This was excellent news. It meant not only that Dalyor was known in the town of Willowdale, but that he was Liked. People that knew him did not think he was a terrible person. They were protecting him, loyal and true to their friend. It made him smile. This was the sort of loyalty that was earned.\n\n\"If you would not mind, sir, it is a matter of some importance - and it requires your discretion.\" He reached for his hood and pulled it back barely enough for his face to be seen, and a small glint of gold beneath it. He quickly dropped the hood back down, making sure no one but the bartender had gotten a good look at it. \n\n\"If I might speak with you privately, I would appreciate it. You will be compensated well for your time away from the bar counter.\" He leaned in closer for a moment. \"I do not wish for the rest of his family to hear that someone has been looking for him.\"\n\nHopefully, the bartender would believe that he was trying to do the right thing for the man that had been scorned by his family." }, { "author": "The Weaver of Stories", "message": "The half-orc rolled his eyes as he looked back at the prince, but his eyes quickly widened when he saw the gold glint of what was obviously a crown beneath Astalios's hood. Listening further to the prince's words, the half-orc sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. Standing up straight, he gestured over to one of the women serving with his hand. \"Willomena! 'mere and watch the bar for me for a bit.\" Without another word, the half-orc stepped to the side and opened the lift top part of the bar for Astalios to enter. Gesturing for him to head into the back of the bar, the half-orc followed after him. Once in the back, he shut the door behind him and leaned on it as relaxed as he could. \"No disrespect, m'lord, but what does the royal family need with a gutter rat like Dalyor?\"\n\nThe half-orc didn't seem to show any hostility at all, and the only metal on him seemed to be coin and his buckle around his waist, along with a single earing in his right ear. He tilted his head at the prince, scratching his chin idly. \"Dalyor isn't exactly a man who wants to be found, and I intend to keep it that way if it has anything to do with his godforsaken family.\"" }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "He followed quickly into the back room, and removed his hood, shaking his head as it fell onto his shoulders. His smile was rather evident as the man professed his defense of Dalyor. \"Firstly, good man, I am gladdened to see that Dalyor has people that are willing to protect his life from such snakes as the rest of his family. I must also thank you for your swift and decisive action.\"\n\n\"It has recently come to my attention that his family expelled him from their presence approximately four years ago, around the same time as the previous noble family of Lerwick, the Glynfirs, died in their unfortunate fire, and their daughter was declared missing. I have reason to believe that his family is to blame for all of this suffering, and I am gathering information to prove that they are unfit to rule and have committed egregious murders.\" He laid it all out, bluntly and honestly, to the bartender. There was no reason to beat around the bush when he could instead be honest.\n\n\"All I require from Dalyor is his side of the story. I will not force him into any sort of action.\" Though, once his family was dealt with, he wondered if Dalyor and that missing Glynfir might be arranged to marry, if both were agreeable to the prospect, and rule over the town of Lerwick in peace and justice, as opposed to the vicious perjury of the Agarvarans.\n\n\"I ask your assistance in finding him. A look through the records of the Royal palace turned out to be extremely fruitful - I already have evidence to convict his family of perjury against the crown, but I will require all information if justice is to be done.\"" }, { "author": "The Weaver of Stories", "message": "As the half-orc bartender listened to the prince spin his reasoning for looking for Dalyor, he let out a sigh and pinched his nose, unsure of what to say or do. It was the Prince Of Alynthi after all. Running a hand up through his frazzled and short black hair, he nodded. \"Alright. I don't know too much about any of what you said. All I know is that men from his family's business have come looking for Dalyor, and on more than one occasion me and a few of my buddies have had to chase them off. It was obvious they weren't wanting a friendly chat with him, is all I'm saying.\" The half-orc shook his head at all the information being laid out before him, his eyes filled with a mix of anger and disbelief. \"Dalyor never told me much about why his family disowned him. All I know is they can't stand that he's still breathing with their blood in his veins, at least that's what it looks like from where I'm standing.\"\n\nThe bartender nodded in the prince's direction, and given his status as a royal, the half-orc didn't have much of a choice other than to trust Astalios and his word. He knew the royal family to be true and honest in their word, even if the nobles under their rule were less so. \"Dalyor stays here actually. I've given him a semi-permanent residence within the tavern upstairs where the rooms are, though I can't promise he won't try to run if you approach him the way you did me.\" The half-orc shrugged. \"I'd show the crown first, ask questions second if I were you- eh.. My lord.\" The half-orc gave an awkward bow, the realization that he was in the presence of the kingdom's Prince Beginning to set in. The expression on his face begged for forgiveness, though it was doubtful a prideful half-orc such as he would ever grovel or beg aloud." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "\"You have my eternal gratitude, my friend. I should reiterate that I, like Dalyor and your friends, am no lover of his family. This will end with them.\" The prince reached into his pockets, pulled from them two iron discs of metal. The first stayed the same shape, a flat disc that looked only slightly bigger than a coin. His smile was constant, an attempt to assuage the man's doubts. \"Take this. It is enchanted to protect you from an arrow or a stab. When someone attempts to strike you, the metal will leap in front of the blow, and perhaps stop it. I do not intend to sacrifice the lives of anyone I talk to in my pursuit of evidence against his family.\"\n\nThey had sent men after him, to kill him. This was another piece of information that he could use. He handed the man the second disc, which turned from iron to polished silver in the half-orc's grasp, and molded itself into the shape of a miniature stag. Along with it, he left a small purse of gold coins on the man's desk. He clapped a hand onto the half-orc's shoulder in friendship. \"This is for your services. I realize that this is an inconvenience, but I wish you good fortune in the days to come. We need as many good men as we can muster in Alynthi, and you and your friends are a wonderful exemplar of the loyalty and selflessness I seek to encourage.\"\n\n\"Now, to seek Dalyor. Which of the rooms is his, sir?\"" }, { "author": "The Weaver of Stories", "message": "The half-orc watched in astonishment as the prince worked his magic, and as he stood there with a loss for words he could do nothing but simply take the gifts Astalios presented him with. \"I- thank you, my lord. This is far too much but, thank you.\" Bowing his head once more at the seemingly endless praise for his loyalty to nothing more than a friend, the half-orc nodded his head at the mention of Dalyor's room. \"The stairs near the entrance of the tavern lead up to four rooms, his is the last on the right. I know he's here right now, though he may be sleeping I'm unsure. Most days he does nothing But Sleep.\" The half-orc ran a hand along the back his neck, his eyes casting worriedly over to the wall as he spoke. \"I'll make sure no one comes up and disturbs the two of you while you speak with him.\"" }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "\"The stag is a symbol of my favor, which you have earned. An honest man will never believe he has done enough to warrant the reward he deserves.\" He once again covered his crown and partially his face with the hood. It was time to do some digging. Dalyor's expulsion from his family spoke well for the content of his character, but what had it been for? Perhaps he was not a good person after all, but frankly, the prince doubted it.\n\nNo one has friends willing to protect him from family if he is a lout.\n\n\"I thank you once again for your help.\" With that, Astalios opened the door and strode out of the back room, out from the bar, and up the stairs, hoping not to draw too much attention from the crowd as he ascended to the rooms above the tavern. \n\nDown the hallway he went - the stairs led to the hall, the last on the right was the room of Dalyor. He raised his hand and gave a few firm knocks on the door, then looked back to make sure that no one had followed him or was currently in the hallway." }, { "author": "The Weaver of Stories", "message": "\"Thank you, your majesty.\" Was all the half-orc said as the prince made his leave. As Astalios made his way through the bar, the only eyes that seemed to watch him were that of the half-elf woman that had taken over the bar while the bartender was gone. She eyed him curiously, but the half-orc shrugged it off as a simple business issue between the two. She shrugged and went off about her duties as the prince made his way upstairs. As Astalios knocked upon Dalyor's door, jostling could be heard from the other side. A groan could then be heard before the door opened, and a disheveled elven man stood in the doorway. \"What do you wa-\" He stopped a moment when he realized it was a face he didn't recognize, and immediately become defensive. \"You have the wrong room, sir.\" Dalyor then began to close the door." } ]	266	2,818
312	2021-11-24	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "\"No, I don't believe I do.\" He removed his hood, revealing a face that should have been familiar to a former nobleman, and the crown that signified his station. So this was Dalyor. He was no nobleman anymore, this was true - but there was nothing wrong with that. His character would be tested by how he dealt with the coming scenarios.\n\n\"I must ask to speak with you. Nothing more - but I also would like to refrain from letting anyone know that I am here, lest your family catch wind that I am investigating them. May I come in?\" He asked plainly, leveling his eyes at the elf. Would he slam the door? Would he defy him? There was a good range of responses he could expect from Dalyor, and he suspected that they were not exactly going to be the most favorable if he were anyone other than the crown prince of Alynthi." }, { "author": "The Weaver of Stories", "message": "As the door began to shut, Dalyor stopped a moment to look at the man in front of his door. Realizing who it was in front of him gave Dalyor pause, but he didn't open or close the door anymore than it already was. Listening for a long moment, the mention of his family caused him to flinch before he let out a shaky sigh. \"I-..\" Dalyor closed his eyes tightly for a moment before letting out a sharp sigh. \"Fine.\" The elven man opened the door to his room and rushed the prince in before quickly closing the door behind him and locking it not once, not twice, but Three times. With an anxious sigh, Dalyor made his way over to a chair and offered one to the prince before taking a seat himself. \"I'm- I'm unsure why you need me for information on my fami- my Former Family. As I'm sure you've come to know, I no longer carry the Agarvaran name.\"" }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "\"My deepest thanks to you.\" He sat down and inclined his head briefly to Dalyor. The man was nervous. Feared his family, perhaps. There was paranoia in him - paranoia and a certain unsteadiness that Astalios hoped to help heal.\n\n\"I have not come to pull you out of your life, Dalyor. Your Former Family has committed a number of crimes that were brought to my attention by a rather mysterious hooded friend. I did some investigation of my own in the royal archives, and I have now found that your family can at least be convicted of perjury, with the possibility of their convictions for slavery and murder. I intend to see justice served.\" He laid it out in a similar fashion to that which he had for the bartender.\n\n\"If you could, I would like to know what occurred that they cast you out, what happened to the Glynfirs, and if you know what happened to the town of Heartford.\" He inhaled and exhaled calmly, his hands clasped together as he surveyed the elf in front of him. \"It is, of course, your choice to talk to me, but I believe their convictions are necessary if I wish to stop the suffering of the people of Lerwick, as well as avenge the Glynfirs and citizens of Heartford.\"" }, { "author": "The Weaver of Stories", "message": "Dalyor reached for a bottle of what could easily be assumed was alcohol before taking a small swig, his nerves clearly getting the better of him. Astalios should know better than anyone how a nobleman should look, but Dalyor was clearly an outcast from that type of society. Now in practical rags, it was strange to seen a noble, An elven Noble, in such a state of disarray. Nevertheless, his expression only soured more and more as Astalios spoke of his family, his family who threw him out for practically nothing. However, Dalyor's eyes noticeably began to water ever so slightly at the mention of the Glynfirs. \"The Glynfirs were nothing but harmless and selfless individuals. They gave more of themselves than they could manage at times. My father, Hagred Agarvaran tried time and time again in his nearly 600 years on this earth to purchase the Lerwick Mining Company. He tried long before the Glynfirs had it in their posession, even before I was born. Them managing to buy it and take over when he couldn't was only the start of his hatred toward the half-elf family.\"\n\nDalyor shuffled his feet uncomfortable and let out a sigh, his eyes seemingly bloodshot and strained. Talking about it all obviously made him uncomfortable, even in a state of mourning, but he continued nonetheless. With a large and shaky sigh, Dalyor spoke once more. \"I am to blame for the Glynfirs deaths. Along with the citizens of Heartford.\" Looking up, Dalyor locked eyes with the prince, only to ensure Astalios knew he meant every word he spoke. \"The Glynfirs had a daughter, Viessa. She and I- well, she became pregnant. When my mother and father found out, they were furious that I had 'dared to share pure Agarvaran blood with dirty halflings.'\" Dalyor scoffed at his words, his head shaking with disbelief. \"We had plans to elope, at least from my family. Hers was more than happy to welcome me into their lives.\" Dalyor's eyes seemed to trail off in a saddened bliss, almost as if he were back with his\n\nLover once more.\n\nBlinking himself out of his stupor, he continued, \"Finding this out, my family came for me. I thought they only wished to bring me home but-\" Dalyor trailed off, his eyes filled with a deep sadness and regret. \"They locked her and her entire family in their manor! Burned the house with them alive, with me Child Still in its mother!\" Dalyor threw the bottle of alcohol he had in his hands at the wall and cupped his head in his palms. Taking a moment to breath, he shakily continued. \"I- I watched it all and could do nothing. They Made Me watch. They got everything they wanted by slaughtering not only a family, but the rest of the village as well. They carted the survivors of Heartford away, murdered the only woman I ever loved and bought the mining company as if they had nothing to do with the murder of a pregnant mother.\" \n\nAs Dalyor poured his heart out for what could easily be assumed as the first time to Anyone, something was obvious; he had no clue that Viessa's body was never found. Her whereabouts, whether she was alive or dead, were still in the air. Defeated, and with tears starting to stream down his dirty face, Dalyor slumped back into his chair. \"The only other thing I know is that a family worked for the Glynfirs were sold away. Olivewood or Ilvenwade, something like that I can't remember. There were rumors they were human, but that's all I know. Once Heartford was gone, I managed to escape. I think-..\" He stopped, almost as if he were about to throw up. \"I think they had plans to kill me too.\"" }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "It was much as he expected. The Agarvarans had tried to take the mine, and the Glynfirs had resisted them, creating the enmity. There was only the beginning of what sounded like a rather nasty feud, ending in death...\n\nBut that was not all to be gleaned from the conversation. The revelation that this man was the lover of the missing member of the Glynfirs was a surprising treat. It meant that if the two could be found and wedded, then no legal crises would occur, and by both right of contract and right of inheritance, the family would rule Lerwick. It was hard to keep from smiling at the prospect. This man missed Viessa quite a lot - in a way that made the slight twinge of wistful jealousy prick his heart.\n\nHe wished for someone to love as much as the pair clearly had. It was enough to defy Dalyor's parents. Whether the outcome had been happy was another story - one that had not yet ended, if Astalios was to have his way.\n\n\"Take heart.\" He replied to Dalyor gently, and placed his hand on the wretched nobleman's shoulder. \"Not all is lost. Viessa may yet live. She is missing - not among the dead in our records. My spies are searching for her even now. Her body was never found. There may be a chance yet for you to see your child - and marry the last Glynfir, if you so wish.\"\n\n\"Furthermore, you are eyewitness to enough that I can nearly rule summarily in your favor. Judgement on your family will be swift, I can promise you that, if you respond to my summons after I place your family in custody before their trial. I shall need you and your Viessa as witnesses, along with one of the Olvenwoods, which I have probably met. He is now a vigilante of sorts.\"\n\nThe problem of getting Richard to appear at trial was a rather easy one now - perhaps he could even rescue the rest of the Olvenwood family, and bring them back to Alynthi unharmed. There was much investigation to do once the Agarvarans' personal records were seized." }, { "author": "The Weaver of Stories", "message": "Feeling the prince's hand clasp on to his shoulder, Dalyor looked over to him with sorrowful eyes. It was as if all the hope and happiness was gone in his heart, mind and eyes. Though as Astalios told what he knew of Viessa, Dalyor nearly fell out of his chair in disbelief. \"She's- there's a possibility she's alive?!\" Dalyor was practically reeling at this information, but as the prince spoke of giving his family the judgement they deserved, he could do nothing but nod, a determined look now on his face. \"I will be there. I Want To be there. With Viessa once she's found.\" Dalyor stood up and clasped the prince's hand in respect and confirmation. A fire was now alight in the elf's eyes, almost as if finally some semblance of hope had returned to his once lifeless eyes. \"I will do everything I can to rectify my family's transgressions. I want to right their terrible wrongs, my lord.\"" }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "\"Patience. For now, I only need you to stay here. Wait for me, and I shall send you word when your family is imprisoned awaiting trial. I must warn you, Dalyor, the process will not be pretty. There Will Be executions in store for your family. You have the opportunity to make a new start - I must have someone to rule Lerwick, and if you so choose, I will appoint you its lord after the trial, with Viessa as your lady. It is a powerful claim to the area.\" He spoke calmly, slowly, purposefully.\n\n\"Your choice. I can appoint one of my soldiers, whom I trust, to the position if you would prefer another life. But consider the offer. Do right where your family did wrong. You may even take the Glynfir name if you so choose, and continue that family's legacy from where it ended.\"\n\nHe stood, covered his head with the cloak once more, and handed the man a small iron disc that warped itself into the form of a silver stag. \"A symbol of my favor. The bartender has one as well. A good man. Consider him for your household if you will take the offer...\"" }, { "author": "The Weaver of Stories", "message": "\"I expect nothing less for them all, though-\" Dalyor paused a moment, his eyes filled with concern. \"I can assure you my sibling had nothing to do with their misdeeds. I'm sure you'll need to pursue all possibilities but, my sister is who helped me escape in the first place. I'm sure she's only playing along to ensure her own safety.\" As the prince mentioned Lerwick and the possibility of a fresh start in the life he once had, Dalyor nodded respectfully. \"I will do what is needed of me, my lord.\" Taking the gift from the prince, the young elven man looked down at it with hope in his eyes. He could have a life again, a family. Clutching the silver stag, Dalyor nodded in thanks once more to the prince. \"Thank you, your majesty. I can never repay what you've done for me.\"" }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "\"Of course you can repay me.\" He waved the comment off. \"You will do it by being a just and kind ruler to the people, if you so choose, and by living a long and happy life with many children around you. I trust that the slaving business of the mines will be stopped, the personal records of the family turned over to the crown, and your testimony to sort out all misdeeds in court. As it so happens, I am the judge and the jury. I only need you to explain this to the ladies and gentlemen there present, that they may witness the trial and observe my lack of bias in this particular scenario.\"\n\nHe turned on his heel, and with a wave of his hand, unlocked all three mechanisms, turning the metal in its place and drawing back the bolts. \"Until we meet again.\"\n\nHe stepped out into the hallway with hood drawn, and returned to whence he had come. It was time to give a rather nasty surprise to the Agarvarans..." } ]	216	2,808
375.4	2023-04-19	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Santiago Toro", "message": "The day had been long and peddling for costumers was certainly very difficult for Santiago. He wasn't sure if such difficulty was caused by the exhaustion of going to a very social place to try and sell his wares or his own gruff, woodsy, and calloused appearance accompanied by his cruel mass of muscle that likely scared most away. He had done his best to clean himself up before he visited his hometown of Dalery on the way to Willowdale, and yet the very few coins in his pocket made him feel like he didn't do enough. He wanted to buy himself a beer, but he knew he'd need this money to buy food for the journey back and heating oil for his home. Or maybe save up for a newer... Stronger axe. He sighs and told himself mentally to keep dreaming\n\nHe looks up towards the tavern he had just entered, where he stands statuesque in the doorframe like he had been rooted there in mystical thought for a moment. Thank goodness a poor unfortunate patron didn't need to leave, or else they'd have to get around him, which was certainly the task while he was in a bit of a melancholy mood.\n\nHis footsteps lumber large as he makes his way over to an empty table, his shoulders slumping as if doing so would make him and his cruelly muscular shoulder mantle any less noticeable. He even wore his cloak today, just to help him feel like he could hide and distance himself from it all, especially after today. He needed something to chase this away, and no, the embarrassingly noticeable of a wailing booth seat would not do that for him." }, { "author": "Vierna Argith, Enchantress", "message": "What seemed local to Santiago remained ever foreign to the next entrant to this simple tavern. Another would stumble upon this doorway, less melancholic and a far easier sort to get past thankfully. A smaller figure, a woman shrouded less so in the secretive leathers and more so a more affluent style. What once was a hood raised remained lowered, and the darkened skin of a pointy eared figure. \n\nAt first she would catch looks just for the sake of blocking out that showing of the sun outside, then came cause for curiousity and soon.. Suspicion? Why of course, for she was none other than a Drow. Lazarothian, a kind with an ever so complex history on this side of Lucidien. Even with the slightest of utterings made by the locals, this one wouldn't hide her features or consider the thought to cower away from such a Tavern. No no, she was determined to find some service! \n\nVierna was her name, and of her features they seemed particularly exotic for the type Alynthi usually found. Her skin was darker than most, accompanied by the rare mutation of white dapples which only further highlighted the appearance of a dark night sky. Her eyes, particularly pale and blue only mirrored that tone. Her hair, silvery white as befit most of her kind. She certainly looked young, but for a pointy eared one like her it was hard to tell with such a long existence. \n\nBe it suspicion, curiousity or intrigue at her features, there certainly held a confidence in her step. As some may have known, a Drow was no stranger to confidence. This one seemed particularly wealthy by her style of garb and her very look, but she was neither guarded by an escort or company to boot. Neither did she seem afraid of associating with the 'lesser class.'\n\nA casual glance lingered back at those watching her, seeming to lack much weaponry save for that sly gaze. Ever so simply she passed by the table where the lone hooded one sat - possibly saving a glance or two at the sheer size of the man. Still, the bar awaited and she seemed most verbal, a low utter to the bartender for a drink and offered with a careful smile. The Bartender showing caution, but going along nonetheless as she offered her coin." }, { "author": "Santiago Toro", "message": "He was certainly not watching her. In fact, he wasn't watching much of anything but the imaginary mug of beer that he blocked out and shaped with his hands. He took off his hood directly after she looked towards him; it had shielded him from the knowledge of a passing gaze of what was likely judgement. His skin was tan and his hair was beautifully shiny and very dark mess on the top his head, fortunately it looks nice enough that he needn't care for it all that much. He has a healthy amount of dark facial hair that seems to callous and rpughen his skin even more, despite his eyes still remaining endearingly soft.\n\nUpon idly glancing at the bar and considering, then he spots the affluently dressed Drow woman standing out in a much more evident way than he did, and he's momentarily glad that there's someone to take any eyes away from him. The one thing he lacked was the confidence... At least in a public space like this. Nobody here saw him when he was with his family, with the ones he cared about... His friend... Well... He didn't really have any close friends that he really showed himself to at the moment. And yet his heart still whined about his loneliness even though he chose to be a solitary woodsman and led such a lifestyle as he\n\nHe thinks of getting a beer again, and this time a pang of peckishness strikes him. It's too bad he couldn't just skewer some dying animal and cook its meat like he did back at home... Because there weren't animals like him around here. He figured that he'd at least to try and distract himself from his day of poor sales and the great effort he made for such meager results. So, he entertains that passing curiosity that most here would have around these olaces towards a Drow, and he stands. Another distinct groan and creak of his booth seat rings out, signaling hs rrival as he sinks down into a seat nearby the drow woman, saying nothing, basically twiddling his thumbs" }, { "author": "Vierna Argith, Enchantress", "message": "It wouldn't be long for the glass of drink came to the She-Elf, offered with a faint nod by the bartender which she took rather graciously. A grip made for the cup, a sip, then the sudden creak that rang out behind her. Bickering and noise, quite the show in a Tavern. Plenty of strange faces to meet, both a good kind or bad ones. This one that attempted to distract himself with the sudden arrival of a Drow seemed unclear as of now. \n\nIt was quite hard to ignore the lumbering presence that showed itself nearby, caught by a flicker in her vision. A casual sip would be made, then a simply side long glance that truly took a moment of surprise. - That height difference was certainly notable, and the bulk of the man surely brought some shapeshifters of Gantrick to sheer shame. Nonetheless, quite the intimidating sight would have usually scared off someone of her size and preparedness but not her! No no, confidence in the exterior was her main priority. \n\n\"Hm..\" - A low mutter came from the Drow's lips, that sidelong glance soon rather shamelessly shifting into a blatant turn of her head as she looked the man up and down with a curious narrow of her eyes. Was he.. Just twiddling his thumbs? It was an amusing sight, for someone of his size. She certainly judged his look and clothes in some silence, gauging just what she was potentially having to face. But, she wouldn't make it so simple as to start off any play of words. No, she intended to wait and see just what would happen next." }, { "author": "Santiago Toro", "message": "The woodsman brought his coins clumsily into his hands and wet his lips as if he was about to say something to the bartender before he slips them away. For a moment, he felt so incredibly awkward he wondered if he should just pack it and leave. He always put on a gravely, stony expression in new places, because he hated being overwhelmed by the bustling chorus of man, which sounded cacophonic next to nature's chorus\n\nHe looks aloofly back to her, feeling the sidelong glance as most humanoids do, giving her an also analyzing look. Or, it likely just seemed as such as he didn't have much a sense for people beyond what they looked like, so he was absorbing that and the nice clothing for the moment. He had to look down... Something he did often, but he realized he probably needed to soften his expression if he didn't want to scare her away... Why wasn't she already?\n\nWhen the glance turned into a full on once-over, he squints a little and frowns. But when he spoke, it didn't come out harshly or angrily, moreso like a grand thrumming murmur that rose up from the very earth and roots itself, like it rose from the depths of his wide and quite muscular chest to his lips.\n\"What do you want, ma'am?\" He decided to approach this like he would a prospecting customer seeking him out. It was evidently not very good or practiced as he didn't get many patrons in this town" } ]	337	1,877
431.6	2023-04-20	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Vierna Argith, Enchantress", "message": "A reaction was what she most desired, that slight probe into what she thought was some member of the local community -her ignorance be damned. Despite the frown, the words this Lumberjack offered seemed quite intriguing. No dismissal, more a man's attempt to start some type of conversation. \n\nAt first, the rare vocals of the woodsman caught some surprise from her. It certainly matched the look of this one, quite the threatening murmur even when not intended. The Drow however wouldn't shuffle back or reconsider, simply remain in this bubble of feigned courage. Her blatant stare towards him wouldn't cease by the mere awkwardness of the situation, no, rather a controlled turn of her head after she had her fill. A swift raise of her glass again, as she took one more sip of her drink before finally offering some way of reply.\n\n\"Just.. Trying to figure out what you do. I was thinking you were some warrior at first, but that's just.. Too obvious.\" - And out rang the much different tunes of the Drow beside him. The foreign tone of Lazarothian culture, a flair of Eastern-European familiarity. Her words seemed soft, trained, yet offering a subtle power by every utterance she spoke. Perhaps she was use to commanding most conversations, something more surprising due to the supposedly intimidating presence that she offered her brave words to. That sidelong glance returned of course, an ever so casual bluntness to the fact she was sizing up this giant stranger beside her. How he would react, she had no idea.." }, { "author": "Santiago Toro", "message": "It may have been ironically that he was giving her what she wanted with just asking such, but he didn't know better. And yes, despite seeming outwardly standoffish he didn't just riposte with a brutish dismissal, because his subconscious mind still laid intrigued and spun his words\n\nHis voice did drip with a earthen, hardy power, a power that its wielder occasionally loathed, with this moment being one of those occasions. He knew not of anybody that found awkward and silent walls of sturdy flesh desirable or sociable. He is again surprised that she seemed to take her time with it, and not scurry away as mist do. He hadn't met a dark elf before like he had read of in a book as a child... He had started to think them fantasy by virtue of not noticing any one that did shuffle by in a crowd. Did they all have such subtly brazen confidence?\n\n\"I'm a lumberjack. I thought That Was obvious.\" He regards his axe that he had left to assert claim over the table he started at. He wouldn't even respond to the part of being a warrior, because no... He certainly didn't come with the extrovertedness and such forced, showy charisma to fit the definition of a warrior, by romantic fantasy's standards. He did surely have the fury and anger of one, just bubbling below the surface and waiting to be riled. The only tell to this was his cruelly muscular form and intimidatingly large frame. When she continued to size him up as if she were going to test his mettle, he lets out a grumble that could be mistaken for a moment's thunder\n\"If you wanna fight, it ain't happening.\" He takes a guess at what the other would want, as he supposed her confidence was derived from something of a smug pretentiousness" }, { "author": "Vierna Argith, Enchantress", "message": "Oh, how one could imagine the tales of the Drow spun in a place like Alynthi. Deceptive, dangerous, meant to be treated with suspicion. A cruel history with ties to those considered a foe to all: The very Dragons that brought the downfall of the Human species. But of course, many years had passed since such a known tragedy. The Night Elf certainly were known for their pride, but this one's bold courage seemed especially unique. The act of one who knew her words well, even without the blatant show of martial might to back those words up should she ever need it. \n\nStill, the gruff response from the lumbering man seemed to ignite a curious perk of that Drowish brow. An ear perked from behind her silvery locks, long and let loose for the time being. She certainly had her opinions, one so blatant as to be quick with some reply. - perhaps a surprising interaction for one usually scaring those away. \"A lumberjack..?\" Her tune uttered in curiousity, a gaze lingering over to the suggestion of the table. And there, an axe would appear! Oh, how obvious indeed. Vierna wouldn't be made to look the fool however, a keen wit in quick reply. \"Tst, is it so obvious? Some man with an axe makes him some tree cutter? I've known them being used for war, too, you know..\" Her tone never seemed entirely harsh in nature, an extroverted tune clear by the way she carried herself. That much became clear at the next fling of words offered by the gruff man.\n\nA clear show of surprise startled her expression, almost shamelessly offering some way of a snicker as Vierna made that returning glance at the Lumberjack again. - \"..Heh, now you're the one not seeing the obvious. Fight you? That's.. Heh..\" She seemed speechless in that moment, or perhaps just considering the words. Whatever the case, the Drow didn't seem dismissive of conversation with this Alynthi stranger. This foreign traveller ever so loved to understand this new world she had been long barren from. - \"..No. No fighting. But you spoke first, so don't expect to run away from a talk so quick, Sir 'Obvious Lumberjack'.\" There was that casual arrogance lingering somewhere in her tone, a pride cementing her words yet it felt playful in other ways, too. She seemed good at creating some way of a friendlier atmosphere - atleast better than what one might expect from a Drow." }, { "author": "Santiago Toro", "message": "Santiago took no mirth in them personally, partially because nobody had ever cared to tell him such rumors and stories. In many ways, he was isolated and distant to whatever culture may have thought, and that might have been why he doesn't seem all that apprehensive of her person rather than her action. As for the dragons... Well... As a half-human himself he had been imbued with a fear of them evidently but was not very aware of Drow's role alongside them. Even if he did know, however, that wouldn't make him drop his stony expression or give anything away\n\nHe seems to pick up in the ear twitch and the cocked brow, and he thinks to himself about what he could have gotten wrong this time. And yes, much of social interaction with strangers outside of his natural element seemed a surprise to him since he did not engage in it often. Willowdale wasn't like Dalery, after all. There was none of the life and small stillness of home in it, like there was in a forest* \"Yes, a lumberjack...\" And he practically thunders forth a follow up \"And yes, it is obvious, but maybe not to somebody who wears the wealthy's clothes.\" He goes and gets his axe \"Anybody can tell this is a lumberer's axe, not a war axe. Us lumberjacks can afford a nice gilded war axe like the one you may have at home.\" He narrows his eyes at her, both implying that she did not belong here and that she would not so easily twist this back on him. His voice also remains calm\n\nSantiago visibly and deliberately frowns when she snickers at him \"We're even then, so there's no need to snicker about it. You can do that elsewhere.\" He merely shrugs his shoulders as he gets what he thought from her when mentioning a fight. She surely wouldn't stand up to him in that fashion, and he'll readily acknowledge that it was stupid of him to guess that first.\n\nBut he can't hold onto that feeling for long, also not wanting to leave grumpier than which he came. He rolls his eyes a bit, and groans quietly so that it instead feels like the irk of a floorboard or tremor of the ground* \"Just call me Santiago. What about you?\" There was no chaser about that one, at least he had returned to a more neutral state than before likely by her way of creating a friendlier atmosphere" }, { "author": "Vierna Argith, Enchantress", "message": "This one certainly pulled no punches. A quiet glance lingered down to the aforementioned clothing that clung to her, certainly a showcase of her wealth without so much of a mention of it. Of course, there lied a deeper tale to her existence here yet it seemed this Drow enjoyed watching Santiago muster his thought process. A faint hand idly tugged at a strand of the fabrics that closely clung to her neck region, a soft fidget as she looked over the man who went for his axe to proudly remark on its simple nature and of her own privileged ways. It was quite the show. \n\n\"Tsst, okay okay.. In Shara's name, I dare not question your far wiser knowledge of axes and lumberjacking.\" Submitting to the superior wisdom of Santiago, the tone uttered seemed a blend of dramatic and playful. The very topic as a whole seemed to intrigue her, pale blue gaze set upon the lumberjack axe that the man keenly presented. Of course, she certainly understood the insults against her superior wardrobe and the supposed war axes darted along her walls at home, but it was a wound she best keep quiet on.\n\nBefore responding further she allowed the utterance of his name to bring her to action, a clear sign that she wasn't being entirely repulsive to this proud lumberjack and his trusty simply axe. A faint smile would be offered, yet the flair of Drow mystique best remained with those sly stares looking casually at the Half human. \n\n\"No need to snicker? Oh, come on. Imagining us two fighting, of course there's the need. Tst, I meant no insult by it. Just.. It's amusing to me.\" Vierna offered, the flair of Noble speak always finding a way to seep through her foreign accent. \"Quick with a name for one who wears the clothes of the wealthy, heh. Vierna.\" A brief nod would be offered quickly after, that faint smile returning after a fairly swift sip of her drink. Clearly, she had no plans to hide away her identity, nor attempted to bombard him with questions just yet." } ]	431	2,158
358.666667	2023-04-23	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Santiago Toro", "message": "It lingered for a good while on his countenance, that look of earnest apology. In the end, he didn't care to hurt anybody's feelings, mostly because those that he gave such a brunt attitude to were those that didn't seem to have many feelings at all, at least outwardly. And, well, it was true that the silence felt like punishment, as his great strong mantle bows and hunches down, looking away. He even scratched the nape of his neck as an excuse to look away and fill the time in waiting for a reply. This conversation stuff was difficult for him\n\nHis whole cloak seems to fall onto him, enough to trace the outlines of his shoulders and back as he slouched forward.\n\nBut then, finally, after his eyes really began searching around for an escape... She responded again. Now he turned his head back slowly and met her stare earnest, not buckling to it but in a more sincere and firm way rather than intimidating or aloof. He felt like he was in the clear now especially with her acknowledgement of understanding, and he figured it would be better for himself if he didn't bounce around nervous questions in his head. Thinking was often overrated, anyways, because whenever he did it it just seemed to grip him and not let him go.\n\nAll things said, he still did not like that smirk. A tinge of indignation bubbles but then he softens it, realizing that his primal heart was just flaring up over something that likely meant nothing to the woman.\n\nHe swallows upon hearing what she said, knowing that there was a degree of mutuality in their presence here. He merely thought it'd be... Stranger for the wealthy looking Drow woman to be in a place like this, that was all. He wanted to say that, but instead what came out was \"Yes. That makes a lot of sense when you say it like that.\" He pauses, the other things he wanted to say running away from that. He merely muses avout nothing \"I like that thought. O-of only representing yourself, that is. And no, I am not. You are...\" But he couldn't find the word. A horrible embarrassment washes over him, and his expression shows his befuddlement at finding the right word" }, { "author": "Vierna Argith, Enchantress", "message": "Oh, she could tell her silence was a powerful tool. The poor fidgeting from the large man was quite the fascinating sight - how much control she could muster over Santiago just by the fluster of words offered. Of course, she hadn't even considered making use of her otherwise secretive magic that lurked from within.\n\nRegardless, Vierna watched with some satisfaction of the relief the lumberjack discovered by her words, ever the worthy sight to behold. Eventually that smirk lessened to a simple smile, a hand reaching to flick casually at her hair while she otherwise chose to listen and see just what Santiago had to say.\n\nLike he mentioned before, there was quite the clear hint that he struggled with his words. There would be moments of acknowledgment with a nod, a curious swirl of her cup until his final fumble. Oh gods, was she curious now.\n\n\"..Oh? I struggle with some words too. Not my native tongue, this common language. I'm.. What?\" - Vierna questioned simply, a swift move to reassure his worries aswell as that shameless curiousity out in the clear." }, { "author": "Santiago Toro", "message": "Of course the man isn't one to be proud of showing a sign of weakness or an opening to take advantage of, but he inevitably did here and there. His aloofness and brutish \"Big stick\" Diplomacy in his phsyicality whne push came to shove often prevented him from being controlled or manipulated... Or so he thought. He can't suspect one of magical hyjinxs as he doesn't even know how to recognise it. He really should know better that elven races were inclined to such as a half-wood elf himself... But he wasn't very.../close/...To his racial heritage outside of his natural woodsy-ness.\n\nSantiago does seem to notice the smirk turn into a smile, and it was evident that he liked it better that way, one could tell in his eyes\n\nBut yes, words did fail to express the compliment he had about smiling, maybe because his mind didn't think it appropriate at the moment. He goes grave and muttered and mumbles a bit trying to stall for a word as he sees her swirling of the cup stop, but he doesn't go to twiddling his thumbs like before and it instead seemed like something was visibly bothering him, like a fly would have. \n\nHe does seem to appreciate the relatbility appeal instead of judging him for it. He merely nods in agreement, and finds the word after a moment or two desd silence from him since the \"Ummm\"S and grumbles weren't doing him any favors. He wasn't for useless noise, after all. \"You're... Interesting. I didn't think you'd offer to 'start over', because people don't seem to forget and let go even little things sometimes.\" He didn't want to imply that he had assumed pettiness of her because of her status, and that was the better way of saying it. It was still truthful but not hurtful." } ]	389	1,076
477	2024-02-20	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Ves", "message": "So far the exploration of Willowdale had been surprisingly pleasant. There was some kind of celebration going on and Björn seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself. Ves had been content to watch her friend and lover dance among the townsfolk. She had clapped along to the music, but she had never danced before and was too timid to try. So many people made her nervous, but nobody seemed particularly bothered by them. Yet she couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched. It made her eyes dart and her ears twitch, but didn't stop her from her plans.\n\nThe next step was finding a tavern. Ves wanted a decent bath and a meal of something other than fish. Kip's ship was well-supplied and she wasn't going hungry anymore, but she still craved other types of food. The sea also kept them relatively clean, but the water was cold and salty. Ves really wanted a nice hot bath with soap. She also wanted to change into clean clothes and wash the ones she currently wore. They did smell a little like fish nowadays.\n\nSpotting a sign with a familiar word, Ves perked up. It read 'Something Tavern.' The Kobold could recognize the word Tavern, Though the word before it was just a jumble of nonsense. \"There!\" She said excitedly, pointing out the building to Björn. \"That says tavern, right?\" Reading was still very new to her and she had been attempting to learn when she could. Kip had supplied a few books on his boat as well and Ves had been practicing with Björn. Though tavern was one of the very first words she had been taught and she hoped she had gotten it right.\n\nTail swishing, Ves headed towards the tavern, still carrying her paper-wrapped clothing in her arms. She had bought a few outfits from the market.\n\nThe extra coin had been a present from Kip as well. Though she was still inclined to be careful with the money they had, Ves felt better knowing they actually had a way to earn more. Björn was now an excellent fisherman and they could surely sell whatever they caught. Between Kip's supplies and skills, she and Björn were doing decently well. Ves was strangely grateful that they had met the troublesome Kobold. Despite what he had done, they wouldn't have gotten this far without him.\n\nThe tavern seemed rowdy: Ves could already hear the shouts and laughter from inside. She wondered if there were any rooms available here. If so, she doubted there would be any noise complaints, considering the ruckus that was already happening. Pulling open the door, Ves had to jump out of the way as a patron stumbled out. He carried a mug in one hand and was shouting over his shoulder at someone, so naturally did not see her. He did, however, notice Björn's towering figure. Hiccuping, he stepped aside, rubbing his watery nose with his forearm. \"Sorry, big fella. Don't let me stop ya. Come on in!\"\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Bjorn Ursa", "message": "The Goliath nodded to Ves with a small grin. \"Yes, that's a tavern alright. The words before it make the name of the tavern. This one seems to be called The Frogleg Tavern... Considering that is a painting of a Frog on the sign, I'll assume Frogleg is a food of sorts, like chicken.\" He gave a small nod to himself as he fathomed and inferred. Björn had gotten very good with his insight, and he made good use of his brain. From the amount of times so far that he had headbutted something - or someone - till his target cracked in some way or another, it was a miracle he could even formulate sentences sometimes. Such is the healing factor of a Barbarian.\n\nAs the Patron snotted his sleeve and apologised to Björn, he gave a small smile and a pat on the back as he passed. \"I'll be sure to do so!\" Björn's first real interaction with a friendly person besides Ves! What a thrill! He felt so proud of himself as he walked into the Tavern, holding the door open for Ves to follow. The tavern was a sight to behold. Filled with rowdy and happy patrons all enjoying a hearty drink in the festivities of the day. A fire was roaring, a minstrel played a flute on stage with children dancing around the front, the burly barkeep was polishing off a tankard for the next customer and laughter could be heard like a lion's roar. This, this was a real Tavern.\n\n\"What you want to drink?\" Björn half yelled down to Ves. If there was something he wished he could change, it was how small she was compared to him! Sometimes conversations felt like they would be seen as a shouting match between the colossal Goliath and the short Kobold. However, he enjoyed her cute stature, even if he did find height to be appealing. He approached the bar and flagged down the barkeep - a fat yet strong looking Dwarf with a cleanly shaved head and enough chestnut brown beard and body hair to make up for it. He hopped up, presumably into a step to reach the bar's height on his own end. \n\n\"Welcome you fine lad and\n\nLass! What'll it be? Got the oven piping hot and the drinks somewhat cold for yer!\" It was somewhat surprising and confusing to Björn that this Dwarf had a Scot accent just like he did.\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Ves", "message": "Ves trailed after Björn into the Frogleg Tavern. Her amber eyes went wide at the sight. People of all kinds were present and the sheer Noise Of the place was almost overwhelming. People shouted across the room at each other while others cursed over a game of cards. The sound of a flute trilled through the crowd and made Ves smile. She was discovering a love for music she had been unaware of before her escape from Dasvaz.\n\n\"Oh, ah... Mead?\" It was really the only drink she knew that tasted good. Ves wasn't exactly experienced in the ways of alcohol. The bartender was friendly and Ves smiled shyly at him when he recognized that she was female. A surprising amount of people could not tell the male and female Kobold apart. It was nice to be recognized as well. She was often overlooked given her small size and demeanor. Perhaps the man knew something about that, given his own short stature.\n\n\"Mead,\" She repeated to the Dwarf, talking louder than usual to be heard over the general hubbub of the room. She wasn't sure she wanted to eat just yet. Her mind was still on a private bath. A drink or two first though, she decided, and a chance to take in the environment. Then she'd worry about a room. \"What's going on in the town?\" She asked the Dwarf curiously. \"Is there some kind of celebration going on?\" \n\n\|\|" } ]	511	1,431
389.285714	2024-02-21	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Bjorn Ursa", "message": "The stout dwarf laughed at her confirmation of Mead and nodded his head, leaning over the countertop to begin pouring out a golden frothy mead. He then gave a complacent shrug and chortled once more. \"Well, I never know these days. This tavern is just very lively. If a festival is on, I don't know it myself. I just pour the pints and whack anyone who don't pay.\" It was then that he gestured behind him with a thumb over the shoulder to point out the decently sized Warhammer on the wall behind him. It was in pristine condition with a small chalkboard next to it with tally marks on it - probably to show how many times it has been used on a stingy patron.\n\nIt was then that the Dwarf slid a half-flagon over to Ves at the bar and began pouring the same for Björn without even asking him. The Goliath didn't mind however, as he wanted it anyway. The barkeep raised a bushy brow and looked at Björn quizzically before asking a question. \"So, what's with the bird's nest? Not seen one of your lot in years but last I did, they didn't have a head of hair or some scruff, like.\" Björn paused, realising that difference between him and his kind. \"Do you mean Goliaths have been here before? And just what hair did they have?\"\n\"None, lad. They were as naked as my own crown! Not a hair on the men of the lot who came through a few years back. Goliaths from Gantrick, if I remember it right. A head of hair like that will get you noticed. I much prefer a clean and shiny bell myself.\" \n\nThe Dwarf let out another belly-rumbling laugh as he patted his own head and slid the flagon across the bar to Björn. Giving a nod of thanks, the Barbarian - deep in thought on the Dwarf's words - passed over a handful of coins to pay for the pair's fill. \"I'll keep that in mind... I never met one of my lot before.\" The Dwarf gave a sympathetic look and nodded softly. \"Well, if you are in need of a shave, there is a barbershop across the road, will clean your scrag up nicely for a good d\n\nEal! Just tell him Daggar sent you. The damn Shifter knows to be nice if he likes his drinks with a discount! The barkeep, supposedly named Dagger winked as he passed over the Goliath's change. Björn was in serious debate. Changing his look would keep any who deem him savage off his back, as well as changing his visage from that of his posters back in Dazvaz." }, { "author": "Ves", "message": "She listened quietly as the Dwarf named Dagger spoke, explaining that he had no idea what was going on. It made her smile a little. She liked this Dwarf, she decided on a whim. He was blunt and filled with laughter and she liked that. There was no trickery behind his words. He seemed like an honest man.\n\nWhen he began to describe how Goliaths normally looked, Ves' ears perked up. She glanced up at Björn to see his reaction and could recognize the depths of his thoughts. Was he considering visiting the barber? She sipped at her mead as she studied her lover. Sometimes she just enjoyed looking at him. It brought her pleasure to do so. How would he look without hair, she mused to herself. Well, it didn't matter. Hair or no hair, she would care for him all the same.\n\nAs Dagger turned away to help another patron, Ves spoke. \"What's on your mind, Björn?\" She asked. She still had to raise her voice to be heard over the noise of the tavern. Her tail twitched behind her as she gazed up at him with curious eyes. She took another drink of her mead, savoring the flavor. It was good here, perhaps better than in Broughton. Everything seemed better than Broughton. Ves liked the atmosphere in Willowdale. It was cheerful and welcoming and there were far fewer menacing stares. And nobody had accused her of carrying diseases. What more could she ask for? \n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Bjorn Ursa", "message": "\"Daggar's words... That's all. He said Goliaths were here, my people... They exist!\" It came to his attention that in none of the books he had read, had he ever heard of Goliaths. Not one fable had them, nor any article in a newspaper showcased their description. Björn was shocked and pleased, a small smile on his mead-soaked lips. \"Also, I can't be the only one who thinks my accent is similar to his. It is nice, aye?\" The brute chuckled softly to himself, liking how Daggar's usage of aye felt on his tongue. It worked remarkably well for him and he came to the conclusion that his accent was one and the same as the Dwarf's. So, raised the question: Where did that accent originate?\n\nBjörn felt his rough beard, thickened and wired by the salty air for so long, it was itchy and scratched at his skin strangely as if his hair was never meant to be there. Ves would be able to tell that he debated his next move, pondering by the telltale rubbing of his chin; before realising he was leaving a light trail of dandruff on the bar and stopped, sheepishly brushing it off to one side. \"Ves.\" The Barbarian turned to her, his weight shifting under the creaky stool as he rested his arm on the ever-so-slightly sticky bar table. \"Would I look good with a shave?\"\n\nThis was a strange sensation; asking someone's opinion on how he looked. The Goliath was not used to it, yet he was so enthused by the prospect of his people and their appearances. He imagined men the size of mountains and women with muscles of steel and granite - stone-faced warriors and creatures of Lunam's design that were perhaps more awesome and earth-shatteringly strong than he. He longed for a connection to his people, as mysterious and rare as they may be.\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Ves", "message": "Aye? Ves couldn't help but grin a little. Daggar's accent had sounded a lot like Björn's. They were almost identical. Björn's pitch was deeper, but beyond that they seemed the same. It was certainly an interesting accent. Where did it come from? Did Björn always have it or had he picked it up in the Pits? She doubted it. His voice had been rough from lack of use when she first met him. It was far more likely that he carried the accent with him from childhood.\n\nShe smiled at his enthusiasm regarding his people. \"Would you like to travel to Gantrick? To meet your people? We can. Nothing is stopping us. Well, except maybe knowing where Gantrick is. Though surely it's on the map somewhere. Now that we know we're in Willowdale, perhaps that'll make it easier to orient ourselves.\"\n\nHis question came as a surprise to her. Her opinion on the subject didn't matter, after all. It was his body. He could do with it whatever he pleased. Still, she tried to imagine him without a beard. The Kobold tilted her head to the side as she considered. \"I think you look good no matter what.\" It was perhaps a lame answer, but a true one. Ves honestly felt attracted to him and shaving wouldn't change that. \"Do you want a shave? We could go across the way and see the barber. And if you don't like it, well, it'll always grow back.\"\n\nShe had no idea what it was even like to have hair. She had scales and horns. She knew what it felt like to be kissed by Björn however. Would it feel different if he shaved? It would have to. Maybe it would be less scratchy. Well. She would just have to wait and see what Björn chose to do. Then she could experiment all she liked. The thought of kissing him made her scales redden slightly.\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Bjorn Ursa", "message": "Björn paused at her words, his eyes widening. He didn't even have time to think. \"Yes.\" He said it in a heartbeat, without thought or time to consider the ramifications. Björn would want nothing more than to see someone, anyone of his kind. Maybe he can learn about his people, connect to his ancestral roots and maybe it helps him develop his ability to rage and transmute things. \"If I could find some of my kind... I would consider it a worthy goal. Alas, Daggar said the Goliaths hailed from North... And north is a good distance away. It would take ages to work our way across the land. Besides, nothing of benefit comes to you with following me all the way there.\"\n\nHe took another sip of his drink, rubbing his hand over his braided hair as a small selection of strands fell out and landed in his hand. It was clear he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Deciding to just journey across the land with no real confirmation of a result weighed heavy on his heart, heavy like the force needed to push the boat out to sea. Heavy... His mind became clouded from overthinking, perhaps it is for the better he changed subjects. It was then Ves brought up this 'Barber'.\n\n\"Yes, I can always grow it back... I do want to shave. Perhaps it will bring me closer to my people if I look like them!\" The Goliath perked up at this conclusion, before whispering to Ves. \"And it would help Ursa Majora disappear if the Orcs send hunters.\" The Goliath felt very clever and smiled to himself. They would only be able to identify him by his scars and slave mark; the latter being easy to cover with the right clothing. Björn felt a renewed resolve in this small step toward freedom.\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Ves", "message": "\"Wait, slow down,\" Ves said, setting her mug of mead down on the counter. \"I don't care that there's no benefit for me in Gantrick. I don't think there's any benefit for me anywhere. I'm nomadic, Björn. I left my birthplace behind and have no true home. And what's to say Gantrick isn't my home and I just haven't discovered it yet? No, Björn, I think we should head North. We can travel by land this time. It'll take longer, but it'll be safer than risking Broughton again.\" \n\nShe smiled with relief as he brightened. Was a shave all he needed to cheer up? It was then he whispered his clever plan into her ear. Ves grinned wide and nodded her head. It was a good idea and surely would help disguise him better. \"To the barber then!\" She said cheerily, before tossing back the rest of her drink. It seemed very unlike Ves, but the Kobold was in a good mood.\n\nVes felt good about having a destination. Yes, it was far away, but perhaps they would get there sooner than expected. And if finding his people meant that much to Björn, then Ves was willing to see him get there. She placed her now-empty mug on the counter and slipped off her chair, filled with liquid courage. Taking Björn's hand, she began to lead the way back outside and across the street, not caring what the people of Willowdale might think. \n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "papajeir", "message": "Björn seemed pleased by her response and a small shade of blush flashed briefly across his face as he emptied his flagon with ease. And so it was set in stone. The duo's goal was to reach Gantrick and track down his kind. They had to be around the northern regions somewhere. Who knew what they'd get into while on the way. It would be a grand adventure, the Barbarian knew that much.\n\nThe first step on this road, was to kill off any trace of the Slave that broke free from Dazvaz. To do that, his hair had to go. A fresh rocky head to slip away into this new adventure. The Goliath worried for a moment how he would look with no hair, but shook the thought aside. Before long, Ves had dragged him by the hand off his stool. He waved to the barkeep as he left, who gave but a knowing nod as he polished his flagon.\n\n*Why? Why did he allow Ves to drag him across the tavern to the exit? He could have walked himself, and the patrons maybe wouldn't have hollered and jeered as the man mountain was dragged to the door by a determined Kobold, an anthill in comparison. But he liked giving her these illusions of strength, it gave her a good bit of a laugh and for that... He enjoyed the experience as they fled the cosy and warm tavern out into the \n\n\|\|" } ]	387	2,725
445.2	2024-02-26	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Bjorn Ursa", "message": "When they last were in the tavern, it was rowdy as all hell. Now, as they entered the Tavern's interior, it was much more relaxed. People were still talking loudly but not yelling, and the bard on stage played a merry jaunt upon his flute. Daggar looked up from his station and smiled when he saw Björn. \"Ach, lad! You look like a true Goliath now! And Ves, why you look bonnie.\" He spoke strangely, but his intentions were pure as quicksilver. He gestured for them to sit at one of the empty tables while he finished serving another customer.\n\nBjörn waved as he entered, laughing at the compliment as he placed his hand on Ves' shoulder for a moment. Björn felt and seemed calm, the enchantment still lingering slightly. It was his first time having a spell cast on him, after all. He pulled out a chair for Ves first. \"My Lady...\" He teased, pulling the chair out in a mockery of a Gentleman's fashion and etiquette. He crudely plonked himself down at the table as Varnis took off his coat and hung it - with his cane - on the back of his chair.\n\nUp close and in the light, Varnis could be seen more clearly than before. His eyes were a dulled orange tone, his hair flowed and hung nicely around his ears, cut to never go further than his lobes. His getup was a short-sleeved white button shirt and suit pants. He seemed out of place with the duo in his company. The strangest thing about him was the strange sheen two points on his head had, covered by his hair pretty well. The other thing were his... Well, they had to be tattoos. They covered his hands, arms and seemed to go up his sleeves... How far did they go?\n\n\"Now, while we wait for menus, I'll make myself clear to you, Ves, like I have your rather brutishly sized lover.\" It didn't sound like the tone of an insult... But... \"You see, Björn has willingly divulged his past, and your involvement in it. I know all about Dazvaz from his point of view - do not be alarmed. I will explain if you permit me so.\n\n \|\| <\n\n349895822059503637\|\|" }, { "author": "Ves", "message": "Seeing Daggar again actually did make Ves smile and wave. She liked the cheerful Dwarf and his blunt mannerisms. They were ushered to a table and Björn even pulled out a seat for her! \"Thank you,\" She whispered. Ves' entire face was turning red now as she climbed into the slightly-too-big chair. Her feet didn't quite touch the floor and dangled in the air. Her tail curled around her side as she smoothed her dress out.\n\nShe took the moment to study Varnis in the improved lighting. It didn't matter. She didn't like what she saw. He was handsome, but odd in ways that made her scales bristle. What about him made her distrust him? Ves wasn't entirely sure, but her instincts were warning her to be wary.\n\nAnd for good reason, it seemed. With every word Varnis spoke, her amber eyes grew a little bit wider. She stared at him in silence, then turned towards Björn with panic in her gaze. She opened her mouth, then closed it again before the words could be uttered. Instead she shook her head as though to clear away her thoughts. Varnis knew too much. He had surely cast some devious spell on Björn. Why else would the Goliath, her trusted friend and lover, give away everything to a total stranger? It just didn't make sense.\n\nStop, She commanded herself. She was letting her intrusive thoughts win. She knew from experience that bonds could form quickly. She and Björn were evidence of that. Perhaps the same could be said of this odd man. She would give him the chance to explain everything. Still silent, she nodded for him to continue. \n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Bjorn Ursa", "message": "\"Thank you... Now, I will continue. I noticed you both in town today while looking for book supplies and research material. It was then I saw a rip in Björn's tunic when he was dancing with that child. I knew I had recognised the symbol - a slave tattoo from the Sablemoon clan. Turns out, that is where Björn came from. I explained that I came from a troubled background, and so I sympathise with him.\" He spoke matter-of-factly about it all, sparing the blabber for the necessary details. He absently moved his hair to one side as he itched the base of something black on his head before continuing, not hearing any objections.\n\n\"I ran into Mr Björn as I was slipping in for a bath and a bite to eat. I recognised his tattoo and struck up a conversation - after I folded his clothes for him... He didn't know how to and he asked me.\" Björn shrugged nervously, admitting his side of the story. \"I liked how his clothes looked square and smooth.\"\n\"Anywho, we spoke in the Bathhouse and while the whole ordeal ruined my appetite, I felt it best to make a friend of him, especially after he told me about you - a Kobold with a rare trait. I had to see for myself. Not every day you meet someone as unique as you both after all. I told him that if he had a meal with me, granted you don't kill me here - I will direct you to Gantrick. I am not heading there myself, but I know of its direction. Plus... I am starving for some good eating.\"\n\n\"It is all true, Ves. He wanted to meet us both and 'pick our brains'...Which apparently means learn from us.\" Just as he finished telling her that, Daggar walked over with a tray holding two flagons of mead.\n\"Two meads, fresh n foamy! Sorry posh lad I haven't met ya so I don't know yer usual.\"\n\"Oh, just anything from grapes will do me.\"\n\"Right on, posh boy. Now, Björn, what about some grub?\"\nBjörn paused before thinking... \"Hunter's Chicken... Please.\"\n\"Right...\" He began to scribble on a notepad. \"And you, posh one?\"\n\n\"Oh, no I don't want anything to eat. I'll just foot the bill.\"\n\"Swore I heard you say you were starvin' but I don't get paid to ask twice. What about you Ves?\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Ves", "message": "With her permission, Varnis began talking. And by the gods, could he talk! He went on and on and on... He made leaps of logic and assumptions of varying degrees. He just Happened To run into Björn after spotting him on the street and Instantly Knowing where he was from. Yes, it sounded very suspicious to Ves. Still, she did not interrupt and instead let the man babble on. He certainly had a high opinion of himself, she noted. But nothing he was saying made her believe Björn Wasn't Under a spell. \n\nThen Daggar came along with the mead and Ves took her mug without glancing up. Her eyes were still on Varnis and they were cold now. When asked what she wanted to eat, Ves muttered \"The same as Björn, please,\" Without so much of a glance at the Dwarf. She waited quietly until Daggar disappeared again. Only once he was gone did she finally speak.\n\n\"Strange. You Did Say, multiple times, that you were hungry. And now you refuse food.\" Her expression hardened and she clenched her jaw. Her mind immediately leaped to worst case scenarios. What if he was some horrible monster? A vampire, perhaps, ready to pounce and feed on Them! No... Vampires couldn't walk in the sunlight, right? And there were still beams of light filtering through the city at sunset. But had she seen any of them fall across Varnis on the way to the Frogleg? And what did she know about vampires anyway?\n\nShe wanted someone to blame. She was angry and scared and hurt. How Much Had Björn shared with this man? He knew they were lovers, he knew she had a rare trait - though he did not say what it was. He knew their travels from Dasvaz. She had to assume Björn had told him Everything.\n\nEnough of this. Ves set her mead down quietly and leaned forward. She spoke softly, so he would have to lean forward as well to hear her. \"I don't think I trust you, Varnis Baragon, esquire. I think you're hiding something. I think you have Björn under some kind of spell, be it magic or your own natural charisma. I believe my beloved wants to trust in people, and you seemed trustworthy. But something's off about you and I don't like it.\"\n\nThere was no threat following these words. What could she do anyway? She was only one tiny Kobold and apparently unarmed. She had her claws at least and she could bite. If only looks could kill then the problem would have already been dealt with. \n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Bjorn Ursa", "message": "\"Oh uh... Right, two hunter's chickens...\" The way Ves was acting made Daggar uncomfortable, his eyes darted between her and Varnis before leaving the space. Varnis, however... The hope in his eyes died out, leaving a cold stare that could have killed someone. \"I knew it'd come to this... Fuck it always does doesn't it.\" Varnis slowly stood up and placed his index finger into the middle of the table. \"With these words, I compel the truth from all parties.\" The finger pulsed with gold energy, as did the table, chairs and all three of them. No one seemed to notice it...\n\n\"Okay... The man sat back down at the table, pulling one leg over the other with his hands. \"All three of us now exist within a zone of truth. Try to lie to me and you'll feel the resistance to blatantly tell one. I am going to speak and tell you the truth, then you two can.\" It was then that Varnis slipped all his rings off from his hands and laid his necklace - that was under his shirt - on the table, to show he had no enchantments. \"My name is Varnis Baragon, esquire. Where I come from doesn't matter as I do not like to think of my home life. I am an Incubus. I feed from admiration primarily, as well as lust but... I do not like using that. I have taken off all my rings to show I am no manner of undead, nor does the sun on my face bother me one bit. Under my head of hair are two black horns you have undoubtedly seen by now. I wish to be a writer and a mage of great renown, so I can pursue my passions and have a safe supply of energy that harms no one... Now Björn, you try.\"\n\n\"Uhh... My name is Björn Ursa but I know it isn't my real name. I am an escaped slave from the Sablemoon Clan who got my unborn child and his mother killed from my own stupidity. I am travelling with Ves who means a lot to me and I like when she strokes my face. I asked Varnis to calm me with a spell so I wouldn't worry about where you had gone because I was scared to be alone. I didn't change my und\n\nErwear and it kinda itches... The fuck?\"\n\"Now, Ves. If that doesn't tell you I am telling the truth, I don't know what will. This spell lasts for 10 minutes to the second... So ask away if you need more from me.\"\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Ves", "message": "Her eyes burned with a surprising intensity and Ves' lip curled. She stood up when Varnis did - it was fight or flight now - but it was too late. He cast his spell and Ves flinched away from the golden energy. She clenched her hands into small fists and bit down hard on the inside of her cheek. Rage filled her as she remained standing, listening to his confession as her blood boiled. \n\nPoor Björn! He was under the spell, same as she, and his awkward confession served as proof of its success. But only once both men were both did she speak. \n\n\"My name is simply Ves and you think that casting a spell on me and my lover is the best way to earn trust?!\" She spat. Her tail lashed behind her in her anger. \"I am simply Ves and if I had the strength or magical ability, I'd challenge you. But I am simply Ves and I have nothing of the sort.\" Her long ears were folded back against her skull as she babbled under the truth spell. Tears pricked at her eyes, threatening to spill, frustration and anger pushing her to the edge. \n\nVes struggled against the spell. She tried turning it around on him. Maybe if she kept the focus on him, her own secrets wouldn't come bubbling to the surface. \"Do you mean to harm us? Are you going to Feed Off of us? I won't let you hurt Björn. I'll kill you, somehow, if you try.\" Her eyes darted around briefly. There was a knife at a nearby table. If she was fast enough she could reach it...\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Bjorn Ursa", "message": "He listened to her as he raised his brows and looked at Ves. Björn reached out a hand and placed it on hers. \"Ves... Breathe, look at me - hey, look at me. You do not need to defend me. Breathe...\"\n\"I understand your worry. No I do not wish to feed on you, or Björn. I wanted to meet someone with your traits... Here.\" Varnis produced a book from his bag. It was unfished and filled with loose pages. The front read - The Souls of Lucidien, an interview with mortality by Varnis Baragon. Should Ves choose to look through it, she would find messy research notes on bestiaries, race catalogues and measurements, his interviews with Elves and Dwarves - even Daggar's name is in the book!\n\n\"That is my life's work.\" He said, slipping his rings back on and tying his necklace back around his neck. \"...I was similar to Björn, once. However, my prison parameters were... Domestic in nature. I don't like sharing it but if that is what it takes to show I mean no harm I don't know what will, okay? I'm a fucking good guy and I am sick of people like you who look down on me. You think I asked to be born to take lust?! Think I get off on it, huh Ves?! His fist hit the table, sending a shooting pain through his arm. He winced and shook his head, wiping a tear from his eye.\n\n\"Forgive my outburst for it was unseemly. I like to keep an air of professionalism. You have every right to judge me, but know I didn't judge either of you.\" Björn looked at them both in their fits of aggression, somehow the only calm person at the table. He took a swig of his mead, before saying. \"Being bald makes me want a sheep on my head. I felt it was relevant to share.\"\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Ves", "message": "She turned her eyes towards Björn, the rage fading a little as she met his gaze. She took a deep breath and shook her head. \"I would die for you, Björn,\" She tried to explain, more truth bubbling forth. The scarlet of her scales was beginning to spread and she ducked her head to avoid looking at him. She knew he didn't want to hear such a thing. She thought it would upset him.\n\nHer eyes shifted to the book Varnis held. It meant nothing to her - she couldn't make sense of the letters and notes, only the sketches. \"I'm illiterate,\" She began to explain, cringing as yet another truth came out. But when Varnis raised his voice and slammed his fist onto the table, Ves bristled once again. \"I don't Know What to think! I don't even know you, Varnis! You could be capable of the worst kinds of evil and I wouldn't know!\"\n\n\"I am a Kobold. I am small and weak and Clever. I am wanted for freeing slaves in Dasvaz, for helping people like Björn. I would be a fool to trust anyone so easily. And look. My suspicions were right. You aren't what you seem to be! Now I... I just don't know whether or not I can trust you.\" Her shoulders slumped and slowly she sat back down in her chair. Her ears drooped and she sighed.\n\n\"I'm sorry. I shouldn't be so quick to judge. I'm just defensive of what I have now.\" Her eyes lifted and moved to Björn. \"I don't want to lose him.\"\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Bjorn Ursa", "message": "As both parties sat in silence... Björn spoke up, calm as calm couod be. \"Ves. You and I know what it is like to be used. So does he. He hid his own race from us out of fear of persecution... I've met one of his kind before. A Succubi. She was a slave like me. They made her hair short to expose her horns for what they were, filed one down when she rebelled. That is why I trust him. I have seen that exact look in another person, who was just as human as he.\"\n\n\"As for you, Varnis. You expected any differently from a Kobold and a Goliath? I'm not smart but it seems dumb to do so. Your book is true, I can read it and see that much. It's too much work for a facade. However, you should have expected a reaction like this.\" He looked at them both for but a moment. \"I plan to go to Gantrick. I plan even if I go alone or if Ves comes with me. I plan to meet my people and learn their ways... And learn my abilities in true Goliath fashion.\"\n\n\"Ves, you won't lose me. You should, however be ashamed of yourself for your prejudice. It was hypocritical of you and while justified, was not the shining example of the beautiful and caring woman I described in the Bathhouse. Varnis, you should have thought your plan through. It was a folly - a gamble to try and use this way to show honesty. Your efforts are commendable, but you should have been outright from the start. I understand why not...\" He paused for a moment, letting the two sit in silence and contemplate his words. He wasn't even sure what he said himself... It was then that Daggar brought over two steaming plates and a bottle of wine with a glass. \"Ooh, look! Food!\"\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Ves", "message": "She was filled with shame and disappointment in herself. Ves' head dropped and she nodded her understanding and agreement. Björn's words rang true. How could she have been so foolish? So blinded by mistrust and suspicion? This wasn't like her. She wasn't filled with such darkness. What was Wrong With her? \n\nThere was something else bothering her. Björn planned to go to Gantrick - with or Without Her. He would leave her behind? She couldn't imagine going anywhere without him. Did he not feel the same? Was he so willing to abandon her? Her heart twisted painfully in her chest. No. She was reading too much into it. Björn wouldn't abandon her. He had just said as much and they were under the truth spell.\n\n\"I'm sorry, Varnis,\" She said sincerely, sorrowfully. Then she looked up with a soft frown. \"I need some air and a moment to think. Please, excuse me.\" She stood quietly, stepping around Daggar with a murmured apology, and made her way to the tavern's entrance. Stepping out into the quiet night, Ves turned and moved into a nearby alley and out of sight.\n\nThe darkness was welcoming. Ves leaned back against the stone wall and let herself slowly slide into a sitting position. She forgot about her pretty new dress and now sat with her knees to her chest in the dirt. Her heart felt heavy and she felt incredibly lonely. She had never been chastised before, had never disappointed anyone. She had never been close enough to someone To Disappoint them. Even her parents and siblings had been distant. There was no familial warmth or love among them. So it was an entirely new feeling and one she did not like.\n\nWrapping her arms around her legs, Ves settled her chin on her knees. She lifted her eyes towards the sky, studying the stars in contemplative silence. \n\n\|\|" } ]	418	4,452
461	2024-02-27	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Bjorn Ursa", "message": "A couple minutes passed by, and the light from the tavern's door opened and closed. The sound of sharp heels clicked against the stones as Varnis turned a corner, looking at her with an expression of concern. \"Mind if I sit?\" He didn't wait for a response and squatted down against the opposite wall. He ruffled his hair as it fell out of its perfect hold, his horns coming out from their cover. They were long and sharp, seemingly curved back slightly. Varnis sighed.\n\n\"I told Björn not to worry, that I would make sure you're okay. I caused this mess after all, I should take responsibility.\" Varnis looked at her, he fidgeted with his gloves. \"You know why I wear gloves, Ves? It's a twofold answer. You see, Incubi and Succubi are born with markings on their skin; runes if you will. It is easy to hide them if you dress accordingly, but the hands...\" He slipped off a black glove from his hand, showcasing his runes. They were black, like his horns and very intricate. \"They're hard to hide from sight. Especially in the summer months. No matter what you try to do, they're stuck for life. The second half of my answer is the manner of keeping... Friends.\"\n\n\"Long ago, I tried making friends. Not a means to an end or a source of satiation, but true friends. Companions... However, every hand on a shoulder, every fist bump, every handshake... Every action of mine was met with a cautious, alarmed gaze. As if even though I liked my friends... They worried I just saw them as a meal.\" As he spoke, he stared at his outstretched hand before chuckling and lowering it. \"In case you wondered so, I am not under a truth spell any longer. I told that tale because I wanted to... Just as I want to tell you this: May I tell you, truthfully and openly, what Björn described you as?\"\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Ves", "message": "Ves glanced up at the sound of footsteps and nodded at Varnis as he approached. She did not argue with him as he sat down on the ground with her. The little Kobold listened quietly as Varnis explained why he wore his gloves. She studied his hands and the intricate designs. He had difficulty making friends. No one fully trusted him. No wonder he had been so hurt. It only made her feel worse and she lowered her eyes. \n\n\"For what it's worth, I Am Sorry. I shouldn't have been so quick to judge. It wasn't so much because you're an Incubus. I was suspicious of you even before I found out. It was because you had obviously charmed Björn somehow. Maybe I was jealous. I don't know...\" \n\nShe considered for a moment, her tail flicking. \"I have so much to lose now, when before I had nothing. I have Björn and he means the world to me. I think it makes me defensive and suspicious. And after Kip... Well, I think it's difficult for me to trust now.\" \n\nHer ears lowered in dismay. \"I don't think I want to hear what Björn said about me. It's obviously not true. I'm changing so much lately and I'm not sure I like what I'm becoming.\" She looked down at the ground between her feet. Maybe it would be better if Björn went to Gantrick without her. Maybe it would be better to cut ties now. The very thought twisted her heart painfully, but she needed to consider what was best for Björn.\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Bjorn Ursa", "message": "\"And I am sorry too. I forget how a stranger can seem hostile at first. I promise you, I did no such spell on your boyfriend. The only spell I cast was that of calming his rage - which he asked for. It is not a beginner's spell, or I would have offered to teach you. However... I can teach you some spells if you wish - hand movements and paired phrases to assist you and maybe make you feel less of a burden to him. But first, I feel you need to hear... No... Experience this. Varnis held his index finger and thumb against his temple and grunted slightly as he pinched at an unseen force. A small sliver of white light came from his head - a spell of some kind. He held the strand in his hand as it whispered and echoed. With a flick of his wrist, he blew it to Ves' face... And her vision went white, the sounds of the tavern began to fade away to a hissing sound.\n\nThat hissing sound became the sound of running water and steam, and Ves found herself viewing a conversation between Varnis and Björn. Through her ears, she heard the Goliath speak, picking up half a conversation. \"...And that is why I like her. She is just so pure, so kind. She is like an angel of light. She always says her mind, which I find attractive as fuck - like - imagine someone being so brave to say what they feel. She is stronger than me.\" Varnis' voice, unimportant to the memory, was muffled in his response. \"...She wants to come to Gantrick to help me find my kind, regardless of her own passions or dreams. I never even ask what she wants to do, guess I am a pretty bad boyfriend at times... Say, boyfriend is a strange word. I prefer partners because we are. Partners in life and adventure. She's the only Ves; My Ves. I'd die for that short little lady...\"\n\nThe vision began to fade like mist, the colours and shapes of the scene fading out. Before she knew it, Varnis was holding a flask of water towards her. \"Here, you may feel a dry sensation in your mouth. I showed you my memory - from when I\n\nMet him. That is how much he cares, that he would tell a total stranger about you. I can tell you're still that person dear, just stuck in her own head. Come back to the table with me, and see your 'partner'. I'll give you both some alone time for a moment. But, my offer stands. I can teach you how to help him with magic if you so wish.\"\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Ves", "message": "\"You can teach me magic?\" She asked, blinking in surprise. She had no talent for such things, so how was that possible? Though it would be nice to be able to help Björn. Before she could ask more, however, the Incubus began doing Something Else.\n\nVes watched as Varnis began to cast another spell. She was fascinated with magic, although it made her nervous as well. It was a fear of the unknown, she knew this. She flinched away instinctively as he blew the magic into her face, not understanding what he was doing. Her vision went white and she felt herself begin to panic.\n\nBe strong. Be brave. Björn's voice drew her out of her panic and she realized quickly that she was observing some kind of memory. Björn was talking, talking about Her With such admiration and love in his tone. Her eyes filled with tears and she began to cry as the memory faded from view and Varnis came back into focus. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she buried her face in her hands. She was deeply ashamed of herself, of her actions and her thoughts. Her heart was heavy and she felt defeated and lost. She was undeserving of such devotion.\n\nSniffling pitifully, she wiped at her eyes and looked up. Taking the flask from Varnis, she drank quietly before handing it back. There was a lump in her throat that wouldn't go away and she seemed to be having a hard time talking. Every time she opened her mouth, more tears would stream from her eyes and she would choke. So for the moment Ves remained silent, hugging her knees to her chest and crying softly.\n\nAfter some time her tears finally stopped flowing and she looked up. Taking a shaky breath, the Kobold nodded. \"Let's... Go back inside,\" She murmured softly. At least she had found her voice again. Slowly she climbed to her feet, brushing her dress off. She probably looked awful, with her tear streaked face and reddened eyes - it was called Ugly crying For a reason. However she did feel a little better now - lighter somehow. And although she was embarrassed to have lost her composure in front of Varnis, she couldn't help but respond to his offer. \"I'd like to learn any magic you'd be willing to teach. But right now I just want to see Björn.\"\n\n\|\|" } ]	471.5	1,844
451.166667	2024-02-28	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Bjorn Ursa", "message": "Varnis waited for Ves to compose herself. He could practically feel the waves of emotion from her. It was comforting, slightly appetising. He shook the thought from his mind. It may have been a while since he had some form of satiation, but he was cleaning up a mess he had made. He took the flask back and tucked it away. \"Very well, I am sure your food will get cold if we do not return... Ah, hold still.\" Varnis then bobbed down, somehow keeping his knees away from the dirty ground. He pulled out a handkerchief and cleaned the bottom of her dress where dirt had gotten onto it. He felt silly, doing this for a stranger; however, his OCD was very apparent.\n\nAs he walked her back to the tavern, he spoke once more. \"I will teach you what basics I can, a few spells that should assist in dealing with Björn and a few to deal with unwanted pests. However, the magic of the mind is only as strong as your will. To calm a raging bull, you must demonstrate control. The same goes for a rage-filled man or any foe. Heed those words Ves and I can make a mage of you yet.\"\n\nAs they walked back in, Björn was licking his plate clean, getting sauce all over his lips and face. It seemed without company, the Goliath had succumbed to his base instincts and was sloppily munching away, licking his fingers and utensils with avarice. He looked up, noticing their return and his face went blank mid-licking of his plate as he froze. As they sat down, he slowly put his tongue away. \"What? Don't look at me like that guys, Daggar's food is good. Like Really Good.\"\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Ves", "message": "Ves held still as Varnis cleaned the hem of her dress. \"Thank you,\" She said quietly, her tail giving a flick. She felt dirty and tired, whereas before she was feeling clean and refreshed. It was sad how such an emotional breakdown could cause such a shift. She walked alongside the taller Incubus, mulling over his words. She needed to get control of herself. No more breakdowns. She wanted to be what Björn needed. She wanted to be his rock in the storm.\n\nShe couldn't help but smile at the sight of Björn licking his plate clean. That was very much like him. His table manners were severely lacking, but Ves didn't care. She liked him all the same. Wordlessly she crossed over to him and climbed into his lap. Grinning a little, now eye-to-eye, she gave the Goliath a big hug. She squeezed him as tightly as possible, fighting back tears that threatened to reappear.\n\n\"I'm sorry for my behavior, Björn. I think I'm okay now,\" She said as she pulled out of the embrace. Instead of climbing down from his lap, she stayed sitting daintily. She didn't care how silly she looked; she wanted to be close to the man she adored. Their size difference was more obvious than ever. Eyeing her own plate of food, Ves stomach reminded her of her own hunger. She leaned across the table to pull the plate towards her, then began to eat. She used a fork and knife, as was proper of a lady, but savored each bite. \"Mmm! You're right, Björn. The food is really good!\" \n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Bjorn Ursa", "message": "Björn smiled as she hugged him. He wrapped his arms around her for a moment, keeping his sticky and sauce-covered fingers away from her dress. He half expected her to disappear back to her seat and when she didn't he accepted his fate and wiped his fingers clean, mouthing a silent 'Thank you' to the Incubus, who simply nodded in return. Varnis slowly slipped off his gloves and stood up. \"Excuse me you two, I need to... I'll be back.\" Varnis then sauntered over to one of the men at the bar as his hands flickered with magic. It was true that Varnis despised what he needed to do, but it was necessary. Besides, he promised to give them alone time. Varnis put on a brave face as he began to strike up a conversation with another man, placing his hand on the unsuspecting patron's arm.\n\n\"I think you're just fine, lass. However, I am not a chair cushion you know!\" The Goliath smiled and laughed a little bit as he idly sipped his drink, wiping his bare arm over his mouth to clean the froth. \"So... Varnis, huh? He is certainly a character. But I think he is just another outcast, just like us.\" Björn's opinion was pretty accurate and intelligent, given his blunt nature. He leaned back in his chair and let out a sigh. \"You have any idea about what to do next? I found out while you were gone that Willowdale is in the Kingdom of Alynthi and, well... We are going to need to think of ways to earn coin. Learn a trade or start taking bounties and odd jobs. I can't exactly say I am a fisherman on the mainland now, can I?\"\n\nBjörn's eyes lifted as he watched Varnis lead a possibly enchanted man away and out of the Tavern. Varnis had a smile on his face as he spoke to the man but inside his eyes, there was a depressive lack of light. He didn't seem to be as much himself with... Well... Whatever he was doing. The Goliath was not sure, after all, he barely knew how Incubi fed. \"Hope Varnis doesn't get himself hurt. He left his coat here so he is intent on returning, at least... But a\n\nLso, I hope you don't mind that I ordered myself another drink.\"\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Ves", "message": "Ves nodded politely to Varnis as the Incubus stepped away. Then she turned her focus back to Björn. \"You're more comfortable than the chair though,\" She pouted. She took another bite of chicken, chewing thoughtfully. \"I think you're right. Now that I've gotten to know him a bit better, Varnis seems... Sad. He's a misfit who has trouble forming meaningful relationships, just because of his race. I wonder if that's a common thing among Incubi. It must be hard for him.\"\n\nThe Kobold hummed as she considered Björn's question. What Could They do? They had just learned how to fish and now they would have to abandon it. What was she even good at? She was small and stealthy, but had no skills in any sort of trade. Would someone be willing to teach her? \"I don't know,\" She said honestly. \"Varnis did offer to show me a little magic though. Maybe I can figure something out from there. But I don't know if we should take on bounties. We might run into someone looking for us.\"\n\nHer eyes shifted to Varnis as the man slipped out of the tavern. She looked at the coat he had left behind. \"He'll likely be fine. He knows what he's doing. But if he doesn't show back up soon, we can go look for him. I just don't know how long his...\" She searched for the right word and failed to find one. \"...How long it should take.\" She grabbed her own mead and took a long drink, sighing happily. \"I might have another one also. It's good.\"\n\nShe wouldn't mind letting loose a little either. After her emotional breakdown she needed some relaxation. Alcohol was a good release and the Frogleg Tavern was the perfect place, especially with Björn and Varnis nearby. And Daggar wouldn't let anything really bad happen either. \"Are we going to stay here tonight, or return to the ship?\" She asked Björn. Not that walking would be an issue. If she couldn't stand straight, she was easily carried. Not that she Intended On getting so drunk, but who could know for certain? \n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Bjorn Ursa", "message": "Björn seemed to zone out for a moment as she discussed people looking for him... Ashgarn's face flashed in front of him as he winced. His attention came back to Ves as he picked her up and sat her down on the chair while he stood. \"I'm sure we can figure it out. I mean, I definitely want to get a new axe before we do anything... Ooh or a Warhammer. I remember breaking a Trunk-man's limbs before crushing his skull with his own maul once... Good times.\" He spoke that last line with venom in his voice, he hated that past life... Why was his old master on his mind though? He recalled how he changed his mind last minute about selling Björn only to send him to the Pits...\n\nThe Goliath walked up to the bar and tapped his hand on it as he waited for Daggar to come round. \"Aye lad? What'll it be, more of the same?\" He nodded his head. \"Two Meads, make her a half though. Don't want her getting jelly legs.\"\n\"Right on lad, one and a half coming up. Oh, also. I meant to mention if yer lookin' for a bit of extra coin while you're here, I could always need help running the bar and waiterin' around here. If yer like, I could put ya both to work in the morn. Even throw in a free room for yas both so you can start early!\n\nBjörn grabbed his drinks and payed for them, giving a kind smile to Daggar. \"I will ask the Boss about it. I am sure she will want to know. Cheers Daggar... Here.\" Björn slid some coins across the table as extra. \"Pour yourself on, on me.\"\n\"Gods bless ye Ursa!\" Daggar said as he gave a bashful smile. The Goliath turned away and came back to the tables, placing the drinks down after he sipped a bit off the top of Ves' out of pure cheek.\n\"So, Daggar says if we want work and board, we can work for him for a bit. Free room comes with the job. It would be running the bar, waitering... Watever that is and he mentioned he needed help in his kitchen too. What's your thoughts?\" Björn sat down in her old seat, sipping his Mead. Still no Varnis...\n\n\|\| <\n\n49895822059503637\|\|" }, { "author": "Ves", "message": "The Kobold frowned very lightly when Björn brought up his past. It troubled her knowing what he had gone through. She caught the bitterness in his tone and nodded slightly. \"We can certainly get you a new weapon.\" He seemed distracted and Ves wondered what was on his mind. She watched as he returned to the bar to order more drinks. Meanwhile she focused on finishing the meal in front of her and drinking the rest of her mead.\n\nShe smiled when Björn returned, then tilted her head to one side at his words. \"I mean... That's a generous offer. But do we intend to stay in Willowdale so long? I figured you'd be wanting to head north right away. And we have enough coin to see us a good distance from here. But I don't mind sticking around longer if that's what you think is best.\"\n\nShe considered herself as a barmaid. It was a little intimidating. The Frogleg Tavern was large and busy. There was little room for error while running drinks or taking orders. Ves didn't really think herself capable of such a high-pressure position. Maybe she would fare better in the kitchen. She could cook well enough, though it would probably be equally busy behind the scenes. Ves seemed uncertain. Perhaps tavern work wasn't meant for her... But it would be silly to give up the opportunity to make some extra money. \n\n\"I think that if we're staying in Willowdale for a while, then perhaps we should learn to hunt and forage. I think that there's a lot of wilderness between here and Gantrick. I don't want to survive on travel rations the entire trip. So maybe we could find someone to make me a bow and I could learn to shoot. And if we find a hunter, they could teach me how to track and what sort of wild plants are edible.\" Now That Sounded better than being a simple barmaid. Ves liked the idea of being a survivalist.\n\nHer amber eyes moved towards the door. Varnis was still gone. How long did it take him to do whatever he was doing? Should they be worried? \"Should we check on Varnis?\" She asked Björn worriedly. \n\n\|\|" } ]	462.5	2,707
332.25	2024-03-09	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Ves", "message": "Ves glanced towards Björn when he muttered under his breath. What had he said? Father... Her ears twitched as she studied her companion. She could sense the thoughts passing through his mind. What was he thinking about? His family? Ves frowned, her brow furrowing, but remained carefully silent. She didn't want to disturb him.\n\nVes looked over when the door opened and Varnis stepped back inside. It felt dramatic. Despite initial appearances, Ves could see the changes in the man. He seemed... Empty. Her frown only deepened as her ears lowered. Still she lifted a hand in a greeting, an invitation to return.\n\nThe table was quiet as Varnis sat down and pulled on his gloves once again. Ves sipped her drink nervously. She didn't like the silence, but she didn't want to be the one to break it.\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Bjorn Ursa", "message": "Varnis' appearance caused Björn to jump out his skin a little, the vision fading from his mind. He seemed slightly troubled for but a moment... Then he turned to Varnis with a nod. \"Welcome back. Are you well?\"\n\n \"I'm more than well. I'm... I'm alright.\" The Incubus nodded his head with a nervous flitter in his voice for a moment. Then he saw to pulling a twig from his hair and then adjusting his hair back to its original shape and condition. As he worked, shimmers of ebony could be seen as impossibly sharp horns flashed in and out of view until they were hidden once more - as if they were never there.\n\nVarnis then leant back in his chair, folding a leg over the other and smiled, the devilishly refined light coming back to his eyes as he sipped his wine glass. \"What did I miss? Can't have been too much right?\" \n\n\"Daggar offered me and Ves a job if we wished to stay for the time being. However, Ves wants to pursue hunting and tracking. I for one, am lost on which is best.\"\n\nVarnis nodded his head, watching them both through the warped view of his wine glass. Tentatively, he swirled the crimson juice with ease as he pondered for a moment. \"Well, hmm... It would be probably better for Miss Ves over here. Those ears are impossibly sharp from the offset, meaning she'd have a good ear if she learns to isolate flora from fauna. Her small stature makes her less likely to startle a deer too. As for you... Well, to be plain, you're tall as a small house and louder than an ox. It would be particularly difficult for you, but not impossible.\" \n\n\"How so? If I can learn a new skill, I'd be happy to try.\" Björn eagerly leaned forward, raising a bushy brow.\n\n \"Well, my strapping fellow, Goliaths aren't naturally stealthy, but Gantrick is cold and hostile. You could probably snap the tusks of a boar if you wanted to, as well... If you learned a thing or two from Ves, you'd be able to minimise your volume and profile. Take a page from her book, man.\n\n\"I see...\"\n\n \"And I do know this, if you tried to use a normal bow, you'd probably snap it against your nose. No, you need some kind of war bow. Large, slow to draw but powerful. Kinda like you.\" \n\nThe Goliath nodded his head before shifting his weight to look to his ally. \"You've been pretty quiet, Ves. Any thoughts?\"\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Ves", "message": "Ves exhaled as the silence was broken and her heart felt like it skipped a beat. She immediately snapped to attention and focused sharply on Varnis, who adjusted his appearance. Her eyes shifted to give him privacy, returning to Björn, who seemed to have snapped out of it. She smiled a little as the two men began to converse, her eyes moving between them, ears perked with interest. \n\nHer scales began to turn red at Varnis' blunt statements about what she might be capable of. She shifted in her chair, obviously not accustomed to receiving such compliments. Perhaps he hadn't meant it to be taken that way, but Ves still blushed and squirmed and didn't know how to respond.\n\nShe glanced up from her thoughts as Björn turned to her. She considered the question for a moment. \"Ah, I think I might also need a specialist bow. Something smaller to fit my frame. I bet there's someone in town that could help us, Björn. We just have to look.\" She felt hopeful about the future again. If they both became survivalists then there would be no stopping them from getting to Gantrick. \n\nHer mind was beginning to wander however. The alcohol was finally getting to her. And the room was starting to spin as she took another drink from her half-filled mug. It was probably for the best that Björn had thought ahead. Her tiny body was unlikely to hold much more. \n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Bjorn Ursa", "message": "Björn laughed a little as Ves slipped in her chair, seemingly without realising it herself. He reached over and grabbed the mug, moving it away and out of her reach. \"That's enough for you, little lady.\" The Goliath looked to Varnis who had a hilarious expression.\n\n \"Ahem, yes. A modified bow would work well for you both. Ves, I recommend you find a fletcher tomorrow morning and acquire your bows and quivers... Well Björn may need a spear bucket at this point!\" He sniggered away to himself in the corner while Björn flipped him off. \"I really need to spend some time alone in the morning. Need to revisit some old memories. See what I can learn.\"\n\n \"That seems fair. After all your mind is fragmented, Goliath. Your memories aren't exactly coherent. I know that from my time inside your mindscape.\" \n\nBjörn nodded his head as he quietly sipped his drink. His mind was a myriad of hallways and broken bridges - a labyrinth of memories laden with traps. One wrong move inside his own psyche, and he will remember more than he bargains for. He knew his mind had blocked out most of his childhood for some reason, he didn't know why.\n\n\|\|" } ]	286.5	1,329
360.25	2024-03-14	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Ves", "message": "Ves pouted when Björn took away her mug of mead, but didn't argue. She hiccuped instead and blushed, ducking her head sheepishly. She glanced up again when Varnis addressed her, nodding a little in agreement. She would get her supplies tomorrow and look into finding someone to teach her about survival. She needed to learn how to track and shoot and what wild plants were edible. Maybe she could even find a book with pictures that would help.\n\nShe looked a little concerned when Björn said he needed some time alone, but she could understand. What Björn was struggling with was something only he could handle. Ves knew no matter how much she fussed and worried, there was nothing she could do to make it better. Some things just had to be dealt with alone.\n\nA yawn escaped her suddenly and Ves realized how tired she was. The alcohol and the day's events had finally caught up to her. She blinked eyes that were suddenly very heavy. \"I think I'm going to go to bed,\" She announced to the two men. \"It's been a long day and tomorrow is going to be busy. Hopefully Daggar has a room available.\"\n\nShe hopped off her chair and wandered over to the bar to speak with the Dwarf. She swayed a little on her feet, but managed not to fall or stumble. After a brief discussion and the exchange of some coin, Ves returned victorious to the table with room key in hand. \"Are you staying up Björn?\" There was no expectation in her question: whatever he chose to do was fine with her. \n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Bjorn Ursa", "message": "Björn nodded his head to her question. \"Aye, I'm gonna stay up for now. I need to spend some time by myself. I'll join you soon, I promise.\" The Goliath stood up and kissed the top of her head before finishing his drink. \"What about you, Varnis?\"\n\n\"Well, for me, I'll be turning in for the evening myself. I've got a room upstairs, courtesy of our short, bald friend over there.\" Varnis glanced to Daggar and then back to the table. \"Don't worry about Björn Ves, I'm sure he can sort himself out if trouble arises.\" He gave a reassuring smile. \"I'll see you two in the morning.\" And with that, Varnis ascended the stairs to his own room.\n\nBjörn smiled once more to Ves before throwing his furs over himself and walked out of the Tavern. Walking for a bit, he found a nice spot of grass where he could sit on his knees. Looking up at the stars in the sky and the moon, the Barbarian felt a wave of calm over him.\n\n\"Dearest Lunam. I... Haven't really done this since I was a kid but. Please, oh powerful and ever-present Lord of the Moon and Stars, please help me. My mind is... Filled with a memory I do not recall. Covered in white, cold dust and with a man my brain seems to call my Father. Please... Answer my call and help me. Help me figure out my life and my next steps, show me a pathway forward and give me a sign of some kind. Please Lunam... I beg of you.\" And with that, Björn turned his weary eyes to the heavens once more, watching the stars and constellations shift, waiting for a sign from his God.\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Ves", "message": "Ves smiled affectionately at her partner (or was it boyfriend now?) as he kissed her and nodded. She handed him a key to the room then waved to Varnis as the man made his way upstairs. \"Be safe, Björn,\" She murmured to the Goliath as he headed outside. She was alone.\n\nVes looked around for a moment, then sneakily grabbed her abandoned mug of mead and finished it in a few gulps. Spotting Daggar grinning at her, she grinned sheepishly back before ascending the stairs to the second floor. Her vision blurred a little as she stumbled her way to the room that she and Björn would share. Although she fumbled with the key, she eventually managed and stepped into the well-furnished room.\n\nStripping out of her new dress, she carefully laid it over the back of a chair. She wouldn't wear it tomorrow. It wasn't suitable for an archer or a tracker. It wasn't really suitable for much other than looking pretty. She remembered the look in Björn's eyes as he gazed upon her and her cheeks reddened. She should have handled Varnis differently, she reflected with a light frown. But she couldn't change it now. All she could do was learn from the experience and keep moving forward.\n\nMoving to the large bed, she climbed under the covers and made herself comfortable. The combination of alcohol and emotions made sleep easy and soon Ves had passed out.\n\n \|\|" }, { "author": "Bjorn Ursa", "message": "Dawn arose as Ursa found himself sleeping in the bed of their room, his leg sticking out the side of the bed due to the carpentry not being \"Plus-sized\". He had spent an evening in quiet prayer and meditation to his God, trying his best to fathom his mind. When he did return to the Tavern, Ves was already fast asleep. So, as silent as a mouse, Björn had crept into the bed beside her and settled down soon enough.\n\nHis weary eyes opened up to the sun pouring into the window and birds chirping in the trees. A strange sensation to the Barbarian. He was still trying to shake the feeling of his entrapment beforehand and in the midst of being half-asleep, even a tavern room can look like a cell... Especially to the Goliath.\n\nHe glanced over to Ves, his reminder of freedom and the progression. A small smile crept over his face for a moment. Slowly lifting her arm off of his hairless torso, mainly for fear of waking her, he slowly sat up and went over to the wash basin and wet his face and hai - oh wait, no hair on that head. Instead, he patted his face down with a towel and slipped his clothes on after giving them a preemptive sniff and finding the attire to be good enough for another day or so.\n\nLooking at the Dress Ves had placed over the chair, he walked over and practised his folding on it. After a few minutes of annoyance and groggy-handed work, he had neatly folded the dress into a square shape; and not a crease in sight! Proud of himself, he grabbed some parchment and a quill before placing a small drawing (likened to that of a child's illustration) showing a large angry bearded man going downstairs to fetch food and water. A small 'x' was placed in the corner next to a shakily-written Björn. And with that, he descended the stairs.\n\n\|\|" } ]	364	1,441
400	2024-03-15	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Ves", "message": "Ves woke late and alone. She had slept quite soundly and upon waking, wondered if Björn had even made it to bed. He hadn't woken her, but she could smell his scent and the spot beside her in the bed had obviously been slept in. Sitting up, Ves looked around the spacious room. Her dress was folded neatly in the chair - another sign of Björn's presence. She smiled warmly. It was amazing to her that such simple things could mean so much to her lover. It had never occurred to Ves to teach Björn the simple act of folding clothes and yet the Goliath seemed to find pleasure in the act.\n\nSpotting the parchment, Ves slid from bed to retrieve it. She grinned a little at the illustration, understanding what was meant by the crude drawing. She took the time to slowly sound out Björn's name as it was written, proud of herself for identifying the word. It was thoughtful of Björn to leave her a note. He hadn't wanted her to worry. \n\nMoving to her pack, Ves dug around for a moment before pulling out another bundle of new clothes. These were sensible for traveling and were even dyed a rich forest green. Perhaps the color would help her blend into the foliage better. No matter what, the trousers and tunic were better suited for the day's adventure than the pretty dress.\n\nThe Kobold quickly got dressed and with a stretch and a hop, collected her belongings and headed downstairs. Already the tavern was alive with activity. Breakfast at the Frogleg was apparently good enough to draw a crowd. Some patrons were even drinking despite the early hour. Ves chuckled to herself as she finished descending the stairs, looking around for Björn. He would be easy enough to spot if he was around, although Ves remembered he had wanted to spend some time alone this morning. Perhaps he had already left to sort through his memories. \n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Bjorn Ursa", "message": "Björn was sat at a table with two plates at either side of him - one demolished and in one untouched, seemingly set out for Ves. Björn was amongst the patrons having a morning drink too. He found that somehow, mead goes well with eggs! The Goliath had bits of food all over his beard but upon seeing Ves, immediately began to wipe his beard with his sleeve and waved her over.\n\n\"Good Morning sleepy-head. I thought I'd let you rest up. I got you breakfast!\" He slid a plate over to her with some eggs and meat on it. There was seemingly a side of beans, but the Barbarian had taken it upon himself to relieve her plate of the extra protein and he had a guilty smile on his face about it. \"How did you sleep?\" The Goliath looked up at her, resisting the urge to lick his plate clean and bouncing his leg under the table; which sometimes bumped the table a little as he sat.\n\"I thought we'd start the day with food before you go out to find some gear or some hunting expert. I need to do my exercises. I was going to do them in the room but... Well, you deserved your rest.\"\n\nThe Goliath had taken note of how drained Ves looked yesterday, not knowing fully why due to his lack of emotional maturity or intelligence. He summerised in his head that all warriors deserve a good sleep and a hot meal. \"The proteins will help fire you up for the day ahead. It'll be a day of hard work and grit! My fucking favourite kind of day!\" While others would see labor as a chore, to the Goliath's idle hands it was a blessing. All this bathing and socialising and boring people stuff was dulling his senses. He needed work, he craved work, he had a thirst for blood that no amount of black pudding could solve... Although he did eat plenty of that with his second portion of food.\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Ves", "message": "It was easy enough to spot Björn in the crowd. Ves smiled and waved before hurrying down the rest of the stairs and making her way over to her partner. She ducked and weaved through the crowds with expert ease, barely noticed by anyone. She was small and lithe and knew how to use her size to her advantage. She could have probably taken a few coin purses too if she had wanted.\n\nVes smiled warmly as she popped up out of the crowd beside Björn's table. She quickly climbed into the chair beside the Goliath, letting her feet dangle in the air as she turned her attention towards the plate of food. It smelled delicious and Ves' stomach grumbled eagerly. \"Food is a good start,\" She agreed happily as she began to eat. Björn had gotten a head start and she needed to catch up.\n\n\"I slept well. Very well. I haven't slept so soundly in ages. I guess the mead really got to me,\" She chuckled. She knew that it wasn't Just The mead, but didn't want to dwell on the emotional outburst of the day before. Björn certainly seemed full of restless energy this morning. It was probably because he hadn't had a chance to exercise or work lately. On the boat there had always been something to do. On land they had had the chance to relax. It seemed Björn didn't like it as much as she did.\n\nChuckling, Ves worked on finishing her eggs and sausage. \"Any sign of Varnis this morning?\" She asked her companion curiously. She took another bite and chewed thoughtfully as she looked around the room once again to see if she could spot their newfound friend. \n \n\|\|" }, { "author": "Bjorn Ursa", "message": "\"Da. I saw Varnis through the window an hour ago. Couldn't miss him if I tried. He said he was going to practice some Transmutation spells. Like when I gave myself gills. Apparently it's a hobby of his.\" He shrugged, thinking to himself how he should probably try to learn from him too. \"He said he may drop in on you later to see how your getting on. Something about enjoying a chat between ladies? I can't understand the guy sometimes. Half the time I wonder if he is speaking some other language.\" He shrugged once again as he finished his mead.\n\n\"So I was thinking. While you go and find us some bows and arrows at the very least, following Varnis' suggestions, maybe I can go and do some exercise, maybe chop some firewood for Daggar as thanks. I need an excuse to swing an axe at something and tree sap is more or less like a tree's blood anyway... Not the best substitute but it'll do!\" The Goliath flexed his bicep idly, frowning at the lack of effort before trying properly. The veins in his arm slightly bulged as he did so. \"The one thing I miss about... Before was there was always exercise to do. Be it hauling in fish, fixing a leak in the boat, pushing the hull off a rock or practicing my punches on the mast. I can't exactly let loose in a place as nice as this. Definitely can't start a tavern brawl, I'll probably kill someone on accident!\"\n\nThe Barbarian laughed, but inside he was anxious. He felt like this whole town was one big trap; a cage keeping him relaxed and tame... Weakened. He felt that at any minute an Orc may come in here with a warrant for his return, or that he will be taken in the night. He feared it. Feared it more than anything. In truth, chopping down a tree or two would help alleviate his worries and let out some of his pent up rage. He can't exactly use it in town for any good reason and he especially cannot let it out on his companion.\n\n\|\|" } ]	399.5	1,600
317.666667	2024-02-21	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Ves", "message": "Ves could still hear the cheers and jeers as the door to the Frogleg Tavern closed behind them. She slowed down her pace, no longer 'dragging' the Goliath, but walking peacefully beside him. She lifted her eyes to gaze up at him and smiled warmly. She squeezed his hand as tightly as she could, which was surely only a pinch to the stone man. Ves looked like she was about to say something, then turned her eyes quickly back to the street. \n\n\"Okay then! Do you see a sign for the barbershop?\" The Kobold squinted at the various shops surrounding them. She couldn't read a single one, though she did recognize some of the letters. She sounded those out quietly to herself. With their adventure leading them North, there would be plenty of time to study. Hopefully someday soon she would finally be able to read. \n\nThere was the trouble of bringing books along, of course. Books were heavy and hard to travel with. They could be expensive and difficult to keep in good condition. Though with Björn's superior strength and their stolen gold, perhaps it wouldn't prove to be such a challenge. They would definitely need supplies as well and so Ves kept her keen eyes out for any traveling wares.\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Bjorn Ursa", "message": "Björn slowed his pace as they entered the market square. It was definitely an amazing experience, being in such a lively market. The Goliath would have to keep his head on a swivel and a hand on his coin purse in a place like this. He cupped a hand over his brow to beat the sun from his already impaired vision. Looking around the square, he glanced at the stalls. Surely he would see a stall with a man cutting hair right? However, he did not see any kind of tent or stall of that matter. He saw fruits, vegetables, fresh cuts of meat, fabrics and colours he didn't know the names for and magic crystals that sang in the sun. He saw urchins and elderly folk and couples alike, as well as drunks slumped next to buildings... One outside a shop labelled 'Barber Surgeon'! That must be it!\n\n\"I found it, see there! Next to the drunk man! Barber! Well, Barber Surgeon, but I only want a haircut! Surely that will work, right? Come on now Ves, I don't know if there will be a queue.\" And with that, he set off across the street and weaving past stands and men carrying goods and logs to and fro. Björn approached the shop window and peered inside. He saw a row of three leather chairs with grates at their base. A man was sat in the one closest to the window, being tended to by a man who dabbed his face with a dirty white cloth. The Goliath took a deep breath and entered.\n\nThe shop bell rang above the door as the pair walked in, catching the attention of the two workers; one Elf tending to a customer and one Humanoid who had a long furry tail and droopy ears. \"Come in, come in! Welcome sir and madame. My name is Mikah and I'll be looking after ya!\" The perky and youthful Shapeshifter said, clearly the Elf's apprentice based on his enthusiasm. \"How may I be of service this day?\"\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Ves", "message": "Ves put her own hand to her brow to see where Björn was indicating. B —like the B in Björn's name— ar-ber. Barber. Surgeon must have been the second word and she recognized the S and E from her own name. She tried to commit the words to memory, closing her eyes briefly to envision them. Then realizing she was being left behind, Ves hurried to catch up with Björn.\n\nVes wove through the crowds with ease, darting around people who didn't even notice her. A barking dog nearby made her jump and she took a longer route until she caught up with Björn. She stood on her tiptoes to peer into the window as well, her eyes scanning the room. It certainly looked like they had found the place.\n\nShe trailed after the Goliath as he led the way into the shop. Ves' Kobold brain immediately took in her surroundings and went through a dozen scenarios that could end in disaster. Ves quelled the urge to dart back out of the small building. She looked up as the floppy-eared man approached - a Shapeshifter, though one she couldn't immediately identify. She smiled back, gently nudging Björn to encourage him to answer. \n\n\|\|" } ]	260	953
491.25	2024-02-22	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Bjorn Ursa", "message": "\"Oh uh... My name is U- Björn. This is Ves. Daggar sent me for... He called it a shave?\" The Goliath's words made the Shapeshifter and the Elf both look in his direction a bit more. It seemed that using Daggar's name had some level of meaning to them. The elf, tall and cold, simply returned to his work on the man in his chair, snipping away as he spoke to Mikah. \"Well boy, time to work on your trade. I trust you to give the man an impeccable shave.\"\n\"Well-yes sir. I will get on that, Tarion-sir.\" Mikah responded, his back straightening when he was addressed by his superior.\n\n\"Well mister Björn, please take a seat and I will be with you. Your friend can take a seat over there while we get to work.\" The Shapeshifter apprentice gestured with one hand to a seat before a mirror, large and weathered - it was somewhat close to Björn's size for once. His other hand gestured to a long bench that was sat at the other end of the shop, where a few other customers sat in their own conversations or reading in quiet contemplation. A small table was in front of the bench, with a few second-hand books for children laid face up.\n\nAs Björn sat in the chair, settling in with the creaking, Mikah walked around him and paused for a second... He then rushed behind the shop's counter to retrieve a wooden crate which he hopped upon to stand above Björn's rigid head. \" So, you came as a recommendation, right? I can tell. This head hasn't seen a single inch of care... We will soon change that! So, is it all coming off?\" Björn paused for a second... Before asking in a quiet and anxious tone. \"Can you make it look like a real Goliath's head?\" Mikah paused and nodded, considering the question. \"I can give you a Goliath's shave, that's fine. I'll also throw in some linework for your markings. God's know they'll need it.\n\"Mikah, remember to make that at a discounted price.\" The skilful elven barber cut in as he dragged a strange blade across the customer's throat. \n\n\"Oh yeah, of course, sir. Daggar would tan my hide if not! I don't want a repeat of last time.\"*\n\nTheir conversation was foreign to Björn, words like shave, markings, linework... It made no sense. He would have to wait and see and trust the work of these men. It is their craft afterall.\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Ves", "message": "Ves smiled as Björn spoke up, introducing them and explaining what he wanted. It was good for him to interact with other Friendly* Folk. It made Ves feel good to know that he was capable of managing without her. After all, what if something happened to her? He needed the social skills to get along in the world. Not that Ves wanted anything to happen! She planned on being around for a very long time.\n\nThe Kobold moved to sit on the bench, near the others who were waiting as well. She maintained a polite distance between herself and the people, just in case she made them uncomfortable. She eyed the children's books with interest, but did not reach for any. She was embarrassed by her disability and unwilling to look like a fool in front of strangers. Besides. Her level of reading wasn't even comparable to a child's yet. Soon, She promised herself. They had time. She would learn.\n\nInstead Ves focused on Björn. She hoped all would go well. There would be sharp blades involved and he was putting himself at the mercy of these people. They were experts, she reminded herself, feeling nervous on Björn's behalf. And they meant no harm. That sharp blade would do away with the Goliath's unwanted hair, not slit his throat. She hoped Björn was realizing the same thing. \n\nShe did wonder what they meant by Linework. It was unfamiliar to her. Well, she would soon find out. Ves' tail flicked behind her, the only sign of her anxiousness.\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Bjorn Ursa", "message": "\"Okay Björn... That's how you say it right? I will start with your head and then the beard.\" Mikah said as he pulled open a drawer and retrieved a pair of gloves and some shears for the amount of general hair removal. Björn took a deep breath and fixed his eyes on the mirror. He hadn't seen his face in so long. The last time he saw it was in the slivered reflection of a Kobold's dagger or the wavy distortion of a water trough's reflection. Here, he saw himself for what he was. His scars seemed better, less pink and raw. The salt air had done him good. His hair, however, was matted, coarse, and messy. Ves could only do so much with his head of hair after all.\n\nHe watched as Mikah put on his gloves over his furry hands and held the shears with quiet concentration he braced himself, only ever seeing blades as tools of war... Snip. Just like that it glided effortlessly through the first clump of hair. Mikah blew gently against the blades as the clump fell to the ground as graceful as a snowflake - a brown and slightly greyed snowflake. The first swing had been made. The battle ensued. The Barbarian gripped the arms of the leather chair with a feeling of stress as his barber cut away at the hedge on his head, bringing it from a messy mop to a short and flat set of hair that looked semi-normal.\n\nThen Mikah hopped down to grab a bowl and began mixing a white creamy foam within it on a brush. When he climbed back up, kicking his foot to the side to remove some of the hair from his shoe, he began to lather the foam over his head. Fucking hell that is cold! But then, after the shock, came relaxation... The Goliath felt that it was nice, soothing and light upon his skin. Once an even coating was applied, the Shapeshifter pulled out a long blade from his apron. While the blade was short, like the handle, it was impossibly thin - and sharp in appearance.\n\nBjörn was confused until he pressed it to his head at an angle and glided it effortlessly over his skin, wiping the f\n\nOam and excess hair from the blade on his sleeve. The Barber was mindful of the scars on his face and seemingly ones that were hidden under his hair. As he shaved the Goliath's head, it was clear that the scarring from the attack that blinded his eye went further back up onto his head than one could originally see. However, that was not the only new surprise on his head. As he shaved away at his scalp, lines began to become visible on his head, lines that jutted at strange angles and separated his skin tone from different hues on his skin. These must be the linework that the Barber mentioned! They seemed to form a pattern on his head that must have been unique to Björn's body. The markings of a true Goliath, are covered by years of animalistic slavery and savagery.\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Ves", "message": "She watched the barber work his magic, smiling at Björn's confidence. Be strong. Be brave. She did notice the way he gripped the chair at first, but slowly began to relax. Good. He deserved to relax. So much of his life was spent worrying: over her, over being caught, over their safety. It was nice to forget those worries and simply live life like a normal person.\n\nVes leaned back a little and let her gaze wander the room. Her eyes met Björn's in the mirror and she nodded her head at him in encouragement. She took the moment to study her own reflection as well. Her horns swept backwards over her skull and her scales gleamed silver and black. She liked her eyes the most: they were a beautiful shade of amber, a lovely mixture of red and gold. Her large ears were unusual: no one else in her clutch had had such ears. She had often been teased about them while growing up. She tried not to let it bother her, but she was a sensitive soul. They made her feel out of place among her own kind. Not that that was necessarily a bad thing.\n\nHer mind drifted back to Björn as it so often did. He was desperate for his own people. What would happen when they finally found the Goliaths? Would they accept Björn as one of them? And what about her? She would be far in the North, in a hostile and strange environment. What if the other Goliaths weren't welcoming to her? What if they turned her away? What would Björn do then? She didn't want him to have to choose between her and his people. But if she encouraged him, it would mean she would be lost and alone in a cruel world. Ves shivered at the thought.\n\nWell, they would just have to cross that bridge when they came to it. It was still a long way off. Traveling North would take time. And who knew what would happen before then. \n\n\|\|" } ]	499	1,965
486.625	2024-02-25	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Bjorn Ursa", "message": "Björn nodded with a smile as he awkwardly turned around on the spot, not knowing how to twirl, nor attempting to. She seemed pleased with his looks. He appreciated that. Looking down at her, feeling the air on his scalp, he felt like a rugged proud warrior of the Goliath race. In truth, that was all he wanted. He observed how she admired him, how she studied his features as if meeting him for the first time. The way she looked at her now... It was very different compared to back in that cage.\n\nBack then, she looked at him with fear, hesitation and expecting trouble. Back then, he was savage. Back then, he was everything that a racist would expect from a Dazvaz runaway. However, he was not that man anymore. He had left his sorry excuse for a home behind physically, he just needed to leave it behind mentally and spiritually but that came with time. He was still there, deep inside. Battling a strong foe - societal pressure.\n\n\"Of course, Ves!\" Mikah smiled and slightly bowed his head. \"I am honoured to have helped your friend. I wish you both luck on your rest of your day and subsequent journeys.\" He looked as if he may approach to open the door for them, but a glance from his Master told him he had work to do. He spun on his heels and hurried back behind the counter to produce a broom to clean his station. Björn gave a small wave to the Shapeshifter and ducked his head as he walked out after Ves, into the afternoon sun.\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Ves", "message": "Ves began leading the way down the street, looking about for a sign that might indicate a bathhouse. She searched for the letter 'B' and maybe a picture to help her identify the building. She also kept her eyes peeled for any more taverns. She had liked the Frogleg Tavern, but she didn't think there would be much privacy there. It was simply too loud and rambunctious. She wanted somewhere quieter, but also where they wouldn't stand out too badly. It was a delicate line.\n\nShe pointed out a few signs, one that read 'Bookshop' and the other that read 'Bows and Arrows.' Finally she spotted a sign with a bathtub and a flower carved into it and a 'B' at the beginning of the name. She eagerly looked up at Björn. \"What about that one? Does that say bathhouse?\" She sounded hopeful. She made her way towards the building, tail flicking back and forth in anticipation.\n\nPushing open the door, Ves looked around the room curiously. It was nicer than the previous bathhouse in Dasvaz, though much the same in other ways. There was a counter that an Elf sat behind and she looked up when the pair entered. She offered a smile and greeted them politely. \"Good afternoon and welcome to the Lily Spring Bathhouse. How can I help you?\"\n\nVes smiled in return. Everywhere they went in Willowdale they found smiling people. She liked it. It made her feel less nervous. \"We would like to use the facilities,\" She answered. It was a bit of a silly question and a sillier answer. Why else would they be here? They needed a good bath. \"Of course, of course! We have our separate female and male baths or a communal bath for all to use. Which would you prefer?\" Ves looked up at Björn curiously. Did he want privacy? Or would he rather they stick together? \n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Bjorn Ursa", "message": "Björn followed behind her, rubbing his head as he felt the alien sensation of wind against his freshly shaved head. It tickled him in a way he found relaxing yet annoying. He decides to treat the sensation similar to how the Goliath would treat a fresh scar - the feeling will become normal over time. He looked down, panicking for a moment as Ves had seemingly disappeared into a sea of faces. His one good eye scanned the environment for a moment before noticing Shrike perched on a sign... He thought it read Bathhouse, but from a distance - taking into account his disability with sight and depth perception - Björn was unsure. Nevertheless, he made his way towards the Familiar.\n\nSure enough, the clever bird had found Ves. When she turned to look up at him, he was standing behind her. Björn decided not to confess that he had lost her in the crowd due to her eagerness and reckless abandon; partially because he didn't know how to phrase it and partially from embarrassment. The barbarian followed Ves inside after nodding to her question. By the Gods, this place was swank! It resembled the last bathhouse they had been in, but it was much cleaner and inviting. There were so many strange things in pots - they had different colours and shapes, standing on green stalks. He had seen them before once, in a field they camped in... He recalled a book he read on their stolen ship too, were these flowers?\n\nHe listened to the clerk speak before seeing Ves was looking to him for an answer. She never seemed to take charge or initiative, leaving questions and choices to him. She had decided to follow Björn to find his people, and let Björn decide about taking Kip's job and even now, she wanted him to decide if they would bathe together or separately... As much as he admired Ves, he admitted to himself that he found it slightly annoying how he had to choose. Nevertheless, he paused and thought before answering. \"How much for the split sex facilities here?\" While a part of him would pr\n\nEfer Ves to be with him, she would only get ogled by other men. She should learn to trust isolation in case they are ever separated. This was but training disguised as relaxation. To Björn... He knew the truth.\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Ves", "message": "Ves bobbed her head in agreement. It was probably for the best. Though Ves didn't think anyone would behave like the Dwarves had in Dasvaz, she would feel more comfortable in the female-only bath. It made her a little uneasy to be away from Björn, but the feeling wasn't weighing her down. She felt safe in Willowdale. Perhaps that was a mistake. Maybe she should have been on higher alert. She was far too relaxed.\n\nThe Elf named a fair price and Ves handed over the coin in exchange for a couple of large fluffy towels. Handing one to Björn, Ves smiled. \"I plan on taking my time, so don't feel like there's any sort of rush,\" She said. Then she turned and made her way through the doors marked for females only.\n\nBeyond the door was breathtaking beauty. There were lilies decorating the room and ornate vases and lamps. Cushioned seats and plush rugs covered the floor. Two large pools were in the center of the room. Steam rose over one and it was slightly cloudy where the second was perfectly clear. Copper tubs lined the walls, with baskets next to them that held soap and other toiletries. It was busier than the previous bathhouse as well, with a few other patrons lounging in tubs and pools and some chatted quietly amongst themselves.\n\nVes moved to one of the tubs and turned on the hot water, letting it fill up. In the meantime she dug around the basket, sniffing the soap experimentally. This place was Much Nicer than the previous bathhouse. The other ladies didn't even seem to notice her either. It made her feel at ease as she stripped and stepped into the tub. She sighed to herself as she lowered herself into the steaming water. \n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Bjorn Ursa", "message": "Björn nodded to Ves and gave a small wave of his hand as she left. As soon as she was through the door, his smile slowly faded. He politely thanked the clerk and made his way into the Male section. Pushing the door open and instinctively lowering his head, he found the Male chambers to be very clean and reserved. With only a few indications of these 'Lillies' he had seen before, the chambers were just clean, white and minimalist. He found himself liking how empty it was, something about a decluttered space was soothing - perhaps too much... He did live in a cramped cell for years.\n\nStepping into an enclosed changing area, he disrobed and threw his garb on the bench, which caused one of the more refined patrons to look towards the crumpled pile with a disgusted expression. He turned to address whoever was such a tardy patron who lacked social graces, only to lock eyes with a stone-faced Goliath with his pants around his ankles. The man swallowed, looking him up and down for a moment and holding his tongue. Björn looked where his eyes glanced at his pile of clothes, which brought attention to the man's neatly folded pile. \"Oh. Excuse me. How do you do that?\" The Barbarian pointed to the man's neat clothing, which caused the man to nearly chortle but quickly decided against having his nose broken.\n\n\"Oh... This? Why, that is called folding, good sir. Keeps the wrinkles out of your garb.\" The man's voice was pretentious, he had heard this kind of 'rich man' voice before - back in Dazvaz when one wished to buy him but was promptly thrown out the door for trying to get merchandise that wasn't for sale. \"Can you show me... Please?\" Björn remembered his manners and quickly threw the nicety in there for good measure. \"Sure, but I never heard of your kind—you know what? Doesn't matter... Here, let me show you.\" The man hesitantly reached over and began to fold the garment for Björn. A couple passers-by saw this and raised a brow before moving on.\n\n\"There, se\n\nE? This keeps your... Clothes pristine.\"\n\"I see... Thank you, Sir...?\" Björn questioned for his name to which the man promptly replied. \"Oh yes, my manners escaped me for but a moment. I am Varnis, Sir Varnis Baragon, esquire. And you are..?\" The man stuck out his hand as he asked his name.\n\"Oh, I am Björn. Björn Ursa.\" The Goliath looked at his hand and took his hand from the towel around his waist and gripped his hand to shake it. His first real handshake! Ves would be proud... If it wasn't for the fact that when he let go of his towel, it fell to the floor. So it was that Björn's first meeting with Varnis was with a sweaty palm and an accidental flash.\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Ves", "message": "The bath proved to be as relaxing as Ves expected. She felt the tension in her muscles melt away in the hot water. Gods, she needed this. Traveling was tiresome. It took a toll on the body and spirit. Ves wished she had a place to call home, a place where she could settle down and stop moving for a while. Although she enjoyed the adventure and discovering new places, there was something to be said about being able to just be Still. \n\nI'll need to get over that, She thought to herself. There was nothing but movement in her future. She and Björn would head North to Gantrick. They would have to abandon Kip's ship, the source of their livelihood and their main way of traveling. Perhaps they could find a caravan to join, or maybe they would just go on alone. Either way, Ves' search for a place to call home would continue. She just hoped that one day it would end.\n\nTaking the soap that smelled of honeysuckle, Ves began to scrub the salt and dirt off her scales. She was a fastidious creature at heart, preferring to be clean whenever possible. There was only so much she could manage, however, especially once they started traveling again. She wondered when her next hot bath would be and decided that she better thoroughly enjoy the one she was taking now. \n\nRinsing off the soap, the little Kobold pulled the plug at the bottom of the tub to let it drain. She stood up, reaching for the towel, reflecting on the events of the previous bathhouse. She had been injured then and helpless and nobody but Björn had seemed to care. Then one thing led to another and... Ves' scales turned red at the memory. She wrapped the towel around her lithe body and looked around. The other women were still ignoring her and so, feeling happily invisible, Ves made her way to the steaming pool of water.\n\nIt looked to be connected to a hot spring and the steam tickled her nose. She dipped one clawed toe into the pool to test the temperature, before setting her towel aside again and submerging herself entirely into the pool. The tub had felt wonderful, but this was even better. The heat was intense, but Ves liked it. Perhaps it was the lizard in her that favored the heat. There were even ledges built into the side of the pool, providing a perfect place to sit and relax. Ves wondered if Björn was enjoying himself as much. She hoped so. \n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Bjorn Ursa", "message": "\"BY MY STARS!\" Varnis gasped and immediately looked away as Björn scrambled to retie his towel. \"Shit- I am sorry!\" Was all he could muster as he tightened it around his waist and held it secure.\n\"No, no. It's quite alright.\" Varnis replied as he composed himself, looking up to face him. \"Come now, we shall speak nothing of it. Follow me, the waters are waiting and you seem like you could use it. Varnis spun on his heels as he turned around. It was then that Björn began to notice things about Varnis and his appearance. His hair was jet black and seemed to practically fall into place, covering most of his head. His arms, torso and back were covered in strange markings... They looked like runes or tattoos. His ears stuck out like an elf's too. He was a strange-looking man, which gave them both something in common.\n\n\"There, you hop into that tub there and I'll go here. As much as I bet you're great for bathtub company I prefer to clean myself alone before the steam pool, don't be offended. Varnis joked nervously as he slipped his towel off and hopped into the steamy bathtub, picking out his preferred fragrances as if shopping at a general store - Björn could tell this wasn't his first time here. Following Varnis' instructions, he stepped into his own tub, sinking in as the water overflowed from his size. He glanced at the soaps, recalling the ones in Dazvaz were much less varied. The Goliath made his pick and began to clean himself up.\n\n\"So, what brings a Goliath all the way out here?\" Varnis asked - a polite iterrorgation.\n\"Just travelling really. Want to learn more about my people.\" Björn made himself vague deliberately. If this was to be a battle of information, he would surely lose.\n\"You came into town with a Kobold and a Raven...\" Varnis knew more than he was letting on! \"So I'll assume Dazvaz. From that mark on your shoulder, I was when I first laid eyes upon you, I'll wager you're an escapee from the slave trade. Am I\n\nHitting the nail on the proverbial head?\"\n\nThe look on Björn's face must have been a rich one for Varnis to laugh the way he did as a reaction.\n\"Come now Björn Ursa, a name like that and a tattoo like that gives it all away! Besides, I saw you in the square an hour ago dancing while your allies watched. It was cute. Oh drop the shock horror expression will you, I'm not going to hand you over to anyone.\" Björn calmed down and let go of the brass tub, he didn't realise he had used some rage in his moment of fear and had accidentally bent the metal he had desperately clung to... How did he know so much?! \"If you're wondering how I know so much, it's simply my business to know someone's business. A skill just like any other trade. Besides, it's fun to make friends in new places. So consider me your friend, Björn.\"\n\nBjörn couldn't explain it, but deep inside he knew this man was to be trusted. He seemed like a bit of an outcast, too. Varnis then hopped out of the tub and slipped into the main pool, beckoning Björn who followed. Such began a long conversation between confidants.\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Ves", "message": "While Björn enjoyed the company of his newfound friend, Ves enjoyed her solitude. The atmosphere was peaceful in the bathhouse. It was mostly quiet, except for the soft murmurings of other patrons talking amongst themselves. Did her keen ears catch the word Kobold Whispered by someone? Perhaps, but Ves didn't let it bother her. Let people talk. Willowdale in general didn't seem to care, so why should she?\n\nShe lost track of time. Perhaps she had dozed off in the comfort of the hot spring, and before Ves realized it, hours had passed by. The other women were gone and she was alone in the room. Ves stood and grabbed her towel, drying herself off quickly. Hopefully Björn wasn't worried about her. Hopefully he was still enjoying himself. She had told him to take his time, after all. \n\nShe moved to where she had left her bundle of clean clothes and got dressed carefully. It was a new outfit and one she wasn't entirely comfortable in. It wasn't practical, but it was pretty and the fabric was soft, so she had bought it. Ves was also kind of hoping Björn would take notice. After all, she had never worn a dress before. Would he like it?\n\nSmoothing the fabric of her new gown, she packed up her dirty old clothes. She had bought more traveling attire as well, for when they set out on their next adventure. But right now she wanted to wear the dress, though she felt equal parts silly and pretty. Finding a bin to leave her dirty towel, Ves ventured back out into the main lobby. She felt new and refreshed and ready to tackle the rest of the day. \n\n\|\|" } ]	444.5	3,893
407	2024-02-26	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Bjorn Ursa", "message": "While Ves napped in the pool, Björn and Varnis discussed topics. Not having to hide his origins was a breath of fresh air for the Goliath and he believed that it would be beneficial to tell someone his story. Besides, if he turned out to be a threat, he could easily deal with a guy like him. Their conversation spanned how Ursa Majora was taken and moulded into a gladiator - a slave groomed for fighting and nothing else. They discussed his plans to find his people in the North and his future. Björn learned about Varnis too - a being who is fuelled by affection, trying to become an author and studier of the divine and demonic.\n\n\"...And that is what led me here, a bottle of Alynthian brandy and a heart locked in a box.\" Varnis explained as he sipped on a glass of water while relaxing in the pool. Björn was certainly confused by his story but it made sense. He felt strange, seeing how Varnis and his body operated. \"It is very... Interesting. No, really I mean it. I found I like books myself.\"\n\"Ahh, a lover of literacy in the body of a Giant... Well, a Goliath.\" Varnis was soon learning his jokes and absent digs were lost on the Barbarian. He was somewhat smart, but not studied.\n\nThe duo got up and dried off, changing back into their folded clothes as Björn marvelled at how crisp his shirt looked. By the time Ves had awoken and hurried outside, Björn and the tall dark figure were standing in the doorway to the bathhouse. Both were painted in an orange-purple light from the newly setting sun. Varnis had a hand on Björn's shoulder that softly glowed blue as they talked. The Goliath seemed majorly unbothered by it as he spoke, laughing to himself as he did. Hearing familiar footfalls, he turned to look in Ves' direction as his eyes widened; Varnis turned with him, his hand on his shoulder and a sly smile on his face.\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Ves", "message": "Ves' eyes immediately sought out the familiar figure of Björn. He was standing in the doorway and the way the colors of the sunset washed over him made him look like he was glowing. But there was someone else beside him, hand on his shoulder. They were talking and laughing together and seemed unusually close. Had Björn found a friend? \n\nThey both turned in unison and Ves met the stranger's eyes. She didn't like that sly and knowing smile. The little Kobold felt her defenses rise and a part of her shut down. Her shy smile was still there, but there was hesitation in it now. She suddenly felt ridiculous in her pretty gown. She wasn't dressed properly and she felt naked and scrutinized. Her long ears flicked backwards and her tail, usually expressive, was eerily still behind her. \n\n\"Hey, Björn,\" She said lamely. \"Did you enjoy your bath? You look refreshed. Sorry I took so long. Umm... Who is your friend?\" This was not how she imagined this would go. What had she thought would happen? Would she rush into his arms and be lifted and twirled and told how beautiful she looked? Stupid. Part of her seriously considered retreating and changing outfits. She shifted uncomfortably as she waited for Björn's response. \n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Bjorn Ursa", "message": "Björn glowed in the light as he turned to face her, his expression was... Dumbfounded. He looked at her, there in that dress and he didn't know what to feel. Varnis' hand released from his shoulder, a bit of blue electricity fading from his palm. Björn immediately began to walk over, slowly. He never said a word, instead he loomed over her, his yellow eye glowing slightly in the light. He knelt down to her level and looked at her in the eyes as he fought back a tear that glued to his blinded eye.\n\n\"Ves... You look stunning, lass.\" Was all he could say as he looked at her. The dress wasn't silly at all. He liked it, he liked it a lot. He didn't know what it was but the way she looked so formal, it was simply stunning to him. He smiled and reached out to touch the side of her face, slightly brushing her ear with his finger. \"Honestly... Belle of the ball.\"\n\n\"I concur Björn...\" The man said with a smile that seemed a bit unnatural on his face.\n\"Oh, right. I almost forgot...\" The Goliath stepped back and out of the way, gesturing with his arm. \"Ves, this is Varnis. I met him inside, and he taught me how to fold clothes. Thank you for that spell you cast by the way Varnis.\"\n\"Nonsense, anything for a friend, no? Besides, a simple calming spell stops any anxiety or rage-induced bouts.\" The man seemed to smile to himself as he clenched his fist, a few sparks of magic coming from them before leaning down to offer his hand to her.\n\n \"Varnis Baragon, esquire. You must be the femme fatale Björn was telling me about... Ves isn't it? As he leaned down, there was something strange about him for sure. Was it the way he held a cane under his off-arm? Or was it the fact it looked like something was hiding in his hair? The man was handsome, that much was true. But was his kindness enough to win over Ves?\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Ves", "message": "She gazed up at Björn as he crossed the room to stand over her. They stared at each other for a moment before he knelt. His words almost made her lower her guard before the stranger. Almost. However, Björn's reaction was the one she desired. The look of admiration and shock in his eye was what she had imagined. Belle of the ball. His words echoed in her mind. She smiled dreamily at him, the scales across her nose turning red.\n\nThen the stranger spoke and Ves' little bubble of happiness shattered. She looked up at the man and, while her expression wasn't considered Warm, It wasn't cold either. The man seemed strange to her. Something about him was off-putting, but she couldn't put her finger on it. Not yet anyway.\n\nShe listened to the introduction in quiet contemplation. He had taught Björn how to fold clothes and now he was casting spells on her friend to ease his anxiety. Anxiety? Björn had anxiety? Of course he did, though Ves had never really stopped to consider it before. It struck her as strange, however, that Björn had let his guard down so much with a total stranger. What had transpired at the bath in the few short hours they were separated? This man was obviously some kind of spell caster. What if he had Björn under his control?\n\nVes hesitated as Varnis offered his hand to her. She wasn't keen on touching the stranger, especially without knowing if Björn was under some kind of curse. But she didn't want to be rude either. So she did the first thing that came to mind: she curtsied. It was clumsy and unfamiliar, but it was a polite way to make introductions. At the same time she smiled. It was a well-calculated expression, one meant to be unassuming and shy. Her suspicions were already growing.\n\n\"It's Ves, yes. But what has Björn been telling you?\" It scared her a little to realize he knew of her. What had Björn said? Surely nothing important. Unless he was under Varnis' control. Then there was no telling what he might know! Calm down, She chided herself. She didn't need to panic and let her imagination run wild. She needed to remain cool and composed and ready for anything.\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Bjorn Ursa", "message": "Varnis watched her curtsey, his expression shifting to a satisfied smile as he bowed himself. \"Forgive me, I did not know you were a woman of grace.\" He bowed his head and for a moment, it looked like the man had horns. He moved quickly though, snapping back up into his original position. \"As for what he told me...\" His face shifted as he spoke, his smile fading as he looked down at her with an air of caution as he slipped a black glove over his heavily marked hand. \"The walls have ears in places such as these. I am sure Mr Majora would prefer we speak elsewhere, hmm? Perhaps where friends can speak uninterrupted.\" Varnis looked at her, in his eyes he seemed he wanted her to understand something. Why did he call him Majora - as in Ursa Majora?\n\n\"Varnis is right, Ves. We should go someplace else, for all our benefit.\" He paused, debating his knowledge of the area - which was shoddy, at best. \"Let's go see Daggar. Frogleg's bound to be open at this time.\" Björn looked up at the sky and smiled, spotting something above him as the stars began to make their presence known. He rubbed his wrist as he gazed at one set of stars in particular and his eye twinkled with potential.\n\n\"Frogleg? Oh you mean the Tavern, right? Be a good as place as any. I don't know about you but I am starving... Ravenous even! I'll buy us all a warm meal, how about that? Consider it... An olive branch, dear Ves.\" He smiled, earnestly as he spoke. His mannerisms were very well kept, yet something about his words... It was a double-entendre with every line he said. Almost as if he has danced these steps before. \"C'mon Ves. I am sure they got something other than fish for once, right?\"\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Ves", "message": "Ves almost laughed bitterly at Varnis' response to her curtsy. She couldn't shake the feeling that he was making fun of her somehow. There was something tricky about his words. And although it probably Was A good idea to speak elsewhere, she didn't like how he had suggested it. Something about the whole situation made her bristle. Internally anyway. On the outside she wore a concerned smile.\n\n\"Of course. Back to the Frogleg Tavern then,\" She agreed with Björn. He seemed to like the place more than she did. It was exciting, but the noise hurt her ears a little and she didn't like shouting to be heard. How were they going to find someplace secretive in such a place? Maybe Varnis knew something they didn't. Obviously Varnis knew something they didn't. Or at least that She Didn't. Still, she had already agreed. It was too late to change her mind now.\n\nVes bit down on the inside of her cheek, her sharp teeth making her taste blood. She didn't like how Varnis was talking to her. It almost felt like he was being condescending, but it was more subtle than that. Ves couldn't exactly describe it, but she knew she didn't like it. \"A warm meal sounds great, thanks Varnis,\" She replied, her smile never once wavering. She could play games as well and had more up her sleeve than most realized. She was, after all, only a cowardly Kobold.\n\nUnless Björn had unwittingly given the game away. \n\n\|\|" } ]	438.5	2,442
135	2022-01-03	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Damir Walch", "message": "Damir sat in an armchair reading a book, with a pile of similar books next to him. They seemed to document various arcane subjects, from magical diseases to the making of various enchanted items. He was clearly frustrated, at glanced at his watch. The library closed soon. Typical. Not enough hours of darkness in the day." }, { "author": "mountainlionlover.com2448", "message": "Artemis walked around seemingly aimlessly, searching for the perfect book. She preferred books on favorite subject: art. They were scattered around the library in a disorderly fashion. In her search for a book, she found, to her surprise, a person. Odd. It was nighttime. Artemis came at this time only because less people were likely to be at the library. Maybe the person was a librarian? Quietly the fighter neared the person. Why not ask to see if they know of any good art books? She thought. \"H'llo?\" Artemis asked the figure. It was dark, and she couldn't see well. \"Do you happen to have any recommendations for books on art? Or perhaps know where a good one might be?\" She asked." }, { "author": "Damir Walch", "message": "He looked up at the approaching woman. He could see just fine in the dark, but nonetheless kept a candle nearby, to maintain the illusion of being a normal person. He held the candle up as though to get a better look at Artemis.\n\n\"Hello. Books on Art you say? Not my preferred area of study, so I don't know the best books on the subject, but I've read a few in my time. Are you looking more for the history of art or more the theory behind art? Or perhaps a book on various techniques?\"" }, { "author": "mountainlionlover.com2448", "message": "Artemis was slightly caught off guard by this question. \"Er, various techniques, I'd say. Such as drawing techniques. Painting techniques would be nice too.\" She cocked her head. \"Are you a librarian?\" Artemis studied the books already in her hands. The titles reflected her hobbies. \"Indriks and Other Creatures: How to Tame Mythical Animals\", \"How to Ride an Indrik\", \"How to Draw Animals\", and \"Drawing Tips From The Pros\" Were in the stack of books she carried. She observed the stack of books the person in front of her carried. They were on such subjects as magical diseases and making enchanted items." }, { "author": "Damir Walch", "message": "He had a contemplative look on his face, and he put the book down, a book titled \"The Properties of Gold on the Weave.\" \"No I'm not a librarian, but I am a scholar. I have an extensive personal collection at my estate, but unfortunately it lacks the particular information I need, so here I am. As to your question on books, there are some right this way.\" \n\nHe stood up, and carrying the candle in it's holder, he led Artemis through the dark aisles to a shelf lined with various art books. He browsed the shelves, pulling off an older volume titled \"Bundles of Brushes, a comprehensive guide to paint.\"\n\n\"This one is a good book. A little dated, but very easy to read and full of useful tips. For a more skilled individual I would recommend this one instead,\" He pointed at a different book, \"But I must warn you that book is very advanced stuff.\"" } ]	136	675
249.333333	2022-01-16	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Damir Walch", "message": "\"Damir sat in a chair by a dim candle in an obscure corner of the library. The days were short in winter, but he was a creature of the night, and that was no excuse to waist the few extra hours given him. The library would surely close soon, and he was so close to discovering the art of creating the daylight rings. He just needed one more incantation before he could make his own attempts, although he doubted even with all his research his efforts would be successful at first, but such was life. He had gained much skill over the centuries, but the greatest gift he had learned was patience. Patience was his key to his centuries old plan. He waited 200 years to be where he is now, he could take his time to document his shortcomings and learn from them. But finally it was coming together.* \n\nThe candle was burning low. While he didn't need it to see, he preferred to maintain the illusion of being a regular elf. He stood up, putting a bookmark in the book but picking up the parchment containing his notes, folding them and putting them in his pocket. He walked over to the front desk, and exchanged a copper for another candle, with a polite nod to the person at the desk before turning to return to his books." }, { "author": "Faelyth Duskryn", "message": "Perched up on top of one of the many book shelves in the Willowdale library, a curious dark elf watched a man leaned over books under the light of a candle. Faelyth watched quietly from her perch as the man moved from his seat to the front desk then back again, causing her to tilt her head with curiosity. There was something different about him, but the dark elf simply couldn't put her finger on it. Faelyth was in Willowdale, searching for souls to join the Sisterhood, but her nosiness sometimes managed to get the better of her. While she couldn't tell exactly what he was reading, there was a shifty nature to the man, only leading Faelyth to want to know more. As quiet as a mouse, she lept from bookshelf to bookshelf before ending up directly above the man.\n\nFaelyth laid down along the top of the bookshelf, her head resting on her arm as she looked down toward the man below her. Her heterochromatic eyes dancing along him, if only to look for weapons or anything suspicious. Faelyth herself was dressed in all black with a mask over her mouth, though her hood was down for the time being, revealing her short silver hair and long pointed ears. It was obvious she was a dark elf, if her dark grey-blue skin didn't give it away immediately. Snaking a hand down the shelf, Faelyth knocked three times to get the man's attention.\n\n\"Doing some late night reading, hm?\"" }, { "author": "Damir Walch", "message": "He had heard her scuffling on the shelves, although payed no mind to it, assuming it was just a rodent in the rafters. But as he sat down in his chair he caught the sent. Smelled like an elf. He sniffed the air for a bit, but payed no mind to it. Another patron perhaps. Even so, he showed no sign of surprise when Faelyth knocked on the shelf.\n\n\"Yes, my day has been incredibly busy, so I'm taking a break from my day to day to do some light reading.\" The books he was reading were obviously not that light, so if this was light reading he was certainly an avid book reader. \"So what brings you here to the library, and your... Interesting choice of seating? Can't be that easy to see what book your grabbing from up there, so perhaps just browsing?\"" } ]	262	748
226	2022-01-17	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Faelyth Duskryn", "message": "Truth be told, Faelyth was a bit surprised that he had heard her. After all, it was her job to be silent. Perhaps he was a shapeshifter of some kind and could smell her rather than hear her? She knew many of them possessed enhanced senses, just like their animal counterpart. His question about what she was doing however caused a playful smile to appear beneath her mouth covering. \"Oh, I come here to read people, not books.\" Resting along the top of the bookshelf, something began to move beneath the dark elf's clothing. Up her side then down her sleeve, a beautiful blue and white snake poked its head out to peer at the man below, flicking its tongue curiously.\n\n\"Well, Zafeiri here seems to like you.\" Before her snake could slither down onto the man, Faelyth brought it back up and allowed her companion to slink back beneath her clothing. \"You don't seem to be here just doing some light reading, hm? Researching, perhaps?\" There was a playful tone to Faelyth's voice, but beneath it was an air of curiosity. Sure, the library was a great place to research, but this man just looked so- how could she describe it? Out of place, maybe?" }, { "author": "Damir Walch", "message": "He shrugged at her response to his question. Her being on the shelves did make sense in that context, even though it was still an odd choice. \"You must have quite the skill in remaining unseen. Should I try to do that and I'd no doubt get spotted and the people I was trying to study would have called me a freak. I have my own methods of observation.\" He had his own smile, barely visible, sly, but with a slightly unsettling feel about it. He put down the books before his next statement.\n\n\"My fellow scholars have often questioned me on my definition of light reading. Seems my definition of light reading has... Broadened over the centuries. Although I do tend to pick books reflecting current questions I have, so I guess you could call it research.\" He carefully chose his words, enjoying this intelligent conversation. They had been carefully probing and deflecting with their words, and Damir reveled in it. Like fencing, as one author put it." }, { "author": "Faelyth Duskryn", "message": "\"Ah well, it Is My job to be unseen after all.\" Faelyth snickered, her voice gently floating down to the man in a sinister tone. Tilting her head a bit, she studied the man further. \"Centuries, hm? Well, the longer you live the more time you have to broaden I suppose. I still have hundreds of years to live, yet here I am, choosing to watch people over text on a page.\" Faelyth sighed a bit, that playful tone of hers ever present. Slinking down the side of the shelf, the dark elf landed with no sound as her feet hit the floor of the library. She tilted her head once more his way, causing her silver hair to fall partially over her eyes, one yellow, the other blue.\n\n\"Well, what Are You reading about then? Don't tell me-\" Faelyth began to stride around the man, tapping her finger to her mask gently as she did so. \"Hm... A dark romance between two forbidden lovers? No, no, you don't seem the type. How about... How to life terrible curses?\" Leaning in toward his side, Faelyth giggled slightly, her voice lowering in a much more sinister tone. \"Have I hit the mark yet?\"" }, { "author": "Damir Walch", "message": "He chuckled a bit, nothing overly sinister about it. Just amusement. But even so you could tell there was something not quite right. \"Nothing that sinister. Just some books on the theory of magic items. I'm trying to develop a magic ring to help protect against individuals attempting to scry someone. Making new magic is unfortunately never easy, but it is oddly relaxing.\"\n\nHe started stroking his beard before looking at Fayleth. \"How about you? You need to stay unseen, so are you a thief? A spy? Or something more... What's the word... Unsavory for the average folk.\" His own smile mad it clear he at least has reasonable suspicion as to why someone would sit on top of a bookshelf all day. At the very least a thief, although she carried herself in a manner that implied... Darker behavior." } ]	231	904
284	2022-01-21	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Faelyth Duskryn", "message": "\"Everyone fears for their life at one point or another. I've only ever experienced someone wanting death a handful of times, most tend to scream, cry.. Beg.\" Faelyth shrugged a bit, a devilish and downright twisted look in her eyes, but she understood the man's words. It was obvious he was into the darker side of things and life, same as Faelyth. Tilting her head down his way, she began to rack her brain for what he was or what he did in his life. A murderer? Perhaps. Thievery seemed above him.. Perhaps a curse like lycanthropy or vampirism? There was something about him that drew Faelyth in, but she simply couldn't place what it was.\n\n\"What do I hold most dear?\" Faelyth smiled a bit at the question, as it truly wasn't something she thought about all too much. \"I don't have much to hold other than my life, but like you, I've accepted it should it end. I simply cannot afford to be afraid of death with what I do for work. Sure I look for souls to join Our Cause, but we have plenty as it is.\" Faelyth shrugged once more, though when he spoke once more, the dark elf raised an eyebrow curiously. \"Sounds like paradise. Couldn't you just get that when you one day pass and recieve your final judgement from Viviana? Caelum is paradise for those of pure hearts, you know.\" Faelyth mocked the idea of course, made apparent by the way she spoke about the afterlife, Goddess of Life and heaven, Caelum.\n\n\"Bunch of crap if you ask me. Caelum is for the holier than thou aasimar, but the rest of us? To Infernum with us. I'd much rather hang with Ygdramen, woudln't you?\" The way Faelyth spoke so informally about the gods was a bit strange, almost as if Ygdramen was an old friend, and Viviana wasn't." }, { "author": "Damir Walch", "message": "He chuckled as the conversation shifted from each other to the afterlife. \"I don't believe all the afterlife rubbish myself. Everyone has their own morals, their own view of right and wrong. Everyone is good in their own minds. What some find unacceptable is completely normal for others. So who is right in the end? The overly zealous servant of the gods, or the person who was doing what they believed was good and alright the entire time? The idea that the Gods say who is good and who is evil, regardless of context and personal upbringing, and their own moral code, is preposterous. Either the Gods have no power or they are massive hypocrites.\" He chuckled, clearly finding the idea of the gods preposterous. Who said that they make the rules, why should life subject themselves to their rule, when they were nothing but arbitrary hypocrites?\n\n\"I probably will go to Infernum just for saying that, but to be honest only proves my point. I believe it to be true, so they would be punishing truth right? I honestly couldn't care less about the Gods.\" He leaned back in his chair, chuckling and smiling, his deep red eyes shining in the dim candlelight. To Infernum with the Gods he seemed to say." }, { "author": "Faelyth Duskryn", "message": "\"Oh, but how quickly people will change if it means their life is in the balance. If you've never seen a righteous man plead for his life by swearing fealty to a god he believes is evil, oh.\" Faelyth closed her eyes, giggling to herself at the thought. \"While I do believe the gods exist, there's only one who I choose to spend time pledging myself to, and I'm sure I don't need to tell you who that is, dear friend.\" Tilting her head, Faelyth rolled onto her back, allowing her neck and head to hang upside down against the bookshelf as she peered down over the elf. He was a curious being, and if the Sisterhood allowed men, she'd recruit him if she could manage to.\n\nTwisting back onto her stomach, the dark elf rested her chin onto her hand, her feet up and kicking slow and gently, almost like a child. Faelyth was a strange one, there was no doubt about it. \"So, since we're telling each other all our dirty secrets-\" Faelyth's eyes seemed to shimmer with curiosity as they met the elf's, a smile forming and visible even under her mouth covering. \"-what are you Really Here researching?\"" }, { "author": "Damir Walch", "message": "\"Exactly my point. What power do the Gods have judging people's lives. Either they are powerless, with people themselves choosing their morals, or they are hypocrites, condemning actions that some view as good just because it is the slightest moral grey from an outsider's perspective. And then there are people with conflicting morals. Why do they get to decide who's right and wrong? Am I right?\"\n\nHe thought for a few seconds, rubbing his chin. His lips curled into a sneering grin, something still off about it. \"The dark secret isn't what I'm researching,\" He sneers, chuckling menacingly, \"But why I'm researching it. Are you sure you want to know? It might be a bit much, even to a hardened assassin such as yourself. And I don't want you blabbing off about it. You don't seem that type, but you haven't exactly been trustworthy either.\"" } ]	259.5	1,136
367.272727	2024-02-04	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Bjorn Ursa", "message": "The Goliath had enjoyed travelling aboard the ship they claimed from Kip. It was quiet, picturesque, calming. He enjoyed the water more than he would have expected and frequently dipped in its salty abyss when he could. His wounds from his last fight had all but fully healed, making him feel more comfortable with departing from the vessel. He had grabbed books, gold to carry on his own and his crude axe which he hoped to swap for one more suited to a man of his size. All in all, he was prepped.\n\nFrom looking at the map, he would assume this was close to a place called Khisfire... He knew not of this place - the world being still a foreign plane to him and he still an infant to the world around him. He stood out like a sore thumb at their impromptu 'docking'. Draped in his furs and tunic and belt, he was fit for adventure. He was, however anxious. Anxious that the town of Willowdale would be too much for his anxious mind and soul. However, he knew the further from ~~'home'~~ the Pits he got, the better off he would be. Orcs here wouldn't recognise him as a champion of blood and sand... At least he hoped.\n\nLooking down to his small companion, dressed and tightly packed to explore, he gave a solem nod and a grunt as his familiar flew down to sit upon her shoulder. Shrike had taken a liking to Ves, he was pleased for that much since he trusted the bird so implicitly... He had never steered him wrong before, he surely wouldn't now. Besides with Ves by his side, nothing could go wrong!...At least he hoped.\n\nRage bubbled under the surface - a dark urge to mutilate and glory himself in the bathing of blood. He suppressed his shaking hands and bit into the insides of his mouth for comfort. He knew he had to push on. He must, lest he be alone in the world and prey to Gods know what. He coukd handle an outnumbered fight, but could he handle isolation once more? He pushed the thought to the back of his mind as he gave Ves a small smile, speaking in his gruff voice that was\n\nStill new to himself. \"Ready as I'll ever be.\"\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Ves", "message": "Ves scratched Shrike's head affectionately as the bird landed on her shoulder. She liked the familiar. He brought her comfort and joy and she felt even more protected when he was around. With Björn and Shrike at her side she felt safe.\n\nShe was also worried however. She remembered how Björn had reacted to the crowds and noise of Broughton. And judging by the map, Willowdale appeared to be an even larger city. Would he be able to manage? Could he stay calm? She hoped so. She didn't know what would happen if he lost it. She wasn't confident in her abilities to draw him from an enraged state.\n\n\"Okay then... Let's go,\" She said with determination in her voice. She began leading the way up the beach and towards Willowdale. They walked for some time and the buildings began to get closer and closer together as they traveled deeper and deeper into the city. Ves wasn't really sure what they were after. She knew she wanted more clothes and a fresh hot meal. The Kobold wasn't sure what else they needed. Kip's ship had kept them well provided for.\n\nThe noise began to increase as they got closer to the marketplace. People surrounded them, though most gave them a decent amount of space. The Goliath and Kobold weren't exactly common folk here. They drew a fair number of stares, though nobody attempted to stop them. \n\n\"I'd like to buy a few more outfits, so be on the lookout for any stalls with clothes that might fit me,\" Ves said idly as she looked around. She felt a certain excitement and anxiety being in a new place. What would this city bring? More trouble? Or perhaps something a little more positive. Ves didn't want to run into another Kip, but she was still open to meeting new people. \n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Bjorn Ursa", "message": "Björn walked alongside her as they approached Willowdale. It was huge compared to their last few stops! The city was loud... But he was prepared this time. Infact, it seemed to not be as noisy as the first town they came across. Perhaps this time would be different. Perhaps this time, they find adventure and new friends instead of foes.\n\nHe nervously scanned the building walls for any sign of his visage - and was left wanting. There was no wanted posters here, no signs of the Orcs from the Pits, nothing but a myriad of people he had never seen before. Half-Elves of varying kinds, the rare reptilian, shapeshifters and small bearded men. He was suprised at the diversity, so many skin colours... It made him feel less naked for having such pale stone skin.\n\nThe Goliath kept a calm expression to not show aggression (or anything that could be mistook for it). He didn't want to catch the ire of guards or some bigot if he could. He clicked his tongue as Shrike bobbed his head and flew into the sky, getting a better view of the place from his avarian advantage. \"I'll keep my eye peeled.\" He responded as he looked around.\n\nHe came across some stalls showcasing fabrics he had never seen before, in hues that he didn't know existed. He smelt mouthwatering treats - smoked sausage, tasty pastries and more delights. His ears heard a cacophony of sound from the idle hustle and bustle to the manic calls of marketeers drawing crowds to their wares. There was something about it that made him feel pleasant. What had changed since Broughton?\n\n\"I think trying the local food is a good idea. Maybe... Maybe we can find a local guide or someone who knows this place. You know the words to look for but only I can read them. We, are alone here. We should seek allies sympathetic to our cause.\" \n\nIt was clear Björn had been secretly reading books in his downtime aboard the ship - since he used more vocabulary than before... An odd look for such a brutish form. It brought one to wonder if he\n\nKnew what he was saying.\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Ves", "message": "Ves hadn't noticed Björn's change in vocabulary, mostly because it had been a gradual thing and she was accustomed to hearing him speak. Anyone else may have been shocked to hear it. Ves did note that he seemed to be taking to the city quite well. He didn't seem skittish or overwhelmed like before. Good, She thought to herself, feeling proud of the Goliath. He had already come a long way from where he had started.\n\n\"Food, yes,\" She agreed wholeheartedly. She enjoyed eating and she enjoyed trying new things. It would be a wonderful combination. But before she got her fingers greasy, she wanted to find something new to wear. She was drawn to a market stall that boasted various types and colors of fabrics. There appeared to be a section of clothing designed to fit the smaller races. Or perhaps they were simply children's clothes. Either way, it would suit Ves' needs perfectly.\n\nNearby a small band of bards on a small stage began to play a jaunty tune. Some people in the crowd cheered as others began to dance. Ves found herself enchanted by the music and the movements of the people. Everyone seemed happy here. There was laughter and smiling everywhere. No one was glaring or sneering at them. It felt... Safe.\n\n\"I'm going to find a few new outfits,\" She said as she lifted her eyes to Björn. \"Did you want to get anything? I think blue would look very good on you.\" She smiled warmly, reaching out to place a swatch of deep blue silk fabric against his pale arm. \"We could buy something befitting a sailor, since that's what we are now. Though I don't exactly know what that would be...\"\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Bjorn Ursa", "message": "Björn was entranced. He watched the smaller humanoid races dancing and clapping along to the music. He had heard tunes from Kip but not at this level. No one seemed creepy or as a schemer... Just happy living beings. He watched them dance with a yearning. How did they know to swing their arms like that? To jump and hop in circles and clap on time. He felt the swatch against his arm but was more focused on the festivities.\n\nIt started with his foot... He haphazardly tapped a rhythm under the beat of the melody, out of time... Misplaced. Then he slowly tuned in. The Goliath felt a connection to the rhythms he felt... As if he was feeling the very stones beneath his feet encourage him. It rose up his leg, as he began to lift and plant his foot in time to the beat of the drums. The drums were pounding, almost overwhelming. He knew they were not like the drums of battle. They were different... He liked the drums.\n\nSoon enough, the thump thump thumping of his heart was in tune with the music. A calming mix of relief and joy spread across his face like a child watching a magic show. It filled him with childlike wonder and youth that he hadn't seen in years... In that very moment, Björn felt a fragment of his forgotten past in those drums and in the movement of the people. Before Ves knew it, Björn had already wandered off into the crowd, his large stoney head visible above the gathering groups.\n\nHe watched as the groups danced and began to clap his hands slowly, before picking up speed to match the drums. Soon a few others, who had looked at him funny a moment prior, began to clap along to the dancing and the music too. He wanted to join in their movement, he wanted to hop and spin too!\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Ves", "message": "\"Björn?\" She asked, but he wasn't paying attention to her. He was enthralled by the music. Ves watched as he drifted away into the crowd. She couldn't help but smile as he began to clap his hands in rhythm. She felt her heart swell with joy for her lover. She was pleased by his happiness. She wanted him to dance and laugh and smile. She wanted him to be filled with life. That's what freedom was all about.\n\nShe was too shy to join in the dancing however, so Ves moved further into the stall to have a better look at the clothing for sale. Some of the smaller outfits were definitely for children, but with some small alterations they would be suitable. On occasion Ves would glance out at Björn, making sure he was still enjoying himself. \n\nThe Kobold really wasn't sure what she wanted to buy. She at least wanted an extra set of clean clothes to change into after bathing. A bath... Now That Sounded nice. They would have to find a bathhouse. Surely a city of this size would have one. And maybe this time they wouldn't be interrupted by rude Dwarves. Her tail flicked as she finally decided on the clothes she wanted. The merchant wrapped the fabrics up and she tucked them safely away into her satchel. After paying the man (still having no real clue what anything was worth), she turned back to check on Björn. \n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Bjorn Ursa", "message": "Björn was fully engrossed with the crowd and enjoying himself thoroughly! He wanted to join in with everyone else but was too nervous, not knowing how to dance. Just as he was satisfied with the experience, people begin to pool into the dancing - sweeping Björn in with them!\n\nHe was shit scared of what was to come. He didn't know how to do what they did. But then... As he was stood there in fear, he noticed others were just moving their bodies randomly. What he believed to be just fully orchestrated movement was just people having fun and dancing with each other. A small girl began to dance around him randomly, skipping to and fro. Something in that child reminded him of someone...\n\nAnd then he began to dance. It started with just tapping his feet as he watched the girl dance around him like he was a large humanoid maypole, but then he began to dance with her. Taking his large hands in hers and bending down to dance around however she saw fit.\n\nShe practically dragged him around the square in a bundle of energy as people cheered and laughed... They didn't laugh at him though, this was different. Instead people looked at him with joy and familiarity. Perhaps this was what people meant all along - perhaps this was how he enjoyed freedom. Dancing in squares with strangers.\n\nHe began to laugh quietly, then heartily, whooping and hollering with the other dancers as he began to lose himself in the moment. For that brief period of time, dancing with that fearless yet small child, the rage subsided.\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Ves", "message": "From her vantage point, the commotion was concerning. Ves couldn't see Björn very well anymore. There was too much movement, too much swaying of the crowds. The stomping of feet and clapping of hands became overwhelming and she froze up. She felt a brief moment of panic, like a jolt of electricity up her spine. Then she got control of herself again. She reminded herself that this was just a party of some sort and Björn wasn't in any danger. It was all in good fun. No one meant them any harm here.\n\nShe thanked the shopkeeper and began moving around the edge of the crowd. She muttered excuses and apologies as she maneuvered herself through the people. It was relatively easy, given her small size and stealthiness. She was quick and light on her feet, somehow always managing to keep her tail from hitting someone's legs as she ran past. She glimpsed Björn through the crowd and grinned. He was dancing! \n\nSatisfied that he was still safe and having fun, Ves slipped to the back of the crowds, where it thinned out to the stragglers and wallflowers. The Kobold found a nearby wall to lean against, resting in the shade of the building. She took a drink from her waterskin and wiggled her toes. It was a good day. She wasn't entirely sure what they were celebrating, but she liked it all the same. If it made Björn feel like That, she liked it very much. \n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Marghulis", "message": "He walked through the roads of Willowdale, seeing the festivities all around him. It was calming, seeing the people happy and joyful, to not cower in fear at the Dasvaz threat in the west. He was here in the city, due to a sighting of a goliath and a kobold in the city, he wanted to check it out and see if they were a threat.\n\nHe was openly walking around in his armor, his helmet currently off as he was walking around trying to find the two that were here. There was a chance that they were Dasvaz spies to gather information on the city. The people walking opposite of him moved away from the armored orc, his rather intimidating and grim appearance contrasting with the vibrant atmosphere.\n\nAfter a couple minutes of walking, he was finally able to find the two aforementioned individuals. A large goliath with a smaller kobold, the two seemed close, and they looked happy at everything around them. A trick it maybe, but he wouldn't benefit in being hot-headed, he was in an Alynthian City, the law was powerful, and he knew what would happen if he were to try and do something here.\n\nHe began slowly making his way towards them, wanting to know their intentions within the city. He didn't have much trust of anything that comes out of Dasvaz, but even if he wanted to do something, he wouldn't be able to with the law protecting them right now." }, { "author": "Bjorn Ursa", "message": "The song finished as the crowd applauded the bards, and thus applauded the dancing civilians. The little girl curtsied to Björn and, not knowing what to do in return did a shaky mimic of the movement, a smile plastered on his scarred face. The parents of the young girl came over and began to converse with Björn too, asking questions about him and his intentions in the city. He politely responded with the story that Ves and He made for such a situation which they seemed to take as gospel. The people here were trusting... He liked that a lot.\n\nAs the young girl waved farewell to the brute and the crowd dispersed, he noticed Ves and went over to her, leaning in the shade and taking a swig of her waterskin. He didn't ask to do so, simply because all they had they would share. \"Ves, you should have seen it! The music, the moving, they spun in circles and didn't get dizzy! It was-was amazing!\" He was smiling and pleased before realising he left her alone - unprotected. He cleared his throat and steeled himself. \"I forgot about your safety Ves. Forgive me.\" He bowed his head solemly.\n\nBjörn's oath to protect Ves was bound by his honor as a Goliath. He knew he was strong enough, but he had to be perceptive and that was hard enough with both eyes let alone one! He looked around the crowded square for a moment, settling his eyes on food, but also danger. \"Ves.\" He muttered. \"I see an Orc in armor.\" His words were stern and rough. He didn't trust Orcs. He hated Orcs. Orcs made his blood boil. Orcs killed Solaire.\n\n\"We should move to a crowded area where we will be safe... A food stall or a store of some kind. Maybe we can avoid being apprehended there.\" He grunted as Shrike flew down to his arm and perched himself once more before hopping over to Ves, maintaining his everlasting vigil.\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Ves", "message": "Ves laughed along with Björn, her eyes crinkling in delight. \"I did!\" She giggled happily. \"I saw it all! But you, Björn, you Experienced It! You were far braver than me!\"\n\nAt his change in demeanor, Ves shook her head a little. \"No, Björn...\" She began, but he was solemn and serious once more. Ves ached to see that smile again. She reached out for him, but paused at his words. They sent a shiver of terror down her spine. She tried not to turn around and give themselves away. \n\nBjörn was ahead of her already, planning routes of escape and avoidance. Ves tried to think fast, but her fear of the Orcs made her slow to react. The most basic of Ves' instincts took hold: fight or flight. And she was Kobold. She should run away. That was what her kind were famous for: being cowards. Did that include Ves?\n\nShe gritted her teeth together and exhaled slowly, her ears flattening against her skull. She turned to face the approaching Orc, speaking quietly to Björn. \"No. Look, he's alone. He isn't leading anyone. We'll be okay. Just remember what we discussed on the boat.\" And even though she spoke boldly, her tail quivered ever-so-slightly... A signal of fear that only Björn would recognize. \n\n\|\|" } ]	359	4,040
333	2024-02-05	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Marghulis", "message": "When Vas steeled herself to face Marghulis, he was only a few meters away from them. His frame, while smaller than the Goliath, was still larger than most of the humans around him. The armor, while it was clean of dirt and grim, had the signs of being in service for years now. With small, but noticable pieces being ripped from battles with large beasts and enemies.\n\nHis armor told a story, one of a warrior, and if they looked at one of his shoulder plates, it held a small sigil of the Alynthian Flag, while this would have led to the conclusion of him being a soldier. And the two have seen how well Alynthian soldiers kept their armor. Which meant that either he was a former soldier, or someone that stole armor and just placed the symbol there, though.\n\nBut a fighter like Bjorn would be able to tell that this was the stride of a former soldier, the air of caution, disciplined march-like gait of Marghulis denotes this. The only question now was, why was he making his way here, as he seemed rather focused on the two of them. And that had its own thought, what if the orc making his way towards them is a former soldier, and the latest war was the one between Alynthi and Dasvaz, many grievances were made at the time. So, was he here for vengeance, or just to attack them.\n\n\|" }, { "author": "Bjorn Ursa", "message": "He watched the impressively large Orc approach, he had the walk of a guard of the Pits. His armor was damaged, maybe he had fought beasts like Björn had. While Björn wore no armor, only tunic and fur, his skin was rough as rock and twice as honed. He didn't reach for his axe however, clearly a crude large axe of Dazvaz design. However his garb did not scream a local of the area, neither did Ves'.\n\nThe Goliath glanced around, he was clearly making a line for them both. He was accompanied by no one and walked with no sense of urgency. This was some kind of warrior. He head heard some Orcs become Soldiers from books and word of mouth. Perhaps he was one. Perhaps he was a cowards in a mail of false valor...\n\nHe walked with a march, like his legs could only move so far. Why was that? Did he stop his natural stride, or could the armor only allow him to walk as much? It mattered not. Confrontation was necessary here. Björn steeled himself, screwing a mental lid on the fit of rage he wished to unload and slowly placed a hand on Ves for but a moment, a moment of reassurance. He didn't recognise the crest of his armor, but surely it wasn't from Dazvaz, he had seen that too many times. Perhaps he wore foreign garb to fit in better, to trick them, to take Ves away... He kept his mind blank and focused on the facts: A large Orc with armored mail was approaching them and there was no form of viable escape. Björn stood his ground without making a stance of violence, simply waiting. He had played this game before.\n\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Ves", "message": "Ves was surrounded by giants. As the Orc approached he began to Loom And Ves resisted the instinct to step backwards. Instead she held her position, standing still and silent. The tip of her tail flicked back and forth. The Orc was close enough now to be heard - so why didn't he say anything? Well Ves wasn't going to break the silence. He had interrupted them, after all. Let him be the first to speak. \n\nShe was tempted to just ignore him. He didn't strike her as an authority figure of any kind. He wore armor and marched like a soldier, but no one was following him. He had nobody to command. So why was he coming to bother them? And how had he known to seek them out? Unless this was to be some kind of trap. Ves' eyes scanned the rest of the square, but she couldn't see anyone else lingering in the shadows. The Orc seemed to be alone.\n \nVes hated Orcs. They were nothing but trouble. She had seen far too many carry out their nasty dealings. The ones back at the mines were indiscriminate when it came to whipping both their slaves and the free Kobold who worked beside them. So she had always avoided them when given the choice. It never occurred to her that an Orc could mean no harm. As far as she knew they were all brutes with an appetite for violence. Why would this one be any different?\n\nVes remained quiet and still, simply waiting for the stranger to make his business be known. Hopefully he didn't take too long. They had things to do.\n\n\|\|" } ]	329	999
341.333333	2024-02-06	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Marghulis", "message": "He finally reached the two and stood just in front of them, his eyes filled with suspicion and anger at the two, before he breathed in, hiding away his anger for the moment, no matter how much he wanted to just draw his weapons and attack them right then and there. But he stood there, keeping a hold of himself, as he readied himself to say something he never expected.\n\n*\".... Welcome to Willowdale. I shall be your... Guide for the day.\"* He said that with great reluctance in his voice. Yes, he did hear about the two being sighted, but that came from a friend of his, who worked as a captain in the city guard, who asked him to tour the two, while also keeping an eye on them. *\"I am Marghulis,and for today, and for however long you shall be staying here, I will be guiding you.\"\n\nTo say such words to creatures that came from Dasvaz, it hurt him, to allow them free reign in an Alynthian City, to allow them to gather information and whatnot. But he had no choice, this was a payment to a debt to said friend of his. It was only his bad luck that cursed him to have been near and his own caution to see the two Dasvaz, that led to this situation." }, { "author": "Bjorn Ursa", "message": "Björn knew that look. A killer's glare. He didn't like it one bit. He saw it in the Pits and he saw it just then. But the anger in this Orc subsided... Why? Björn was not one to be cautious but this time round, something made him hold his tongue.\n\"Strange, we didn't know there was a guide section of the guard... Nor did we say we needed a guide.\" Björn looked down and eyed him with a hint of suspicion.\n\nDeciding to not act out, he instead gave a small nod.* \"I am Ursa Majora. If you are to be our guide, so be it. What is the price of the tour, Marghulis?\" He managed to pronounce the Orc's name pretty well, only further cementing he had been around many Orcs in his own past. A tell, if this one was more perceptive than his kin.\n\n\"This is my Partner. We are here for the first time belive it or not. Our boat docked nearby so we thought we'd explore before finding market. Hence, our coming here.\" He had replayed this backstory in his head a hundred times by now. Even if it was half-true, Björn wanted to be convincing. He would not allow some pigheaded Orc to take Ves from him. He was charitable to Kip, look where that got them.\n\nThe various scars on his stony skin along with his furs made him seem savage, primal, yet he spoke with some knowledgeable vocabulary through his gruff Scot voice. If he was to be a fisherman, he must have tangled with vicious beasts to be that decorated.\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Ves", "message": "Ves scoffed. A guide? They didn't need, or Want, a guide. Who did this Orc think he was? Nobody else seemed to have a problem with her or Björn. The people here seemed relatively peaceful Curious, perhaps, but not hostile. So who had sent this Orc after them to act as a Guide? \n\nBjörn maintained his composure. His confidence made Ves relax a little. She let him do the talking, nodding along in agreement. Her tail flicked to and fro behind her as she considered their options. She didn't want to cause trouble, but Ves didn't want a babysitter during their stay in Willowdale. She wanted freedom. That was the whole point. \n\n\"Yes, well, the next stop I was wanting to make was to one of the public bathhouses. Surely a city as nice as this one has a bathhouse we can use. I'm tired from sailing and I want to change clothes.\" She looked at Björn with a warm smile, her eyes softening as she met his gaze. \"If that's okay with you, I mean.\"\n\nThen she looked back to Marghulis and her eyes went hard again. \"I'd prefer a bathhouse with the male and female sides separated. I like my privacy when bathing. You understand,\" She said with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. And what would the Orc do? Follow her into the tub? Or would he trail after Björn? It would be strange either way. \n\nAlthough maybe it wasn't such a good idea to separate with the Orc around. Ves frowned as the thought occurred to her. She was just out-of-sorts in the presence of her most feared and hated enemy. The Kobold sighed gently. Well, it was too late to take it back now. And she Did Want a bath. They would just see where it took them.\n\n\|\|" } ]	352	1,024
373.8	2024-02-11	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Bjorn Ursa", "message": "\"What war?\" His curiosity was genuine. One can tell a lie from Björn pretty well since he isn't used to making things up but this, this was truth. \"And the people have been fine with me. I've been dancing with children and men and women in the streets, listening to good music and enjoying the sun on my skin. What kind of person do you take me for, Marghulis?\" His nostrils flared in annoyance but soon calmed himself, seeing the small child he had danced with before smile and wave at him. He gave a smile back and returned her wave in kind.\n\nChildren are true judges of character, Björn thought. They know not of wars, of prejudice, of race, sex or creed. They see someone truly for who they show themselves as. Björn tried to show himself as a man who wants no trouble. He saw how some people bowed as they passed, showing this Orc was someone recognisable. He made note of their bows to try in private.\n\n\"And you speak of a festival? What is a festival? Is that the dancing and music? Because that does bring joy. All we are doing is trying to enjoy this place for what it is, not be hounded upon for some reason unknown to us.\" He placed a hand on Ves' shoulder for reassurance and looked down to her. She was vital to him, a core part of the human experience. He needed her by his side, so going into a bathhouse would isolate them both for an unknown amount of time. Time where Ves won't have his protection, and where he would not have her clever plans... He tried not to show it, but he was worried.\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Ves", "message": "Her tail flicked back and forth as she followed their \"Guide\" Through the city streets. It didn't escape her notice how people reacted, but Ves thought the sight of an Orc was more terrifying than a wayward Kobold. Which brought up a good point. \n\n\"What is an Orc doing beyond Dasvaz anyway?\" She asked innocently. Was she Trying To pick a fight? It wasn't wise, but Ves was feeling reckless and feisty. She didn't like being judged because of her race - even though she was doing the exact same thing to Marghulis. They hadn't done anything wrong and they were being treated like criminals. It was frustrating. \n\nShe wondered how they could manage to leave the Orc behind. She looked around as though searching for a sign for the bathhouse. She didn't know how to read, but Marghulis didn't know that. Her amber eyes sought out escape routes, her mind calculating various risks. She met a child's curious gaze and couldn't help but smile a little, softening as she waved. The little girl curtsied and Ves couldn't help but do the same. Chuckling lightly, she turned back to continue walking.\n\nShe looked up at Björn and smiled as he put a comforting hand on her shoulder. She knew why the Orc was bothering them, but decided to let Marghulis answer in his own words. Let the Orc scramble for a polite way of explaining his racism. None of the people seemed frightened or angered by their presence. It was only this Orc.\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Marghulis", "message": "*\"I take you as what you might be. A spy from Dasvaz seeking to cause discord and strife in the city, trying to find a way to bring more of your barbarian friends into this good land. And don't gullible Goliath, we both know what war I'm talking about.\"* If the Goliath was trying to play dumb, then he was doing a terrible job at it, even a blind man could see the lie from the Goliath, which now put him in a more suspicious light to Marghulis.\n\nHe nodded to a passing guard, who nodded back. There were a few guards sprinkled around the area, ready to act if the two Dasvazi were to act up. There were only a few of them, but it was enough to at least keep track of where they are. And if needs be, put them down. He then looked at the children passing by, thinking back to his wife, and thinking. What if she was still alive today, would they have had children by now.\n\nHe then heard the kobold's voice Pierce through the pleasant sounds of the festival, she asked him of his own presence in the land, believing that he was also from Dasvaz, he flared his nose once she finished that sentence. To insinuate that he was a barbarian from a land of bone and stone wielding savages, with no civility, honor or even morality. *\"And what makes you believe that I'm from Dasvaz. What makes you think that I'm from a land of beasts, savages and slavers!\"\n\nHe said the last part growling, not loud enough to scare the children, but enough for the both of them to hear the anger in his own voice. He kept walking while saying that, gesturing for both them and the guards to stay close in case of any incidents that might happen. He wasn't going to take a chance with these things, especially after the Kobold's words." }, { "author": "Bjorn Ursa", "message": "Björn immediately placed a hand in front of Ves to stop her walking and slowly approached Marghulis. He was trying to keep calm but not when his partner was threatened. He gave him a cold glare while he approached him.* \"Listen to me. On Lumnar's holy name I tell you I know not of any war you speak of. I will cut the act and be plain with you. My name is Björn Majora and I am an escaped slave from Dazvaz. I want nothing and I mean Nothing To do with that place nor the savagery that comes from it. Want proof? Take me to the bathhouse and I'll show you the brand they placed on me when I was but a boy. I know of no war because I was kept in a cage while it probably happened.\" He snarled a bit as he finished his sentence, his Venom unclear if it was towards Marghulis, the thought of being associated with his slavers, the country or all three points.\n\n\"What makes us think that of you? We don't have a good track record with Orcs. Want to prove us wrong by showing us some damn humanity?\" His eyes told the truth, he was speaking it fully. His voice was quiet enough to not be heard by immediate people nearby, making this conversation more intimate between the Goliath and the Orc. He looked down at Marghulis with a look of anger and frustration. \n\n\"Want to accuse me of being a spy, take me to the head of the guard and I'll show my proof there too. But not in front of these kind people and their children, who have shown me more kindness in ten minutes than I've seen in decades.\" Björn took a deep breath, closing his eyes and counting to three in his head. When he opened his eyes he adjusted his demeanor. \"If you care for this place, like you show you do, let us sit and speak in private. I will tell you my tale in wholehearted honesty but please, do not associate me or Ves with Dazvaz.\"\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Ves", "message": "Ves was about the speak, to deny being from Dasvaz at all, to claim she was born on Alynthi soil, same as the Orc. He couldn't prove otherwise. She could say she was from the moon and it probably wouldn't matter. Marghulis assumed she was from Dasvaz based on the fact that she was a Kobold. Just as she thought he must surely be from the same place since he was an Orc.\n\nBut Björn beat her to it. As he began to spill his story, her eyes widened in dismay and panic. \"Björn!\" She tried to stop him, but he continued despite her protests. Her tail flicked about in agitation as she shifted her weight from foot to foot. Were there suddenly more guards around?\n\nOnce he was finished, Ves grabbed his hand tightly. That had been incredibly stupid and she was incredibly nervous. She braced herself to run. Would they be able to escape? Ves counted the guards she could see. Björn Might Be able to fight his way out if more guards didn't respond quickly. She was decently confident in her own ability to outrun them, but she wouldn't leave Björn behind. \n\nThis nice day out was turning sour rather quickly. She grit her teeth as she looked up at Marghulis, refusing to show her fear. \"You judge us as being from Dasvaz, as surely as others assume the same of you. Yet when accused as such, you spit vitriol in my face. How? How can you judge us based on our race and a guess as to where we're from, when you're judged just as harshly?\"\n\n\|\|" } ]	351	1,869
485.833333	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Princess Irezora Qinrel", "message": "The Princess Irezora Qinrel flexed the arches of her feet, rolling onto toes quickly becoming sore from the repeated action. As another moment passed she fiddled once more with the line of objects arranged neatly atop a table. First, a plain band of iridescent metal dulled to a grey while dormant. The ring rested atop a small sheet of paper with curled lettering scrawled across its surface. Second, a folio stuffed with papers sporting a diagrams and scripts from the same hand. Last an envelope addressed to no one. \n\nThe archives had been the only place she'd considered safe enough for such a discussion short of invited herself into the King's personal study. Though the location was slightly more open, a series of inscribed coins placed strategically around the area provided some level of privacy from listening ears and preying eyes. That said, the nervous energy flowing through the princess more closely related to the reaction of the intended recipient of her words, not any others who might learn by accident." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "What, he wondered, were the coins about? As he approached the archives, where he had been told to meet the princess, he tried to puzzle it out - they were placed at what he could see were regular intervals, but he knew not whether they were visible to the naked eye, whether they showed in anything other than his mind's grasp, or whether this was some hidden message from the visiting woman. He could always ask her, he chided himself, instead of trying to work it out by himself. But lately, the chill of a hostile world had seeped into his mind a little too often, and he did not trust entirely the words of his allies. \n\nEverything had to be checked, everything verified. It was the only way to know they were with you.\n\nAs he pushed open the doors to the quiet archives and strode into the room, sabatons clanking as they met the stone of the floor. His eyes alit on the bookish princess, whose position was surrounded by the coins, and whose missive had brought him here. She had been a guest of Alora's for some time, he knew, and an intelligent woman. What could she have for him now?\n\n\"Princess.\" He greeted her, eyebrow raised in apprehension. \"What purpose have you asked me here for? And, if you do not mind my asking, what is the function of that coin arrangement of yours?\"" }, { "author": "Princess Irezora Qinrel", "message": "The King of Alynthi never had tread lightly, so to speak. Even before he's entered the archival room, his footsteps could be heard as they moved with purpose towards whatever task next required their master's attention. The subconscious fiddling of fingers along the pleats of her skirt were enough reminder that she'd asked for the time of a very busy and important man. \n\nShe had never been one to present as skittish or nervous, in fact, generally the opposite was true. Almost a hundred years of practice entertaining and conversing tended to break such habits at their source. However, how could the second daughter of a small kingdom feel anything but in the face of the King of their greatest ally. \n\nAn ally, yes She reminded herself. That was the purpose of her summons, the reason for the odd display of items and nervous flexing of her feet. As the door swung open, her spine straightened instantly and her hands found their way to the folds of her skirt. Immediately she pulled the fabric upward slightly, lowering her knee and head. \"Your Majesty.\" A quick dip of her chin later and she righted herself once more, hands finding their was to clasp one another behind her back. \"Thank you for meeting me here. The coins, yes. Right. Though I have no doubt in the security of your castle nor reason to believe that any in your employ would ever take cause to betray you I find myself looking for snakes in the shadows and demons at the dinner table.\" \n\nUp until this point she has managed quite naturally to maintain an averted gaze, eyes focused anywhere but the King's face. Much longer, though, and such avoidance might be perceived as rude or worse, suspicious. Already the circumstances may be dubious enough if she did not hurry and explain. Despite the long standing alliance of their kingdoms, Astalios could not be faulted a fear of attempted assassination at every corner. Then again, she posed little threat against the likes of him. She did not Fear The man. There wa\n\nS no reason to believe that any harm would come to her while in his presence. She feared For The King. \n\nBreath held in her lungs, she fixed her eyes on the general form of is face, not focusing too closely on any details. She'd put thought into the choice of her warding materials, coins instead of stones, so that her desire for transparency would be clear. \"They create a space safe from listening ears, Your Majesty. In fact,\" She began turning toward the table, \"That Is my purpose in asking you here.\" Her fingers plucked the ring from the table before turning back to face him once more. \n\nImages of a molten crown and scalded flesh pushed themselves to the forefront of her mind. A man broken with tears and metal in his eyes surrounded by fallen allies kneels below a sky of fire. She inhaled through her nose, clearing the images lasting just moments before continuing, gaze focused just above the man's head this time. \"You better than most understand the gravity of the meeting yet to unfold on these grounds. I fear the intentions of all may not keep the best interest of most in mind. Your Majesty I love my Kingdom as I know you do yours and I wish to do my part in ensuring the safety and prosperity of our allied states.\" \n\nShe stepped to the side after depositing the ring back on its paper, turning so that the table and its objects were plainly in view. \"These are a few resources that I hope may prove useful in the next few days.\" Her lips pressed together as she allowed the King a moment to process." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "\"Your Highness.\" She seemed oddly nervous, he thought - a curtsy was normal fare, but there was something in her voice, the way her eyes avoided his face, that made things seem slightly strange. As with all strangeness, the first good move was to assure that it was not harmful, and Astalios closed his eyes for a moment to reach out with his senses, trying to detect any hidden people in the archives. If there were any, he knew they would likely be prepared, but it gave him some sense of security to at least check. He found none, however. No sets of silver buttons, no golden bracelets or small tacks in boots. \n\nHe opened them again, listened to the explanation of the coins. She was nervous, clearly. A small thought occurred to him - with the sound-dampening effect of the spell, it would have been the perfect opportunity to quietly assassinate him with a sleeping spell or some other enchantment to put him to sleep, and then a quick stone dagger or lance of magic to his throat. But this was a princess of an allied nation, the friend of his sister. There was no reason for her to do that, unless she wished for relations to collapse between their respective countries.\n\nTo listen to her, she seemed to think that there was some service she could perform for the betterment of both nations, some boon she could bestow. It was probable that the ring held some enchantment she thought was useful. Trust, he thought, was such a hard thing to bestow. He would have to have the ring analyzed before he decided to wear it, of course, but there seemed to be something missing from the discussion. \n\n\"What resources?\" He asked, prompting a sharp look at the ring. \"What purpose does the ring serve? I assume there is some enchantment placed on it.\"" }, { "author": "Princess Irezora Qinrel", "message": "The King's actions were just as she had expected: measured and efficient. The suspicion she hoped to abate seemed to linger still as she spoke, and even after hearing his response she feared that perhaps her initial apprehension proved too suspect to recover from. Trust, however, always existed as a two way stream. Just as he had put a semblance of trust in her by meeting, she too had entrusted in the King her own safety and wellbeing. It was no mistake that the pair stood surrounded by objects that he might easily turn into weapons. Even the jewelry adorning her ears and neck could slice through an artery faster than she might call words of magic to her lips. It was no coincidence that she possessed no weapons or magical implements on her person besides those resting on the table. Trust was always a two way stream, and she intended to prove herself worthy of his. \n\nSuch lofty truths took time to teach, however. Given the tumult following the festival hosted at her own castle and the looming risk of villains entering his home, she could not blame the King for his caution and reluctance to give trust willingly. There was far more at stake than either of their lives. \n\nThe ring. Right. \"Oh yes, this ring,\" She began, picking the object up once more and sliding it on to the thumb of her right hand. The piece was far too large for any of her fingers, having purposefully been fashioned for a larger wearer with the ability to alter its dimensions at will. \"It is crafted to detect potential sources of magic and their type. Many of those who will be arriving tomorrow are known for their abilities of, uh, persuasion and other less than savory means of acquiring information. I believe that, well, the information in your mind should stay your own. Not only that but in the case that someone finds a way around restrictions on magic you will not be caught off guard.\" Her gaze remained on the King as she explained her reasoning before a spark of excitement pushed away linger\n\nIng appearances of hesitation. \"In fact, I thought such magic restrictions might cause an issue on the function of the ring itself, but it seems as though combining both runic warding and enchantment allows the metal to retain the infused properties even with some levels of magical hinderance. There are, of course, cases where even the ring will not work, but I believe someone would need to directly target its magical properties which may be hard considering it most likely wouldn't register for most magic users attempting to detect other magic since some of the power is intrinsic. Intrinsic might not be the right word maybe it's more,\" She caught herself before more words could spill forth. \n\n\"Maybe a demonstration is more appropriate.\" Her gaze flicked quickly down to the large band on her finger in an attempt to hide any embarrassment that might be apparent. \"As you can see the metal is currently mostly grey with no real hints of coloring. However, if a nearby magic user were to do something such as alter the shape of this coin,\" She continued, fishing the mentioned object out of a pocket concealed in the folds of her skirt. \"The coloring will change to reflect such. It will not stay that color so a little bit of vigilance is necessary but, well, would you mind assisting?\" Her eyes flicked between the King and the coin, hoping he would perhaps show pity on the Princess perhaps making a fool of herself. Only one way to find out." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "A magic detector. He considered it for a moment. It was true that he did not trust the Queen to avoid reading his mind, or any of the others to avoid unsavory tactics - a ring that detected magic was a good idea in theory, if not in practice. Useful for knowing at least that there was some trick occurring, and what type of magic was coming into play. However, as the gears began turning in his mind, and he began to mull over the concept, there were a few factors to begin to dissect.\n\nFirstly, the ring itself was a ring. He didn't wear rings often, nor had he done so to any political event he had attended in the past year. It was not his style. With a discerning eye, it would be noticed. Second, attention would be drawn to the ring by the fact that he had to keep looking down at it to be notified of any spells. Third, there was no selective detection mechanism, and it could not distinguish between the casters of several spells, or between spells and permanent enchantments. Perhaps a different approach to the same problem.\n\n\"I am impressed at the innovations you have made, Princess, in terms of the concealment of the enchantment. I also thank you for the forethought on what would be necessary for my current situation politically.\" He glanced at the ring for the moment. \"However - I am not a usual wearer of rings, nor can I afford to draw attention to it by staring at the device, no matter how useful it may be. In addition, might the trigger be sprung far too often for our tastes? If an enchantment on a room is present, or if multiple spells are active, how does it filter out the signals?\"\n\n\"If I may,\" He began, a thoughtful look on his face. \"The detection method is sound, but it needs to be more selective. And for the alarm - perhaps it plays a note in one's mind? Something one does not have to look down to it for. A colored signal, perhaps, only visible to the wearer? A tint in their vision?\"" }, { "author": "Princess Irezora Qinrel", "message": "The King's genuine interest in her work was immediately apparent. When it came to creating work for the sake of others, questions were always the most gratifying of responses. Such challenges represented effortful thought about her design and its utility. She rubbed the metal band on her finger before slipping it off. All of his concerns were good ones, and some she had even considered before presenting the object to him today. \n\n\"Thank you, You Majesty,\" She replied first with a quick dip of her head. \"I actually was thinking the composition of the object might help with concealing it. Though, I suppose if we were to change the mechanism by which it will alert you...\" The words trailed off as the Princess pressed her lips together in thought. His suggestion relating to a sound in his mind would be nice, however, making that kind of alteration might be a little outside of the realm of possibility with the current runic mechanisms. If she were to make that change then the apparatus may not work within areas where barriers to magic exist. If only there was a physical change that she could make in the metal not related to color.\n\n\"Oh!\" She exclaimed, eyes flying back to the King as a smile broke out on her face. \"What if we make it a tactile sensation in response to nearby magic. Different sensations for different schools and different strengths based on the proximity of the spell. Would proximity be okay? I know that ideally we'd have a more precise way of determining the source of magic, but my initial intent was to prevent any surprises.\"" }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "\"Steel.\" He murmured. \"Again, your Highness, very thoughtful.\" A small smile graced his face, cracking through the stern exterior that usually armored him as surely as the steel with which he was encased. The spark of innovation was clearly within her too, and at heart, the king was an inquisitive man, meant more for writing papers on natural laws than for dealing in politics. If given the choice, he might work out the mechanisms for machines every day of every week.\n\nThis, he supposed, was another sort of machine, and it had a clear input and output. He drummed his fingers against his chin, thinking of how to make the changes. Just like the problem of creating a strange habit of looking at his fingers, perhaps the tactile sensations might be slightly strange as well - a buzzing vibration in his joints would be unfortunately loud in the silence of a meeting room. Heat, however, he could do - that and cold. But that was only two. What for the other schools?\n\n\"I propose we do nothing with vibration, then.\" He suggested, playing off of the concept of a tactile sensation. \"It might be loud. I can stand heat and cold, but those are only two types of alerts. I suggest they correspond to evocation and abjuration, respectively. Perhaps they should occur in different parts of the ring? Four cardinal directions, to make it simple - and with heat and cold, we would have eight easily recognizable signals, for most of the schools of magic.\"" }, { "author": "Princess Irezora Qinrel", "message": "The Princess pressed her lips together in an attempt to suppress the grin threatening to conquer her face at his addition. It had been quite some time since the recipient of one of her inventions brought meaningful contributions to its design. What had started as a small item with potential could now make the difference between victims and victors. Of course, she hoped that this formality would never be activated, a foolish desire to believe that all monarchs would respect one another enough to establish a semblance of trust. However, she was quite familiar with one of them, after all. \n\n\"I think,\" She began again once the King had finished his addition. \"That I could also manage a bit of a shocking sensation if that would not be too much, Your Majesty. Maybe even something akin to pulsing like...\" The words trailed off before her eyes once again widened. \"No we could use the hot and cold along with patterns. So A pulse of hot then one second of no sensation and another pulse for Abjuration perhaps and maybe two cold for evocation? Then we could do one hot then cold for divination and vice versa for enchantment?\" \n\nIn her excitement, she had risen up to her toes and back down multiple times before turning to the small piece of paper on the table. She looked around briefly for any sort of writing instrument before absentmindedly plucking a pin from her hair, focusing on the flat object and transforming it to a lead writing instrument." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "She reminded him of the best and the worst researchers he had seen at the Association, he decided - though her inquisitive mind was clearly working at the rate of ten miles per minute, one of the core principles of applied research was lost on her. Though the possibilities of such experiments might be endless, only a select few ever ended up being useful, and though variation was the spice of life, consistency was what made functional projects in the end. The meeting was fast approaching, and to learn a complicated system of pulses was not possible for a man with very little time to spare and many preparations to attend to along with matters of state. \n\nThe smile upon his face remained, however. Though this was a common thread that he sometimes grew exasperated with, it meant that learning was truly a joy of hers, and that she reveled in the possibilities nearly as much as he did when undertaking projects of passion. That was a quality that could never be replaced - it drove forward the wheels of progress ever faster until its destination was reached.\n\n\"I do not think that shocking is on the same order as heat and cold, Your Highness.\" He raised an eyebrow, slightly amused. \"While the latter two can perhaps be alarming if taken in extremes, the former will be alarming consistently, and I do not believe I would like the added challenge of controlling myself whenever I feel the urge to jump suddenly during a meeting with high political stakes.\"\n\n_ _\n\"Please strike the shocking from the record. In addition...\" He strode forward as he spoke, leaning over the table beside her and taking note of what she was recording. \"I said nothing of a pulsing system - I envisioned a more consistent sensation, corresponding to the duration of the magic in question. For example, 'north' and 'warm' on the finger would correspond to evocation, while 'north' and 'cold' would correspond to abjuration, and so on. I further suggest that they be slightly offset from each other, so as to know when they are both being used.\"" }, { "author": "Princess Irezora Qinrel", "message": "A faint rush of heat pushed its way through her cheeks as the King seemingly made a joke in response to her blind enthusiasm. The Alynthi monarch was known for many great feats and mannerisms, however, humor was never among the list. Such a fool she must be to elicit levity from a man of steel. Perhaps it was for the best, she thought, that a man with so much weight to carry might be afforded a moment or two for discussing anything but. Although the pair stood tailoring the object in question for use such circumstances, that might not be apparent to an observer. The conversation was of an almost light nature, just two scholars puzzling out the specifics of a new invention.\n\nShe scratched at the words that had come from her mind and replaced them with the request of the King. It would certainly entail a different mechanism to link the directionality of a ring to what it senses. After all, a simple band has no up or down to speak of. \"I'll have to change the design then,\" She said, resting the lead on her bottom lip in thought. \"There will need to be some sort of symbol that indicates directionality so that you wear it the same way each time.\"\n\nA few traces more and a rough sketch had appeared below the new words. The image of a band, this time with a round stamped image on the top took center stage upon the page. Four large points spread across the face, with four smaller ones offset by 45 degrees. The drawing was crude and incomplete, but the idea was present. \"A compass, Your Majesty,\" She said, beaming up at the man with satisfaction. \"We can't well use cardinal directions, but I believe you mean to use the location on the ring. So if a growing warmth were to appear on the top of your finger you might note nearby evocation magic. Again, this doesn't help in a situation where magic will be used liberally, however, it might be of help when that is not the case.\" \n\n\"I can have these changes ready by tomorrow, Your Majesty, if the design pleases you. It might he\n\nLp it,\" Her eyes returned down to the paper for a moment, taking stock of her notes. \"Well working with color is well within the realm of my comfort, visual magic and all, but changing the tactical sensation of metal requires an understanding of substance composition that I may not be able to completely grasp with one afternoon and evening of study.\" She pressed her lips together once more briefly as her gaze flicked down towards her hands before finally returning to the King. \"It is clear that your knowledge of metallic properties far exceeds my own, I wondered if you might have a few moments to help me with the specifics of temperature shifts with such solid substances after we conclude this meeting? Of course, I understand you are quite busy and have far more important matters to attend to and in that case I will do all I can to learn the necessary properties and steps in fact I may have a little familiarity...\"She continued on past these words, any number of random facts and phrases that might have proven relevant to their current situation spilling forward without end as though waiting for a cue to stop the onslaught.\n\nFoolish, she thought. How could she be of use if her \"Great inventions\" Required the King to put in his own time to finish. So much for being helpful.\n\nMercy please my lord" }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "Her cheeks reddened in what appeared to be embarrassment. Was he really so out of practice at making jokes that he was now incapable of humor? Doubtless her expression sprouted from his poor attempt at it, and he felt as if it would have been better not to attempt it at all. There was nothing he could add in the form of a joke. His smile melted away to his usual composure, the face calm and stern, appraising the proposed changes with a more analytical mind than one inclined to levity.\n\n\"One mark should be enough. Something small and insignificant. The runes I can hide inside my armor, but this must show in some way. I should like for it so be a mark that no one believes will be important. A simple arrow might be functional enough. Or the rune for the letter 'N'.\" He suggested, leaning over the sketchbook with interest. Forty-five degree offsets had not been what he had considered, but if that was what she thought was appropriate, it would work well enough. It needed to remain simple, though - too much and he would soon forget what the signals meant.\n\n\"I propose we simply use cold if this design is to be used.\" He continued. \"If they were clustered together, both signals might be necessary, but this is simpler in a way. Cleaner even than what I had suggested. I approve. You shall have all the documents I have written on the subject of the properties of metals, and my ear if you wish to ask me directly what I meant within the context of the papers. However, changing my sensation of cold is probably a good deal harder than simply making the metal itself grow cold.\"\n\n\"And as you can transmute already, given your work with the hairpin that has now become your pencil, I suggest you think of heating and cooling metal thusly; imagine a small current runs through whatever metal you are transmuting, and runs at a constant speed. When this current runs quicker, the metal heats - when it runs slowly, it cools. All you must do is slow the current.\"" }, { "author": "Princess Irezora Qinrel", "message": "The fun was over, so it seemed. All it took was a moment of its absence for her to realize how greatly she, too, had needed it. With his final words and appraising eye, she put the last touches on their combined design. There was no intention to change his physical state, that was why his initial request for visual cues would have been so hard to execute in the first place. Simple cooling of an object, however, appeared within their reach. As the King spoke, she peered upward at the scholar as he put he concept in terms he knew she would be able to grasp. It was a skill in itself, she knew, to teach. Although sharing knowledge numbered high on her list of passions, occasionally she lacked the patience necessary to fully explain something at a rudimentary level that she understood in great detail.\n\nShe could not help but consider that the man beside her continued to prove himself as everything her father might have wished for in a son. A leader with no thirst for blood, a man with passions of his own. Instead, the King of Thyseer had been blessed with two daughters, neither of which measures close. Besides, it was only a matter of time before Delsandra... She turned her attention back down to the table for a moment then back at the man, a smile growing upon her face once more. \"I believe that should be no trouble, Your Majesty,\" She began with a nod of her head. \"Though I would not wish to take any more of your time than I already have, and there is more I had hoped to share with you before your duties called you elsewhere.\" Her eyes wandered to the folio of paper bound before them. \"I can promise there will be no more threats of bodily harm, though,\" She added with a playful smile tugging the corner of her lip." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "There was little more to say on the subject of the ring, it appeared, and they had more or less ironed out the necessary details for its construction. He hoped that on a conceptual level, what he had said made sense - when he focused, really focused on the metal at hand, it was as if there was some river yet unseen, made of the tiniest... Sand, almost? Perhaps if sand was alive. It felt flexible on some level, as if it were tiny grains of clay molded together, dried as if in a kiln, yet still... Somehow moving.\n\nThe best way he could think about it was as a river, anyhow. It was all he could do to translate that, and hoped she Felt* The material the way he did.\n\n\"If you have more to share, then please do so.\" His mouth turned upwards into a small smile at her joke, pleased that perhaps she had not thought him so ridiculous as to dislike his sense of humor. He had been much worried that she might come to detest his attempts at it, but it seemed things were well in the end, and he had no reason to worry as he did.\n\nThe items on the table, however, piqued his curiosity, and soon the smile faded as his eyes rested on both the letter and the folio, curious about each of them." }, { "author": "Princess Irezora Qinrel", "message": "\"Yes of course!\" She replied quickly, eager to continue on to the next subject at hand. She placed the ring back atop the piece of paper with its additional plans newly included. Most likely the ring would need to be passed off some time in the morning while the delegations were still gathering, but they could broach that later if necessary. With her hands now free of rings and writing instruments, she picked apart the loose knot holding the folio closed. With one smooth motion she pulled the front back to lay the spine flat, exposing a stack of papers, some worn and others fresh, all with the same distinct handwriting from the design of the ring. \n\n\"Well I figured based on the success of the ring that you might be open to hearing of some other ideas and concepts I've put together.\" Her eyes turned up to the the man's as she continued. \"Though I prefer to spend my time creating works of beauty or entertainment, I fear that there may soon be a greater need for innovation of a different kind.\" Once again her eyes returned to the pages, believing further explanation could only serve to beat a dead horse. Based on all that she had seen in their short meeting, the King very well understood what she meant, both as a scientist and a monarch. \n\n\"I've included here some designs that prove most helpful. For the most part they are still in rudimentary phases and I pray we will have no use for them, but they do none of us any good on paper.\" With a pass of her hand she spread a few of the pages out, showing sketches of box-like contraptions and larger balloon shaped objects. \"I fear that back home in Thyseer I lack the ability to plan and respond to events in a timely manner. Although my father does all that he can to keep us in step with our allies as geopolitical events such as these center around Alynthi and her court we felt it best I, too, follow the flock. This time, she pulled half of the stack back, revealing a new set of papers, this time with lines of text and t\n\nHe occasional diagram. \n\n\"Information,\" She said, keeping her gaze on the words before looking up for his reaction. \"As I am sure you have done as well, my father has made a habit of increasing knowledge wherever possible in relation to potential allies and foes. It is our belief that the alliance between our kingdoms gains nothing if we do not utilize this bond to its fullest.\" She pressed her lips together before rearranging the papers to keep her hands from resting idle. \n\n\"This is for you. I have a copy of all documents included in the case that you ever have need to discuss further. It is my intention to continue this work here in Alynthi, with your permission of course, Your Majesty,\" She added with another dip of her head in his direction. \"And if you would permit a few resources I might be able to begin prototypes such as this.\" A gesture towards the metal band was all she needed to make the point. \n\n\"I know of you only the little I have seen and much I have heard. Your actions at Sorevelle proved consistent with the praise of those whose opinion I hold in high regard, highest of which being my father.\" She stepped to the side just a step so that he might be able to look over the book if he so desired, turning her back to the table and resting her hands upon its edge. \"That is to say that you have my trust and respect, even if I have not yet earned yours. I could mean nothing more than the words I first spoke to you upon initiating this conversation. I love my Kingdom as you do yours and will stop at nothing to safeguard the lives of our people respectively.\" \n\nPerhaps it was all a little too much, she supposed. What reason did he have to believe such claims when so many would say them just to have his ear? Perhaps the passion of a fellow monarch and scholar was enough to get them somewhere. \"What do you say?\"" }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "At first, he thought that she was going to ask him for funding for her personal projects, but as she spoke of 'innovation of a different kind', it was apparent what she meant - war machines, magical countermeasures or powerful items, something he could use in the investigation of the Sorevelle crisis. There was much to be done if they were to take any proper measures to protect themselves. Perhaps with some leap forward in magical innovation, they would be able to devise a method to find this entity or person, whichever had done it.\n\n\"...I shall read the documents on the other nations over during the lead-up to the conference, Your Highness.\" He concluded. If she was to be able to continue her work in the interim, perhaps they could extract some value from the folio laid in front of him.\n\n \"If you have another copy to keep for yourself, of course. I wish not to rob you of your intelligence on the others - and it is not often wise to give away one's work when it is needed for practicum.\" His eyes twinkled with a spark of mirth for a moment.* \"Your request has been granted. You shall have a fine laboratory if you are in need of one. The International Alchemical Association has a few rooms in my castle which might be of use. There is no reason why you should not be allowed to access one of them frequently, nor make it your own, if you so wish, for the duration of your experiments.\"\n\n\"...I thank you, also,\" His voice quieted as she spoke of her father. \"For your words. Assurances of trust, respect, and regard are always much appreciated. Please thank His Majesty your father on my behalf when you next see him. Furthermore, I should think that although trust is a hard-earned quality, you have comported yourself with grace, and are well on the way to earning that trust. Respect has been beyond earned at this point. I must thank you for your gestures here.\"" }, { "author": "Princess Irezora Qinrel", "message": "The feeling of wood beneath her fingers kept her present as the King made his determination. The hesitation she had expected upon entering this room seemed absent, almost. Was it possible that over the course of this short conversation she had succeeded in demonstrating her true intent. A wave of relief washed clean the anxiety of accidental affronts or annoyances. Eyes still fixed on the man beside her, she could not help but smile at his acceptance. Not only had permission been granted, but the implication that her 'practicum' would continue unabated neared encouragement. This understanding was solidified with his extension of resources reserved for the Alchemist Association for the purposes of her experimentation. She could write rows of words and still fail to express her appreciation for his understanding. \n\nPerhaps the largest consolation came in the confirmation of all she had heard thus far about the Alynthi King. His words for her father softened her lips from the edge of a grin back to a more neutral expression. For a moment, she wondered if in another life she, too, might have risen to be a monarch worthy of her people and allies. It was not often that a princess was permitted such thoughts and there had never been a day in her life that Irezora believed she would ever ascend to rule Thyseer. However in these moments, when she experienced first hand the impact of a Good King, worry was hard to weaken. The greatest fortune lay with her father's health. With two daughters only, many spoke of his reluctance to commit either to a marriage of political favor. Zora found no reason for him to rush, personally. She could think of few commands her father might have that she would disobey and marrying for the good of her kingdom certainly was not one of them. That did not stop the eventuality from looming overhead. Could it be possible that one day the people of Thyseer may forget the Princess that left to keep them safe? \n\n\"I thank you, Your Majesty,\" She\n\nResponded as the vacant expression hiding her thoughts took form. \"I certainly will pass your message along as soon as possible.\" Messages. Gestures. Oh yes, gestures. Her gaze cleared, a mix of excitement and embarrassment returning to her eyes. A moment of hesitation stopped her attention from turning to the envelope as she weighed the necessity of the last object. Perhaps he might find such an item foolish in a time such as this. Given the gravity of the remainder of their conversation it could be considered insensitive or disappointing. No doubt he expected a missive from her father or other necessary information to aid in their joint journey. That would mean that the object had already caught his attention, and she knew all too well the difficulties that came with unanswered questions. \n\nShe turned to face the table once again, picking up the envelope and handing it to him. The explanation began as he unveiled the contents. It held several pieces of paper, each with a series of dots drawn in what seemed to be sporadic patterns. On some there were repeated lines while others seemed a jumbled mess. All were approximately the same length and width, no longer than a finger.\n\n\"I realize this must seem foolish in the face of potential peril, but,\" Her words paused for a moment as her eyes searched his face for the beginning of the reaction she feared, \"But it is my belief that we must not forfeit that which is worth saving in the world we struggle to save.\" Already she felt a dolt without having even come to the explanation. \"Your sister,\" She interjected quickly, \"Has been most kind to me since my arrival. I gifted her with a music box for her recent birthday, an admittedly simple contraption run almost entirely without magic. It creates sound with the turning of a metal cylinder covered with bumps like those that strike prongs with corresponding notes at specified intervals.\" She was getting too far into the details, she knew, but the words wouldn't stop coming. \"I just thought, well, listening to one song can be boring. These are a few other tunes I thought she might like,\" She continued, gesturing to the papers. \n\n\"Recently, my sister and I have not had the best of relationships, but Alora has nothing but good things to say regarding her brother. Seeing as you, you know,\" A vague gesture of her hand between the man and the ring served as the only actual explanation, \"That there may be ways in which you can share your gifts with her as well.\" Her lips pressed together briefly before continuing. \"I considered making the additional pieces myself, but when I considered the fine details of such metal work I felt as though it wasn't me that they should be coming from.\" \n\nDevinah help me, now that the words were out it all sounded so silly. Had she truly suggested something so trivial to a man preparing to walk into war? Though a semblance of her confidence remained, she averted her eyes back to the ring and paper, gathering them together with her back turned to him as to hide the flush of embarrassment returning to her cheeks. So much for respect." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "As he eyed the final letter with curiosity, he took note of her fidgeting, the nervous energy that seemed to course through her. There was something familiar about it, in a way - he had seen it fill so many of his colleagues that he could recognize an inventor by sight almost as quickly as by their skill. It was the electricity that fed invention, it was innovation and stress and the expectation of great things to come. That alone might have engendered his friendship, but it was evident by her actions this night that she was more than willing to lend her own hand to the cause. There was grit too alongside that wish for the world to be more wonderful.\n\nIt was what they all needed. Frankly, he wished his own sisters had lent more of a hand in quieting the court, helping to advise him, giving some sort of perspective on what to Do* In situations when he was a fish out of water. Court was their domain, not his - and he worried that he was not able to measure to the court's idea of what a king should be. He was practical, commanding, and decisive - perhaps qualities that a soldier appreciated, but certainly a stumbling block for courtly etiquette he had been trying hard to relearn. Each word had its own connotation, and he could not simply say 'walk with me' to a courtier, he had to include a 'please' or 'if you would'. He hated the intricacies therein. He was sure he had made mistakes.\n\nThose were thoughts for another time, however - now, his attention was on the letter. Unmarked, a sealed envelope. It had all the hallmarks of a secretive communique, but to whom and from whom? Was it a message she had received, intended for his eyes? One from her to him, a reminder of things she had seen, a warning of enemies to come? As she handed him the envelope, and his gauntlet's fingertip briefly lengthened and sharpened into a letter opener as he neatly parted the paper with a razorlike blade, he unfolded the interior, expecting some clandestine information.\n\n_ _\nWhat he found instead first lifted his eyebrows and then the corners of his mouth into a genuine smile as he recognized the studs and gears before she even spoke the words 'music box'. His research into the applications of his magic had long since included music and art - and as his display at Sorevelle had shown, one of his very favorite applications of his magic was in the creation of such displays. Passion and practice had gone into every moment of play, and this, of course, was no different. He had seen boxes with flat embossed discs, but the cylinders were smaller and more intricate, difficult metalwork to be done by hand and in tune. With his help, it would be child's play to gift her any tune she wished.\n\nAs she continued to speak on her sister's troubles, he was reminded of that look in her eye, her behavior at Thunder Fest. He could easily believe that they had been in arguments of a massive scale, with the way Delsandra seemed almost insane. It had been an unsettling experience, to say the least - and made him appreciate his own sisters a good deal more. With a cursory glance over the few cylinders present, and the music that was meant to accompany them, he gave a few nods of approval, and a vague memory pressed at the back of his mind.\n\n\"As I recall,\" He murmured, the smile entering his voice even if his face was solemn.* \"Alora was quite partial to 'The Wind In The Willows' as a child. In addition to these, would you do me the courtesy of adding a cylinder that plays it?\"" }, { "author": "Princess Irezora Qinrel", "message": "The pent up apprehension held within her chest released via way of a gentle laugh. Her grin spread wide to match his own. That initial intuition had been right, then. The King loved his family dearly and would never balk at such an opportunity to please a sister. Affection of that kind often fell through the cracks in the face of duty and responsibility. Many of the court and common seemed to hold a belief that monarchs are tasked with so much that they need not put effort in to relationships with those whose loyalty they do not need to earn. How wrong they were, she thought. Both the Findaran and Alynthi kings had always proven them wrong, and this one was no exception. \n\nKings embodied power, propriety, and paternity. A king might be many things to many people, but to those beneath his banner, one and all, he would always be the foremost father to feel their fortunes and fallings. In her eyes, That Proved the role of a king throughout time. The warmth no longer remained confined to her face as she heard and revered his request. The love of this brother surely seemed timeless, and the fondness with which he recalled the preferences of his sister quickened the her pulse as excitement set in. Not only did he accept the gesture, but he appreciated it enough to ask for more. \n\n\"Certainly, Your Majesty,\" She said, quickly fumbling with the ring for a moment before stuffing it and the paper into a pocket sewn into one of the mans folds of her skirt. \"I believe that can be arranged, but I may only be able to produce the design, the metal work itself is a little outside of my proficiency and well,\" She paused for her moment, eyes meeting his, \"I have a ring that causes no obvious bodily harm or shocks to correct.\" She could not stop the corners of her mouth from pulling even further upward, despite an effortful attempt to press her lips together to suppress the playful expression finding its way to her features." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "He considered that for a moment, feeling his way around the library for the location of each one of the coins. Perhaps there was some merit to making them into the cylinders for the music box, but that would send the wrong message. Intently, he studied the papers one after one, and in sequence, the fingers of his gauntlet slid off, hovering above his palm as they flattened out and forged themselves into thin sheets. Each came to rest upon its proper template as the king spread them upon the desk.\n\nOne indent there, another to the left... The measurements were quite precise, he thought - and the templates were well-drawn. Though he wished for a ruler, he had none. The measurements Princess Irezora had taken would have to be sufficient in this case. Carefully, he pulled upwards the small sections of previously-indented metal, creating raised levers, each ready to spring back and create a sound. One by one, he shaped the steel into its proper form, like a clockmaker intent on placing the last gear perfectly.\n\nA low hum came from his throat, a baritone tune that wandered though a few short verses. A lullaby, almost. The Wind In The Willows was a children's song, but it was one he had known before the war, and one he barely remembered still. With a music box, it seemed appropriate. There was something To* The idea of a simple tune that came back in a new way. \n\nPerhaps it mirrored his own journey, he thought - at the outset, he had been nothing more than a boy. He came back a man. More a man and less, with the god lurking in his head, Temperance dead. Friends he had made and loved and lost. At the end of the day, was he still himself? If the music was the same...\n\n\"Would you point me in the direction of C on the scale, Your Highness?\" He requested quietly, fingers tracing the pages for a moment." }, { "author": "Princess Irezora Qinrel", "message": "Oh he meant right now.* As the King rearranged his gauntlet into blank canvases she couldn't help but watch in awe as the medium molded to his minds' eye. She'd heard of the fantastic feats he could accomplish with just a little metal, but seeing it with her own eyes proved even more enchanting. Magic was everywhere. Many could use use it to win battles, conquer foes, or find secrets. In the hands of most, however, magic was just a tool. For some it proved something more. A magician with a connection so deep to their craft that little thought or effort need be expended on it always proved a wonder. \n\nWork that had taken her hours with technical tools took him mere minutes. She couldn't imagine any picture stranger than that of the Alynthi King crafting trinkets of metal in the depth of his castle on the eve of a grand council. \n\nThat was until he began humming. \n\nThe sound was unpracticed and pitchy, but the tune rang clear. The Fae in the Forrest, she recalled as the notes pieces themselves together. It was a lullaby sang to children in the cradle. So that was this \"Wind In The Willows\" That Princess Alora adored. Memories of moments with an elder sister gently brushing her hair or dressing their dolls washed through her mind. It wasn't until he spoke, his question breaking the silence that her attention snapped back to the present. \n\n\"Of course, Your Majesty,\" She replied quickly, plucking one of the floating papers already copied from the air. Luckily her pin remained transformed. Briefly she turned back to the table with the paper, consulting the filled side as she hummed the tune to herself, the lyrics echoing in her mind. \"Go Tell it to the Fountain\" Was the name as she knew it and as the far more practiced sounds came together into the melody she marked each dot according to its note. It was quite fortunate that this tune included a C, she supposed, placing the paper in front of the King's hand. It appears as though his mind searched for an answer to a\n\nQuestion more vexing than the placement of a C. She would not press further than he was willing to bend." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "Carefully, he listened to the plucking of the cylinder, saw the notes as they were marked, and briefly unrolled another to make it ring with the tune of 'Go Tell It To The Fountain', getting the pace once, then twice as he reran the cylinder simply in the air around them, making sure he knew the rhythm and the time that it needed to follow. After the conclusion of the second running of the song, he gave a small nod, and began to hum again, following 'The Wind In The Willows' one note at a time.\n\nEvery time he changed pitch, an indent rose from the metal, pricking up into a written song much like the others, imitating the style, but placing the notes differently. C, then up to G, then... It wrote itself as the cylinder rotated in the air, music coming into being as small mechanical divots. When the roll was finished, he steadied it alongside another, and slowly rolled it in time with the other, making sure the beats matched, and he had not made the cylinder play too fast or too slow. \n\nThough the melodies were discordant, he took care to make sure his song did not seem too fast, clustering the divots together slightly wider than he had been. When he deemed his work done, he nodded, and wish a final sigh, the last cylinder placed itself alongside the others upon the desk, formed into the keystone of a music box meant for his sister. He had to hope he had gotten it right.\n\n\"Your Highness.\" He bowed his head politely as he turned to go. \"I thank you for your kindness towards my sister, and your consideration of my own goals. Words cannot express what it means to have an ally in these trying times. You are welcome for as long as you wish to be in Alynthi. His Majesty will be glad to hear the work his daughter has done. Until we meet again.\"" }, { "author": "Princess Irezora Qinrel", "message": "As the King completed his task, metal tubes perfected and prepared, she watched the magic bring her vision to life. For a moment the spirit of an inventor swept over her once more along with grand visions of endless possibilities. The pages of the folio now in the King's possession were just the beginning of what could be a new age of innovation. Such a shame, it was, that the man before her remained bound to duties far loftier than toiling with the tinkerers. Perhaps if they were all to avoid any great catastrophes tomorrow their chance might come. Unlikely. \n\n\"It is my pleasure, Your Majesty. The coins around the room are yours should you have need for them. A simple arrangement with a diameter no greater than 10 meters should reactivate the effect.\" She paused for a moment allowing him a chance to decide whether he would take them or not. The folio could easily be brought to him at a later time if taking it now would be an inconvenience. As he turned to go, his words brought forth an impulse to speak that might have been best kept away. An ally in these trying times. Was there more an ally could do? In all likelihood the King would be better served by an ally such as her father. Perhaps that was who he meant. There was little that the second Princess of Thyseer could offer a man with so much power. Then again, power alone does not seeing kingdoms through trying times. \n\n\"If I may, Your Majesty,\" She began as the idea struck well before the rest of her senses could catch up. \"I share your gratitude for an ally in these times and while I may know little about the ways of a warrior or the realities of war, I have spent most of my life preparing to navigate an altogether different sort of battlefield. I understand that a great many years of training would be required for me to come even close to your skill with a sword, but do consider what someone with the same efforts spent on mastering the realm of political intrigue might be capable of as well.\" Was her im\n\nPlication clear enough? It was possible that her suggestion might cause the King offense given the blatant characterization of the man as politically unwieldy. However, it was in the best interest of her kingdom as well for this summit to go on without a hitch. \n\n\"I am sure you have advisors plenty who would direct you in every which way, all I can offer that may be unique is the perspective of fellow royalty.\" She paused for a moment, allowing him time to object if her statements had begun to cause offense. \"While all will be grateful for your hospitality, there is something to be said for these monarchs willing to travel to your kingdom and stay beneath your roof given their unfamiliarity. Anything we can do to show them that at that table we are all equals will go far in building at least a modicum of trust, I believe.\" She nodded her head once more in his direction. \"Until then.\"" }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "\"No need. You may keep them.\" He returned briefly, pausing for a moment before he left the room. \"I have no intention to rob you of your own handiwork - nor to decrease the coin in your coffers, no matter how small an amount it might be in the grand scheme of things.\" It was a sum of a few gold pieces, but for a princess, it was nothing that could not be replaced. There was a slight upturn to the tone of his voice, half-suggesting a joke. His mind was seldom on such humor, however, and it fell flatter than he would have liked in the face of other contemplations.\n\nHer proposal of help, for one, was intriguing. It was true that his sisters had not provided him with much in the way of advisement or assistance, and none of them seemed to navigate the politics of court particularly well. Perhaps that was a consequence of their father's deft leadership. In any case, it was not to them that the duty fell - and many advisers were, as she had said, the only resources available to him. For a moment, his eyebrow raised as she implied his incompetence at politics - but in the end, such was true. He was no politician, just as she was no general. A king needed to be both, capable of rule in wartime and in peace. He studied her for a moment with eyes narrowed, thoughtful.\n\nHis hand flickered in a wavelike motion, calling the coins to his hand one by one as if they were miniature birds coming to roost in his palm. They arranged themselves into a neat stack, each piled on top of the other, and subsequently exited his hand to come to rest on the desk. An ingenious spell, and its method a sign of trust. Many different gestures contained within one object. It was amusing, he thought, that something so simple could carry so much meaning. The quiet provided meant secrecy, the material they were made of meant he was alerted to their location from the start.\n\n_ _\n\"I accept.\" He spoke clearly, his voice carrying through the room and perhaps out into the hallway. Sabatons rang against the stone floor once more as he gave a brief nod of the head and exited. On the face of the topmost coin, the metal shifted into an embossed sentence briefly, and then was lost. 'One hour after noon tomorrow. My study. I am most grateful'." } ]	414	11,660
400.222222	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Ehkan Noran Kippat", "message": "Despite having been to the capital multiple times, Ehkan was always amazed by its beauty. It was no Khisfire, but its architecture was something to behold when looked upon. The people within, faces and races from all across the world, walked the streets with smiles and fits of laughter, and bards often sat at windows above so that their music could touch the ears of those wandering by. A few even waved at Ehkan, and some winked once they noticed the woman walking beside him. \n\n Ehkan had offered Vayra his cloak, but had yet to bother about whether she wore it or not, he was more focused on getting them to the tailor who owed him a favor. She seemed enthralled by the sights, it was a feeling he understood well, so he just made sure to stop whenever she stopped and to ensure she was keeping up with him. \n\n As they turned into the Capital Market they were greeted by the chaos. Shops here were familiar with being overrun with customers, Ehkan only came this way if he was helping the old Genasi lady who lived in the apartment next to his. She always made him jam no matter how many times he told her it wasn't necessary. Maybe Vayra might want some. \n\n \"His shop is this way,\" Ehkan told her. \"Just bear the crowd, he's not far off.\"" }, { "author": "Vayra Vakara", "message": "Following suit would be Ehkan's newly acquainted companion, and ever did she fall for the sights and crowds that the Capital of Alynthi, Varilon would offer them. The winks and waves offered to the pair would be countered with the friendliest of smiles from the Khisfiran Tiefling, fang-filled and distracted by the experience of an awe-struck tourist; certainly not the look of a seasoned adventurer.\n\nEhkan's offered cloak seemed to be accepted afterall, brushing at the Alynthian winds and hiding what others may have considered an attire too revealing for the cooler environment of Khisfire's North-Western border. Regardless, Vayra's expressive nature, points and beckons as she toured the sights would betray the nature of that cloak. Every far reach would she reveal more of her Khisfiran attire, and rarely was she ashamed of showing it.\n\nNaturally Ehkan would be victim to her adventurous nature. Notably stopping at a sizeable statue of an Alynthi hero, a smug and playful pose beckoning to Ehkan as she did; mirroring the Warrior. Other places such as Alchemist stops and general vendors caught her eye, but perhaps swiftly was she reeled in to the idea of meeting that Tailor first. Of course, the general vibe that Ehkan promoted seemed to invite far more time than she expected to wander about with him. A smile in kind at the idea of it all, truly Vayra intended to allow the waves take her as freely as she could! \n\nEventually in the bustle of the market, Vayra felt herself almost overwhelmed by the crowds if not for Ehkan's guidance. His words would be acknowledged by a swift nod, faint smile apparent as they guided through the number of people going about their lives just like the two.\n\n\"I'll keep close, mhm.\" - Vayra offered in an excited tone, eager to meet with this Tailor as she huddled close to Ehkan on their path to this supposed favour. With it, ample time to poke at her Wood Elf guide. \"So.. Why does he owe you a favour, exactly..? This Tailor friend of yours.\"" }, { "author": "Ehkan Noran Kippat", "message": "Ehkan shuffled through the crowd with a bit of ease, his height and broad shoulders allowed him to push against people who would have otherwise been a hassle, and although he did not hold Vayra's hand, Ehkan made sure that she was walking directly behind him so she wouldn't be lost. So far he was really enjoying his time with her. To think that a trip into the forest would turn into this little adventure. He wondered how long she would be in the city for. \n\n \"This way,\" He said over his shoulder, and this time he did hold her hand. He pulled her gently behind him, and flashed her a smile, before finally getting into the tailor's stores. Though people were checking out the displayed dresses that floated around in the store, it was a good break from the madness beyond the door of the tailor's space. Ehkan sighed in relief and turned to Vayra, she seemed fine, other than the understandable stress which came from pushing through a crowd of people. \n\n Then he realized that he was still holding her hand and quickly let go, then he turned away before she could notice the slight blush that formed on his cheeks. \"Right... So here we are,\" He said as he gestured to the magically endowed store. It was truly a sight to behold as clothes flew through the air and puppets, dressed in the tailor's latest work strutted about to meet different customers and strike a random pose. \n\n \"I am going to find Limnet,\" He told her. \"He's in here, somewhere. Just go through, I'll be right back.\" Then he walked off to find his old friend, who would probably tease him for using his favor on a woman he just met." }, { "author": "Vayra Vakara", "message": "It was in the crowd that they shared a sudden moment, hands intertwined to help keep her close from the bustle of daily Alynthian life. Something that felt so right and made all that sense, soon to act the Catalyst for flusters and thoughts. But finally out of the storm, Vayra led along with a notable shift in attention to the building around her. Trying best to bush past any other customers assessing the wear, would she smile at the assortment of clothes and Alynthian dresses that were proudly displayed under the poses of magical mannequins.\n\nOnly then, a few steps through the store would she return her glance back to Ehkan, gaze knowingly lowering to the hands still intertwined then let go upon the realisation. Vay felt the fluster of the action, a knowing smile directed to Ehkan before they both found their composure. The topic of the shop, how perfect it was!\n\n\"It's.. So nice, Ehkan! Ooh, look at this one..!\" - Vayra distracted her mind by a step away to an approaching mannequin, a flowery dress with a wild skirt that seemed to attract those who particularly enjoy twirling. Leaning in to poke at the details before jumping at the surprise of a sudden twirling pose, the Tiefling giggled until Ehkan's proposal. \"Okay, okay! I'll be.. Around! I'm sure you won't miss me!\" - Vayra seemed to smirk his way, a hand lightly tapping at her pointed horns before snickering and easing off further into the store to inspect and enjoy the sights. \n\nThe further she got from Ehkan, the more her mind seemed to drag. Loose thoughts that raced excitedly regarding this strange yet all the more intriguing meet! Just what was going on, to have such a clinging effect to the Tiefling illusionist." }, { "author": "Ehkan Noran Kippat", "message": "\"The Son of the Sun graces my store.\" \n\n The words were thrown at Ehkan just as he opened the door to Limnet's office. At first, he was surprised by how he could be recognized despite the Satyr not facing him, but then he remembered the tailor had a knack for setting up an Arcane Eye at the entrance to check on his customers or keep a literal eye for trouble. \n\n \"Limnet,\" Ehkan said in the form of a greeting as he stepped fully into the office, having to weave through the protective charms that hung from the ceiling. An addition made by his wife and children when he had been marked by a competitor and chased through the streets by malicious spirits. That was quite the day. The charms made the place smell like spring. \"I see you're holding well, and the children are mastering their charm-forging skills. You must be proud.\"\n\n \"My youngest child, as you put it, is as old as you, Ehkan,\" Limnet chuckled. He turned to the elf holding a bottle of ale and two large cups. \"But yes, ever since that accursed incident, they come about every other week to ensure the charms are effective. Now, who is the beautiful woman standing in my store?\"\n\n\"A friend,\" Ehkan answered immediately and took the cup the satyr was offering. \"She was lost and, I am being a gentleman.\"\n\n \"You? A gentleman?\" Limnet laughed while pouring the ale into their cups. \"I am the last man you need lie to, Ehkan. I can smell the courting from here, you know?\"\n\n\n \"All you can smell in here is pine.\" Ehkan gestured to the charms looming over them. \"And I am a gentleman, which is why I am here. Do you remember that favor you owe me? She needs new clothes, her current ones are Khisfirian, and we both know these climates aren't made for such. So, I feel your expertise is needed.\" \n\n Limnet cleared the cup and gestured to the door. \"Well, I enjoy paying back favors, and it would be nice to meet the lady. You clearly have a type, you know?\"\n\n Ehkan rolled his eyes and followed him downstairs to meet with Vayra. \"Greetings,\" Limnet said in Infernal, his grin widening as he took her in. \"I am the owner of this fine store and a friend of Ehkan. I must tell you, you are the only lady he has ever brought to meet me, and what a lady you are, my dear.\"" }, { "author": "Vayra Vakara", "message": "_The Tiefling's focus on attire and animated mannequins soon came to a clean halt upon the steps of the incoming pair. Golden eyes flickering to the more familiar Ehkan then to the mysteryious Tailor with the favour owed. A smile shared, all the same. Ever ignorant to the words shared in that room upstairs._\n\n_Infernal, a familiar tongue that caused Vayra's eyes to widen before flashing a friendlier smirk. Surprise riddled upon the revelation, she couldn't help but tease a glance back to Ehkan while returning reply in Infernal._\n\n\"The only one, huh..? Heh, you're too kind! Ehkan wasn't lying when he said this place was nice. Oh! I'm Vayra, Mister..?\" _Vayra offered quickly, appropriately taking a step forward to the pair, comfortable in her spot. Regardless, she awaited the introduction of this Tailor._\n\n\"Oh, you're too kind. Limnet, my dear. And Ehkan here tells me you might require some clothing. Suiting.. Alynthian manners.\" _The Satyr replying with a hearty chuckle, but in no way meaning to insult. The Tiefling seemed to nod along, a hand carefully plucking at her cloak with an awkward snicker to follow it._ \n\n\"Oh, I sometimes forget how Solaris tends to offer less of her heat in other places, heh. I would love to have a dress for Alynthi, yes. And Ehkan says you're the expert! I'd so love to see what you can do.\"_ - _Vayra playing into her friendliness, her offer soon accepted by the acknowledgement and a beckon by the Satyr tailor to follow him to another of the rooms._\n\n_Vayra would briefly stop to look to Ehkan, tilting her head and offering some words in common._ \n\n\"..Wait here, okay? Let me surprise you, mhm?\" _Playful, and ever marked with the smile of the Tiefling. With that, she followed along by the beckon of the Satyr. Off to find the suitable dress, and whatever else a Tailor had to do.._" }, { "author": "Ehkan Noran Kippat", "message": "Ehkan watched Limnet wander off before turning his attention back to Vayra, and he stared at her in silence as the more defensive part of his mind started flaring up. This day, this adventure was turning out beautifully, but many valid questions revolved around this lady. \n\n Sure, her story was the same as many who were too trusting of map salesmen, but at the same time, who was to say he hadn't just led a spy of Khisfire leisurely into the capital? \n\n The chances were slim though. If she were a spy of Khisfire she would never have followed a man such as Ehkan through the forest. Honestly, he felt a pang of guilt even thinking such a thing of her like that, that was the sort of derogatory words they threw at Ehkan when he first came here... But, he could not, as an adventurer and a guardian, have these questions unanswered. \n\n So, when Limnet came back with a dress, which was so beautiful Ehkan almost wanted to add a sort of payment for his services, he decided that the rest of this adventure would be spent with no interruptions anymore. \n\n \"I feel this might be a tad too forward, but maybe after a small tour through the city, you would like to come over to my... Home. For dinner ofcourse, I know more Khisfirian recipes than the city has to offer. In all honesty, they have yet to understand that spice is meant to be scalding, not mild.\"" }, { "author": "Vayra Vakara", "message": "_The bright smile of the Tiefling reflected well with her choice of dress. Far more suited to the climate of Alynthi, a colourful array of light blue dashed with a flowery pattern. Form fitting at the upper region, the skirt length shorter than typical but offering a loose length to move in. If she were to twirl, such a dress would only enhance such a movement. Ever fitting for the energetic Vayra, and the performer close at heart. Lightly heeled pumps accompanied the outfit, all offered by the good graces of the Tailor._\n\n_Her approval noted, but of course Vayra couldn't help but await Ehkan's reaction. A shyness noted, but not before interrupted by that sudden offer. No, that invitation._\n\n\"Oh..?\" _A brief silence hit the Illusionist. A moment to think, lost in the haze. Vayra, with her newly Alynthi dress, stood in thought. Awkward to refuse, awkward to accept. But soon, the glint of a keen smile as she stepped forward._ \n\n\"Only if I get to be a harsh critic! Heh, come on! And thank you so much for the dress, Limnet!\" _Vayra replied kindly, leaving the answer in a haze of their travels. More striking however, would be the hand she essentially forced upon his as she rather cheekily led the two out into the City sights!_\n\n_Naturally Ehkan would return to leading, and enjoy their time they did. Vayra, absorbed by the many stores and marketplaces. The statues and artists, performers and the like earning some measure of playful dance from Vayra herself. Enjoyment, a keen type as hours passed and the City winded down to near night life. And of course, the offering of Ehkan's home eventually accepted through soft smiles and acknowledging nods._ \n\n_Led off to his home, allowing Ehkan to take lead. From streets to a door, and there they finally arrived._" }, { "author": "Ehkan Noran Kippat", "message": "It had been ages since Ehkan had a lady at his home, his dinner dates were in the many restaurants the city had to offer, and he often followed that dinner with an inn. His home was usually only visited by members of the Guild who wished to drop off essential messages without having to go through other messages, but sometimes, letters were dropped off, one laid on the floor with the House of Lions wax seal staring up at him. \n\n Ehkan picks it up but does not open it, not with her present. He doesn't do well to hide his grim expression as he shoves it into his pocket while getting his keys, but he places a smile on his face as he opens the door for them. \"I am almost certain I have arranged my house, though it has been a while since I came back, with the constant travel I often forget I have this place.\" He walks in, and fortunately, there is nothing out of place, in fact, it looks cleaner than he left it. \"Ah. Maybe someone sent a maid while I was gone.\" No doubt his old neighbor who he helped from time to time. \n\n He gestures to a mat with cushions in the parlor, it is a replica of the common Khisfirian furniture amongst the Alynthi sofas that surrounded it, he actually preferred it because at times he could just lie down and drift off into sleep. He believes Vayra would also find it comfortable. Comfortable enough to let her guard down a bit.\n\n\"Please sit, I'll find us something to drink.\" He leaves her in the parlor and goes into his pantry, there are still things here he can cook, but that comes later, for now, he lifted an aged wine from a shelf and snatches two glasses on his way back. \n\n He dropped on the mat with grace, folding his legs beneath, then popped the cork off with his teeth before handing her a glass. \"So, I feel the need to ask though, besides the travels, what else do you do? Maybe we can exchange stories, I have many people who find thrm interesting." } ]	416	3,602
691.176471	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Lady Vierna Argith", "message": "The City Square of the Capital Alynthi, a powerful and busy sight perfect for those curious of the very land they travelled to. Commoners, merchants, and the travelling guard or Noble was quite the present sight. Travellers from Wayshrine, or by the busy road, all connected to the Capital. \n\nOne particular individual had set this as her personal goals, for the Grand Capital of Alynthi had long been a symbol of controversy and divide within her own people. The Drow traveller, hooded and often careful had sought this land for a reason otherwise kept for those she trusted, for the supposedly affluent traveller was more than just the veil she hid behind. A Noble Lady, one who if she came with escort in tow would likely have been sent away due to their current divisions. \n\nCareful enough not to cause a stir with the guards, the unarmed figure travelled carefully to catch the very sights this land had to offer. From the designs of the buildings, to the array of statues dotted of Patron Gods or otherwise Alynthian heroes - it was quite the spectacular sight. \n.\n\nIn Drowish nature, quiet judgement stirred but she had fully intended to rid herself of the ignorant label. A layer of questions signalled in her thoughts - Was Alynthi truly a threat to Lazaroth? Was it better off here, than home? A quiet checklist rang out in thought but truly she struggled to find those answers at a simple glance, much more as the bickering of others around only furthered the other reasoning behind her visit. - Midelia. A travelling companion she met in Findara, a shy creature she otherwise convinced to accompany her. Of course, slight complications in the trip and a perhaps cruel diversion into Khisfire split them apart from eachother, but the coming reunion was organised here. Truthfully, she wouldn't know if Midelia had even made it. Was it all pointless, was she too late? She had some patience to wait however.. \n\nFinding the comfort of a public garden area just neighbouring the City Square, the curious Drow watched quietly. The urge to converse with others was quite keen, yet she knew better than to draw too much attention in the very Capital." }, { "author": "The Tale Weaver", "message": "A massive shadow zipped over Vierna, most definitely too quick to be a cloud. It wasn't uncommon, flying races going to and fro across the capital, most commonly aasimar. But this shadow circled back and stopped just above the drow woman. Descending down just angled perfectly so the light would prevent Vierna from seeing who or what it was, a being landed around ten feet away from where the drow woman found herself resting. Furrowing his feathers, the creature turned out to be a beautiful snow owl aarakocra. From the pin on his shirt, it was clear he was a decorated member of The Sky Messengers, and clearly had a message for Vierna. Approaching with a simple wave, the aarakocra dipped his head in greeting.\n\n\"Greetings, my lady. I have a letter addressed to one Lady Vierna Argith. If you don't mind, I'm just going to quickly confirm your identity to ensure I am delivering this parcel to the correct individual.\" With a smile on his pointed beak, the aarakocra held out the necklace in front of Vierna, and it became clear there was a magical enchantment upon it; a locater spell. The necklace was one Vierna would easily recognize, one of the symbol of Lunam, the God of the Moon. A gift from her aunt from what could be considered a lifetime ago now. The closer it drew to Vierna the more brightly the glow pulsated, confirming the identity of Vierna for the messenger. \"Seems your aunt's locater spell worked like a charm, my lady. Here you are.\"\n\nMoving his hands to retrieve a letter from the bag at his side, the owl extended his hand outward for Vierna to take the letter as well as the necklace, given it was no longer his to keep. Once the drow woman retrieved the letter, the aarakocra bowed his deeply in respect before taking flight once more, off to likely deliver numerous more messages elsewhere.\n\nThe letter itself, read as follows.\n_ _\n\n```𝒯𝑜 𝓂𝓎 𝒹𝑒𝒶𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝒩𝒾𝑒𝒸𝑒, 𝒱𝒾𝑒𝓇𝓃𝒶.\n\n𝐼𝓉 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓈 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓈𝓊𝒹𝒹𝑒𝓃 𝓊𝓇𝑔𝑒𝓃𝒸𝓎, 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝐼 𝓌𝓇𝒾𝓉𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒾𝓃 𝒹𝒾𝓇𝑒 𝓃𝑒𝑒𝒹. 𝐵𝑒 𝒾𝓉 𝒱𝒾𝓋𝒾𝒶𝓃𝒶'𝓈 𝒾𝓃𝓃𝑒𝓇 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈, 𝒶 𝑔𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉 𝒹𝒾𝒻𝒻𝒾𝒸𝓊𝓁𝓉𝓎 𝒽𝒶𝓈 𝒷𝑒𝓈𝑒𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒟𝓊𝒸𝒽𝓎 𝑜𝒻 𝒮𝓎𝓋𝒶𝓇𝑒𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝐹𝒶𝓂𝒾𝓁𝓎 𝓃𝒶𝓂𝑒. \n\n𝐼 𝒽𝑜𝓅𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓉𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓁𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒹𝓈 𝒾𝓉𝓈𝑒𝓁𝒻 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓇𝑒𝓂𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒹𝒾𝓈𝒸𝓊𝓈𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝓊𝒹𝓎 𝓇𝑜𝑜𝓂𝓈. 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒽𝒾𝓈𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎 𝑜𝒻 𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝐹𝒶𝓂𝒾𝓁𝓎, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑔𝓇𝑜𝓌𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓃𝑒𝑒𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓃𝑔𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝐼 𝓂𝓎𝓈𝑒𝓁𝒻 𝓈𝓉𝓇𝒾𝓋𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝑒𝓂𝓅𝑜𝓌𝑒𝓇. 𝐼𝓉 𝒾𝓈 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓈𝒶𝒹𝓃𝑒𝓈𝓈, 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝐼 𝒻𝑒𝒶𝓇 𝐼 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒻𝒶𝒾𝓁𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓉𝒶𝓈𝓀. 𝑀𝓎 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝒸𝑒 𝒾𝓈 𝓈𝒽𝒶𝓀𝓎, 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝑀𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝑒𝓃 𝓅𝑜𝒾𝓈𝑜𝓃, 𝒶 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝓅𝑒𝓇𝒶𝓉𝑒 𝒿𝑒𝒶𝓁𝑜𝓊𝓈𝓎 𝒸𝓁𝓊𝓉𝒸𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝓉 𝒽𝑒𝓇. 𝐼𝓉 𝒽𝒶𝓈 𝓈𝒾𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓅𝒶𝓈𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓂𝓎 𝑜𝓌𝓃 𝒻𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓈 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝑒𝓃 𝓂𝒶𝒹𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓎, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓈𝑜 𝐼 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓌𝓇𝑜𝓉𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓁𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇.```\n\n```𝒲𝒾𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓈𝓊𝒹𝒹𝑒𝓃 𝓅𝒶𝒸𝓀𝒶𝑔𝑒 𝐼 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓈𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝒾𝓈 𝒶 𝒹𝑒𝑒𝒹, 𝒶 𝓁𝑒𝑔𝒾𝓉𝒾𝓂𝒶𝒸𝓎 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒸𝓁𝒶𝒾𝓂 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓂𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓉𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝓊𝓅. 𝐿𝑜𝓃𝑔 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝐼 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓈𝒾𝒹𝑒𝓇𝑒𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓈 𝒶𝓃 𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓇 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓉𝒾𝓉𝓁𝑒, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝐼 𝒹𝒾𝒹 𝓈𝑜 𝓌𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝒾𝓉 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹𝓃'𝓉 𝓉𝒶𝓂𝓅𝑒𝓇 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝑜𝓌𝓃 𝒿𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓃𝑒𝓎𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝓇𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝒶𝒾𝓃𝓁𝒶𝓃𝒹. 𝐼 𝓌𝒾𝓈𝒽𝑒𝒹 𝐼 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓈𝓅𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒, 𝓉𝑜 𝒽𝑒𝓁𝓅 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓁𝓁𝑒𝓃𝑔𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓂𝑜𝓃𝓊𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒶𝓁 𝓉𝒶𝓈𝓀. 𝒩𝑜𝓌 𝐼'𝓋𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝑒𝓃 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝒸𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝓎 𝓂𝓎 𝒽𝒶𝓃𝒹. \n\n𝒟𝑒𝒶𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝒱𝒾𝑒𝓇𝓃𝒶, 𝐼 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑔 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓈𝒾𝒹𝑒𝓇𝑒𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓈 𝓂𝓎 𝑜𝓌𝓃. 𝒜 𝑔𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉 𝓈𝒾𝓃 𝒽𝒶𝓈 𝒷𝑒𝑒𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓃𝑒𝑔𝓁𝑒𝒸𝓉 𝒾𝓃 𝓅𝒶𝓈𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒹𝒾𝒹 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝑒𝓇𝓋𝑒. 𝒯𝓇𝓊𝓁𝓎, 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝐼 𝑜𝒻𝒻𝑒𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝒾𝓈 𝒶 𝒹𝑒𝓂𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝐼 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹𝓃'𝓉 𝒷𝑒 𝒶𝓁𝓁𝑜𝓌𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝒶𝓀𝑒, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝐼 𝓀𝓃𝑒𝓌 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹𝓈 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒾𝒹𝑒𝒶𝓁𝓈 𝒸𝓁𝑜𝓈𝑒𝓁𝓎 𝓂𝒾𝓇𝓇𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂 𝑜𝒻 𝓂𝓎 𝑜𝓌𝓃. 𝐼 𝒶𝓈𝓀 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒸𝓁𝒶𝒾𝓂 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒟𝓊𝒸𝒽𝓎, 𝒶𝓈 𝒾𝓈 𝓇𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉𝒻𝓊𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈. 𝒮𝑒𝑒𝓀 𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒬𝓊𝑒𝑒𝓃, 𝒮𝑒𝑒𝓀 𝒜𝓁𝓁𝒾𝑒𝓈. 𝐼 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓃𝑜 𝒹𝑜𝓊𝒷𝓉 𝒾𝓉 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒷𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝑔𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉 𝒹𝒾𝒻𝒻𝒾𝒸𝓊𝓁𝓉𝓎, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓃𝑒𝑒𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓈𝓊𝒸𝒸𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝒾𝓈 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝒶𝓂𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓈𝓉𝓇𝓊𝑔𝑔𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝐹𝒶𝓂𝒾𝓁𝓎. \n\n𝒲𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓊𝓇𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝒹𝑒𝓁𝒾𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎, \n\n𝒟𝓊𝒸𝒽𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝐻𝒶𝑒𝓁𝓁𝒾𝒸𝒶 𝐼𝒸𝓇𝒾𝓁 𝒜𝓇𝑔𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝑜𝒻 𝒮𝓎𝓋𝒶𝓇𝑒𝓉𝒽𝑒```" }, { "author": "Lady Vierna Argith", "message": "Perhaps it would have been quite the simple task to spot the sizeable Dryad, the wandering Midelia having found her way in these familiar gardens. Yet, the brief shadow that loomed over the spectating Drow would now catch her full attention. Sudden, and unexpected. Her reaction as a result would be one of confusion at first, a perk from the brow of one otherwise trying best to keep away from garnering too much attention - delivery by a messenger would not be one such thing to reach that role. Noting the pin, then the bow, Vierna struggled for words until the Aarakocra made keen mention of her in the titles of the Nobility. A needy hand raised in a hushing motion, but subtle and attempting to quieten him down. Of course, not succeeding in the slightest.\n\n\"Please, Sir, you have me mi-\" Was all Vierna could offer before the Messenger seeked verification, and out sprung a flash back to the past. The very design of that necklace he revealed, of the God Lunam. A gift when she was younger, one by her very Aunt that the Messenger referenced..\n.\n\nThe pieces started to fit, a slow realisation that only furthered this confusing arrangement. A hand instinctively reached to fetch both necklace and letter, it marked by the insignia she most feared. - It was her Aunt's doing, no simple Lady but the very Duchess of Syvarethe. That, to her, spelled a mixture of hope or worry. Regardless, as the Messenger flew off, the composure of the Drow soon lingered back on the letter. The chase for the Dryad hung quiet in that manner, not even aiming to free herself from the quiet stares of potential Alynthi onlookers. It would simply be her and the sigil of the Family crest that marked the letter of affluent design. \n\nFor Midelia, if she were within these very gardens, the gossip of a Reputable Messenger delivering to some Drow would be noted. Meanwhile, Vierna remained left to flutter through the fanciful handwriting of her Aunt. The words that were so important as to disrupt her own time of travel, and sent from such a far distance. Every scan of a word soured her expression. Worry, a look she rarely ever showed so blatantly. - That charismatic facade brought to heel by the ink that stained paper. It would drive her to silence, perhaps offering Midelia the chance to get the jump on her.\n\nThe growing gossip proved very little in deterring the driven Drow, head lowered and buried in the flurry of words, a handwriting distinctly familiar. A flurry of emotion carried her actions, a puzzle of thought that only concluded that this letter to her, was something of an entirely serious nature. \n\nOf course, no Alynthi commoner would deter her but the ever so sudden shift of Midelia was a foe like no other. Head lowered, the flicker of her blueish gaze would find that final falter in the sudden appearance of an earthly face sprouting in her vision.\n\n\"Wuh!-\"\n\n Instinct rose, a shift back in shock away from the bench into a brief stagger. Letter gripped by her right hand, Vierna's blatant show of shock scanned this sudden figure. The voice was familiar, the appearance far more noticeable. That brief lack of composure wouldn't return however, a souring of the Drow's expression as she sulked in her place. - \"Midelia.. Did you have to scare me like that? Lunam, give me strength..\" Vierna offered in a far less Lady-like fashion, the Noble brought to irritation momentarily until her anger started to cease. By the grip of her letter, the motion of her very form, clearly she was tense. Perhaps it was a surprising look, the Drow who typically seemed masterful in her wit. \n\n\"You.. You made it, Midelia. I was worried you got lost.\" Words added with more composure in mind, an unconscious move to pocket away her letter slowly shifted into action - only the light dangle of that necklace remaining in her hand." }, { "author": "Midelia Protunshast", "message": "```Midelia would straighten herself again, seeing she had definitely caught Vierna by total surprise. A slight shock would be in her face as the usually elegant drow would reduce herself to her more primal flight or fight instincts. Yet it would swiftly end as the Vierna she knew popped out more, a slight smile would appear on Midelia's face as she offers a slight bow to the drow.```\n\nAh-ah apologies i t-tend to blend in a lot.\n\n```With a slight apology at her recent scaring tactic the fae would tilt her head slightly as she observes the elf before her, it was obvious that she was tense perhaps due to her sudden appearance? Midelia wasn't sure of it, there might be something more to it. But the introverted spirit decided not to really fish too deep, they have just met again best enjoy that moment while it lasts.```\n\nW-well i used a wa-wayshrine, horrific exp-experience but i did get here. We probably should have decid-decided on a meeting point it w-was sheer lu-luck that i found you rea-really.\n\n```The stuttering fae would say in response to Vierna her worrying statement. She would have her arms behind her back grabbing onto each other, as she slowly but surely walks around the bench and infront of Vierna. It was obvious that Midelia had gained quite a confidence boost since the last time they met, yet it was also still painstakingly obvious that it was still Midelia. Doing her best to make herself look small and insignificant, the introverted and shy side of her was still very much in power.```\n\nI-i heard something of a drow receiving a messag-message and well i quickly thought of you." }, { "author": "Lady Vierna Argith", "message": "The first words she found quite humorous, the gardens being rather the Dryad's only solace from the walled confines of the Capital. So there, for now, she had blended in. Convenient to find a garden to meet with a Dryad. \n\n\"Mh..\" \n\nThe Drow gave a quick look up and down at the friendly Dryad, perhaps missing that look from the boiling sands of Khisfire. No, all she could find there was the keen company and the fancy garbs. But soon that faint smile would return, dignified and offering that soft Drowish judgement perhaps Midelia had become used to now. - She certainly seemed different. \n\n\"A wayshrine..? Did the Forests not suit you, Midelia? You seem to work so well in such a dwelling..\" The Drow hummed in thought, soft hands moving up to brush up on her travelling attire that felt a slight issue due to her sudden shuffling. \"- And perhaps, yes.. But Viviana seemed to desire our meeting to be a simple one.. You.. Heard gossip of a Drow, receiving a message?\" Her last words were offered with some caution, a puzzling thought at how loud her amazon delivery bird had been. Of course, it seemed to simply remind her of the very letter that remained on her person. \n\n\"I.. That must have been me. Mh - You seem different..\" Her words left some mystery, allowing Midelia to interpret it negative or positive however she wished.\n\nThe Noble Drow took extra care in the words that Midelia offered, finally finding some balance of composure and concern for the letter that now lingered in her thoughts. It seemed the Dryad would be the perfect distraction, a tale in particular always spiced up the mood. \n\nIt would come to some surprise at the amount of words Midelia offered her, a slight shattering of that shy bubble that seemed to limit them on their first ever meet. But the tale itself was almost intriguing in its own right.\n\n\"A Half Human Doctor..? Lucky he's found himself in Findara. Any Lazarothian would have snatched him given the opportunity..\" Vierna offered perhaps cruelly. Both a human and a Doctor, a particular mix that seemed rare in Vierna's eyes. Slavery was a normal concept to her, afterall, and half humans within her homeland rarely got the considerations of a free life given their value as servants or other sorts. Though, it seem to amuse her with that sly little smile. \n\n\"So you came with them through the Wayshrine? Are they preparing to jump at me, too..? Or, parted ways.. A brave move for one not use to the City life, Midelia. That's what I'd call development, heh.\"\n\nVierna didn't seem to care to delve into this expedition talk, her thoughts already far too distracted by the notions of the letter. It would only be the question offered in return, in mention of Khisfire. \n\n\"Oh, Khisfire.. It was worth the trip. The people, the goods they sold.. Oh, you should have seen their style of clothing. Suited for the weather, very little to hide. Proud in showing themselves off, it seems. - A trait I must admire.\"\n\nVierna of course spun passing thoughts like some tourist, yet of course hiding away details she otherwise enjoyed keeping a secret. It would not just be her secret to keep, afterall, the trust placed on her by another. \n\n\"But that weather, God's.. Living so long in Lazaroth, I'm not used to the Celestial Sibling of Lunam.\" Added with a playful scoff, her fanciful words of course meant the very Sun that scorched the Khisfire sands. \n\n\"The.. Bickering about the Drow with a letter. It was just that, right..? Nothing else..?\" A sudden questioning by Vierna, a brief composure temporarily slipped to show the tenseness revealed before. My, there was something about her with this message. As of now, unclear to those around." }, { "author": "Midelia Protunshast", "message": "```She would sti there for a moment pondering on what the drow said, she seemed to be rather interested in the half-human. But quickly change her point back to the ethereal wayfinder, it seemed Vierna has never used one before in her life if she asked a question like that. A slight chuckle would come from Midelia as she responds to that part of Vierna's question, her soft stuttering voice making itself known.```\n\nY-you can only travel by one! He is somewhere ar-around here.\n\n```Then she would listen with keen interest at Vierna her story about Khisfire, it seemed to be an enjoyable detour. Midelia hated such places the heat and the sand it's all simply strange and opposite to what she adored, she was glad she didn't come along with them. Vierna on the other hand seemed to adore such a detour.```\n\nY-yes it was nothing else just s-some drow getting a letter.\n\n```With seriousness in her voice the dryad would speak, trying her best not to stutter too much she would make it clear that nothing else was said and that it simply was some gossip by the locals a rather normal occurrence seeing well the circumstances.```\n\n```Her jade eyes would stare closer at Vierna, in this city's atmosphere the drow would fit in a lot more even in a park such as this. While Midelia would be the strange one, almost like in Hyburn. Yet for once the fae wouldn't feel fully uncomfortable she has grown to get used to this environment, unfortunately for her that doesn't mean she likes this type of environment at all.```\n\nY-you do l-look qu-quite shocked wh-what's wrong? Di-did i surprise you tha-that much?\n\n```The stuttering autumn-spirit would say in a calm and very shy fashion, you can simply smell the uncertainty in her voice as she says this. Midelia doesn't want to step on Vierna's toes or too deep into her business, hence she does her best to be careful.```" }, { "author": "Lady Vierna Argith", "message": "A playful pout marked her expression by that mocking chuckle from Midelia, a brow perked in thought on the topic of Wayshrines. Oh, she would not be played so simply, quickly adding with a flick of her hand. - \"And you couldn't have waited for him after you passed through..? Heh, oh well..\" \n\nThe unfortunate trait of her ego obviously showed herself there, a struggle for her to have to appear the more foolish one. Of course, there would be no malice behind it but the more friendlier tones a Drow could offer. But topics changed, and the remark on the gossip about her seemed to relax her senses atleast for a moment or so. \n\n- \"Mm.. Oh, good. Better it stays that way..\" A simple remark, shrouded by the contents of that very letter. \n\nVierna stood casually now, a passing glance fluttering away in the Alynthi background. - Merchants, crowds, the style of buildings she had been inspecting since her time here. All seemed a keen distraction, until eventually that sidelong glance returned to the Dryad who inspected her. The Drow's style hadn't changed too distinctly since their travel, the adventuring leathers of one affluent yet not so far as to say Noble. Made on purpose, much to other's discovery. \n.\n\nAnd there came concern from the friendly Dryad, a slight narrow from Vierna quietly judging Midelia's question. It was a moment of weakness for her, a ponder as to what she might say. The Drow expected she could so easily divert the conversation by joking about the little stunt of scaring her, but truly she lacked many confidants within the mainland. A letter she herself struggled to contain. - a need to vent was clear, but caution was an utmost importance to her. \n\n\"It's not just your confidence that's been helped. I can sense that boldness in you, too. It's.. About the letter. A truth I don't often share about myself. But-\" A rather commanding wag of her finger waved towards the Dryad, a playful seriousness to her tone clear. \"- You will say nothing of this to anyone, hm? And we need to find a place quieter. Understand..?\"" }, { "author": "Midelia Protunshast", "message": "```A slight step back at the comment, Midelia would laugh a bit as she does her best to rebute the comment. Her stuttering voice coming into the world again as the fae speaks uncertainty paramount in her voice, yet Midelia would push onwards as she responds to the claim she left the half-human behind. Such a claim was simply false, and Midelia would react to it!```\n\nA-ah no no, h-he went in first he had important business. S-so he went through the f-flame first, a-and we prom-promised to see ea-each other again somewh-where here so no i di-did not leave him behind.\n\n```With a slight step forth Midelia would move a bit closer to Vierna the dryad looking down onto the drow, she would observe the movements of the dark elf as it's obvious the note of the message awakens some sort of insecurity or uncertainty inside Vierna. Midelia her face would offer slight comforting smile as she listens to what Vierna had to say about it. Midelia her concerns would clearly be friendly as she only seemed interested in what the newly anointed Duchess says.```\n\nAh it's j-just common goss-gossip you wou-would've said the same.\n\n```Her head would tilt a bit as the drow seemed to think about the letter, her head moving around and the uncertainty was almost clear. The fae would simply remain calm her body language would show the dryad was patient, her arms behind her back her legs close together and her back straightened again she would simply await the drow's answer for a bit as she isn't certain what Vierna might say. An outburst perhaps? Or perhaps an admition that she needs to vent?```\n\n```And there it would be the statement, to keep it confident to keep it between the two and to bring it somewhere more private. All rather understandable in the mind of autumn-spirit, Midelia her speculations were confirmed. The letter that was given seemed to be quite important to the knife ear in front of her, but more Midelia didn't really know as of yet. For now she would nod her head, her leaf hair moving with her up and down, up and down. Her mouth would open again and offer a reply, the stuttering for once would be gone and a stern seriousness would be found in her voice. One Vierna hasn't seen yet.```\n\nOf course, where ever you desire we can talk about it there." }, { "author": "Lady Vierna Argith", "message": "And so Vierna's belief had been wrong, though not entirely of her own fault. The subtle details of important business had now been told, something perhaps good to know later down the line. Vierna would show off no defeat by her assumption, almost a pleased smile as if she sussed out more than met the eye. - \"Heh, what little details can do to change a story. I understand, now. I'd hoped you intend to introduce me to this Half Human, atleast?\" Vierna spoke plainly, that elegance returning with a hint of want. A Half Human Doctor was certainly a sight, as rare in Lazaroth as a Drow Noble was in Alynthi. Or a Dryad in a City.. Really, so many rarities appeared on this interesting day. \n\nOf course, the Drow passively watched Midelia's shift back then return to approach, despite her boost in confidence it seemed quite clear the influence this Drow had on her; for better or worse. \n\n\"Oh, would I? Are you calling me a gossiper, Midelia? Tch, the cheek, heh.\" A playfulness returned, her tone clearly indicating that she indeed was a gossiper. That smile would remain to indicate her lack of seriousness well enough, a gentle step forward watching the Dryad. \n\nAnd perhaps most surprising, was the reaction of her Fae Companion. Not a stutter came in response to her more serious declaration, almost like she took this shy nature as a deceptive tool. It made her ponder, considering whether trust was at the key to a Dryad's life; or if she earned such a privilege with Midelia. There would be no words in reply after her brief thought, instead a simple smile and a nod. \n\nLooking away, Vierna would search for her much desired quiet, a careful scan of the area about. The Marketplace? Far too busy. The City Square? Not a chance. No, after a few brief glances around in their garden space would she find a pathway deeper into this garden area. It seemed quiet enough, not bothering to debate on it as she gestured with her hand and walked onwards to this supposedly silent region." }, { "author": "Midelia Protunshast", "message": "```The dryad wouldn't really poke Vierna too much anymore as she notices the pouty drow trying to rectify the situation, Midelia would nod and laugh it off as she straightens herself following the she-elf. She would follow rather closely behind the elf, Vierna would feel a sense of safety perhaps or one of fear. The large tree behind her might be quite terrifying.```\n\nU-uh sure i can s-see if h-he wishes for that... He is a rather strange one a do-doctor much like me but one much younger and more exp-experimental.\n\n```At the notice of Midelia being accused of being a gossiper she would turn slightly red at least her cheeks would, the slight turning of her head as she is unsure how to really respond or handle such a playful accusations. Her mind would race between answers or solutions, ah and she would have thought of one! Her shy voice would struggle bringing it out but here goes nothing.```\n\nI-i mean yo-you are an e-elf, they are known for being quite talky aren't they?\n\n```She would think about the quiet spot Vierna was speaking about and decides to take it into her own hands for the time being, grabbing Vierna unexpecting by the shoulder with one hand. Using the other she would raise it in the sky as green energies flow out and soon roots would pop up from the ground surrounding both in a small place rather close together but very private.```" }, { "author": "Lady Vierna Argith", "message": "A brief snicker came to pass from the Drow, a passing glance moving back towards Midelia at her remark towards this Half Human Doctor. - \"Heh, I would hope he'd be younger, Midelia. From what I know, kin of mankind often have a struggling mortality. Barely a hundred years of age, usually.\" - Of course, she heard much of the gossip about the species. It had been thousands of years since their dominance as a species and subsequent annihilation. Still, it was an amusing thought that passed along as Midelia attempted to justify her words. Really, not needed at all, shown by the amused smirk that lay on Vierna's face. \n\n\"Oh, are they..? I think you may have a point there..\" - A simple shrug came to mind, for the talk of a private matter seemed far more important as she trapsed through the garden. \n\nWhat came next seemed most surprising. A quick halt came as that nature-clad grip would be felt against her shoulder - brow perked in clear confusion. No words would be offered to ease that tension however, instead forced to witness the sudden sprout of roots all around them. The Drow blinked, clearly in surprise at Midelia's action. \n\n\"I.. You better hope this doesn't draw the guards..\" Vierna flickered a judgemental gaze before inspecting the roots, a hand casually reaching up to pluck at one of the roots carefully. \"But.. Smart.\"" }, { "author": "Midelia Protunshast", "message": "```The roots would be rather soft actually almost like touching hard elastic dirt, that's really the best way your fingers can describe the sensation yet you would also notice the other side of the roots would be a lot harder with the occasional sharp and most likely very painful spike on the roots. While on the inside there wouldn't be many they would still be there and quite capable of giving you a pierce if you aren't careful enough. All by all the root \"Shelter\" Midelia summoned would be around 3x2 meters in size, allowing you decent room to breath but at the same time pushing you quite close to Midelia. On the outside the structure would be mostly camouflaged with leaves and grass growing on it, it's almost like a big bush that has always been here.```\n\nF-fear not the guards can't d-differentiate such trivial things.\n\n```Being this close to the fae the smell of nature would be paramount it's almost like you've walked into a dense forest, which in all fairness you're standing next to a sentient tree so not too far off. Midelia would for now simply stare at you an inquisitive look on her face as she bows her head ever so slightly to better read your own emotions, and to await what you have to say. For the rest her stance would be as usual, arms behind her back legs close together.```\n\nS-so now we have the pr-privacy you wanted, i-i do not understand why. A simple letter made out of what once was a magnificent tree ca-can't be that stressful can it?\n\n```With that comment the ball would be in Vierna's side, as the fae simply awaits what she has to say. It was clear that she had grown quite a bit since last encounter it's almost like she leads the conversation at some points. Yet her stutter and often times insecure and uncertain looks and voice would give away that she wasn't fully out of her shell, and most likely never will be. For this entire adventure she has been through Midelia still remains a rather introverted creature.```" }, { "author": "Lady Vierna Argith", "message": "Perhaps taking that moment to doubt Midelia's opinion on Alynthi guards, the conversation moved far too quickly for her to argue. The ball was indeed in her court, as the Dryad probed upon the letter in question and the very reasoning for this privacy. \n\nA quiet hum sounded, a slight ease back as she took in that intoxicating smell of nature - something she neither liked nor disliked at the given time. If explanation was what Midelia wanted, she'd get it. Vierna of course was a creature of want, and often venting about her own life was a clear way to find it. \n\n\"Tst, it's more the words contained, Midelia. A letter for me, one who you don't fully know. Intentionally, really.\" Vierna gave a simple look at the Dryad before swiping at her side, uncovering that fancy looking letter that taunted her. It's design was foreign, the symbols Lazarothian and bearing a crest almost akin to Royalty. The faint words that may have been spotted were all in Drowish, intended clearly for Vierna. And with a faint point at the symbol that marked it, would be the continuation of the Drow's words. - \"This symbol here, is.. Of a Family House. Mine, House Argith. A Noble House of Lazaroth.\" She went quiet in that moment to let the reveal sink in, a swift contemplation of her own thoughts for revealing such truths to the friendly tree. Safe, was perhaps a word she considered Midelia atleast. \n\nHer gaze soon returned to the letter, a brief look over the words as her tone seemed to sour. \"..And this letter, I never quite expected to get. It's.. From my Aunt. She's.. A ruler, persay. Of land, a.. Duchess, if you've heard the term?\" The Drow quietly found herself buried in the weeds, a brief fumble of her words to try and find some way of composing those thoughts. Soon, she'd just go and blatantly say it. \n\n.\n\n\"I.. She's handed me the right to it. She wants me.. To take over, which.. Which can only mean one thing. My Mother, she's.. She's done something bad, I don't know. And right when I'm trying to travel, Viviana's fate..\"\n\nThat composure lost itself nearing the end of her explanation, more a ramble that clearly showed her struggle to collect her thoughts." }, { "author": "Midelia Protunshast", "message": "O-of course it's not a cho-choice you need to make right now. Y-you are still very young and have much to see. T-take a night to think about yes?" }, { "author": "Lady Vierna Argith", "message": "Perhaps she saw the uselessness in holding out that letter, the foreign designs and even more strange words that remained not entirely uncovered due to the envelope. For a Dryad, she imagined that would have been quite the difficulty to decipher. Really, she started to consider her doubts in even asking, that fluster of emotion tense in her thoughts. Well, until those words with very little stutters seemed to flutter out simply for the Dryad.. \n\nIt seemed she wasn't the only one with secrets. This lack of stuttering, this smile, it did more to confuse her than reassure. The Drow offered a clear narrow of her eyes, finding it unbelievable that the more supportive tone came from.. Midelia? Oh, that deceptive tree. \n\n\"..No, no.. You can't just do that.\" Vierna commented in disbelief, reflective of her confusion as she watched those words turn from clear to a stutter again. - \"Stop.. Stop, already. Don't think you can just stutter your way to clarity then begin anew. Explain yourself.\" It was harsher than usual, that tone, clearly whatever this was it soured her thoughts." }, { "author": "Midelia Protunshast", "message": "I-i do hope you forgive me Vierna, i have let others more into my life and i have paid dearly for it...\n\n```With that the fae would turn around allowing you a look at her derriere and mainly her back, one of her arms would point at what seems to be a rather large scar wound. While bark has closed to wound it's still quite the nasty experience.```\n\nT-that is really w-why.\n\n```Turning around rather quickly again, she would do her best to keep her compossiure in the situation. She has never really shared this memory with others, as it still stings to this very day.```" }, { "author": "Lady Vierna Argith", "message": "The nervousness was perhaps justified given the Drow's sudden shift in tone. She hated being surprised, far more from one who she seemed to offer her trust to only to spin some sudden deception. Some fake stutter, an exaggerated shyness that made her appear weak and easy to trust. A terrifying prospect to offer her secrets to. Atleast, Vierna seemed justified with what she knew at the time. \n\n\"A Facade..?\" The very word troubled her thoughts, staring daggers into the Dryad. Despite how large Midelia was and how less shy she truly seemed, Vierna seemed to carry quite the influence for one who felt ever so scorned. She wanted to be dissapointed or insulted, feeling somewhat weak for not catching onto to these fake stutters. Of course, the Drow found it weird, perhaps some condition or something related to the Fae? Never the matter, as she watched Midelia struggle through her words to explain more of this truth.\n\nJudgemental stares looked over the Dryad as she turned around, the appearance of a scar settling on her back. Quite the sight, one that even startled her soured looks. Irritation seemed to ease, at least, the sight of perhaps guilt in her thoughts. Had she been so blunt with her, her Drowish nature getting the better of her? \n.\n\nSilence would loom over the pair for a moment or so, that mysterious contemplation found in Vierna who always seemed to like controlling a conversation. A subtle pause, an unclear response from Vierna as she looked over the Dryad with a tilt of her head. The nervousness of the Dryad would hopefully be eased however, as finally some way of words showed themselves in that calmer tone of the Noble. \n\n\"I.. I get it. But... What foolishness did you consider just throwing that out there, with not even an attempt to warn me? After I tell you of my own truth, you'd just.. Speak in that strange tone then stutter away again? Of course I'm annoyed. I thought I was offering my truth to some naive Dryad. Looks like I'm the naive one, instead.\" A final huff came to pass as she justified her irritation, leaning back against the roots with a tut and a tone of defeat. A hand seemed to brush against the root-filled wall, a gesture towards it. \"Let me out of this..\"\n\nAnger turned to frustration, then to an irritated calm as she distracted herself by stares into that green around her. The words that Midelia used to try and reassure her fell on deaf ears in that moment, barely an attempt to speak words from the Drow until the roots eventually returned to the soil. Forced to ease back by her lean, Vierna would soon set her sights on the familiar Alynthi gardens. Then, finally, some way of reply.\n\n\"Oh, it's safe 'for now', is it..? Oh, how thankful I am..\" - Interpreting that phrase as little more than a threat, the Drow clearly remained defensive with her sarcasm. It wasn't the harsh anger offered before, that familiar tone she offered in a friendly manner seeming to seep back in but only in her time. Forgiveness wasn't her strong suit, and especially in a most stressful time regarding her situation at Home. \n\nA scoff sounded at the addition by Midelia, a notable shake of her head but quick to cut off any sudden impulses. To her, ever since they first met, Vierna had seen this Dryad as a beacon of innocence. A shroud of shyness she wanted to bring to the Cities and awaken some confidence. To hear it was just some ploy, some clever little deception? It was disheartening to her. She understood why, but it would change very little.\n\n\"Enough.\" - Her tone was clear, stern. Brushing past the Dryad with a noticeable departure from the garden path, Vierna offered some more words simply after a few steps or two. \"I'm not going to fight with you, but I'm not tolerating this facade, either. If you say this is still you, then you have nothing to worry about acting as your true self. I'm going to find a good Tavern to rest, like you advised. Think about my own plans.\" There wasn't much to stop her now, that tone presently blunt but less so in the manner of anger. Her intention to leave the garden was clear, the Drow making her departure.\n\nThe sudden apology would be overheard while in mid departure, the Drow already focusing elsewhere at this rate, considering the letter as a token of clear importantance to her. It certainly effected her, the apology she took keenly, a hesitation in her step yet persisting until that desperate request to come with.. \n\nA fluster showed itself on her expression, a halt in her step and a quiet contemplation. This side long glance would return back to look upon the Dryad, watching her falter and struggle back into insecurity. Vierna felt a mix of both guilt and irritation, truly she never intended to act the caretaker and clearly by that sudden shift in tone she didn't need to be. Still, a momentary forgiveness covered her expression with a hum. Then, some eventual reply \n\n\"Seriously..?\" - Vierna questioned blatantly, her gaze flicking up and down along the struggling Dryad. It hardly seemed the facade, yet it only confused her more on Midelia's true situation. The Drow felt like she knew nothing, but of course felt some pity that all this had occurred under her own request to visit the Capital. Some leeway had to be offered, but ground rules notably showed themselves now for the ever blunt Drow. - \"Look, just.. Fine, okay? You can come with, but I don't want to hear a trace of that facade of yours, hm? Neither for me, nor any strangers we encounter. Tch..\" The demand had been made clear, Vierna not bothering to wait for some reply. Instead, she began to depart once more - a walk out from the gardens into the busy City Square of Alynthi." } ]	448	11,750
697.428571	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "_It's a rainy day today,_\n\nWalking these slums, one would be able to find meek and weary faces as the bounty hunter walked. Mud clung to their boots, the pitter-patter of water striking one's head and shoulders as they moved. This was a dangerous place, with many dangerous people just around the corner, waiting for their chance to commit something heinous. Passing by the rundown buildings, the Frogleg Tavern wasn't too far from view, and beside it, an even more rundown house. The roof had collapsed in, the door hardly hung to its hinges, and the windows barely kept any sort of integrity as one could simply worm their hand through the broken glass to open the window.\n\nStanding before the door of the house, it was hard to believe anybody even lived here. There was something wrong about this place. A sense of abandon washing over our bounty hunter as they stood in front of the door— a creaking and moaning whispering into the wind as the door gently swayed back and forth with the wind.\n\nHow long ago was this bounty hung up? Days— no, the paper was too warn and the crayon was fading. It has had to been weeks, maybe a month at most. It was disregarded, largely left ignored for such a long time, this bounty hunter was the first person to even entertain the idea a child could hand over ten thousand 'coin'. It hadn't even specified what sort of coin was in question, simply that there was an abundance.\n\nThe rain continues to downpour, and the weather was becoming rougher. The bounty hunter has the option to press onwards and question the child, or investigate the local area— the Frogleg Tavern was next door, after all.\n\nEyes are staring. Across the muddy road of the slums, a street urchin watches with dim eyes, all sense of purpose within their life deprived. Yet, they were staring, intently. Why?\n\n_What do you do?_" }, { "author": "captaincatnip", "message": "Pitter Patter Pitter Patter Pitter Patter...\n\nDroplets of rain rhythmically pelted Deyanira's hooded frame in steady beats, which was enough to simmer any underlying tension within her tenacious spirit. And for a bounty as delicate as this one, the Elf woman would require all alleviation to her rather thin amount of patience. Deyanira Caizerios was notably Not A fan of children, however, a notably Huge Fan of cats. From a mere glance at the bounty posted, it was simple and safe to assume it was posted by a child; written in crayon, shitty spelling, and an offer for an amount of coins that they likely did not possess. However, in an astonishing turn of events, Deyanira had not accepted the bounty for any grand amount of money. While the Warlock was evidently broke and in desperate need of gold as of late, a certain empathic love for cats had turned her soft. Therefore, the woman set aside her desire for a heap of gold and her distaste for tiny people in favor of sympathy—Sympathy for a fellow cat owner, for a fellow cat Lover. Deyanira's stern gaze flickered to behind her and within the intensity of her dark orbs, a glimpse of softness flashed at the sight of her own precious cat; Bandit. The firecat displayed a clear displeasure for the dreary weather, however, he was dutiful and loyal to his owner; therefore despite the dull dance of flames that cascaded off the feline, he continued to trot forward without hindrance. When Bandit caught the attention of Deyanira, he offered low \"Maow...\" Out and for a rare instance, the woman smiled in return. Though the moment of grace was fleeting, and soon enough, her sullen façade had returned in place of that smile. As adorable and precious as Bandit was to Deyanira, the firecat served a great purpose in life and particularly for situations such as this; where his enhanced sense of smell could possibly be the key to track down the missing cat. \n\nDeyanira grimaced at the sight of Frogleg Tavern ahead. Her recent memory of the place had been rather unpleasant... That weird fucking Waiter... Although with her cruel treatment and barrage of swears, she doubted that Seymour remained employed at the tavern for long; she likely had the foolish boy on the run to the next town in hopes to avoid such an unruly customer again. Not that Deya cared. There was a long, growing list of individuals the woman had burned in her fiery explosions of verbal abuse, and Seymour was no different. Regardless, she pressed forward to Frogleg Tavern without another thought of what was ahead. While the abandoned and decayed home next door had caught her attention, it was only briefly. The sight of poverty was nothing new to somebody like Deyanira; raised in the jungle and then thrown to the streets of Khisfire, she was numbly accepting of impoverishment. Another \"Maow...\" From behind Deya urged the thought that being indoors was much more agreeable than remaining in the turbulent downpour, which appeared to increase in intensity by the second. She had no reason to inspect the surroundings of Frogleg Tavern without further information and additionally, as far as she was aware, this bounty was nothing extremely serious; no dangerous criminal on the loose, no unhinged wizard lurking about, and no Danger. As paranoid as Deya was, she could reasonably accept when risk was not present. Though... Abruptly, the woman's brazen gaze Snapped To the set of eyes that seemed to dig deep into her soaked figure. Damn urchin... She thought upon greeting the stare of the child across the street. A bitter frown was given to the street urchin before she swirled her attention around to the Frogleg Tavern. The woman knew better than to waste her time with another child when she had other priorities in mind...\n\nDeyanira entered Frogleg Tavern." }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "_You enter the Frogleg Tavern,_\n\nThe inside was... Well, to be expected. Rundown tavern, bums with coin spending it on watered down ale and peanuts. There was a bard in the corner playing music for a quick penny— his music wasn't that great, one of the lute strings snapped, the fingering of the lute awfully sluggish, probably due to inebriation. When Deyanira stepped into the tavern, she immediately caught a few eyes— and she could tell what these men were thinking. _Woman._ They largely kept to themselves, no mustering courage to engage her— it seems she had this air about her that she wasn't willing to deal with none sense right now.\n\nBack in another far corner a group of 4 men— Beastwalkers of some variety, sporting different animal features, looked at Deyanira with suspicion. It was awfully queer for someone so equipped to be making their sweeps through these slums. The largest in the group, this Ox Beastwalker, took his tankard and brought it to his face, taking a long sip of his ale.\n\nThe barkeep would visible clean out a cup as Deyanira would approach. He was a Genasi, his head very literally on fire. He'd sport some nice clothing, gentleman's wear. White dress shirt, black overalls, and a bow tie. He had this aura of indifference about him— he seemed to command a level of authority in the Frogleg Tavern. Yes, he probably wasn't _only_ the barkeep, but the muscle as well.\n\nSpeaking with a Southern drawl, he would acknowledge Deyanira. \"Howdy. 'ow can I help ya today, missy?\" The fire Genasi had asked, already preparing a tankard of that watered down ale everyone has been drinking here. \"I know you ain't 'ere for booze, so, lets hear it.\" The barkeep would add, sliding the tankard to Deyanira. He didn't even ask if she wanted this, just _gave_ it. Seems he wanted to keep this customer happy, sensing she was trouble.\n\nPatrons mostly kept to themselves presently, that bard in the background still stringing away some sad quality tunes. Though, the eyes of the four beastwalkers were ever prying.\n\n_A tankard of ale sits in front of you._" }, { "author": "captaincatnip", "message": "The interior of the Frogleg Tavern was a stark contrast to the rampant downpour outdoors; quiet, warm, and imbued with an odd amount of stillness despite the decent amount of patrons. A scowling grimace filled Deyanira's features upon the attention she appeared to capture from the men within the room. Her immediate thought was What?— A question poised with sass and venom, and she made that no nonsense attitude apparent with a brazen sweep of her gaze upon the male onlookers. Her next immediate thought after tearing her dark eyes away from the creeps was Why?— Deya didn't consider herself attractive in the slightest but, she supposed any woman was subjected to this treatment regardless of beautiful looks. While the Warlock made way to the bar, her gaze only briefly caught the stares of suspicion from the group of Shapeshifters in the far corner. Rather than create another tense eye contact competition, she continued on her path to the barkeep yet noted the unsaid tension that began to spill into the room. Deya had plenty of enemies, she knew that. Perhaps these Shapeshifters were those but she had a priority to handle firstly. Though if a problem would arise, she wouldn't miss it even with her back turned around; both a benefit and crutch, Deyanira's paranoia always kept her on edge. A brief clench of her fists signaled her growing tolerance for such a greeting to her entry, after all, she usually never caught the attention of so many... \n\nDeyanira caught the mug of piss-poor ale in her hand as the barkeep slid it across the counter. Without a word nor greeting, she lifted the mug to her lips and sipped on the liquid; it might've been watered down ale but at the very least, it would help simmer her nerves. As she peeled the mug away from her lips, her gaze took in the sight of the Genasi man with... Admiration? Though, mostly for the blaze locks of hair he possessed. Deya had always thought if she could be a different Race, it would Have To be a Fire Genasi. It just seemed to click in her brain perfectly. However, that look would likely be the only softness she'd spare for the evening because after a fleeting moment, a solemn expression rejoined her face. Deyanira, on her trend of surprises today, paused before she answered his question. After all, she realized that blurting out \"Have you seen a kid around?\" Likely would garner her a reputation she did Not Desire. Paranoia continued to poke the back corners of her mind as well, reminding the woman to remain on her toes while the group of Shapeshifters' stares seemed to burn into her frame. She couldn't let onto her priorities of being here, at least not aloud while an audience lurked onwards. While normally the mighty huntress, she was beginning to feel like Prey And she Despised That. Therefore, she twisted her mindset to that of a tactful predator; she had no shade from the Kandagulu canopies to disguise herself in the tavern, but she did have her words that worked just as well as for subtlety...\n\n➳\n\n\"I'm looking for my cousin,\" Deyanira replied while she fished out the bounty from her side pocket and slid it across the counter for the barkeep to examine, \"Have you seen them?\" She silently prayed that the barkeep would assist in her charade, assuming the Genasi man did not desire for any potential ruckus from erupting on this rainy, mellow day. She couldn't be certain Why Those Shapeshifters had become so suspicious of her appearance in Frogleg Tavern, however, something told her to play her cards delicately here or she may regret it... With that thought of paranoia flooding her mind again, Deyanira lifted the mug of ale for another drink; this time a greedy, long drink. It may be her last after she receives her information and hopefully, sending her out of this odd atmosphere within the tavern. Her eyes traveled carefully to behind her, locking gazes with the largest man of the Shapeshifters without a shiver of fear... C'mon asshole. What's your deal? She thought before tearing away her eyes and returning her attention back to the barkeep." }, { "author": "The Chronicler", "message": "The Fire Genasi would lean over the counter a bit to read over the bounty— he'd eyeball it for a moment, trying to read the poorly written Common, drawn in half-faded crayon before finally being able to fully understand what he has read. The man with the burning locks shook his head, before leaving a hefty sigh.\n\n\"Cut the shenanigans— I know that ain't your cousin, darlin'.\" He would tell Deyanira— he seemed to know the girl based off their voice. The way they spoke, though it had a sense of familiarity to it, however an air of sadness followed with it. \"...Neighbour's place has been empty for a few weeks now— Came by a few times to check up, but, nobody is slummin' around there. Knocked on the door a few times, no answer. Door hardly is even on its hinges— peeked inside and nobody is around there. Just... _Up and left._\" The bartender let out a big ol' sigh.\n\nHe would pause in his cleaning, holding the empty tankard he was shining with a rag. \"Sorry, Bounty Hunteress. I think it's best you leave.\" He would then tell her. \"People go missing all the time here— It's best to stay your lane and move on. You won't get your coin. You'll probably find something that'll upset you instead.\" He would warn her.\n\nDeyanira would be able to audibly hear patrons getting up. If she were to be observant, it wouldn't be hard to see the group of Beastwalkers having now moved from their table and began walking out. That Ox Beastwalker would briefly make eye contact with Deyanira— she could recognize that gaze. It wasn't that of lust— not the look she initially anticipated, but rather a look of predatory awareness. There was hate behind those eyes. The largest of the four being the last to step out.\n\nNow that the beastwalkers had left, the tavern became considerably less tense.\n\nThe Bartender had continued to shine his tankard, before making a comment. \". . . Those Beastwalkers are never up to anything good.\" He would simply add, before letting out yet another hefty sigh. \n\n\"Anyways— Drink is on the house. You heard what I had to offer. I'm sure you're capable, but, you should take my advice. _Please._\" He'd speak with a tone that implied more than he would let on. It's as though _something_ is going on, but the Bartender refused to speak more on it.\n\n_Your tankard is half full— or is it half empty?_" }, { "author": "captaincatnip", "message": "━═━═━═━┤➴├━═━═━═━\n 𝘿𝙚𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙧𝙖 𝘾𝙖𝙞𝙯𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙤𝙨\n━═━═━═━┤➴├━═━═━═━\n\n\"Cut the shenanigans— I know that ain't your cousin, darlin'.\"\n\nA hefty sigh would be returned to the Fire Genasi. Obviously, It was not her cousin. The one time Deyanira attempted to be subtle in the presence of looming threats, of course it would be the Other Person who failed to catch on. Regardless, she would have to roll with these types of punches on a peculiar bounty like this. Her brazen gaze sat heavy on the barkeep while he detailed out what little information he had collected and, unfortunately, it appeared that perhaps this bounty had Expired. Whoever had written it had evidently fled town and the Elf woman could confirm as much, noting the state of the demolished home that she passed on the way into the tavern. While a disgruntled puff fell from her nostrils in reaction to the disappointing news, she reached for the mug of alcohol, swiftly bringing the drink to her lips in hopes the bitter taste of watered down ale might settle her frustration. As the ale burned down her throat, she kept her eyes on the Fire Genasi's frame which reeked of Fear. It was an odd thing to say— 'I think it's best you leave', '-best to stay in your lane and move on,' And 'You'll probably find something that'll upset you instead'. Deyanira certainly wasn't the best decipher when it came to emotions, however, his words were enough to stir suspicion into her mind for nobody said such things without a motive. It was almost as if... Something had happened. That perhaps this bounty was more than a simple lost kitty but a tragedy of sorts. The barkeep's sentences dripped in apprehension and dejection so, It must be personal... She thought. \n\n\"Well-\" Deyanira nearly injected the Fire Genasi with her persistence to follow the bounty till She Felt it was complete, although an audible shift of the room caused her to snap her attention elsewhere. It was those Beastwalkers. The entire atmosphere of the tavern appeared to alter from the movement alone; as if a ripple trepidation had roused every individual to alert. Unable to help herself and as fearless as they come, Deyanira pivoted herself to face the dramatized exit scene with a stern glare in return. While many other patrons wouldn't dare to do the same, the audacious Elf did so with such casual effort; even going as far as leaning against the back of the bar and to watch the group of men as they made their way to the front door. The largest of the Beastwalkers had set off an internal alarm within Deyanira, and her paranoia warned her that it would not be the last time she saw him. Her gaze narrowed, scrutinizing the Beastwalker in such a manner that she could remember every square inch of his Stupid Face, as she would've placed it. His eyes were unmistakably predatory, as threatening as her own. At last, the Ox Beastwalker hauled himself through the entry and the doors swished shut behind him.\n\n➳\n\n\"Hmmph!\" Deyanira huffed out in protest. She couldn't place the Ox Beastwalker's face but, it was almost as if something personal had occurred between the two. She certainly had a long, Long List of individuals she had pissed off in the past and most, unfortunately, were rather easy to forget when new ones continued to be added. So as for this Ox Beastwalker? He could've been one of those forgettable faces, though her paranoia told her she'd find out soon...\n\n\"Yeah, no good at all... Likewhatthefuckwasthatmanlookingatmefor...!\" She muttered out the last part in a string of frustration, likely to go unheard and untranslated by the barkeep. With a swift turn back to the bar, her hand shot for the mug of ale and chugged the last portion of it before slamming it down. Deya knew she'd need the ale to function for whatever was to come outside of those doors. \n\nNot half empty. Not half full. In Deyanira's world, it was completely empty. \n\n\"Thanks for the ale, and the info. But, I can handle myself. C'mon Bandit.\" With that, Deyanira dismissed whatever the Fire Genasi might say with the wave of her hand. A soft 'Maow...' sounded from below the counter, where the firecat remained idle as he soaked in the warmth of the tavern. His flaming eyes flickered nervously at the door, anxious to return to the rain but with his undying loyalty to his owner, he would follow her anywhere. In true Deyanira fashion, the woman sent the door open with a kick and proceeded out, Bandit scurrying right alongside her. The downpour immediately met her frame once more, pounding on the hood of her top and cascading down her shoulders. Her gaze snapped to the home in shambles, for it would be her next destination for investigation.\n\nThis bounty ain't over until I say it is... She thought. \n\nDeyanira approached the demolished, old home." }, { "author": "The Chronicler", "message": "_You approach the old home, rundown and devoid of life._\n\nHaving left the bar, our Bounty Huntress stopped before the door of the neighbouring house— supposedly long since abandoned. The hinges hardly kept the door upheld. When she approached, the very air had caused the door to creek open, the wood groaning as Deyanira now got a glimpse of the interior.\n\nThrashed. Furniture was thrown about, the legs of a table smashed as the top laid at an angle. The furnishing of a nearby coach torn apart, as though something clawed at the cushions. The dust collected here— the fireplace had been left untouched for some time now, only charcoal remained inside. Time did not treat this home kindly, neither did most things in this slum really. However while Deyanira stood at the doorway, she heard something deeper inside the house.\n\n_Meow._\n\nShe heard a soft, pained cry from a feline— a cat other than Bandit was somewhere in this house. But, wait, the bounty was to _find_ a cat. This seemed awfully backwards, as Deyanira may have seemed to have found the cat, somewhere in here, but the beckons the question of _where is the girl?_ Perhaps somewhere else in the house?\n\nIf Deyanira were to step deeper into the house, further beyond the room where the entrance was— presumably this was a living room —was a kitchen towards the back. Yet, her hunter's instinct could tell something was off. The traces of dried blood stuck to the floor.\n\nThe bartender warned her that she wouldn't like what she'd find, and, it appears that what he said was true— did he know something about this? Questions would continue to pile on, as the atmosphere almost felt like it went through a shift. It was oppressive in here— the stains of pain permeated in this household. The four corners of this home was tainted by a sadness Deyanira will soon become better acquainted with— a sad story will soon be unfolded, as she continued to delve deeper into this place.\n\n_What happened here?_" } ]	575	4,882
414.425	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Lady Vierna Argith", "message": "The Hungry Wolf, a fitting name for a Tavern so busy with those eager to drink. Good solace, a rest from the daily bustle of Alynthi life. Often times it would be this busyness that forced away the unlucky few who couldn't find an early entrance. An unfortunate predicament, one that found an easy remedy for those with a heavier purse or a commanding tone. \n\nA company of two would soon descend upon this social place, the one who led a shorter figure found in fancier and hooded travelling attire, and the other much taller and freely fitted with the aroma of nature as befit a most intriguing Dryad. It would not be drink that they so desired, instead a notion for privacy. A room, and the largest one they could possibly muster. Wealth seemed to be no issue for this pair, and much to their mystery would find the gold offered to be more than accommodating. \n\nUp into the room, to find a rather versatile view and a space that could even accommodate the Dryad. A certain price had been offered of course, and any Alynthi host would try and oblige. A well patterned bed, sizeable and rather out of the way. Two carpets that neatly merge into one another, one embroidered with the symbol of the Capital's emblem. Ample lighting, decorative paintings.. Even a desk, to which caught the attention of the hooded figure.\n\nTime passed, the bustle of the Tavern below looming into silence. What was the short figure had notably made use of her time, sitting at that mentioned desk with quill and a series of letters scattered about her. Paused thoughts, considerations lingered in her mind like a plague. Her attire notably derobed slightly, the furry accessories discarded in the comfort of this privacy. Instead, the showing of a dress, Lazarothian in nature and clinging to her dark grey and white dappled complexion. Long, loose silvery hair ran down against her skin, a rare showing of an ocean-like blue in the glint of her Drowish eyes. \n.\n\nThe window remained open, the background chatter of the outside remaining a keen reminder of just where she dwelled. A foreign land, one that she intended to understand. And of course, she wasn't alone in that room.\n\nThat supposed anger and poutiness had been more or less eased, a composure found as their company of two merged with the public crowds and then to the busy Tavern space. It would only be in the privacy of this room that she eased out her true thoughts, as simple as it was like plucking the undesired accessories from her person. But truly, she had far more important matters than to rant at the Dryad which remained her only company as of now. Though, nor would she aim to comfort.\n\nSat down by the desk scattered with letters, the open window breathing some life into the Alynthi room. - Vierna seemed busy enough, a quill in hand at the desk shuffled beside the window place. A series of letters remained scattered, one in particular being the very catalyst to her actions. The deed, and letter from her Aunt - The Duchess of Syvarethe who spoke of great urgency and worry for the lands she had temporarily left. The others, attempts of her otherwise busy mind. Thoughts to supposed allies, names she remembered back home. The wisdom her Aunt offered her was keen in her mind, that much clear. \n\nOf course, a few stray moments she would look over to the silent Dryad - a look of mere curiousity. That whole sudden drama she found more or less justified in her mind, an exposure of a facade she was most unprepared for. Vierna didn't want to tread over old ground regardless, and in that way she imagined only to offer dismissal if more apologies came her way. Instead, the soft utterance of a different topic came to mind. \n\n\"This Half Human.. Would he know where to find you?\" - The soft Transylvanian tone purred out while her attentions remained on those letters, audible enough for the company of two.\n\nThe calming aura of nature was not something Vierna herself seemed pleased with. It was alien to her, unlike the busied Cities of Lazaroth in which she dwelled. The atmosphere of a Court, the bickering and gossip and marvelled plots was her background - though she didn't despise the aroma of it all. \n\nMidelia's response caught Vierna's attention again, a gaze straying from the letter she was attempting, the quill drifting from the letter. Her reaction was one of a clear ponder, a stare upon the Dryad that clearly showed her confusion by the response of Midelia. The sharp finger point seemed to seal it, as her gaze returned to the letter from where she pointed. \n\n\"Excuse me..?\" Vierna sparked some bewilderment, almost an amused scoff coming after as she shifted her seat to look upon the Dryad. \"As if I hadn't already made my intentions clear before, Midelia. I told you I wanted to meet him, and you told me you were expecting to reunite after his important business. However long he takes, I imagine we'll expect to see him soon given the time.\"\n\nThe remark on 'pressing matters' seemed to sting a little, as if being schooled by someone who she allowed to follow her, to share a room in the moment. That much seemed clear as her lips parted once more and offered a more irritated tune. - \"Are you really trying to lecture me? I don't want to argue with you, Midelia, but Gods do you make it hard not to.\" A narrowed gaze soon left the Dryad's view, returning to her letter regarding a Count from a local region in Syvarethe. A simple note of friendliness, dashed with that Drowish noble charm." }, { "author": "Midelia Protunshast", "message": "I am sorry just it's been a strange past weeks, for me and for you a-and i... I just don't know." }, { "author": "Lady Vierna Argith", "message": "Jade met Sapphire in those sudden moments, Vierna having turned her head again to look upon Midelia while she seemed to offer some apology. It seemed genuine enough, no longer were it the words of the overly shy facade but one who seemed to properly prepare herself. One that would require acknowledgement, surely? But no, instead a question. One spoken in a tone of perhaps more genuine curiousity than irritation. \n\n\"Why do you do it, Midelia..?\" - The Lazarothian offered, her free hand resting up against the desk to tap a calm finger at her lower lip. Contemplation, as she inspected the Dryad up and down as if that bore the answer for her. \n\n\"You mentioned not trusting others. A defense mechanism, yet you've rather openly exposed yourself to the world you hide from. If you fear those who inflicted that suffering to you, that scar, then I doubt a shy exterior works any better. Confidence, I've found, is a powerful tool. Oh well..\" The Drow shrugged after all of that, a calm ponder on Midelia's plans before returning to the letter in question." }, { "author": "Midelia Protunshast", "message": "```Observing the dryad would allow you to see more of her finer features, despite being a walking tree the dryad had a very lithe humanoid form. Some might even call it a beautiful form, yet it would go accompanied by many more natural and animalistic features. Her body would be made of a thick orangeish phoenix like bark with softer red aspects in some areas, the bark would be noticeably less thicker around her face and more sensitive parts.```\n\nI do it because it works, people see me as nothing more but a naive nature spirit. And it's rare for me to leave the forests very rare...\n\n```Her jade eyes would look the drow up and down as well, inspecting her much like Midelia herself was being dissected with the saphire eyes of Vierna.```\n\nTh-this era of exposing myself is n-not normal it's rare i worrybit is a mistake...\n\n```Her response would be she would look back out the window as she holds her arms behind her back, she wouldn't respond to the notion of confidence being better.```" }, { "author": "Lady Vierna Argith", "message": "One could certainly admire the features of the Dryad, however strange they may appear to the naked eye. Natural beauty blended with the features of humanity - quite the combination. To the more unconscious thoughts, she could imagine a certain few back in Lazaroth who would seek such a prize. - Vierna was born into that culture, but even she wouldn't condemn someone she'd consider friendly. The She Elf almost smirked at the Dryad's response, a curious hum while offering supposed wisdom of her own. \n\n\"Well perhaps you need to change your tactic in quite the different setting from your Forest homes, hm? Adapt, as some say. For all I know of City life, shyness breeds weakness. Don't doubt that there are scum within this land that may intend to exploit it.\" The Drow offered a keen little nod soon after, offering her side of dice then adding the more blunt addition. - \"Alternatively, you can continue to spin your little game. Just get better at delivering your truth. Nothing so sudden, next time. Perhaps an announcement that you have something to tell..?\"\n\nTo Midelia's own inspections, the Dark skinned Elf remained a beacon of Noble complexion. Legs crossed, the slim figure of the Drow relaxing comfortably against his seat as if she owned it already. The Lazarothian dress she wore was a sharp contrast to the travellers attire before - dark lining amassed by a shade of purple that covered the gown. It was ever so notable in its use for leisure, and a keen reminder of Lazarothians as a shameless kind, not afraid of showing one's natural self. Thus, the showing of her white dapples dotted along the darker skin was quite notable. \n\n\"Mistake or not, it's better that I found out this early. Atleast you made some attempt of an announcement. I tend to treat those that decieve me harshly.\" An extra emphasis on her final word, the Noble offered a fairly smug smile before shuffling back to her letter writing." }, { "author": "Midelia Protunshast", "message": "So what happens after you met the human? Will you leave for Lazzaroth and become a royal that enslaves others, perhaps you will enslave m- A- Ah forgive me that was too harsh i-i didn't mean it that way, i just haven't heard too much great about what happens in Lazaroth for those poor ones captured as slaves. But you seem different perhaps a wind of change in this?\n\n```Her French accented tongue would speak, the stopping herself midsentence and apologizing would indicate an uncertainty in her voice as she tried to speak to the drow over her future.```" }, { "author": "Lady Vierna Argith", "message": "The scar was quite the morbid sight, one so clearly by Vierna's refusal to look at it for too long. It was a stark reminder of the trauma the Dryad faced, but nonetheless she has seen it all before. \n\n\"Uh-huh..\" - A quiet scoff would be offered at the Dryad's reasoning, much more showing her refusal to enable such an argument. She wouldn't care enough to argue her philosophy, simply stating her view to a Dryad who supposedly struggled in these new lands. \n\nMore important to her, was the sudden boldness in Midelia's tone. The question of her future, of Vierna's future, no doubt. The complete ignorance of Lazaroth seemed clear by Midelia, possibly another point of gossip about the exotic island nation. \n\n\"I aim to follow my Aunt's wishes, Midelia, simple as that. And one doesn't gain a title by playing the Rebel. Slavery is a key part of the Kingdom, one that even the Queen would struggle to get rid of.\" Spoken in a tone where it was unclear whether she supported or disavowed the action of enslavement. There was a neutrality in her thoughts, an answer she hadn't yet reached. \"But my Aunt always had plans.. An attempt to steer away from the cruelty of my Ancestors. The start of something new, one that she believed only I could succeed in. The fact that she wrote that letter only speaks the blatant truth that I must act. So no, I don't plan to enslave you or anyone else if I don't have to - neither do I intend to free them all and have some great party. It just doesn't work like that..\"" }, { "author": "Midelia Protunshast", "message": "Ah-ah i am aware, i was just curious how passionate you were about i-it all hahaha...\n\n```With an awkward laugh and the usual stutter Midelia would do her best to switch the topic for a bit her mind wasn't exactly sure what to do to brighten up the mood between the two. She would think for a bit and eventually simply burst out a new question, her mind wouldn't be sure what tho. But she'd find something at least, something which doesn't resemble much of a question but more about her journey with the human.```\n\nAh well i'm sure Henryk will be here in a few hours at the least, he is a very timel-timely man. Me and him have an agreement as well a form of mutual partnership, i teach him some of my more tribalistic medical tricks or biomagical abilities while he teaches me more of the refined medical arts. H-how about you Vierna, what is really your passion?\n\n```With that out of her mouth she would turn around and set herself up against the window, having her backside rest on a small tablet infront of it. With the sunlight going inside it would almost be like looking upwards in a forest with the sunlight breaking through the canopy. The difference here would be the two bright jade eyes staring at you, as well as the hands of the dryad. Hands she seemed to be playing with perhaps a sign of nervousness or boredom?```" }, { "author": "Lady Vierna Argith", "message": "The awkward laughter caused her to cut much of a response, incredibly doubtful that this creature of nature knew anything of the politics of Nobles. The Drow wouldn't want to argue about it though, perhaps drained by this constant cycle of bickering that she'd rather avoid. One could tell she was done with it, that irritated side glance apparent for only a moment until Midelia attempted to change the topic in one way or another. Now the story of the Doctor, and something else that could distract her thoughts. \n\n\"You seem to sing some praise of him, and trust him enough for a mutual partnership. It does interest me in this eventual meet, I admit. Doctors are useful, afterall.\" The Drow merely offered with a shrug while at her desk, her gaze still focused upon the letters in question while offering her words. Thus, quite hard to decipher any expression that lingered. \n\n\"My.. Passion? Right now, it's making a good letter.\" A soft snicker would be offered, silence following as she slowly finished the letters in question. A final dab with her quill against paper and she was settled. In truth, every letter was a potential ally in her legitimacy. A future issue solved, another card to play. For what she considered most as Lazarothian Nobles, there were some elsewhere she had considered. Ideally, a rather powerful man of Gantrick. As influential as he was cruel, the Slaver Duke who had worked with her Family before. - One she found no pleasure in working with, but that was politics." }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "On cue, when the fair lady made her remark about making a good letter, a slow knock would be heard against the door. . .\n\n. . . Knock. Knock. Knock." }, { "author": "Midelia Protunshast", "message": "```The awkward situation Midelia and Vierna had found themselves in would finally come to an end, no longer did Midelia have to make a fool of themselves or Vierna make herself high and mighty. It would finally be over with the knocks reverberating through the room, the dryad would rather quickly turn her head in an eerie fashion. The sound of leaves moving and wood creaking would be loud, it would quickly be followed by the heavily French accented voice of the fae.```\n\nAh that would be him, i-i did tell you he would find us. I will open up.\n\n```Her arm would point towards the door, yet it would remain closer. The fae would mutter something to herself as soon roots sprung forther from the arm, a good 4 of them almost as thick as the arm of a halfling. They would move rapidly through the room remaining at the height of the arm, soon they would reach it as she opens the door in a rather swift motion. Retracting the roots as quickly as they came, the backlash would cause her arm to be pushed back quite a bit. A motion she would try to make look natural by putting her arm back behind her back grabbing onto her other arm. A slight smile would appear on her face as the autumn-spirit would greet Henryk.```\n\nA-ah you found me g-great, w-we didn't really deci-decide on a spot di-did we... I-i hope you do-don't mind the comp-company.\n\n```She would say in a timid manner as she looks over at Vierna and then back to Henryk's general direction.```" }, { "author": "Lady Vierna Argith", "message": "The knocks came quicker than expected, diverting the Drow's attention both away from Midelia and the letters she so instinctively shuffled to the side. A side eyed glance watched closely at Midelia's extension of roots, the urgency of that door to be opened seeming ever so clear, while also rather unnerving. \n\nA famed Doctor of some repute, even as a Half Human. Perhaps it was normal in this strange mainland, oh how Alynthi surprised her every step she made. Strange or not, Vierna knew how rude it would be to avoid looking new company in the eye. While Midelia reached for the door and began her talks, the Drow Lady ever so casually shuffled from her seat and adjusted at her Lazarothian gown - quite the intriguing look for one so foreign of that land, she imagined.\n\n\"Hm..\" - A minor hum to herself, the Lazarothian took one step closer in the rather sizeable room that she purchased, unlike other company finding no shyness in her exterior.\n\nLong, silvery hair drifted down to around upper back length, a sharp contrast to the tones of dark grey that dotted along her skin. Pointed ears of an Elf, a fair complexion and along her skin the appearance of white dapples. - Mirroring the appearance of the very night sky that her kin found a symbol of pure beauty. Lower down still would be the ensemble of Lazarothian garments, a dress shaded in a darker purple and bearing an almost intriguing combination best reflecting her origins. A symbol of Noble elegance, yet also a pride in one's form like no other. All in all, a sapphire-blue gaze loomed over in interest at the doorway and new company that awaited the pair. A look of intrigue, and quiet judgement appearing on the Young Drow's face, cascaded by a faint smile." }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "There he was, the o' prestigious Half-Human Doctor. His pale blue eyes would be cast upon the room he'd enter in. The light of the hallway behind him casting a dark shadow into this _dimmer_ lit room. He took cat like steps, a certain grace in his movement— every foot placed was with a calculative measure. He was a pale man, with a gaunt facial expression. His eyes and cheeks sunken in slightly. He was thin too, for a man— was his features sharp or was he simply a small eater?\n\nHe appeared to be dressed properly for a supposed common folk. He wore these checkered slacks, with leathered shoes. A dress shirt covered his upper body, accompanied by a sleeveless purple vest. He had no tie around his neck, simply choosing to expose his skin instead. His wavy dark hair lended itself to add to his gothic appearance.\n\nHe was picturesque to a human.\n\nNow that he was here, he carried this cold atmosphere around him. His pale blue eyes looked to Midelia, then slowly to the drow before him. He could _smell_ the noble presence which radiated off of her. He has commerced with higher society enough to tell whom is of the high life, and those who aren't.\n\nThe doctor, carrying this neutral expression, would turn his head o' so slightly to look at Midelia, giving her a slight nod. \"Midelia.\" He'd acknowledge her, before completely stepping into the room. Now, he'd address her question. \"No, I don't mind.\" Henryk responded. His voice was articulate and proper— it was evident he spoke in a calm manner. He was an academic, and confident in himself too.\n\nHe paced himself two or three steps closer to the drow, meeting eye-to-eye with her. His pale eyes locking with her gaze, holding them there as he would speak to the fair lady. They would cut like knives— metaphorically of course, as he would examine her, attempting to extrapolate what he could from sight alone.\n\n\"To whom do I owe the pleasure of speaking with?\" The Good Doctor spoke thus." }, { "author": "Midelia Protunshast", "message": "```She would look at him for a moment as she straightens herself a bit more, towering over both the drow and the human. Yet not really showing off her adventage in stature, she would clearly not be the dominant in the room. She'd put her hands together infront of her as she forms a small little ball, her long pointy fingers going outwards. She would open up her barken mouth and her voice would meet the world again.```\n\nTh-that would be Vi-vierna a drow explo-explorer i met o-on my travels.\n\n```With a slight smile she would push the ball into Vierna's camp now hoping and being quite sure that the drow can explain herself. Seeing how the elf is from noble blood and quite talkative, makes the fae certain that these two will get along decently.```" }, { "author": "Lady Vierna Argith", "message": "Every detail seemed of note to the quiet Drow, the way he strode in, the attire and very look of the Man that claimed to be some Half Human Doctor. Her best chance would be those few simple moments of acknowledgement to Midelia, and his brief scan of the spacious room around. \n\nThe finely fitted attire was one thing, a look of Affluence that highlighted some familiarity with the local lands. - hardly Lazarothian in nature. He seemed to be no simple common man, though she assumed regardless based on his occupation. Truly, what caught her eye most was the blatant look of him. Pale skin, rounded ears.. No sign of the usual half human mutations she expected from a Half breed. It was quite the intriguing sight, to look upon one that looked almost identical to the tales of that ancient and extinct race. Quite the rarity, indeed, the Shy Dryad had indeed not been fooled by any trickery of his origin. The coldness he brought seemed a unique touch, but for one so calculated as a Doctor it was hardly a unique thought. It did make her think however, how one so cold found interest in the innocence of Midelia.\n.\n\nThat momentary pondering soon was forced to pass as their gazes soon matched one another, her oceanic blue merging with the paler shades found from the slightly taller Half-Human. And what a stare it was, the Drow catching that glint of close inspection of Vierna herself. There was no understimating this one. As of now, Henryk would likely look upon one stare of quiet mystery. - an innocence surrounded by a look of Noble judgement. A faint smile remained on Vierna, eye contact lost briefly as she looked upon Midelia and her introductions. There was a subtle hint of amusement at the Dryad's shy facade again, but quick enough to be missed as she offered a nod and returned to her lengthy gaze towards the Doctor. \n\n\"That would be me, Sir. Vierna Argith, an explorer as Midelia so simply puts it.\" - The Drow's tone was quick and confident, only further escalated by the soft and alluring tones the Drow were famed for. A theme of a Transylvanian blend, a Noble utterance she didn't intend to hide despite Midelia's set up. Better still would be the surprising offering of her surname, Argith. To anyone knowledgeable of Lazarothian Nobility, it held quite the repute though perhaps not for the kindest of things for the Mainland's view. \n\n\"Forgive me for my choice of attire. Travel has been quite long. - so little time to plan for a meet with a famed Doctor, if I do assume. Midelia did seem to sing your praises, as far as my honesty goes.\" - There was a blatant hint that she knew how to carry a conversation, a subtle move of the topic of herself back to Henryk himself. She was intrigued afterall, and far be it for a gentleman to deter her from such discussion." }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "A unique choice of friend, Midelia. Henryk's thousand mile stare remained locked on her for a few seconds longer before finally he broke it. It appears as though he was reading her, trying to see what sort of game she might be playing at. Her noble attire, her race, he recognized the cut of cloth she was from. His experience with Higher Society and the elves would lend him to believe she was indeed Lazarothian— there was no doubt about that, but, he pondered _how_ Midelia mixed herself up with this individual. The gears were turning, as he pondered if there was more beneath that Dryad's bark that hasn't been revealed yet.\n\nRegardless, the Good Doctor would make a slight scoff, briefly glancing back over to Midelia. \". . . High praises you say?\" He would say— those eyes seemed to hold a certain level of doubt. No. It wasn't doubt. It was an inquisitive look. He was trying to read the room between the two individuals present. What words could've been possibly exchanged here?\n\nIt was clear he was incredibly suspicious.\n\nHe now looked back to Lady Vierna. Now it was his turn to speak. He had the sense she was more than meets the eye— she had a mystique to her. Like a moth to a flame, he felt the want to draw closer to the fire. Who was she?\n\n\"Henryk.\" He'd simply say. \"Doctor Henryk. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.\" He'd make a slight dip of his upper body and head— a bow to show respect. He identified what she was, and so, he would lean into what she'd like to see. His intent was to capture this person's favour, and learn more.\n\nNow raising his head again, looking upon her, he'd beckon his own question. \"If I might inquire, are you possibly here because of the _Royal Gathering?\"_ He would audibly ponder to her. Her business could be totally unrelated, but, he gathered the sense she may feel flattered by his curiosity. She truly _did_ carry a noblewoman's aura. Despite that, he hoped that by inquiring about her business it might open the door to learning what her intentions are in Alynthi.\n\nHe knew this well. He has entered a game of 'Social Chess' with the Drow. Midelia was merely a spectator to the pair. This riled some excitement in the Doctor. He always enjoyed a good brain teaser.\n\nThe Doctor opened the floor for the next person to speak." }, { "author": "Midelia Protunshast", "message": "Th-there is a royal meeting? H-huh that would def-definitely explain the co-commotion in this ci-city and the countless cultu-cultures that have found the-their place here. I di-didn't remember Alynthi to be like this since las-last time i've been here.\n\n```The dryad would very much be aware of the ensuing game the two she brought together would be playing with each other, perhaps it was part of a greater design or sheer luck? Maybe even boredom on the fae's part, nobody can really be certain of what it truly was except Midelia herself. For a moment she would ponder on the thought of partaking in such a game, but in all reality such matters did not interest her. For now she has brought these two together and she will watch it play out doing her best to not intervene too much or at all especially with the drow on edge and the thousand kilometer stare of the human.```\n\nO-oh and yes i simply mentioned you, th-that definitely peaked Vierna's interests.\n\n```The fae would make her way to the table in the room as she decides to sit herself down near the table, with a rather calm motion she would move the chair and places herself atop it. The chair barely able to resist the weight of the walking tree as you hear the creaking of both it and the tree-spirit. Not really certain which is which. The fae would put one of her arms on the table as she would tap the table, the sound of sharp wood meeting the hard tablewood would reverberate through the room. Almost like a clock really, her head would be staring in between the drow and the human as her eyes turn to the one that is talking, but for now the one that would be talking would be her. As her soft french accented voice makes it's way out of the confines of her head and into the ears of those around her.```\n\nT-take a suit or well make yourself com-comfortable Henryk, h-how was the journey here yo-you said you had some business here." }, { "author": "Lady Vierna Argith", "message": "Indeed, this little game has begun. A momentary narrow of her eyes watched the doubtful scoff of the Doctor and returning to look upon Midelia, then in return her own reply that obviously brought the attention back on her. Noting the tone of suspicion, Vierna attempted to reel him back in.\n\n\"Oh, please. Anybody who cracks that shy little shell of Midelia peaks my interest. And to hear, a Half Human Doctor, too, no less. Forgive me, but those things don't usually fit together where I'm from.\" - The Drow seemed to speak plainly, or she made it appear that way. A trustworthy notion of honesty, a tone well trained to reflect it. Her words didn't seem to indicate disapproval of the very idea, but an open curiousity that a foreign soul typically may have.\n\nThe offering of his name and bow seemed to be rewarded with that glint of approval, a smile and nod as she rested her hands against one another. - \"A pleasure to meet yours, too, Sir.\" Offered respectfully enough, the coming question seemed to offer more intriguing of a response. A faint smile moved away to hear Midelia's remark, nodding along in thought before returning to answer the Man. - \"Oh, I'm well aware of such a meet, but I'm only here out of that convenience. It was my intention to travel these lands, regardless. As Midelia said, exploration of my own.\" Now having answered the Doctor, Vierna seemed intent on spinning her own words. The Doctor wouldn't be the only one moving the conversation along, afterall. \n\n\"Sit, if you please. One trend I've noted atleast of Alynthi is its vast availability of seats, heh. Unless, you're busy..?\" - Playing coy in that final tone, Vierna truly wanted to gauge the interest of this Doctor. A simple question that could be twisted by a subtle tone of voice, the Drow watching him closely yet supposedly innocently." }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "There was a slight pause as both women offered him a seat, but, he would accept their offer for him to sit. He has been on his feet all day, after all. \"Thank you.\" He'd simply say, before taking his own seat to have both Midelia and Vierna within his peripherals.\n\nHe sat with a sort of lax posture, throwing one leg over another, crossing them. A hand reached up to his collar as he unbuttoned the top two buttons, giving himself a bit more breathing room. The Doctor sighed, getting himself comfortable as he had deposited his reliable bag of _things_ by the side of his chair.\n\n\"Yes, it _was_ a busy day. I paid the Alynthi Castle a visit. I saw my fair share of nobles, but, my business was with the infirmary.\" He would explain all but briefly. One hand moved to place a fist against his cheek while the other rested onto his legs, close to his abdomen. He showed this aura of aloofness, managing to settle despite his suspicions.\n\n\"So. Care to indulge me on how you two became acquainted? You're rather far from Lazaroth after all.\" He'd comment, sending the metaphorical ball back into her her court. Thus far, he had a sense that this _femme fatal_ was a bit of a tease, she knew what she was doing— she likely has been playing this game for a long time in the Lazarothian courts. Though he hadn't shown it, his intrigue in _her_ only grew as they spoke.\n\nHe'd almost admire her. He'd eye those silvery locks of hair, the ebony coloured skin of the fair lady. She was a lethal beauty— one he would have to tiptoe around. Lazaroth was known for slavery, and he got the sense that he was an exotic specimen to look at. He was rare, unique. The pair in the room had no way of guessing what the other _half_ of his Halfling heritage was. He was the splitting imagine of _Man_ and that alone made him worth something.\n\nOf course, he hadn't cared for what he was— he cared for his craft. He wanted to herald the world and all its splendours by his own merit. He wasn't an animal to be kept in a cage, he was an esteemed Doctor.\n\nHe'd guard himself, but gave enough to open the door for conversation. His business here didn't need to be private— in fact, it'd lend way for Vierna to cast more bait into the pond. It was a matter of not getting caught by her hooks.\n\nThe Doctor's eyes would travel between the pair while he was in thought." }, { "author": "Lady Vierna Argith", "message": "To her, even as the man sat there seemed to be some story to tell. By the cross of his legs, the ease into comfort despite the suspicious nature that he seemed to show, it brought many subtle thoughts in the mind of the ever observant Noble. Confidence, or a facade? Or perhaps it wasn't truly that deep. Nevertheless, the Drow herself would casually navigate to her seat by the window, a grasp at one of the corners in simple inspection before she made a graceful descent down to comfort herself. \n\nA rehearsed cross of her legs, a careful lean as her fingers traced at her very own chin. Despite the distance, Vierna made keen eye contact with the resting Doctor, intent on him keeping that gaze upon her, too. It did seem like she knew what she was doing indeed, that confidence clear. The mention of Alynthi Castle showed some surprise from her expression, then a glance away to Midelia expecting some way of a response. Silence instead, it seemed, but she was quick to involve herself. - \"The Alynthi Castle itself? High repute seems an understatement, Doctor Henryk.\" The Noble offered some flattery, though by his tone he seemed quite immune to it. It wasn't confirmed just yet, but she had far more to offer. A look of genuine intrigue flashed on her face, adding to her words with a smile. - \"Ooh, did a certain Noble stumble after one too many drinks? Require the aid of a good Doctor, I wonder?\" Some amusement was found in the scenario she gathered, one she doubted herself. Still, she found it a keen way to gauge whether this ones work was truly something intriguing. \n.\n\nOf course, the remark on both the Drow and Midelia's friendship was something she found keen to answer. Midelia remained silent, perhaps to fulfil that shy facade or avoid the anger of a Noble Drow. It mattered little, for it was a game she found most keen. \n\n\"Heh, I understand. I would ask the same given I were in your shoes, Doctor. On my own little journey through the mainland, I.. May have found some difficulty with a map or two. I got.. Lost, as annoying as that is to admit. Then, found by a familiar creature of the Fae. Midelia.\" - A faint smile and glance lingered back to the quiet Dryad, eyeing the gentle cease of her tapping. \"She led me to a nearby town, and I felt she needed to see the land just as much as I. She agreed, then after a brief agreed separation, we decided to meet here again, in the very Capital of Alynthi.\" A quick nod went to the Fae Spirit before that look returned to Henryk. Her words seemed genuine, calm despite the Man as a stranger to her. Perhaps she hoped it would ease the more subtle tension in the conversation.\n\n\"Then you, Doctor Henryk, must have snuck in during our separation. Strangely enough, the Dryad is less a mystery to me than a Doctor of Civilised lands. I won't hide my interest in your rarity, Sir. Indeed, given the opportunity I would love to learn more about you.\" Her gaze intensified in that softness for but a moment, a subtle stare lingering off to the nearby window as she offered some final utterance. - \"If you're willing to offer me some trust, that is.\"" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Henryk was a blunt individual, and, he wasn't going to sugarcoat anything. At the remark that he assisted a drunken noble, he would simply maintain this thousand yard stare— pale blue eyes piercing the Lazarothian as he didn't find the notion entertaining, considering the gravity of the situation he was dealing with at that point.\n\n\"Slaves.\" The Doctor would simply say. The word itself would leave enough of an impact onto the Drow as to what exactly he was dealing with. After a moment lingered, he'd give her some elaboration. \"I was treating recently freed _slaves_, Lady Vierna. They were keeping them at the castle— ones that've crossed the Alynthi-Dasvaz border.\" The Doctor would emphasize the slave part while holding this solemn expression, remembering days of his past. He was familiar with that border— Findara troops rolling into Alynthi to provide assistance with Dasvaz slavers attempting to capture more civilians for their own games. The memories of the battlefield left their scars, both mentally and physically. A flash of pain would be felt along his upper back as his memories had lingered in his mind of those events long past.\n\nHe was no longer looking at Vierna, but rather _past_ her. His eyes didn't acknowledge the Drow while he was in thought, before finally snapping back to reality as she discussed her relations with the Dryad. It appears that this Lazarothian was quite the free soul— to dare leave their homeland to witness the world. Admirable that such an individual wished to be culturally enriched.\n\nThe Doctor, after being asked for his trust, would simply pull his wooden pipe out. \". . . We don't mind if I smoke, do we?\" He would ask both Midelia and Vierna. He knew Midelia _hated_ that he smoked, but seemed to tolerate it. However he was concern with what the noblewoman may say. He wanted to get relaxed— and every man has their vices. He just wasn't afraid to show that he enjoyed smoking of the pipe to edge off his stress.\n\n\"I'll indulge you, if you indulge me.\" Henryk had responded. This was a two way street after all. He wasn't going to spill his guts to her— he knew Lazarothians could be dangerous. It's maybe a bias, especially since he knew he had blood ties to that land. However, this mysterious woman had an aura of cunning to her. He wasn't going to fall victim to it.\n\nHis eyes casually looked to Midelia with a newfound suspicion of her too. Who he thought was a innocent soul was becoming more suspect. Who was she really? Those eyes would hold this inquisitive gaze, before passively returning to Vierna— the current centre of attention.\n\nHe pondered if he was caught in the spider's web already. . ." }, { "author": "Lady Vierna Argith", "message": "It felt like the very room shifted in that sudden change of tone. - A tease she intended as playful seeming to awaken something perhaps entirely unexpected. The utterance of Henryk's words seemed to piece through Vierna's composure momentarily, a loss in confidence as the man struck that thousand yard stare. \"..Oh?\" \n\nAssisting freed slaves, a work most just and kind to those fleeing from the terrors of capture on the Dasvaz front. Even as a Lazarothian, she could see the charity in assisting those lesser and in the wrong place at the wrong time. His elaboration seemed to settle the mood just slightly, determining a less hostile intent with those blunt words. Whatever the case, she knew she had to be careful somewhat. \n\nAs the man's gaze turned to mere thought, looking past the Drow and away into some memory, Vierna seemed most curious. She was an Enchanter in secret, and a good one at that. A calm mind was one thing she could offer to those around her, which always made her curious with what startled the thoughts in the first place. Her words would remain diplomatic. \n\n\"I.. I didn't realise your work was so.. Important, like that. I can see why you've been so busy, Doctor. Excuse my tone.\" - Vierna spoke softly, but enough to keep the topic on Henryk. Gods, she silently wished to move on from this, to avoid the mention of her origins and their history to Lazarothian slavery like no other. It was a weakness she didn't intend for, but things don't always go the way you want them to. \n.\n\nMidelia's move to interject, an offering of drinks, seemed a keen enough distraction. A faint smile, while in keeping with the serious tone of slavery, would be offered aswell as a nod back to Henryk and the brandishing of that smoking tool. - \"Mmh.. How observant, Midelia, yes. What better an acceptance of your smoking then an offering of some drink, too, Doctor? A worthy combination, surely?\" Vierna offered more rhetorical than anything, yet seemed happy enough to recieve some answer. Midelia had given her some passing, an access into friendliness that befit the trio. \n\nThe Noble Lady wouldn't call for a servant, though, far little couriers around on her personal journey. Instead, with a brief grasp of her dress she would ease herself up and slowly wander on over to the nearby desk with her belongings in tow. While this happened, Midelia would have been asking the questions of the slaves treatment, Vierna cleverly avoiding interjecting herself instead to look for a bottle or two of a Lazarothian wine she had brought along with her. - Oh, how Noble of her. \n.\n\n\"Consider this part of my indulgement.\" A hand briefly reached through her satchel to feel that familiar bottle, the crest of a Lazarothian Wolf marking its sigil. - Drowish marked the details of the bottle, a Red wine with the quality of some renown. Vierna's favourite, or perhaps what her upbringing forced as her favourite. Still, she would proudly present the bottle with a humble hold. \"Let's talk, and drink together. Enjoy ourselves, as best as we can. Even if this ends in tension between the other, atleast you can remark on how clearly superior Lazarothian drinks are, hm..?\" - Now that was clearly her playfulness returning, something she hoped Henryk would accept. Casually she brought herself closer to the CONVENIENT table to set down the bottle, the selection of glasses finding their way eventually. There would be one extra, for Midelia's sake though truly she had no clue if a Dryad could even drink wine. Oh well." }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "\". . . Yes, perhaps a drink would be nice.\" He would nod as he had stood up from his chair. He'd move towards the window, opening it as he prepared his pipe, stuffing tobacco into the bowl. He'd take a match and light it, igniting the tobacco within as he would begin smoking by the window as to not let the smoke be captured within the room. He'd watch as the crimson liquid pooled into his glass. He couldn't help but think about the distinct smell of _iron_ in the air. The scent of blood. As the glass finished being poured out, he would take it by its neck, holding the goblet shape up to his nose to sniff it— catching a scent of its aroma.\n\nHe then brought the wine to his lips and drank it. Dry. It must've been aged for a long while. He enjoyed wine— it was the few things he'd find joy in. He always wanted to bartend when he inevitably retired. \". . . Perhaps I should introduce you to some of my own selection.\" The Doctor spoke, sharing the faintest of smiles with the pair, as he would set the glass along the sill of the window.\n\n\"Yes. I treated the slaves to the best of my abilities. The Alynthi Biomancers already healed the most significant damage. I simply sped up their recovery— one notable patient, an Aasimar child, had multiple burns and lashings. Their muscles were atrophied significantly— a skeleton of themselves. I believe she was also a victim of sexual violence, she was incredibly weary of me. The nurses warned me she was afraid of men.\" Henryk spoke, giving a heavy handed sigh. \"Fortunately I had my medicine. I think she'll be able to recover fully by months end with the medication I gave them.\" He would add, smoking from his pipe, before letting the fumes roll out of his lips and out the window.\n\n\"As you can see, Lady Vierna. . . _All_ my work is important. I don't know whether Midelia has informed you of _why_ I partnered with her, but, it's for the sake of improving my craft. I'm a pioneer of _Medical Arcana,_ and my interests lie in exploring this field of knowledge. Unfortunately, there aren't many like _her_ and _I_ who're interested in that.\" A saddened look crossed his face as he sipped his wine. \"It's a shame.\" He added, standing in a lax position against the sill.\n\n\". . . And what of your aspirations, Vierna?\" He'd audibly ponder." }, { "author": "Lady Vierna Argith", "message": "The Drow passively watched Henryk and his remarks on the wine, perhaps finding his dryness perfect to match with the very glass offered. A glass of her own, a keen swirl and closen to her nose would follow as those eyes remained focused upon the Doctor's remarks. One simple sip later, the taste would linger and some offering of a reply. \"Oh, your selection? Well, you must, now that you've mentioned it.\" That faint smile would earn an appreciation from the Drow, too. Perhaps wine was the key to his heart, the barrier to some trust. \n\n\"Gods, a child? A victim of.. Tst, Savages.\" - Hearing the account of his patient was quite daunting, a steady breath calmed by a brief glance out the window beside her. Vierna certainly wasn't cruel, as most imagined of a Drow. Such a tale showed a genuine guilt for the horrors of enslavement. \n\n\"I.. Find value in your work, Doctor, I do. And.. It makes more sense to me, now. Different paths of medicine, learning from eachother. Of course, I'm no expert, but it seems like a useful trade.\" There was not much else she could really offer, the Drow lost in thought until that coming question came perfectly intended for her. It seemed the Doctor wanted to know more about her, this supposedly cunning Noblewoman from Lazaroth. The tales of his work seemed to soften her up from their little game, that much shown by her reply. \n.\n\n\"Funny.. Midelia asked something similar just moments before your arrival. I... Have a duty back home I must oversee. My journey here was a preparation for that role, to.. Perhaps see something that others of my kin choose to ignore. The outside world, and just what wonders I could find lurking within.\" Vierna mused to herself, a subtle hum as she sipped at her glass again. A flicker of her gaze moved back to focus on Henryk, a shameless smirk showing then fading ever quickly. - \"Like.. Shy Dryads, or Half-Human Doctors. Grumbling Lumberjacks, and Strange entertainers.. Cities typically regarded as a hostile land, now put into some.. Context? Ignorance, is a foe I intend to conquer here. And now, it's become quite the urgent need..\"" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "\". . . So you _are_ nobility.\" Henryk's suspicions now confirmed as he's briefly nod along. \"And, with the intention to have a _ruling_ hand too.\" He would then add, taking a short sip of his wine, the smoulder of the tobacco letting off smoke as it was whisked away with the wind. He'd look her up and down, before continuing to speak. \". . . If I maybe so blunt, I can only assume you _are_ or _to-be_ a Lazarothian Duchess. With the amount of nobility here, in Alynthi, right now, it almost makes perfect sense.\" The Doctor made his guess— his ability to extrapolate as much information as he could on display here.\n\n\"Lazaroth has a large slaving culture, no? I can only assume that with what you're saying, you wish to change that. To a degree, anyways. It's very admirable of you, and perhaps even naïve. Ignorance _is_ one of mortal's greatest enemy.\" The Doctor continued on, as he now stared at the glass of wine, already having sipped through most of it.\n\n\". . . _Perhaps_ we can help one another. If Midelia here can vouch for you, then, perhaps there is some interest in _us_ getting to know one another better.\" Henryk would drag a smoke from his pipe, before dumping the ashes out the window. Smoke rolled from his mouth as he shut the window behind him. He took steps towards his chair, seating himself in it as he would cross his legs yet again, relaxing himself. \"Tell me, Lady Vierna, how do you intend on changing Lazaroth? On _curing_ it of its ignorance?\" Henryk asked the fair lady. It seems his interest in her suddenly has peaked. Or rather, her politics has drawn him in. Maybe he sees something that'll help him on his end? Henryk has a few ideas about that, anyways.\n\nFor now he posed his question. How will _she_ be any different from the Lazarothian nobility?" }, { "author": "Lady Vierna Argith", "message": "Her silence seemed telling as the Doctor made his assumptions known. The Drow considered her position as Nobility to be quite noticeable, yet the assumption of her future Duchess title was quite impressive. Instead, she would only watch and allow Henryk's words to flow into genuine interest.\n\n\"..I am not blind to the horrors of slavery, nor its benefits. But, it would take a Queen to solve such matters.\" - Vierna spoke plainly. It was not a statement of a coup, but a fact she clearly struggled with.\n\nIt would be the next choice of words that intrigued her the most, however. What could this Doctor do to help her, she wondered? A sudden interest in her and her coming policies, it really brought a new shade to Doctor Henryk. \"And what could you do for me, Doctor..? Forgive me, but you haven't indulged me enough for these answers. Why does Lazaroth suddenly matter to you?\" - There was genuine curiousity, a narrowed gaze watching Henryk closely." }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "\"I'll be frank, Lazaroth doesn't matter to me. The suffering of people do, however.\" Henryk would be rather blunt about this. \"So does my ability to conduct my research.\" He would then add that portion to the equation. \"But, I won't elaborate until I've heard of your plans— tell me, Lady Vierna, how will _you_ cure such ignorance? Believing that you need the weight of a Matriarch to cause true change will only lead you down a path of disappointment— one where you resign yourself to accepting failure. If you truly want change, you'll do whatever you must, despite what little power you have, to cause enough of an impression to challenge fate itself.\" The Doctor had now sat proper, out of his lax position as he showed a flare of passion in his voice. \n\nThen he placed himself at ease. \". . . We've _just_ met, that much is true.\" He would finish off his wine, setting it onto the table. \"However, I am a man who doesn't have much to his name beside his renown. Sometimes, when you see an opportunity to push one's agenda. . . You must _seize_ it. Midelia and I have only known one another for a short while, but I know that our partnership will benefit many people— I see the same in you, my lady.\"\n\nPause.\n\n\"So indulge me. What would you, a _duchess_, do to change your people? Your _kingdom?\"_" }, { "author": "Lady Vierna Argith", "message": "Again, silence seemed a theme as Henryk offered a tone yet unseen to her. Words of an intelligent man, a wisdom lingering in someone who faced conflict and troubles of their own. Passion, that was the key element that caught Vierna's attention completely. Who was this man that Midelia ended up meeting, that then led to Vierna ending up in the same room as him. Did fate play a role, challenged by his drive? \n\n\"Hm..\" - The Drow leaned back against her seat, that suspicious narrow of her eyes seeming to lessen as the need for indulgement slowly found itself sated. Her words wouldn't be wasted, instead focusing solely on the only question that mattered. What she would do.\n\n\"I would shatter the archaic ties that my Family has forced upon my land. Years of rule under an iron fist, one that can no longer persist. You may say it's weakness to rely upon the weight of a Matriarch, but in Lazaroth she is everything. Only in cooperation with her will I garner a united message, of change that I have heard, the Queen Dakashira wishes to instill herself.\" Vierna spoke simply, one experienced with the Lazarothian ways yet also still a Young Drow. There was plenty for her to learn, but she had been forced into this position by the political movements of other more violent actors. - \"Do you intend to act as guidance for me, Doctor Henryk? I still don't see your side of the partnership..\"" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "\". . . You and I are beings who strive for change. For development. To strive for a better tomorrow.\" Henryk would identify. \"I've spent countless years in Findara, but, there is not a day where I feel satisfied. There are always sick, there are always meek, there is never enough healers— never enough _medicine._ I've told Midelia here my struggles. There is never enough supply for the large demand, and worse, not enough who can pay for the care they need. As much as I wish it was, my work is _not_ a charity. I cannot make medication appear from thin air. Biomancers won't always be available. I want to revolutionize Medical Arcana, and make medicine more readily available. I want to save lives.\" A pause. \"But I need help.\"\n\nHe'd then allow silence to linger in the room as he looked to Vierna, allowing her to digest this information before he made his proposition to her. To let her understand what his struggles are, and what he wants.\n\n\"I want you to sponsor me.\" He would now reveal. \"I will give _you_ and your people medical care— I will even teach people my craft if you, Lady _Vierna Argith_, give me what I need. I will assist you in your campaign for change, I will show your people that Vierna Argith _is_ the future if you help make the future _I_ want a reality.\" Henryk would boldly say. This was a side of him even Midelia hasn't seen yet. His overflowing confidence. The swagger which he carrier himself with.\n\n\"If you don't trust my abilities. . . I invite you to Alynthi Castle's infirmary to see what I've done in a day's work. If _that_ isn't enough, I'll show you my machinations. And if even _that_ isn't enough then I'll come to Lazaroth and heal the sickest peasant you can present to me.\" Henryk would say o' so boldly.\n\nThe Doctor would lean forwards slightly. \"In Findara I have only a clinic which I have to pay for in _property taxes._ Payments which could be used towards paying for ingredients necessary to make medicine. I had to ask the local butchers for the leftovers of animals so I can engineer some of my concoctions. Findara won't give me what I need because they rely too much on magic— on Biomancers. Healers who aren't readily available. So I ponder this. Will _you_ listen to me?\" Reiteration. He wanted to get the point across— to glue it to her mind.\n\nWith that final question posed, he took the bottle to fill more of his cup. He settled the bottle, taking his cup and leaning back, entering his relaxed position as his pale blue eyes met her own. \n\nHe then took a sip, before uttering a final string of words.\n\n\"_Duchess_ Vierna Argith?\"\n\nThe Doctor beckoned her name and title." }, { "author": "Midelia Protunshast", "message": "```She would rise having denied any glasses, despite suggesting it Midelia wasn't a drinker at all. Or well not in the natural ways of things Midelia much like other plants has other ways of getting nutrition while being able to do the same as the \"Other\" Races she would very much prefer to do it the traditional dryad way. She would move back to the window as she leans partially against it recreating the previous view Vierna had been priveleged to, the sun shining through her leaves it would be like the canopy of a forest a rather mesmerizing sight really. Adding to it would be the pleasant form of the dryad and simply the natural feeling she would release, a feeling she would add to by speaking her word a bit more.```\n\nS-so you plan to do business with Vierna, i-i think it might work but well i don't know if i-it's a great idea really. Wh-while not every Lazarothi is a sla-slaver would it rea-really be sma-smart to focu-focus our efforts on them? Not to mention the huge risks La-lazaroth can bring with it, it-it's a very big risk Henryk one whi-which Vierna definitely knows.\n\n```What Midelia said might ring true to some, doing her best to not really offend Vierna as she puts up a rather genuine smile. Going to Lazaroth and leaving to serve under Vierna, it's all very risky all it would take would be the usual backstabbing the drows are known for and all their efforts would be for nothing. A risk Midelia is definitely thinking about in the labyrinth that is her mind, her usual paranoia and scared nature truly coming to light as she in all honesty sees the worst possible outcome.```\n\nI-it's up to you of-of course, i-i did beli-believe you told me of some exp-expedition somewhere around he-here. S-so it will be a long wh-while before you can really cre-create such a plan with Vierna. O-of course a partnership right now is a gr-great idea!" }, { "author": "Lady Vierna Argith", "message": "There was no doubt that this Doctor had passion, one so boldly melded with the years of frustration that ached from the hard-working man. It intrigued her, drove the Noble to listen with the typical notions of playfulness seeming to cease. An explanation was what she wanted, an indulgence from the Half Human that would finally be answered. - and she found little in terms of dissapointment. \n\nIt was a pitch, but one so keenly blended by the frustrations of the man. Clearly, he desired her resources but spun it in a manner that showcased a mutual benefit. He'd offer his service, his voice, his skills, all for an opportunity to move away from this Findaran stagnation. That fluster of Drowish ego was stroked, his closing remark earning him a subtle silence from the cunning of the Noble, though by that gaze he certainly had some of her interest. \n\nBefore she could offer much reply, Midelia's words would chime in. An urgency to issue warning, perhaps a notion that the Dryad clearly cared for this one's welfare. It seemed to amuse her, however, allowing the perfect time for a response. \n\n\"You think he doesn't know that, Midelia? The risk, the danger that such a task would take? No, I think he understands it perfectly..\" - A surprising snicker rang out, almost as if she was surprised how interesting this day had become. It would not be to mock, clearly. \"It's why his offer is so much more attractive to me. Such desperate passion for change, as much as I am eager for help.\" \n.\n\nNo verbal response would go to the words of Henryk yet, but by her words to Midelia would there be that glint of approval. Truly, she was unsure if Midelia was just intending to keep him away from her - the mind boggled on just what this Dryad facade wanted. \n\n\"It is a most intriguing offer, Doctor Henryk. Your devotion to my cause, my claim, and in return the offering of resources and sponsorship you have lacked for so long. Both, fulfilling some reliance on the other to achieve this 'change' you so boldly stride for. We strive for. Though, as Midelia seems to suggest, if some other expedition is of more importance at this moment..\" Vierna seemed to want to gauge this expedition's worth, where Henryk's priorities lay. Was it Midelia simply guarding Henryk, or perhaps something else?" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "\"That expedition was for one thing. Money.\" Henryk responded. \"But, if I had a noble sponsor me, why worry about pocket change?\" He would reason to the pair. \"Of course, I wouldn't go to Lazaroth _right_ away. I need to verify Vierna's willingness to her own cause— I can't support someone who isn't faithful to their word.\" The Doctor would explain this to them, swirling the crimson liquid in his glass goblet. \"Going to Lazaroth _is_ risky. So what? I have done more idiotic _things_ in my life. Vierna here and I are very much. . . Alike. She's _here_ after all. A noble outside her estate's walls. I admire that.\" He played a card of flattery, but, it was also true. He felt drawn to that aspect of her. She was a risk taker, and so was he.\n\n\"I can't sustain a fulfilling life in Findara. There isn't enough of an appreciation for my work when you have magic healers. However, that is not to say Lazaroth will have monopoly over my work. We are ambassadors in Lazaroth— what we do as work there, everyone will reap our labour. The reason it'll be to Vierna's interest is because _she_ will be the one funding the project. People of every kingdom will see her as a benevolent and just noble— she could even dare seize the crown if the whole _world_ knows she had been the one to assist in the pioneering of modern medicine.\" Henryk reasoned with the pair. \"We, Midelia, are valuable assets. Lazaroth maybe dangerous, but we'll be well guarded if we provide fruits of our labour.\" \n\nHe would sip his wine. He maintained his composed look, neutral expression as his eyes would lock with Vierna's. His gaze was intense. He wanted her to feel the weight of what he was saying— to understand how beneficial he was as an ally. To understand how beneficial he is to the potential of _her_ gaining a crown.\n\n\". . . Our names will be written in history. We will lay the seeds to a better tomorrow.\" He rose his glass slightly towards the pair. \"What do you say, ladies?\"" }, { "author": "Midelia Protunshast", "message": "```Her thick French accent and the force stutter would convey at least the willingness to negotiate this point, this wasn't a hill the fae was ready to fight on perhaps. Yet to Midelia she despite most of her isolation has heard and even seen tails of many like this before, wishing to claim greatness and do something for the greater good in a far-away land. All for it to crumble down due to the lack of solid foundations in said lands. The fae would rather rely on what she has seen in her many years that vastly outnumber both the human and elf, than their opinion or wishes.```\n\nAn-and well it seems you made your choice to return to Lazaroth have you Vierna?\n\n```Deciding to respond to the elf with a question instead of an answer, there would be a noticeable difference in the voice of Midelia while speaking to Henryk it would be much more careful and friendly. To the elf it would still be rather friendly but much more serious and direct, Midelia most likely is playing on the power dynamic going on between the trio.```" }, { "author": "Lady Vierna Argith", "message": "The Drow seemed to get her answer quickly, Henryk's insistence with the plan seeming to justify some approval from the Noble Lady. From suspicion to sudden plans, the arrival of drink seemed a worthy case to start some better dialogue.\n\nAn acknowledgement came at Henryk's words, a simple nod and a slight gesture with her glass that seemed rather unbothered thanks to all this talking. \"I don't intend to travel for Lazaroth right away, regardless. There are allies I must consider, and letters to send. Travel elsewhere, I imagine, too. - And.. Verify, Sir? I won't judge you for being too careful. Though, I do wonder how you'll go about proving my own willingness.\" A sip of her glass, then a subtle smile - it indeed was a puzzling thought. Was she to be followed, inspected of her daily occurrences to avoid such foul play? The mind boggled, but it only proved a further likelihood of his own willingness to enact such a plan. Still, the thought would flutter away as Henryk's simple flattery came. There would be simply a smile in response, no intention of stoking some arrogance but an acknowledgement of his intriguing words. \n\nShe was locked in that gaze once more, the raise of that glass encouraging her to do the same until Midelia offered her own concerns. Vierna saw the points the Dryad made, yet considered an argument. The question from Midelia would seal it, and she eyed the Fae creature closely. \n.\n\n\"I told you of the letter, Midelia. I have no choice. Though I do wonder how you can talk of caution, avoiding risks, yet suggest the topic of this expedition over this little arrangement. What expedition even is this? What manner of danger could be risked there? Lazaroth is a hazard for you, only if you remain alone. If you or Henryk stood by my side, they would not lay a finger upon you.\" \n\nVierna tried to reassure the Dryad, starting in arguement then ceasing with a subtle hum. Soon her gaze would flicker back to Henryk, looking him over once or twice before continuing. - \"Besides, Henryk made it clear his full work is not intended only for Lazaroth, right?\"" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "\"Indeed.\" He nodded in acknowledgement to what Vierna said towards the end— that there would _not_ be a monopoly in Lazaroth. Everyone will receive medicine. He just will happen to start in the Lazarothian country. If Vierna came from Findara, or Thyseer, or Khisfire, or even Dasvaz, he would've indulged her purely because their interests align. \"As for _verification,_ I know what will satisfy me. . .\" \n\nHe paused, taking a sip from his glass of wine, savouring the taste. The alcohol certainly has loosened his lips by now.\n\n\". . . Be my nurse for a day.\" He would suggest. \"I want to see your work ethic— I want to see how you'll react when met with people less fortunate than you. I want to see how _willing_ you are to help a person.\" This was what Henryk would suggest. \"Don't concern yourself with qualifications, or the ifs ands and buts. I'll be there to guide you. I believe this would be the most effective way to tell what kind of person you _really_ are.\" \n\nHis gaze then looked to Midelia. \"I _promise_ you that people here and Findara will receive care too. However, I've already told you the state in which my clinic is in. You met me in the forest _foraging_. That time could be spent elsewhere, medicating people instead of closing down my clinic to resupply. If I'm given Vierna's sponsorship, I can get others to do the work for me while I focus on more pressing matters— with the right materials, and the right people, I can heal people tenfold then I can now.\" \n\nHe then looked back to Vierna. \"Overly ambitious? Perhaps. Unrealistic? _No._ I just need to know that the people I'm working with will give me what I need. There's no need to rush either. I'm sure we'd make great penpals, Lady Vierna. _That,_ and I did offer for you to try my own wine selection at some point. That would entail coming to Findara for a time.\" He spoke, breaking the faintest of smiles. Looks like the Doctor has more than one facial expression. \"What do you say?\"" }, { "author": "Midelia Protunshast", "message": "```Outnumbered as both Vierna and Henryk seem very much set in their ideas, dealing with the direct Henryk will prove difficult if his opinion is set in stone. While with the much more snake-like her opinion was never really set but in this scenario it would prove difficult to pull her away from it seeing the human next to her who was very much set in stone.```\n\nA-ah fine h-have it your way i w-will just fol-follow...\n\n```A sigh would follow as the fae turns around looking outside the window she wasn't really sure if this was a good idea to just allow these two recently met companions to decide to move together to the northern most island that is Lazaroth especially since Henryk already had other affairs to handle and the elf only recently being called back. She would straighten herself as for a moment the dryad would be lost in her thoughts again thinking on how to respond to both of them.```\n\nO-of course we sti-still have time to consider do we not?\n\n```With that Midelia would hope for her greatest ally time to be on her side in this occasion, perhaps a good night's sleep might change the opinion of the other two as they get a moment to think about it. But for now the autumn-spirit would be quite powerless or well willingly powerless as she doesn't seek for an other argument with the elf nor starting one with the human.```" }, { "author": "Lady Vierna Argith", "message": "Oh, Vierna knew exactly how Henryk played this. The subtle pause, the hesitation for an answer that practically forced her curiousity to show. What would a Noble Lady have to do to earn the acknowledgement of this clever man. This driven, passionate man of the medical arts. \n\nAnd it would be his want that brought a series of reactions from the Drow Noble. At first, a notable falter in that cunning composure. Her lips parted, a stifled snicker of disbelief, as if she expected this to be some joke. - Only would it start to stick as Henryk continued his reasoning. \n\n\"You're.. You're being serious, aren't you? Heh. Oh my..\" - She couldn't help but continue that shameless snicker, the very idea bringing quite the amazement to her thoughts. A Noble playing Nurse, what a concept. Out of her comfort, far more than simply leaving the estate. It would be his notion of what sorta person she was that stuck with her, gaze locked against his as her snickers started to cease. A strange request that started to make some sense, a fool Vierna wasn't. If he were to believe she was a bastion of change, what better a task than one that so clearly drifted against the standards of Nobility? \n\nPerhaps to avenger those solemn moments she had waiting for his idea, Vierna went silent in thought. A gaze that remained on Henryk briefly drifted to her glass, and there she took her final sip of the Lazarothian wine. The empty glass would be swirled, gaze returning to Henryk as she then let it drift back to the table. Finally, a response. \n.\n\n\"If you believe it to be a good indicator of my true person, then perhaps I can indulge this.. Scenario. But..-\" A dominant finger would raise, an assertiveness hidden behind her teasing would appear. The Matriarchy of Lazaroth and its effects. - \"You will say nothing of it, Sir. For all that these patients know, I, on that day am simply a Nurse in your employ. There will be no mention of it, not without my say so. Are we clear, Doctor Henryk?\" Setting her conditions simply, she would end her remark with a faint smile that seemed to convey a slight tinge of interest in this activity he proposed. \n\nThe talk of penpals and over ambition seemed to amuse her enough, though soon she would move her attentions to the Dryad that spoke in defeat. Vierna was unsure how worried Midelia truly was. If it was so fatal, surely she would've shattered that facade already to state her grievances. The Drow's smile seemed to fade as an inquisitive stare loomed over Midelia, a confusion then a huff. \n\n\"Midelia, please. I'm not forcing you to go, but this dangerous land you so fear is my home. We will have plenty of nights to consider it, and there will not be one where I decided to leave my home to the plight of others.\" A tinge of seriousness, words not uttered harshly but clearly important to her. And why wouldn't she be, the Drow determined to change things." }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "\"My lips are sealed.\" He responded with a slight tease to his voice, making a husk chuckle as he polished his _second_ glass of wine. He'd set it on the table before relaxing back into the chair. He took his collar and slightly beat it against himself, trying to use his collar as a fan— a way to cool himself off slightly. \"When do you intend on visiting?\" Henryk would ask Vierna, pondering how soon he'd need to get ready for her arrival. \"I'll give you the address to my clinic before I go.\" He'd add.\n\nHe'd look to Midelia, giving her a prompt nod. \"Nothing is concrete yet. The future is still flexible. I'm not going to force you into anything— trust me. I have assessed the risks, and decided I am willing to gamble.\" \n\nWith that, Henryk let out a heavy handed sigh. \"I think I'll be purchasing a room to stay in, I believe. That _wine_ has my body too lax.\" He spoke thus, placing a hand against his forehead. \"And the night has _just_ begun.\" He would add, further illustrating his disappointment.\n\nHe had no further commentary to make." }, { "author": "Lady Vierna Argith", "message": "A quick narrowed stare questioned the sealing of those lips, a moment or two in silence until a smile eventually gave way. There was a different side of Henryk that seemed to show itself by that influence of wine, a casual eye upon the desperate reach for air and tug of that collar in the warm room. \n\nThe question had been raised, at first a tap at her lower lip as she so usually liked to do. One subtle little tap before she eased that finger away, enough so she could respond with some thought behind it. - \"Heh. Within the week, I imagine. I still have business with Alynthi, afterall, and to deal with these letters. I'm sure you'll have everything ready for me, Doctor, as.. Famed as you supposedly are.\" Managing a smirk, her composure would return as Henryk spoke to Midelia and earned some silence. Infact, the Dryad seemed ever so quiet after their combined responses. \n\nThe thought seemed to pass, a slight concern that lingered enough until Henryk finally spoke of his state. A hand would go for her mouth, a shameless snicker as she considered her response closely. The perfect idea rang true to mind. \"A shame, Doctor, it seems that a Lazarothian delicacy bests you, afterall. I would hope this showing doesn't lessen the quality of the wine collection you so boast.\" Noble gossip, playful and cutting true. Perhaps it was bullying, Vierna targeting the Doctor in his less than sober state. \"..But yes. Goodnight, Sir. After such a busy day of yours, it serves only right that you get your good rest.\"" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "\"Yes, suppose it's time I take my leave— but before that.\" He'd nod, but not before taking out a quick piece of paper. He'd take some of his ink from his travel pack along with a quill, quickly scribbling out some text. He'd then slide it over to Vierna.\n\n\"My lettering address.\" He'd say, before standing up. He'd put his things away, before picking up his travel pack. \"Thank you for the wine. I'll see you in a week.\"\n\nHe then looked to Midelia. \"And I'll see you at the clinic.\"\n\nFinally he moved for the door, briefly looking back. \"Goodnight.\" Then passing through, leaving the pair alone.\n\nThe Doctor exits stage left." } ]	410.5	16,577
396.878788	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "savvy.exe", "message": "Through the greenery of the edge of the woods, late afternoon light dappled the ground with spots of yellow warmth. The spring was bountiful, full of greenery and blooming life. What a blessing, the spring was. Through this scenery wandered a wood elf, making her way in the world the only way she knew how: trekking through the natural world. Aylera had decided to camp in the area for the night, resting in a comfortable place before she began to head to more developed settlements. She meandered through the underbrush, her steps light. She carried a light pack, equipped with only the essentials. Hopping over a fallen log, Aylera turned her attention to the trees above. Using her spear as a walking stick, the woman made her way along a worn deer path, eyes flicking between the beauty of the natural world and the shadows where her senses always seemed to need to double-check.\n\nOut here, there was no need for anything else. Foraging for food was the least of her worries at this time of year. On her way to find a formidable tree to set up in, the elf had collected a variety of wild fruits, nuts, and vegetables. A promising oak appeared at the edge of the tree line, and Aylera made her way to it. A swift unpacking allowed the elven woman extra time to patrol for game before lighting a fire. Her setup was simple, consisting of only a hammock constructed of woven cloth and leather ropes, with a leather cover to make it into a small tent if the weather demanded. Today, it did not. That leather was instead left in a roll as a pillow, resting with a gentle sway in the soft spring breeze. Once she completed her minimal work, Aylera set out once more.\n.\n\nWandering into the nearby forest, the woman paused to fill her waterskin in a small stream. The gentle burble was a soothing sound, one that she associated with peace. She glanced about, the shadows of the canopy beginning to grow long with the descending sun. The sky turned rich and golden, glinting off the cool rushing water. Aylera took this moment to pause, allowing herself a moment to praise Alynthi, for creating such a magnificent scene. She also praised the natural world itself, for it was the plants and creatures within it that allowed it to persist and thrive. As she clasped her hands together for prayer, a slight movement caught her eye. It came from a shadow deeper into the forest, but she could make out no sign of the creature other than her instincts coming alive. The elf observed and decided it was nothing more than a trick of the light.\nOn her way back to her small camp she managed to catch an unfortunate hare, as well as gather a bit of wood for a fire. As much as she disliked taking lives, the hare population this spring seemed to have exploded, and she would make sure it was honored for its sacrifice. By the time the sun had set, she had her dinner roasting over a small fire, accompanied by a few herbs and the produce she had accumulated on her way. She had excess, which was slightly irritating- given the teachings of the House of Elk to never take more than one needs, but she could leave an offering to the forest, thanking it for its bounty. She occupied her hands and mind by preparing the skin of the hare to save its fur, weaving a small basket of grass for these offerings, and periodically checking on her dinner's progress. By no means was she a perfect chef, but she was not one to waste resources by burning them.\n.\n\nAgain, out of the corner of her eye, Aylera could have sworn that she had seen another slight movement. She paused and turned her head. The nighttime sounds of crickets and crackling fire soothed her nerves and after staring into the forest shrouded in shadow, barely illuminated by the waning moon, she decided again that it was nothing. She returned to her work, attempting to keep her mind free of unnecessary worry. Either way, she kept her spear close, her bow and quiver resting on the hammock. There was no mistake as grave as being unprepared, after all." }, { "author": "Dulcinea", "message": "Dulcinea had been traveling through the forest most of the day. Having gotten lost more than they wished to admit once again as it was just a common thing for them at this point. Not knowing the area good enough caused its problems for easily getting lost or turned around and just simply wasting time. With the now setting sun coming Dulcinea was unable to find a village to stay in for the night and would have to make camp in the forest. They weren't exactly happy with having to do this but decided it could be okay as well since they would be able to observe the stars a bit if they climbed up into a tree high enough.\n\nHaving no way of easily seeing the map anymore and having lost all type of direction they would simply walk through the forest. One of the plus sides for being a scathis was not having to need food as a othet species did. Dulcinea didn't really know how that even worked but it did work in their favor in nights like this as they didn't need to stop to eat or go foraging for food. Though they did know a few things about plants to help out if needed to when having company with a guide. Trying to act normal was usually best because no one asked if you had food and seemed like you were eating it.\n\nAs it got darker Dulcinea would decide to let the hood of their cloak be down. As far as they knew no one else was around so they felt safe enough to not be hiding under the cloak. Letting their dark purple to black hair get caught up in the cool night breeze. It was nice getting to enjoy the cool breeze and feel less like someone would find them. It was always something that made them feel on guard always since there been too many times they been told the stories of what could happen to a scathis that revealing what they were became something they wouldn't do ever. Only one person knew what they really were but that was far back in another town so it didn't matter now.\n\nDulcinea looked around a bit as they continued to walk. Trying to find a good tree to climb was becoming a bit difficult. They wanted to see the stars as being a constellation type they felt more connected to the stars and galaxy than anywhere else. Maybe it was just because of how they looked. They didn't really know, they wouldn't be paying too much around them as they explored as they were wanting to find that perfect place to see the stars. Not realizing they were not alone in this area of the woods." }, { "author": "savvy.exe", "message": "Minutes passed before the telltale sounds of an individual walking through the woods peaked Aylera's attention once more. The elven woman had been calmly praying over her meal, sitting peacefully beside the dwindling flames. She opened her eyes to glance about, surveying the periphery of her vision to distinguish the source without giving herself away- assuming it was a threat. The coals crackled, sending a small cascade of sparks flying up into the cool nighttime air. There was nothing she could see, but nevertheless, Aylera stood, grabbing her bow and quiver as she moved. She took soft steps, moving carefully through the dim firelight, peering into the shadows of the forest.\n\nThrough the foliage, she spotted the figure in question. Aylera couldn't tell who nor what it was, but the individual was close enough to hear. Processing what she saw, the elven woman narrowed her eyes. They did not seem to carry a weapon, nor did they seem to be following a trail. Were they... Looking up? She couldn't tell what their intentions were, nor a possible reason as to why they were here, but either way they were indeed close- despite not having noticed her yet.\n\n\"Who moves under the moonlight?\"\n\nHer voice reverberated through the trees, the smooth syntax of the forest's dialect of elvish befitting its surroundings. Aylera lowered her bow, not wishing to instigate aggression, but continuing to anticipate it. It was unlikely to be another member of the House of Elk- there was no reason for patrols or travel at this time. She took a breath before speaking again.\n\n\"I mean not to harm- unless that is your intention\"\n\nThere was no avoiding confrontation, it seemed. The figure seemed as well-intentioned as a mysterious individual wandering the woods alone at night could. The coals of the fire continued to pop and sparks now backlit Aylera's own shadow. A chill seemed to rush through her, a light cascade of cortisol that one could've sworn sharpened the vision.\n\n.\nThere was no way around it, so she switched her language to common, albeit with a distinct accent that disrupted her attempt at sounding more sincere.\n\n\"Traveller, the moon is bright, I see from afar you appear to mean not to harm. Neither do I.\"\n\nHer time spent studying common was long, yet she still felt the unfamiliar bluntness of its dictation bite her tongue. Aylera had honestly no inclination to practice until she had found herself summoned by Alynthi to travel. Then, she had regretted not doing so far sooner. If she had learned one thing from this journey already, it would be that communication truly is a talent worth honing, and she was far from perfect. Despite that, a bit of conversation from a kind stranger would do her good- if they were as kind as she was praying they were." }, { "author": "Dulcinea", "message": "Dulcinea would be just enjoying the night till hearing someone speak. At first since it wasn't common they simply thought it was just the forest playing tricks on them. It wouldn't be a first time that they thought they had heard something and it was nothing at all. Though at hearing the voice once again but in common, Dulcinea would freeze up. Someone was there and they had their hood down. This would freak them out as they didn't want anyone to figure out what they were.\n\nCould Dulcinea run? If they did would they get away? The stranger could be armed and probably easily attack. Dulcinea really felt on edge as they now felt trapped. They would decide to take a run for it though it quickly ended as Dulcinea would trip and fall down.\n\nSo much for a night under the stars. It just seemed to just keep going down hill. Dulcinea would just try to at the point hide their eyes. The darkness might be enough to hide them but they had forgotten about their horns and the glow that came from them just as their eyes did." }, { "author": "savvy.exe", "message": "Peering into the darkness, Alyera began to step forward, cautious not to offhandly cause any more harm than good. She blinked, eyes fixated on the figure- they seemed somewhat suspicious, but not to any grave extent. Apprehensive was a better word to describe them. Either way, the elven woman didn't feel they posed a threat. Now more than ever, she felt curious about them.\n\n\"I mean you no harm- darkness feels oppressive yet, never does it lie. I assure you, there is nothing here that intends any ill will. At least- not that the moonlight touches\"\n\nHer common felt clumsy, heavy with the intricacies of elvish flow rather than its intended efficiency. Hopefully, her point was made, she truly meant well. Perhaps this foreigner was here on some noble quest, a shadow of mystery amidst the nighttime soundtrack of the forest. Aylera lowered her bow, her vision adjusting to see more clearly. She didn't recognize the form, even through the darkness. It didn't seem elvish, let alone like those of her brethren, which automatically raised some questions.\n\nAs she surveyed, Aylera caught a glimpse of the eyes that lay beneath the figure's hood, softly glowing against their shadowed background. She narrowed her eyes, almost confused at the sight. She had heard of spells and potions that had the effect of illumination, but nothing such as this. Truthfully, she knew not of a race of creatures that resembled that either, at least ones that didn't hail from the mythos of the outside world. She really did need to travel more, but, it was her first time on her own since birth, the young elf barely had finished her training and had decided it best to leave, entirely alone, under the guidance and instruction of Alynthi. Surely this had something to do with her journey from the goddess, even if it were a simple conversation. Dropping her bow, she spoke again, raising her hands as the words left her lips.\n\n\"I am unarmed, I assure you.\"" }, { "author": "Dulcinea", "message": "Dulcinea kept down as they would try to control their breathing. This was bad, very very bad. They couldn't easily hide here. Not when the strange knew they were there. What were they going to do? They didn't know how to handle the situation as they were a but embarrassed and yet on edge with it all. Maybe they could still make a run for it? Sure they were on the ground at the moment but didn't mean they couldn't run. It honestly just didn't seem like it was their night at all.\n\nDulcinea would try and cover their horns after realizing that they would be showing up. They really did hate how their horns did that. It's why they usually kept then covered so as not to deal with that, yet here they were forgetting about such a thing. It all just was too much at the moment it felt like. They didn't believe they could trust the words of this strange. It could easily just be a ploy to make them put their guard down, and they weren't about to do that.\n\nDulcinea signed as they would try to get up slowly. If they were slow maybe they could just leave? Maybe they could go unnoticed. Wait! What were they thinking they could just use a rock or something to make a noise in a different direction! No, they were too panicked to do that... Dulcinea would just sit up and rub their head at this point as nothing was logical going on inside their brain. Too much worry was just a bad mix for someone like them. They couldn't keep their cool when they felt they had been discovered." }, { "author": "savvy.exe", "message": "Aylera continued to approach. She was cautious, speaking gently in the face of someone who was clearly distressed. The closer the elf got to the stranger, the more apparent it was that they were very much not a native resident of the area. In fact, she's never seen anyone who looked like they did- not even in her limited memory of childhood tales of mythos. Glowing... That was a new one. Aylera knew of bioluminescence, as well as a few magical sources of natural beings glowing, but none of which would look like this. It was simultaneously fascinating and intimidating. Still, they seemed too fearful to be a threat, right?\n\n\"It's alright- are you lost? I know this place very well. I will not harm you.\"\n\nAn almost tingle-like sensation called the elven woman's attention to the back of her mind. It felt as if bees were buzzing gently at the back of her mind, humming with charge. She blinked- unsure of what the sensation was. Again, her education had failed her slightly as she was entirely new to whatever this... Magic- or at least that's what she assumed it was- did.\n\nAs she got closer, Aylera's vision began to adjust better to the darkness, peering carefully under the hood of the stranger. She was within a socially-acceptable distance now, and that buzzing just felt ever-more present.\n\n\"Good evening, ah- are you alright?\"\n\nThe fear from the stranger seemed to ooze off of them. It was concerning, really, how strongly they seemed to feel that they were in danger. Aylera did her best to maintain a neutral, if not kind face. Her curiosity was getting the better of her, though, as she continued to look at this odd person. It was her first experience with a race she was unfamiliar with, and she couldn't help but feel fascinated." }, { "author": "Dulcinea", "message": "Dulcinea had gone to holding their knees close as they had tried to hide themselves. It was no use of course as they were noticed and approached. The stranger seemed kind but were they kind Dulcinea didn't know. They thought the darkness could be a friend tonight but it didn't seem so.\n\nDulcinea would try to hide their face, it wouldn't be something the strange would want to see, a void that only wad glowing eyes. No features to even look human. This is what scared others and make them fear the Scathis, especially when there was so few of them. Bad luck and such is what was associated with them. \n\nDulcinea would shake their head, they didn't want to say they were lost. Sure they were but it wasn't something they wanted to tell. Speaking was the worst part, it's what really made a scathis seem evil. A voice that sounded like many speaking at once. Dulcinea couldn't write in order to speak and their common was bad a lot worse than this strangers. They had filled a book worth of them trying to speak with others.\n\nDulcinea would look up though at being asked if they were alright. They were hardly so, terrified was more like it but what could they do about it? It was a normal reaction for them with strangers. Their white eyes was all Aylera could see below the hood of this Scathis" }, { "author": "savvy.exe", "message": "Aylera paused, taking in the sight before her. They... Didn't have a face- no, they had no features at all aside from their eyes. She was hard-pressed to make a definitive opinion of the stranger, but the sight of them did leave her at a loss for words. What *Was* She to say to such a person? She couldn't help but feel innately intimidated, albeit everything about this person's body language suggested otherwise.\n\n\"No harm will come to you...\"\n\nShe attempted to sound reassuring, observing their responses carefully.\n\n\"If you need help finding your way, I should feel honored to assist. You Can Understand me- yes? I- I apologize, if you don't wish to speak- or can't-\"\n\nAylera stopped herself there, stumbling over her words in a frankly feeble attempt to demonstrate her complicated feelings. She meant what she said, the woman wanted to help- she just wasn't sure how. She kept her distance now, staying still as she continued to observe.\n\n\"I have made a small camp if you would like to join me- or I can point you in the direction you would like to go. I must say I know this area very well.\"\n\nAs she spoke she gestured to the small, now barely more than coals, fire. Sounds of the night filled the chilled air around them, but Aylera could barely hear them over the sound of her own heart pounding in her chest. Who was she addressing? What were they? The wood-elven woman truly had no idea." }, { "author": "vrba_0475_._", "message": "It probably won't be till tomorrow since I'm more tired as fighting off a cold right now" }, { "author": "Dulcinea", "message": "Dulcinea would still be a bit caught up in their own state of fear. They didn't know what to do and it still just felt as if everything was turning into a big mess. Dulcinea would be trying to seem small with their knees up to their chest as they wrapped their arms around them. Maybe this was just how things ended for them. This all was just the spiral of fear talking.\n\nThough after a bit they would start to listen and think a little rational. But they still were in a state of panic. Taking in this strangers words of having a camp they could join at and could get some help out of the forest. Maybe such a thing wasn't so bad? Dulcinea would unwrap their arms a bit as they thought it over a bit. The stranger really didn't seem bad but also Dulcinea could tell they didn't know what to make of this situation either. \n\nDulcinea looked over at the now barely going fire, it didn't deem like much of a camp at this point. Though Dulcinea had also not planned for a fire themselves since they wanted to look at the stars. A fire wasn't really needed for them since their body just seemed to work differently. It also made a lot of normal interactions to not be so easy. What were they kidding? No interactions was ever easy or normal. That was just part of them being a scathis. Though maybe it would be okay for one night. They could leave if something became dangerous and they wouldn't be drugged since they didn't eat. Getting up slowly Dulcinea would look towards the camp. They could hide themselves with the cloak so it would be fine... Just the glowing eyes made it harder for them to hide their was some type of difference in them." }, { "author": "Aylera Mialar", "message": "Gently ushering the stranger over toward the fire, Aylera pulled a fallen log a few feet to make space for them. She dusted it off, and with a satisfied sigh, offered them a place to rest. She took some kindling to the fire speaking as she moved about, to not make them feel any more threatened. She was sure they were, judging by their body language- or, well, what she could make of it.\n\n\"Is there somewhere specific you're trying to go? Or- perhaps a direction?\" Aylera paused and turned to the figure. Seemingly forgetting her manners. Oh! Pardon my manner- my name is Aylera. I have not seen many others out here, aside from the guard that patrols some mornings and evenings.\"\n\nWith a bit of help from a few breaths of controlled air, the fire began to bloom forth once again. Still, it was small, but it suited the pair.\n\n\"So, about where you're traveling- ah, here.\"\n\nTaking the cover off of the end of her spear, she stepped a good few feet from her new companion for the night. In an open patch of earth, she drew a simple compass, peering quickly at the stars through gaps in the canopy to confirm her writing. She'd need to resharpen its carefully crafted edge again, but it wasn't like she was preoccupied with much else.\n\n\"You can show me which direction you'd like to go. You can write too- if you'd like.\"\n\nOn that note, the wood-elven woman covered and set her spear down gently, as well as gathering a few sticks. Unsure of which the stranger would like to use, she left them options." }, { "author": "Dulcinea", "message": "Dulcinea would follow the stranger. They were still nervous but it would be alright. They just had to calm themselves down. Watching Aylwea pull over a fallen log for them before heading off to fix the dwindling fire. Dulcinea would sit down as they would watch. It was a rare occasion that they would sit with someone by the fire.\n\nDulcinea would listen to Aylera going on with the questions on where they might be going. It was a bit overwhelming but they would just sit and listen. It was good knowing that this stranger didn't want to know exactly what they were. After they would get done with the question and the fire was now more back to life Dulcinea would look into the fire. Their eyes glowing with the firelight though the rest was still hidden under the hood. \n\nThey would tilt their head as they watched Aylera start to use their spear to make up a compass? That was just what they thought it was but didn't know. They could now start writing out answers they thought but didn't know if their writing would be very good.\n\nTaking out their notebook to write in probably would work best, yes? Least that is what they thought as they would start to work on it. After a bit they would show their notebook to Aylera. \"I been trying to go to capital. I travel for a long time. Going to the find teacher. I'm Dulcinea. I don't know direction to capital.\" Dulcinea hoped it wasn't too broken up to understand though that was also very possible. \"Aylera, pretty name. Sorry so scared.\"" }, { "author": "Aylera Mialar", "message": "The elf had continued to busy herself until she noticed the stranger writing. Aylera stepped closer again so that she could read the message. The writing of the stranger- of Dulcinea, was quite understandable. Despite the apparent language barrier, the two had successfully communicated, which caused a soft smile to ripple across Aylera's lips.\n\n\"Ah, I see, thank you. It is a pleasure meeting you, Dulcinea. It is quite alright to be frightened, especially if you have been traveling without seeing a friendly face in a while. I can help you, do not worry.\"\n\nWith that, the wood-elven woman made her way back to the compass she drew. From there, she peered up at the stars again, recalling the many maps she has memorized during her training.\n\n\"Do you read the stars? I use the constellations to help me orient myself when I get lost. I know it's a bit difficult in the woods, but it can be done. Here-\"\n\nShe pointed herself toward the direction of the capital, almost due west from their location. Turning her head, Aylera as she spoke again, gesturing.\n\n\"Just this way west and slightly south, it's a bit farther- perhaps a few miles. It shouldn't take more than a half-day if I'm not mistaken. There will be a paved path once you get closer, taking you right in. If you look at the stars...\"\n\nShe paused, turning her attention upwards at a particularly clustered set of stars, glittering in the clear evening air.\n\n\"These- I do not know the colloquial term, but these... Stars point you where you need to go. If you get lost, look at them, as well as the sunset.\"\n\nWith that, Aylera returned to the fire, sitting on a particularly plush bit of grass nearby. Her eyes remained on Dulcinea, awaiting a response. What a fascinating person to come across- there was certainly no one she had ever met in her feeble wanderings yet that could ever compare. She had a feeling this person was not a common sight either, wherever they had originated from, and she was just happy to help." }, { "author": "Dulcinea", "message": "Dulcinea flinched slightly at having the elf get close. They knew they shouldn't be but it was hard not to when it had been a normal thing for them for a long time. At seeing Aylera smile they guessed that the text was understood enough. It wasn't great but it was still able to let them both talk. Least without using telepathy. They were really going to help? This was a bit of a relief as they didn't want to be lost in the forest for too long. It was also good to know a path would come about once they got closer to where they needed to go.\n\nAylera was very different from others they had met while traveling, she was friendly and also quick? That seemed about the right way to put it. Quick, quick with words and actions. Though maybe it was a normal thing for her race or it was just their personality? Aylera was also very kind, she didn't judge them for seeming to be different, though they also hadn't spoken or used telepathy which was always a change most didn't like because they got scared or thought it was more than just telepathy.\n\nDulcinea knew the stars quite well, it was something they had done through their years for a past time. They had gotten into trouble quite a few times for vanishing and making their parents worry. Though reading then to find her destination? Way having Dulcinea thought of that before, least they could have headed into the correct direction at least.\n\nDulcinea started to write once again as they thought of what to say, could they make what they wanted come out clearly? It was so hard when they didn't know any language well, but maybe it was easier just to ask? \"Have read stars, each tell story. Had not thought of using to find way though. Have Aylera done telepath? Talk with mind?\" They hoped the last part would be easy enough to understand. Some didn't get it right away and just jumping into someone head wasn't the best way to deal with it either. Dulcinea horns really were itchy lately, but pulling down their hood wasn't a good." }, { "author": "Aylera Mialar", "message": "The sounds of springtime filled the seemingly reverberating silence that was this one-sided conversation. Aylera didn't find it a bad thing, she was just happy to communicate. The crackle of wood sending sparks soaring was a comforting one, accompanied by a brisk breeze, and bugs beginning to emerge. How interesting was Dulcinea, quite the foreigner to the wood-elven woman. As she read, she nodded along. The stars were filled with quite fascinating mythos, The House of Elk had instilled a great sense of marvel at them in her.\n\n\"They do indeed.\"\n\nNow, telepathy was another story. She had heard of it, certainly, but it was so shrouded in mystique it almost sounded like a myth itself. Sure, it was indeed possible, but it was most certainly unexpected. Although thinking about it, this person with glowing eyes *And* Horns was just as unexpected. Aylera reacted with that surprise, attempting to stifle it slightly to not be abhorrently rude.\n\n\"Telepathy- well, I haven't done it. I know of it, I've heard stories- but it is quite rare I believe. I'm sorry- pardon my surprise.\"\n\nShe let the awkwardness of her reaction settle with a laugh to offset the distaste.\n\n\"Anyhow- is that how you... Speak? If so I'd be honored to... Hear you? To speak with you would be lovely, this language is not a very lovely one on the tongue, no?\" Aylera joked, but agreed with her own sentiment. Common was not her mother tongue either, but she doubted the two shared the same native language. Despite that, speaking was arguably better than writing, especially with the differences between the characters of various languages." }, { "author": "Dulcinea", "message": "Dulcinea wrung their hands a bit after listing to Aylera. They didn't know if they should use telepathy or not. What if it turned out bad and they were scared of Dulcinea worse? Though they decided to just take the plung and tried to talk telepathic.\n\nWhat Aylera would hear was her native language next \"Please don't get scared. I really don't mean any harm... Uh... Yes, this is how I can speak besides writing... It scares others less\" Dulcinea would shake their head as they looked down at their lap, this was now the point of finding out if it was going to be okay or not.\n\nThey really didn't want to have someone scared or hating them right now. It was also hard to fully think with how their horns itched but they knew if Alyers saw their face it would be the end. No one would want to see a void with nothing there at all. Least no one had yet to besides their parents. They wished they weren't such a feared race just because they looked different than others would." }, { "author": "Aylera Mialar", "message": "The wood-elven woman turned her eyes up to the stars, letting her posture relax slightly. She wasn't afraid- more apprehensive. As she heard Dulcinea's voice fill their mind, she looked back at the shadowed stranger. She pursed her lips. The tingle she had felt previously seemed to match with the stranger's communicative abilities. Aylera made little movement with her body now, for fear of scaring them more than they already were.\n\n\n\"I see. Fear not, I know you mean no harm at all. I assure you, I'm not scared.\" Looking back to the stars above, Aylera gently flicked a piece of hair that had managed to come loose around her face. \"It's... Interesting, the way you speak. I must say, I've never met anyone quite like yourself. I suppose that explains why you're concerned about my opinions- and again, rest assured that I don't fault you for it. I surely don't know your story, nor you mine. I'd assume a bit of apprehension is to be expected, no?\"\n\nA small smile touched her lips as she observed the constellations, the flicker of the fire reflected in her gaze. Aylera wasn't sure how impolite it would be to impose herself on the stranger's life. Yet, she couldn't quite fight the temptation of curiosity. If anything, she'd still like to help where she could. In her newfound devotion, being of assistance to others seemed the obvious choice to spend her time. She'd had enough contemplation over her own problems, it seems spring brings with it new prospects after all. \n\n\"Anyhow- you mentioned looking for a teacher, correct? And you're traveling all the way to the Capitol to do so?\"\n\nThe forest was all she knew, it'd be good for Aylera to do some traveling as well. She couldn't help but wonder if the world had treated Dulcinea kindly, given her fear. Clearly not, but she hoped all the same. At the very least, Aylera hoped to be a kinder face." }, { "author": "Dulcinea", "message": "\"My... Voice is hard to understand and it is complicated. It's always been easier for me to talk like this though a lot have been fearfully of the way I talk. I had to write for most of my travels here.\" Dulcinea felt a bit more at ease at knowing Aylera didn't seem to be scared of how they talked. It wasn't the most common way to speak but it was better than a voice that sounded like many everytime. If they'd been born differently it wouldn't be a problem, they wouldn't have to fear speaking or showing themselves but they had to do that here. It just made life harder in the end.\n\nLooking up at the stars always made them feel better, they just felt like they were more connected to the stars since how they were born and how their skin took on a slight stary sky. Though no one would usually see this since it wasn't something they shared but hid. \n\nThey hoped to not be asked to have something to eat as that was something they didn't care to explain or try to. It just wasn't possible for them to try food, it was nice they never felt hunger, though they wished some things were still normal for them even just to try something. Shaking their head they'd let such thought go for the time being.\n\n\"I had heard there was good teachers there... Most on my travels have been unwilling to teach me so I just been continuing to go to the capital. I don't have much magic stamina so many don't see me worth the time to teach. I can understand since they would want ones that can grow faster and learn easier. I wouldn't fit in that area is all.\" \n\nDulcinea would shrug as they looked back down at their hands, they were covered as well to keep their skin a secret. Though they wished it wasn't the case tonight and they could be themselves. That fear just simply stayed to not trust anyone with what they were. They never knew who might be the wrong one to trust." }, { "author": "Aylera Mialar", "message": "They were blessed to have such a clear night above them. Aylera kept her eyes fixated on the stars above, their patterns woven into her mind through hours of study. She knew this forest like the back of her own two hands, it was interwoven- or was supposed to be, with her very soul. At Dulcinea's words, she nodded gently, allowing her eyes to relax and close for a moment. It felt as if it would be awkward to try to make eye contact as they spoke, given their obvious difference in communication. \n\n\"Growth is a matter of time, though. At least, that is what I believe. You see, Dulcinea, I do not know about you, nor you I. But I believe I can say that when it comes to the study of magic, it is in the time you spend dedicated to the craft that you truly perfect it. I can certainly say that the 50 years I spent learning as a child, as well as the 30 I spent in dedicated training still have yet to make me an expert in any subject.\"\n\nShe laughed lightly, looking back toward the stranger. Aylera was quite curious about their appearance but tried not to pry too harshly, resolving to look at one point of interest at a time- then glancing back to the stars or the woods surrounding them.\n\n\"I'm sure you'll find what you're looking for in due time. You seem magical enough as it is.\" She joked, letting another small chuckle escape her lips before realizing how that may come across. \"I mean- well, it's fairly obvious that you're different than I or anyone I've seen in these parts. And that's a lovely thing, truly. But I understand your concern for these differences. I may not be able to speak for others, but I can say that I find you quite fascinating.\"\n\nAylera allowed a reassuring smile to spread across her lips before she moved to stoke the fire a bit. \"So, have you been traveling very long? I imagine a journey such as yours would require a lot of dedication, no?\"" }, { "author": "Dulcinea", "message": "\"I spent my whole life trying to do magic... I only can do this and move small objects. I'm kind of hopeless for learning types of magic I suppose.\" Dulcinea would look at the fire as they got a bit more used to being around the new stranger. Aylera seemed kind of uncomfortable around them? Maybe they shouldn't have talked like their were? \"You don't have to avoid looking at me, I know I probably look a bit different with the hood kind of... Covering everything? But I'm still normal to talk with even if I am more comfortable talking this way. It just ends the language barrier since you hear your language when I speak like this.\" \n\nDulcinea wished that they were able to feel a bit more at ease though at their looks. Their horns were still causing a lot of irritation with the itching feeling. Maybe they should have left so they could deal with the problem. \"I'm pretty much the least magical race out here... So I don't think I can do that. But it would be nice if I could learn something more? I don't know if I will even be able to though.\"\n\nDulcinea would get tired of their horns and just give up, pulling down their hood to start scratching at the base of their horns. Aylera now getting to see how they really looked, skin that is almost pitch black with dark shades of purple and some lighter shade of purple. Their eyes being complete white, their horns going from a light purple to white. Only a few areas of her skin having specks of white almost like the stars in a night sky. \"Uh... Yes, I been traveling for a very long time. Though I really don't know how long it's been. Lots of well moons of travel?\"" }, { "author": "Aylera Mialar", "message": "Tossing another branch she had gathered into the flames, Aylera found her eyes drawn away from the flickering to Dulcinea. Their words had a particular bite to them that made the wood-elven woman wary of their attitude. She didn't blame them, to feel self-conscious is a shared experience- despite the two's inherent differences. Her eyes softened as she was called out, cheeks flushed a warm hue in the dim light.\n\n\"I apologize- I mean no disrespect. Worry not about your appearance. I admit, you are new to me- but so is the rest of the world outside of this wood\" She paused to smile down at the earth under her feet. \"I know not of much outside this place, and I am sure I know nothing about you, but I can say you at least seem extremely magical. I highly doubt that you are anything less, Dulcinea.\" Her accent held onto the vowels of their name, its pronunciation a new taste on her tongue. Aylera simply couldn't believe they *Wouldn't* Be able to learn more. By their appearance, they seemed practically made for the craft.\n\nFinishing off the minor adjustments to the fire, Aylera stood. She stretched to the side gently, earrings and little silver adornments in her hair quietly jingling in the night air. The woman continued to peer at Dulcinea before turning to sit once more, pulling a few blades of grass to weave and keep her hands occupied. \"I see. Then it seems that your time of travel may pause soon. The capital is quite close to here, about a half-day if I am not mistaken. I know some magic, I wonder what variant you wish to learn.\"\n\nShe paused her weaving as a thought appeared before her eyes. Did this stranger happen to seek faith? Aylera wouldn't push such a prospect so quickly, yet she felt compelled to- just a bit \"Do you take interest in the forest that surrounds us? In the lifeblood of all that it houses. Perhaps? Ah- you must forgive me, that sounds rather foreboding\". With a laugh, she flicked her wrist in a quick dismissal of herself." }, { "author": "Dulcinea", "message": "Dulcinea would be still scratching their horns base as was still bothering them. Sure they didn't mean to call out Aylera in a bad way. But they also were not well with emotions or understanding them. One of the problems with being something that just wasn't easily meant to be in the world.\n\n\"You shouldn't worry, I don't take offense. I don't... Understand emotions and such. It's... I don't know how to explain I suppose.\" They would look up at the stars at Aylera saying them seemed magical. They were magical but it didn't mean they were able to use magic the same as others to any degree. \"Magical, miracle. Can say I'm a lot of things but able to do magic is not one of them. I'm a sort of... Mistake thought as evil because of how I do not act or seem normal. I'm simply a void that takes in magic and can't produce it.\"\n\nDulcinea liked Aylera's adornments, they were pretty and made pretty sounds. Like the sound of the wind against a small bell. \"I just want to try any, I will never be able to master anything and any I do will be small or be a limit.\" Shrugging was all they could in a situation where expressions was not possible for them. It was one thing that again made many think of them as a monster because of the lack of such things.\n\n\"I know of the goddesses and gods. Their ways I was taught as a child. Though believing they mean good is hard to believe when many see me not as good but evil. A child between a aasimar and tiefling, born from love yet is born as a complete void in all ways. How can they mean good when many times if my kind live we die young because others believe us evil or we are killed by our parents out of mercy from the life we will live in fear?\" Dulcinea simply shook their head, there was no real emotion to what they had just said, no sadness, or pain. They just spoke as if it meant nothing." }, { "author": "Aylera Mialar", "message": "Continuing her weaving, Aylera allowed her eyes to relax. Dulcinea truly was a different kind of person, completely foreign in both idea and appearance. It was fascinating, their body of void and illuminated features. She thought about what they were saying, feeling as if they were evil or limited due to their heritage. Aylera understood that, to an extent. She may have been the same race as others in the House of Elk, but she was an outsider in a place very organized in their tradition. Dulcinea was no doubt feeling ostracized- a mix of tiefling and aasimar? Aylera had never heard of such a thing- but that didn't matter, what mattered was how it made them feel- despite their unfeelingness toward it.\n\n\"You know not what you are capable of, Dulcinea. I may not be able to speak for others, but if I may speak on behalf of Alynthi, you are not evil in the Great Mother's eyes. Evil takes hold in those who reject to appreciate the wonder of the natural world and those who reside in its holdings. You have been spared from a tragic fate, which, is arguably a testament to your presence being appreciated in this world.\"\n\nHer fingers flicked back and forth with adept skill. Pulling in more blades of grass to weave, she clicked her tongue slightly, having to redo a quick stitch. \"I much dislike those that manipulate the gods' will into something discriminatory. The same can be said for those who do the same with magic. I must say, I am very much under the impression that with enough time and dedication, one without a speck of magical history running through their veins is completely and utterly capable of learning to become a master. Now- it is not easy, that is for certain, but rest assured that it is more than possible\".\n\n.\nAylera began to add a few elements of texture into the design, its small size full of intricate patterning. The elf spent more time than she'd like to admit creating the little trinkets, often spent in meditation over her prayers. Perhaps with this, she would be able to gift the stranger before her with a bit of extra confidence that someone believed in them, if not a touch of luck from the gods. Goodness knows they seemed to deserve it.\n\n\"I'd be happy to teach you some of what I know if you'd like. However, I must say that I am a spiritual soul, and my magical practice happens to revolve around it\"." }, { "author": "Dulcinea", "message": "Dulcinea didn't know why they were even bringing up the difference things from their life. They supposed they felt at ease? It all just seemed a bit strange to them but they would try to understand why someone was thought they could do something like magic. They had been trying for a long time and the little magic they could do was from that studies. Two spells or abilities was all they had. They could use telepathy and move small objects a short distance. Anything else had really be frivolous when trying.\n\nDulcinea looked up at the stars a bit, maybe they were to come here for a reason? The gods were not something they completely followed as they didn't have the same understanding to follow fully but they did know they had to have come from them some. Everyone had come from one or another god so it was only natural yes? \"I think you will find I'm not able to be any master in any art. Just because I'm not evil doesn't mean others have not seen me as do. Being something new makes many uncomfortable? Least that is what I have been told. Though... Understanding any type of emotions doesn't seem to work? I try to understand them since I can't understand them... It's difficult to learn such things when you don't feel them yourself. I know what love looks like but don't feel it?\"\n\nDulcinea would just shake their head as it was always difficult trying to explain it. How could they explain not understanding most things since they didn't experience them. \"Any magic to learn is helpful, but I can't pay a lot. This is why most don't like the idea of teaching me either since I'm not wealthy? Least that is what some have said as they walk away laughing. My parents said I'm connected to the sky and stars... Constellation mage? I think that was what they called it? I don't remember what but I just feel close with the stars.\" Maybe such information could help but Dulcinea really didn't know what was helpful or not. Though they were trying go be a bit helpful on it." }, { "author": "Aylera Mialar", "message": "Pondering Dulcinea's words, Aylera bit her bottom lip gently. It was an old habit she'd tried to kick, but there was no getting rid of it now. Her shadowy new acquaintance was quite the fascinating subject, if not for their appearance alone. The elf had simply never met someone so *Different. It seems they too struggled with the world around them- but perhaps she should stop comparing them, given these differences. Instead, she nodded along, taking a long moment before replying. Her voice was more quiet than before, as the evening sounds turned into a quiet night.\n\n\"There would be no need for money- at least in my case. I'm not very familiar with celestial magic, but I know enough about the natural world and some to use for self-defense. I can't say I'm very sure of how magical education is conducted outside of the woods, but if you're interested in what I know, I'd be happy to help.\"\n\nFinishing off her little weaving project, Aylera set down what was now a tiny basket. She stayed seated, but, with a flick of her hand and a whispered prayer, three little orbs of light popped in the air before them. They hung just underneath the branches of nearby trees, pulsing as if with a heartbeat of their own.\n\n\"I was once taught that if magic is not innate, that it may come from several other places. Devotion, concentration, and of course, intense study. Even when it is innate, those who attempt to use it without proper training are often remiss to do so\". Her eyes flicked back to Dulcinea as she spoke,\"But I found that 'proper training' is subjective, and often distinguished as such because of some bias. In my case, much of what I can do is the result of 30 consecutive years of practice more than the teachings I had\".\n\nShe sat back, crossing her legs at the ankles, eyes returning to the lights.* \"If you feel a calling to the stars, then I'd consider that a sign from whomever or whatever you may believe in. The gods at fate do not lie about such things\"." }, { "author": "Dulcinea", "message": "Dulcinea didn't know what was best. They didn't need to know celestial magic since they could hardly do any that they did already. It didn't bother them to learn other types but could they even learn them? It was just hard to know. \"Uh well I don't have to know celestial magic. Levitation isn't exactly a celestial one so it doesn't bother me learning something well else. I can't say I will do well learning it though.\"\n\nDulcinea would look at the small basket, it seemed interesting. They hasn't seen someone make something like that. It seemed interesting to learning to do actually. Not like it really could help them in any way. Though what really became something interesting was the light orbs that would be formed. Though they did look down as they wanted to cover their face to the light. A reflex to always having to hide before since they feared others seeing them. \n\n\"I been studying a long time, most of my life to try and learn other types... I only been able to learn though two things so uh... That's probably not something I will be able to do.\" Dulcinea would look up slightly as they did think about what Aylera was saying. Maybe she was right? But to what type of fate was it to be something that would die alone? They couldn't have a family of their own and relationships were... Hard to say the least even just a friend was something they never had before." }, { "author": "Aylera Mialar", "message": "Aylera's eyes flicked back to Dulcinea, their words reverberating in her mind- both literally and figuratively. Their life was not an easy one, that much was obvious, but she couldn't help but feel as though they needed a belief in something to continue. Even if it wasn't themself to start, she couldn't imagine a life without some hope- and hers happened to come from the Mother herself. She stayed quiet as the lights she had conjured drifted as if carried by a breeze that didn't exist.\n\n\"Regardless of where you stand now, there is always time for fate to hit you with something new. Truly, we know not what will happen with each passing second, even with the greatest predictions. Fate, gods, the stars, the higher power at play operates without us, yet all depends on our decisions. Hah, quite the conundrum, no?\"\n\nHer voice was notably soft now, mimicking the lights. It was complicated, this self-discovery. Aylera felt it herself and saw it in her new companion. She watched their movements carefully, allowing herself to be at ease.\n\n\"Do you look to the stars when you feel lost? I have many similar practices- although I admit they serve a more devotional function. Nevertheless, I find them all the same, no matter what or whom one believes in. And you are not alone in that experience, no matter how... Different you feel you are. Fate has a funny way of gifting us all this shared feeling in one way or another\".\n\nOn that note, she looked to the stars again. \"I stand by what I had said before. Higher powers do not lie about such things. A calling is a calling, no matter how distant it may feel now\". Moving out of the theoretical discussion, she gestured upwards. \"These are not a gift from simply existing, my abilities stem from practice, much the same as what you are doing. It took education from those wiser than I to even begin the process, and I think you are right to seek that\".\n\nHer eyes probed under Dulcinea's hood, softly smiling, \"You know, your eyes remind me a bit of these lights\"." }, { "author": "Dulcinea", "message": "Dulcinea took time to look at the orbs, they were really amazing to them. It would be interesting to learn something like that, making light could be fun if they even could make a tiny pebble size. \"Fate doesn't seem very... Happy? With me usually. I think they all just like to play lots see who gets to decide each day for the ones living.\"\n\nDulcinea didn't know why they were willing to be around this new companion. She didn't seem bad but they also knew they were hardly normal. They didn't know the way someone talked could mean differently. Just another problem they seemed to face. This was why they usually were alone anyways. Though they would looke at the new companion when asked about their reasoning with the stars. \"I don't know what lost feels like, but I suppose it would be? I look to them whenever I can, I suppose because of the stories my parents told me about being from them or like them.\" \n\nDulcinea would look down at their hands, they didn't feel any calling though. It was just a want to learn and not hide till they died alone? They look at Aylera and blink in confusion. They looked like the lights? Most wouldn't say that, but it seemed nice? Though they hoped it was meant as a good thing they didn't really know. \"Uh... That's a good thing? I believe you mean it as but I don't know if it is.\"" }, { "author": "Aylera Mialar", "message": "Aylera let out a soft hum as she reached to stoke the fire once again. It was normal to question what one didn't know. So much was the spice of life, everyone was guilty of it. It was no sin to question what one is told, only a sin not to do so. All are entitled to their beliefs, even if they disagree. Still, the elven woman was hard-pressed not to push her divinity.\n\n\"Mmm, I do mean it as a good thing, and I agree with your parents in your similarity. Like I said, my abilities are a gift, much the same as yours. However, I do not mean to make you question your purpose, that much is certainly in your own hands- and fate, if you choose to believe in it. In my own opinion, I see your resemblance to the heavens\".\n\nShe probed the fire gently, sending more sparks into the air as the lights began to dim and flicker out. It was simply their time, a glimmer in the world that fades just as quickly as it sparkles above.\n\n\"Lights may come and go, as will we in time. Yet, for now, we continue to persist. I think it a worthy use of time to pursue something such as you are, a noble one even, given your thoughts on fate\".\n\nA soft laugh came from the elf as she continued to poke at the fire. It was a bit unnecessary, sure, but she enjoyed it- and she wouldn't question that. Their conversation was enlightening, even if it were to end there. Even so, she hoped she had given Dulcinea something to think on, however their mind may work. Two souls entirely different meeting under the stars. That in and of itself sounded like the work of fate to her." }, { "author": "Dulcinea", "message": "\"I don't know, my fate isn't really looking up to being much. I know you say aren't meaning for me to question my purpose. But it's still not... Easy for someone like me to know anything on my fate. I don't exactly do things normally and you can already see I'm not normal. My kind is so rare even I don't have much history on them living long. It's all speculation on most you find about us.\" \n\nDulcinea would look up at the stars after going on about their thoughts of themselves. None were really something that sounds even positive. \"I'm light and dark, a strange mix that doesn't know where it belongs. I just want to do something that can leave a small history of us in a good light. Though my studies don't seem to be very good for that.\" Dulcinea would just shrug as they didn't know what to do with such a predicament. \n\n\"I just wish to learn anything I guess now. I don't live as long as most types do and it's not going to help to keep looking and spending time looking and not learning.\" They would look on at the dying embers as they thought a bit about the end when it might come. \"I never given much thought about doing anything to preserve my history but learning magic and doing something good. But it seems more silly now, when I realize how short of time I really will have in the end. Now I just want to learn whatever I can and be close with the stars. I sound silly I'm sure.\"" }, { "author": "Aylera Mialar", "message": "The elf pursed her lips as she listened, staying quiet for a while after Dulcinea spoke. Gods, it seemed everything reminded her of her childhood friend lately. Varis was back with the House for all she knew, there was no point in dwelling on it. Just... She seemed to find traces of him everywhere. In fact, she could've sworn he'd said almost exactly the same thing about anticipating not living very long. Perhaps she should write to him... No. Not after everything. Instinctively, the woman shook her head slightly to release the thought before tuning back into the conversation at hand.\n\nWhen she spoke next, her voice was notably softer, though not exactly gentle. She'd argued many times with her friend who expected to succumb to addiction in an attempt to break him out of his spell. It hadn't worked, it couldn't have. Despite working so hard to rid herself of the frustration, a familiar pang it her stomach. She did her best not to let it cut through her tone, though. This wasn't Dulcinea's affair, they shouldn't feel the heat of it.\n\n\"I assure you, there is nothing silly about it\". She paused again for a while before speaking again, prodding more at the fire in a desperate attempt at keeping herself from dwelling too hard on the past. \"The only thing that sounds silly to me is the assumption that you must do something to earn a place among the stars. To me, we are all going to end up somewhere lovely, and we do not have to prove ourselves to anyone but to what we believe in- and that is done in many ways. The simplicity of living alone can do such a thing\".\n\nA sign escaped Aylera. \"I apologize, that was a bit much. I just... Feel strongly for you, that is all\". With that, she turned to Dulcinea and gave them a small smile. \"I pray that someday you find that none of this is silly at all. I think your pursuit of goodness is admirable. Many could stand to have aspirations such as yours. I'll pray for your success in every endeavor\"." }, { "author": "Dulcinea", "message": "Dulcinea would just nod slightly, they still thought it was but what good was it to say differently? It would just be a back and forth again to which they didn't care to do. \"Even if it's just living you still are having to do something. There are plenty of different stories that talk about having to earn your place in the next life just as you would need to here in this life. It's just what I am trying to do even if not well.\"\n\nThey knew they haven't done anything really worth being called an apprentice, scholar, or anything really. They spent months and months traveling after having hide for most of their life. So they didn't find it silly to want to do something worthy before they would die. They knew their kind didn't live long from books they had read which were rare indeed.\n\n\"Living alone though will making you also forget to this world. Not all of us wish that... I don't want to be forgotten and let my kinds name be told as evil just because we are rare and different.\" Dulcinea would look up at the stars as they would think for a moment before speaking again. \"Many fear something that doesn't understand as they do, and we don't understand simple emotions or gestures which make others believe us to be as beasts... But yet also a monster because monsters we have no faces and use energy to live... This and because when we die we don't leave behind a child like others? We simply are but a mystery that scars others.\"\n\n\"You don't need to apologize, you seemed you... Needed to say some things. I doubt I will find anything worth noting though for goodness. It's hard to change the past thoughts of ones kind from others. We are told as monsters under the bed to children or something like that. There is more evil told of us than good.\" Dulcinea would look back at her a bit as they thought of it all. It was hard to put into words at times." } ]	408	13,097
710.30303	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Aylera Mialar", "message": "This day, the sun shone radiantly above the unlikely pair as they traversed their way through the forest. Spring in full, the natural world was as lively as can be. Trees regained their full, regal crowns of greenery. The understory was filled with bushes, brambles, and wildflowers. Dewdrops splattered their boots as they hiked, and flocks of colorful birds and young does fled from the crunching of Henryk's steps along a thin deer path. Aylera's footsteps were virtually silent, her careful demeanor clearly learned from their surroundings. They had traversed the countryside rather quickly, more than the wood-elf had anticipated. She was practically frolicking among the tall grasses that kissed her calves as they finally escaped the city's bustle. Crisp morning air caressed their motions, filling the lungs with pure, unadulterated life- or so, that was how it had felt to Aylera.\n\nIt felt like eons had passed since she was back where she was meant to be, back in the realm of her goddess. She knew this place better than any other, it was almost all she had known- but the forests of her ancestry had been buried in her memories for so long that they felt almost as foreign as any other place she knew nothing about. Aylera had led Henryk directly to her preferred place, a small clearing alongside a creek that seemed to sparkle in the daylight. She'd camped here plenty of times during her education, it was her favorite place to escape the monotony of life in the House of Elk. It kept her safeguarded from the regular intervals of patrols, while still allowing her the peace of starlight at night. This place had been her home so many times that a cache of supplies she had left ages ago was still left untouched. Their journey went smooth as can be, with Aylera a master of the directions and Henryk keeping up so well it had honestly impressed the elf.\n\n\"Ah, here we are. This is the perfect place\".\n\nTheir training would officially commence in the morning. Today, they would hunt once they rested. The camp was set swiftly, though it was simple. Two hammocks set a few feet off the forest floor, their packs, a small circle of stones marking a long-used fire pit, a designated log to keep weaponry or other perishable items out of the rain, it wasn't much, but it was everything one could ever need during this time. After all, they were here for alignment, not for pleasure.\n\nOnce everything was set, Aylera stood straight with a satisfied sigh, placing her hands on her hips to rest as she looked at Henryk. \"Well, that's our camp. Now, do you have it in you for a quick hunt before we proceed? If we are to immerse ourselves, we must be prepared\". Despite the seriousness of their intentions, she couldn't help but grin. It felt revitalizing to be back in the domain of Alynthi. Though she may not question the city's inherent benefits, she couldn't begin to imagine choosing a life devoid of pure nature. The paladin picked up her bow from where it rested in the soft grass, running her hand along its smooth wooden belly to remove any residual dew. During the process of setup, she had abandoned her shoes next to her hammock. There was nothing more cleansing than the earth beneath one's feet. Grounding had kept her sane when everything in her life seemed to be falling apart. Now that it was new, it had the same effect." }, { "author": "Doctor Henryk", "message": "The Doctor hadn't been a stranger to the wilderness. He remembered boot camp intimately, as it was only a few years ago, having to learn basic survival skills. Back when he owned his clinic, and had done his own foraging for ingredients, there were times he had to camp in the middle of the night, in the wilderness like this. Those days seem like a distant memory— he truly has moved up far in life in retrospect.\n\nHaving come here with the anticipation to train, he already brought spare cloths he didn't mind getting dirty. He changed into a beige tunic and basic brown pants. He still wore his coat, though with the sun out he had since deposited his coat down when building the camp. He initially wore his leather boots— he saw Aylera go bear foot, her toes digging into the soot. He contemplated taking his boots off, before finally caving in. He may as well immerse himself in the experience, and thus he did.\n\nFeet dug into the dirt, it wasn't necessarily a pleasant feeling. He wanted to understand Aylera, so he did not complain, nor judge how she wished to move through nature. He'd be sure to wash his feet throughly, as well as keep his feet medicated in the event he walks into poison ivy.\n\nStripped down to basically a tunic and slacks, he helped set up the fire pit and hammocks. However, he made an extra addition to the camp. Taking a few flat rocks, he had set up some of his alchemist tools here— an improvised alchemist station which was set up with the other items meant to be outside the rain. He never knew when he needed it, but if they were camping, he would rather have it ready in the event they needed it. He already carried healing remedies and _other_ salves, but, one could never be too cautious in the woods.\n\nNow that everything had been set up, he watched as Aylera had sighed with contentment in her voice. He wondered how Vierna would feel about him taking a sudden camping trip— although, she typically was busy with noble duties, and she knew he took consistent trips outside of he Estate for the purposes of scholarly pursuits and research. This was no exception.\n\nLooking at Henryk, stripped to simple clothing, and without a coat, had displayed a certain level of physicality that would be akin to that of a soldier. Aylera would be able to observe the way his tunic semi-tightly molded around his chest, the way his biceps and triceps revealed their insertions, and notably his developed traps which pushed against the collar of his tunic. One could almost mistake the Alchemist for a seasoned warrior, a body chiseled from decades of training, when in truth Henryk had been simply exploiting the use of Alchemy to enhance himself. The combination of having his Concubi side fed via Vierna, eating more due to being in her employ, and topped with utilizing Alchemy to enhance the efficiency of his training, he had made speedy development in such a short time. With the addition of muscle memory at play, having been a combat medic in the past, these factors all lead to the way he's melded his form now.\n\nThe Doctor listened to what Aylera had to suggest. _A hunt._ He was always more of a gatherer, rather than a hunter, however he wouldn't shy away from a new experience. \"I'm use to foraging, if I were to be frank. I've only risen the bow once or twice in my soldiering days.\" Henryk would admit to her. \"That is not to say I will shy away from a challenge.\" He would then add, sharing with her his own grin. \n\nHe would pace towards her, standing a few feet from her. \"So, how shall we proceed? Are we going to be hunting the traditional way, or should I make my skills useful?\" Henryk had asked, knowing the use of Alchemy could make this infinitely easier— but he sensed that it would defeat the purpose of what they were attempting to achieve here today." }, { "author": "Aylera Mialar", "message": "Clearly the man had been paying attention to his physique. It was staggering, the difference between the man she had met only 5 weeks prior and the man before her now. Aylera, by comparison, had let herself go slightly. It seems so much time spent outside the woods wasn't ideal for the elf. Though her own physique hadn't changed much, she felt her muscles strain harder than they had while she still trained. She couldn't climb, be free of footwear, lest train in any discipline other than the one in her mind. She had conquered fears, and there was no doing that inside the forest- it was too familiar, too comfortable.\n\nStill, her body hungered for movement. Aylera itched to be a child once more, spending her time hunting, admiring the scenery around her, climbing the tallest trees she could find. Something about that felt so divinely nostalgic, curated by the lifestyle that followed every teaching she'd ever had. Yet, she had defied it, seeking some sort of middle ground. The elf wanted to help herself, to then help others. At least that would allow her to fulfill at least some of her predetermined destiny. Having changed back into her shorter skirt, freed from the constraints of shoes, she finally felt a newfound freedom. The scent of change tinged the air around the pair. Each on their own journey, each finding new roads to traverse.\n\nAs much as change was warranted, the appreciation of tradition was rooted in Aylera. During this time, she felt she could rely on it, especially with the difference that was sharing it. Wood elves were so secluded, hidden from the world. Wasn't it about time those outside the forest had a chance to appreciate this way of life? Her teachers' jaws would hit the floor if they could hear that thought, one that broke every unspoken rule in the culture. One didn't simply integrate- one wasn't to know anything unless they devoted their life to this culture. So much was clear when Aylera had come under the House's instruction.\n\nHere, Aylera's apprehension and shyness faded into the greenery. She laughed at the Doctor's statement, though she meant not to be harsh. \"If you learn one thing from this, O' wise doctor, you will find that tradition lies in the heart of these woods\". She moved as she spoke, slinging her quiver over her shoulder, the arrows rattling softly against the sounds of life around them. With a smile, she pivoted on her toes, back turned to Henryk. A gust of wind sent chestnut hairs framing her face afloat, her tone momentarily serious. \"You may know that my kind is rather... Reclusive. To be truthful, I'm not sure the House has a good reason for its secrecy. That is why I left. I disagree with much of the fundamentals of their teachings\".\n\n\"Unfortunately for my vendetta, much of what I learned is going to be exactly what I believe you need, Henryk\", Her smile returned as she turned to face the half-human, bringing the both of them to the tree line. \"As much as I'm sure you're a master at your craft, there is... Spiritual purpose in the avoidance of what my teachers called 'contemporary convenience'. Now, breathe with me\". With that, she whispered a prayer, her tongue slick with elvish. Looking up to the crown of the forest above them, she inhaled deeply, gesturing for him to do the same. Her eyes fluttered shut as she held her breath for a long moment, allowing the feeling of being devoid of life-sustaining air to fill her body until she promptly exhaled. Looking at the doctor with eyes that matched her surroundings, a sprinkle of mischief twinkled in her irises. Petals and leaves around them fluttered in the breeze. In turn with the rhythm of the woods, Aylera offered Henryk her bow and quiver.\n\n\"Lucky you, Alynthi seems to be pleased with your arrival\"." }, { "author": "Doctor Henryk", "message": "His assumptions would be correct. Although he didn't feel disappointed about not displaying his proficiencies in Alchemy, as he was here to learn. Thus, the Doctor, listening to what the elf had to offer, would pay attention. The teacher was speaking, and it was best the student listened.\n\n\"Then you have my faith, Aylera.\" He spoke in reference to her believing she'll teach him what he needs— and he believed that too. Tradition, belief, he sensed that there was a rhyme and reason for everything he would learn today. Where a drill instructor would simply be training him for the sake of toughening him up, he believed that she would provide a greater insight. One he desired.\n\nThus he breathed with her. He recalled when he was in the air, having injected himself with the Investiture of Wind salve. It was hard to forget such a feeling— to be in command of the wind which surrounded you. He drew breath, letting it fill his lungs, before exhaling. He listened to her prayer, and being a Doctor whose met many races, understood what she incanted. His mentor, after all, was an elf. Inhaling, and exhaling, his mind drew back to that sight. How grand Lucidien was in his eyes. How vast the sky was. It wasn't that long ago he floated between the realms of heaven & earth.\n\nAnd when she was done, he noted that playfulness in her step. The mischief in her eyes. Henryk shared with her a smile, his own radiant eyes following her motions. She then offered him a bow and quiver. His eyes studied the two objects, before slowly he laced the quiver over his shoulder, and held the bow with two hands. His mind drew back to a time in the Findaran reserves. He was never a bowmen, but most soldiers learned how to draw a bow and arrow. That knowledge was a distant memory, and he would need some guidance from his Paladin friend.\n\n\"I am honoured.\" Henryk spoke, eyes shifting from the bow to Aylera. \"And, I am eager.\" He would add, shining a smile as he held the bow with confidence. \"Show me your ways, o' wise Paladin.\" He said with a playful tone. Her lightheartedness reflected onto him, and thus, he felt the same way. It was almost like they were _playing._ Yes, it made sense. Teaching and learning should be fun. Children learned fast when they were entertained. Why couldn't it be the same for adults?\n\nHenryk, in this moment, was becoming increasingly attuned to Aylera's demeanour. If he wished to learn her craft, he would open himself up to her and her mannerisms. Even if walking barefoot was somewhat uncomfortable." }, { "author": "Aylera Mialar", "message": "The exhilaration of exploration filled Aylera to her core. Henryk was a willing participant, much more so than she could have ever thought. He had so openly moved with her, begun to follow her ways despite how different they may be. With the sun on her skin, her goddess seemed to be smiling upon them, observing this unlikely situation. Her smile never wavered as she promptly turned her back to him once more, beginning their hunt.\n\nAylera started slowly at first, trotting along the undergrowth, following no path. As they moved, she spoke, dodging branches and brambles almost effortlessly. Plants such as poison ivy and nettles gave her no trouble, the goddess knew how many times she had been exposed to them. The gift of immunity was most definitely not wasted on the elf. Apparently, Alynthi knew no amount of pain or itching would stop the elf from wandering about the woods with her skin exposed. Her footsteps were as careful as they were quick, often bounding off the balls of her feet to leap over fallen logs or strategically moving to minimize sound. She glanced back at Henryk occasionally as they moved, observing how the man reacted to a pathless terrain. To traverse the 'chaos' of nature, there was a craft in carving out one's way through the thickets.\n\n\"Keep your eyes open, doctor, it is the season for turkey, rabbit, and hog\". The methodology of wood elven hunting varied but followed the same core principles. \"We hunt for sustenance only, never for sport nor if we only need one aspect of the animal. We utilize everything, so as not to disgrace Alynthi's creatures. We also take into account several other factors like local populations, the age of the creature, and its state, you understand. Mercy is performed often, but only if the creature serves a purpose. It would defeat the natural cycles of the forest if one were to shoot down a doe with a broken leg only to leave it there. Foremost, we allow nature to perform as it shall without our presence\".\n\nAs the forest grew thicker, the leaves turned dark in the shadows, and only splotches of sunlight filtered their way to the ground. The spots seemed to glow golden, reflecting the warmth of daylight off of the forest floor. A small set of branches had tumbled down here, slowly decaying and covered with soft moss. Aylera waved Henryk over, positioning the both of them to be mostly covered by the wood. Sounds of the forest seemed to grow louder here, a cacophony of birds sounded from all corners surrounding them, rustling of other mammals, wind whispering among the branches above. Here, the elf's voice grew softer, barely more than a whisper.\n\n\"When it is time to shoot, pull the bowstring with two fingers back past your shoulder to your chest. Keep your back straight and use both your eyes on the target, we should be in a place where you can hit dead on\", Aylera explained. The paladin pursed her lips, eyes flicking about before speaking again. \"When in doubt, breathe as we did before, only exhale once you have let the arrow fly. Stalling is an archer's downfall\". She was sure he didn't need a full tutorial, but it likely wouldn't hurt to have a quick review. Her bow was specially crafted by the House of Elk, utilizing lighter wood from the area for the most versatility. Although they weren't often in combat, it was wise to be sure that one's weapon wasn't too specialized for one use, especially in Aylera's situation.\n\nAfter only a minute of observation, a familiar vocalization caught the elf's ear. Silently, she flicked her head in its direction as a particularly bodacious male turkey came waltzing into view. It was the mating season, so its plumage was full and colorful, chittering away as it foraged. This one had apparently wandered in from the outskirts of the forest." }, { "author": "Doctor Henryk", "message": "Henryk followed with a newfound enthusiasm, following behind the Paladin attentively. The sun licked against his skin, the rain from earlier during his temple visit waned now, as the day seemed that much merrier. Thus, it was time to hunt.\n\nThe followed no particular path. He trusted she knew her way back— although, perhaps that may also be part of the challenge. Not dwelling on these thoughts for too long, he watched how her feet moved with cat's grace, moving on the balls of her feet. He would do his best to mimic her, not quiet understanding the flow of motion, moving and leaping over fallen logs with awkward movements, but it was to be expected.\n\nThrough this 'chaos', this maze of a forest, he remained attentive. He remembered his days of foraging in forests for alchemical ingredients. He knew what dangers lurked— he prayed not to tangle with the wildlife of Alynthi.\n\nHe nodded when she told him to keep his eye out for prey. His grip on the bow tightened a bit, as he looked about with an inquisitive eye. He continued to listen to her brief lecture about the principles of hunting. To only hunt to eat, not for sport. Life had its purpose, didn't it? To consume an animal is for it to give its life to sustain oneself. It was a concept he was able to grasp— it'd be unreasonable to hunt other people for game, as we do not consume them. A waste of life. It's the same for animals too.\n\nYes, using every part of the animal. Henryk was already keenly intimate with this fact. \"Some of my medications use animal organs.\" He revealed, speaking in a lower tone, as he didn't want to scare off any potential prey. \"I use to receive organs from the local butcher when I ran my clinic.\" He continued to pace behind her, before eventually, they halted.\n\nJoining her in a crouch, he approached closely to her. Stalling was an archer's folly. Hesitation was defeat. Inaction leads to one's demise. Words he has heard plenty of times, in different variations, before in the past. Be it performing surgery, or taking a life, such as right now. Breathe has he did before with her— breathe as though he had a scalpel in hand, and making an incision across a patient's skin.\n\nThen it entered their sights. A big fat turkey. He remembered Dayanara loving the turkey he made, and thus he sized himself up, rolling his shoulders back. He took an arrow, and placed it to the bow's string. He briefly glanced to her, before glancing back to the turkey. Slowly, he would draw. He took a deep breath, as his mind would draw to the sensation of sliding his scalpel against flesh. The dexterity, the elegance in his sleight of hand, the way he drew seemed somewhat effortless.\n\nWhen he pulled back, he took a moment to approximate the angle in which to shoot the bird. He trusted his skills in trigonometry, he had to cut people all the time. However archery was never a skill in which he honed.\n\nHe would release the arrow, and as it soared, for a moment, Henryk thought he struck that big fat bird. He had believed there was no hesitation— taking a life felt almost easy. At least, when it didn't look like you or speak like you. Instead, Henryk's folly lied in his inexperience with the bow. The arrow would whistle past the bird, alerting it, as it was quick to gobble and break into a sprint.\n\nHenryk had remained in his position in silence, only letting out a sigh of disappointment. \"I missed.\" He would duly note the obvious, before his gaze would slowly turn to Aylera's." }, { "author": "Aylera Mialar", "message": "Aylera's surprise didn't come from his failure, no, she'd anticipated that. Her surprise came from the fact that he hadn't wavered whatsoever. Hazel eyes remained fixed on him during the entire moment. Henryk had done everything right, just missed. As he felt the weight of his misfortune call back onto his shoulders, she stayed quiet. His body language suggested his feelings, but not by much. The man was a carefully calculated individual, despite him slowly opening up to her. It would take some time for him to be more in tune with his emotions. Such was this process, the confidence, and the proper actions were taken, yet all were missed in a matter of moments. This was life. Aylera knew he was not unfamiliar with disappointment, but most people were unfamiliar with accepting the feeling. It wasn't to be pushed aside, it wasn't to be made into anger, it wasn't to be made into self-hatred, it just... Was. Now- Aylera was no scholar or practitioner of perfection, this was simply the wisdom passed down to her. Everyone would struggle with this idea, no one could do it perfectly, but it was beneficial to know.\n\nBirds resumed their chirping as the turkey scuttled away into the distance. The elven woman suddenly broke into a smile, placing a hand on his shoulder. She laughed lightly, not at him, but at the situation. \"Indeed you did\", Allowing herself a moment to regain composure, her hand returned to her side as she stood with a stretch. \"Well, how does that make you feel? Frustrated, disappointed? All of those are natural reactions, no one would expect you to feel otherwise- I mean, they're hard to avoid, no?\". She hopped up on top of the log, extending her hand in an offer to help Henryk up. \"Those feelings are not to be disregarded, but you also mustn't make them into something they are not. Being frustrated or disappointed in missing your mark does not make you any less of what you are. It does not mean the world or the gods or whoever is against you\".\n\n\"You're a smart man, smarter than myself surely. But this applies to all. No matter how one may logically reason out a situation, it doesn't erase your feelings. For instance, as much as you could see the sense in avoiding a confrontation, I'm positive you'd kill if it came to protecting your fiancée\". Aylera paused in her explanation, looking out to the forest around them. \"Unfortunately, our instincts such as those do as much harm as they do good. Speaking for myself, I find it brings self-doubt. Not immediately, but somewhere deeply rooted. To be aligned is to let these feelings simply... Wash over you. They are not to linger any longer than it takes for them to come naturally and leave just as the clouds drift by. You cannot let them take hold anywhere within you.\"\n\nHolding out her hand again, Aylera's gaze fell upon the treetops, looking up to the snippets of the sky above. \"This is not easy. But you didn't come for ease, did you Henryk?\". A breeze struck them as they stood over the undergrowth. Aylera's braids fluttered gently, her skirt only slightly ruffled. The paladin was no classic example for the class, but it was her choice to diverge from her predetermined path. With that came a broadening of horizons, and a need for expansion to understand her new duties. A gentle smile came over her lips once more as she spoke.\n\n\"Alignment is an understanding, as much as it is a respect for the inevitable. After all, we cannot change the past nor predict the future. All our power lies in the present. Now, we must try to shoot again.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Henryk", "message": "Failure, experience, is all part of the road to success. Henryk quietly nodded as Aylera spoke, simply agreeing with the fact he indeed felt disappointed. But, even he knew he was a man not built upon purely success. There were plenty of failed alchemical solutions made, many miscalculations in quantifying ingredients in his salves, and even the deaths of patients. Lives he failed to save settled upon his hands, the grief of their loved ones weighing on his shoulders. Despite this, he moved on all the same. Honing himself so that way the chances of failure become slimmer, and the rate of success becomes larger.\n\nHe let out a hefty sigh, before letting out his own chuckle. Her demeanour rubbed off on him. Her playful nature had been comforting. \"Of course.\" He concurred upon the topic of natural feelings, taking her hand as he pulled himself out from that crouch. He continued to listen, grip loosening on the bow as he placed himself at ease. To not let oneself become deeply emotionally invested in their shortcomings would allow them to acknowledge their faults, and move towards improving them. He understood that, and nodded his head along as she spoke.\n\n\"No, I hadn't come for ease.\" Henryk confirmed to her. \"This road isn't one that's easy.\" The Doctor added, before pacing behind her as they moved. His toes digging into the soot as they moved. Initially, when having gone barefoot, he was self conscious. Now, he almost forgot he was without footwear. \n\nHenryk gave one more prompt nod. \"Well, I can promise I can shoot again.\" He'd say. \"However, I can't promise my aim will true.\" Henryk then added, but with it, the stifling of a chuckle to indicate he spoke from a place of non-seriousness. In all honesty, he sensed the likelihood of him even pegging an animal are slim to none. However, by now, he figured what he was learning wasn't about whether or not he could kill a turkey. It's the moment that matters. The breathing, the mindset, the willingness to let the arrow fly— to be devoid of emotion and do as one must. To be decisive is what Aylera was looking for. The exact moment where body, mind, and spirit align as one and react. To be _in the zone._ The same way a warrior on the battlefield acts with no thoughts, purely on instinct. The same way his mind, body, and spirit honed itself to elegantly cut a patient open in order to save their life. Aylera has made him aware that such an alignment existed— he has experienced it time and time again. To Henryk, this was a lesson to grow awareness that such an alignment exists.\n\nThis was Henryk's interpretation of the lesson. And to his mind, Henryk was picking up fast." }, { "author": "Aylera Mialar", "message": "Fruits of the forest taste sweeter under the warmth of a crimson-colored sky.\n\nThe sun had fallen close to the horizon as the pair exited the forest. On her shoulder, Aylera carried a pair of hares. Each was struck in the eye, and shot by the elf as they continued their adventure in the bounds of the trees. This trip had been quite productive, with Henryk employed to carry an armful of firewood as well as a small bundle of foraged herbs and berries. Their dinner came together quickly with that, consisting of roasted rabbit and wild greens, seasoned with herbs. As they cooked and ate, the sun made its final descent under the edge of the world, casting a bold sunset haze above them. Throughout the whole process, they chattered back and forth. Aylera explained different aspects of her culture, the ecology of the forest, and spirituality within the woods. Henryk was a good listener, but the two engaged in more dialogue than anything. Their playfulness never dulled, seeming sharper as they became more well-acquainted with each others' senses of humor.\n\nOnce they had finished recovering from the activity of the day, twilight had fallen, leaving them standing in the light of the fire. Aylera had decided early on that this wasn't going to be the end of the day for them. She stood, stretching her muscles that had gone cold. The air was cool, but the heat of the sun had warmed the ground. Her movement rustled the clover and violet flowers that now decorated her braids. During the cooking process, she had fashioned Henryk a thin crown of clover, intermixed with yarrow flowers. He had volunteered to cook, so what else was she to do to keep her hands occupied? \n\nThe elf turned to him with the flash of a grin. Refueled and re-energized, it was time for some more action. \"I want to see what you can do. You speak of magic and alchemy plenty, I want to see what you are capable of\".\n\nHer eyes danced in the firelight, observing Henryk's face before turning to the sky. Stars sparkled above, slowly increasing in brightness as night took hold of the heavens. She whispered up to the wind a prayer in elvish, \"Great Alynthi, illuminate me\". As she spoke, she pulled a flower from a braid near her hand, which promptly withered into dust. A breeze carried away what was left of the thing, dust winking out of existence by the wind. Her eyes closed as she breathed in the scent of spring. Three soft lights blinked into existence above them, their light similar to the moonlight that slowly filled the clearing. Each light pulsed softly, a heartbeat of their existence. It was a little spell, but it gave them just enough light to see better in the darkness outside the warmth of the fire.\n\nHer eyes flicked back to the doctor, turning to face him. \"What do you say? Will you spar with me? It feels like it's been ages since I've done this\". Reaching an arm across her chest, the paladin's shoulder cracked. With a flick of her head, so did her neck. Aylera's grin only intensified from there. \"You're full of surprises, Henryk, I'm practically on the edge of my seat.\" Her voice rang with a genuine sort of teasing. He'd been incredibly open to the spiritual practices that Aylera carried, now it was time to test his physical ability. The elf was trained in agility and speed, as well as traditional strength. Personally, she took a more... Acrobatic approach to these traditional tactics. Her joints yearned to be utilized properly, even though they'd likely be sore and stiff tomorrow.\n\n\"No magic. No alchemy. No more prayers. All the more fun that way, is it not?\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Henryk", "message": "The Doctor was always a better forager and scavenger as opposed to a hunter— and so when it came to the collection of herbs and berries, he would surprise Aylera with his ability to identify what was safe and what wasn't safe to eat. Paired with his knowledge of flavour profiles, and overall cooking knowledge. He recounted a time when he treated Vierna to steak back at his old clinic. He cooked for her, and he done so with glee. As the day grew old and the night young, he had taken initiative to cook. Having flayed the hares with his surgeon's skills, carefully taking out the organs and preserving the more desirable meats, Henryk would store the organs for later use. Hare was gamey, not a lot of fat, but with some spices, herbs, and a good sauce he could make it taste delicious.\n\nHenryk made a wild berry sauce. Utilizing his culinary skills he cultivated, he used some of the sugar he kept within his alchemy pack, and berry juice from some of the leftover berries he collected. He cooked this sauce over a medium heat, before proceeding to cook the hares next. Using their thighs and breasts, he seasoned them well using what they've collected. He didn't rush the process, and even did so with great passion. Eventually, once the hare had been cooked through, he plated them on some stones. He poured his improvised berry sauce onto the hares and allowed the pair to feast.\n\nThe relaxation was nice— another aspect of spiritual alignment. Rest. He noted in his studies of Internal Alchemy the necessity to allow one to rest, as it gives time for one to mend their body, mind, and soul. Henryk hadn't removed the flower crown on his head, although finding it mildly childish, he couldn't help but laugh. Although he couldn't promise to preserve this crown, the gesture had been nice all the same.\n\nNow that she had been energized once again, having digested the hare and wild berry sauce, she would surprise him. _Sparring?_ That was something he hadn't done since boot camp. He recounted he had been mediocre at best, knowing the fundamentals, but he was never someone who excelled greatly— however it was necessary to learn as a combat medic. Although hesitant at first, he would nod. \"I haven't brawled with anyone since my days in the reserves.\" He would say, making an audible chuckle. \"Don't bruise me too badly. I don't want my fiancée to worry.\" He added in jest, before standing.\n\n\"I'm going to wrap my fists. I don't want to break my fingers too easily.\" He would rationalize. Moving to his alchemist supplies, he pulled out a set of bandages. Wrapping his hands and wrists, he would offer some bandages for Aylera. \"You too. Protection is important.\" \n\nOnce he had been comfortable, he would let out a hefty sigh. \"I may need a prayer or two.\" He would say, flashing a smile, before twisting over to her. \"Okay. Lets begin.\" \n\nThe Doctor would call on memories of his training. He would take a slightly squared stance, left leg forwards, bent slightly, ready to be risen quickly if necessary. His hands hand been risen up, wrists bent inwards slightly as the Doctor had been ready to use his forearms and elbows as protection for his face. This was a stance that was rather typical to see pugilists use— a squared stance to allow the fighter to shell up, as well as kick and keep someone away with their lead leg. It was evident Henryk had some training, and wasn't totally inexperienced. \n\nHenryk had always been a somewhat passive combatant, being someone who'd rather observe and react— a man who was more tactful, and wasn't going to run in blindly. He liked to study and breakdown what a person would do, and this situation was no exception. He anticipated he wasn't going to excel, but, he trusted Aylera wouldn't hurt him badly. \n\nHe narrowed his eyes, and exhaled cooly from his mouth. He was ready to play." }, { "author": "Aylera Mialar", "message": "They started slowly- or better said: Aylera started slowly. Her stance mimicked Henryk's, lunged in a way that kept her center of gravity low. The bandages on her wrists and hands felt odd but were not unwelcome. The elf was known to give her joints a thorough workout, and they'd likely benefit from having some of the pressure dispersed. The first swing missed, with the doctor dodging swiftly. Her grin grew, and from there they picked up the pace.\n\nBlows blocked, kicks dodged, and the two began to pick up steam. Once he began to strike back, Aylera's heart quickened. To escape one of his attempts, Aylera pivoted on the ball of her foot, tossing herself backward as he lunged for her. A swift back handspring allowed her to escape, the motion having her land on her hands, splitting her legs midway through. With an immediate push off of her shoulders and hands, she back onto her feet in a flash of motion. With a shake of her head to fix her braids, the elf was practically giddy with adrenaline.\n\n\"Now that's what I'm talking about doctor, not bad at all!\"\n\nMoving on, Aylera increased the pace again, dropping lower to attempt to sweep Henryk's legs from underneath him. He dodged. Good. When he hopped away, she twisted to the side in a deep lunge. Pushing off of one foot, she kicked hard over her head, using a side aerial to keep him on his toes. The motion flipped her to the opposite direction of where the doctor had moved. She wasted no time in throwing another set of blows, which he effectively blocked, but would likely leave a nice bruise.\n\n\"Catch me if you can!\"\n\nHenryk had gotten close to hitting her many times now, with her agility being her saving grace. Close calls made her even more excited, and the two were breathing hard now due to all the jumping around. Unfortunately for Henryk, his stature was his downfall in this instance. Over time, the paladin had gotten a feel for his center of gravity, and it was her next target. Their shoe-less brawl was quite different than what she assumed he was used to during his time in the military. The anatomy of the foot was built to be used in different ways in/outside of shoes. Aylera happened to prefer the freedom of mobility. Her balance felt stronger this way, utilizing a full range of motion.\n\nIn a flurry, the two were back at it, dancing at an ever-increasing pace. Aylera had begun to sweat, her grin fading into focus. As he went to strike her, she dove backward again, but this time extremely low to the ground. Rolling back, the elf pushed off her hands into a handstand, stepping down with her non-dominant leg to support her as she twisted her hips to land a kick with her dominant to Henryk's supporting leg. Twirling around again, she switched legs, using her foot to push Henryk over. It landed on the front of his shoulder, and the elf leaned in, using her body weight more than anything to guide him onto his back.\n\nBreathing heavily, she stepped back, a bright smile crossing over her lips again. Giving him a moment to collect himself, Aylera made her way over to Henryk slowly, resting her hands on her hips. \"Well, you can hold your own quite well I see. That was some good work\". She offered him a hand, braids jingling in a much more disheveled state. Once he was standing, the paladin closed her eyes, breathing deeply for a few seconds before looking up at the lights she had produced. Their gentle light continued to pour over the clearing, pulsing softness as they hung in the air. Her adrenaline calmed, leaving her feeling the weight of exhaustion in her muscles." }, { "author": "Doctor Henryk", "message": "Henryk was clumsy at first— or she was simply more agile than anticipated. The soldiers he had to wrestle with were more brutish in their methods, and often times it worked. When he threw his lead left, the jab, at Aylera, she slipped him seamlessly.\n\nShe tiptoed around him— she moved like a butterfly, with no weight whatsoever. Whatever he attempted she seemed to have a response. He threw a right cross, she would slip. If he threw a leg kick from his rear leg, she would simply sweep and pivot away. It was somewhat frustrating— where at first he was hesitant, now he was annoyed. He disliked this feeling. Where normally he had been accepting of the fact he was no grand warrior, his pride otherwise would bark at him. What sort of man was he to be if he couldn't protect his fiancée? He needed to be ready— accurate, precise. His stance adjusted to hit this mindset, now standing more bladed for improved verticality, to speed back and forth more easily. His left hand took lead, with his shoulder ready to block as he lunged forwards and threw his jab for her nose. She then responded with leaning her body back, before rolling into a summersault.\n\nHe showed a flash of frustration— no, _anger_ before quickly using his lead leg to push himself backwards to avoid her leg sweep. Sweat beads rolled off his forehead as he released a heavy breath. His mind lingering to the battlefield— remembering how he once wrestled an enemy soldier off one of his ally's. A sword firmly placed into the enemy's abdomen. He recalled all that death, the carnage, the horrors which he once experienced. How he had to wade through arrow fire and combatant's swords in order to grab wounded men and pull them to safety. War had laid itself deep in Henryk's mind— the hopelessness, the loss of life in large quantities, the trauma which comes with it... The way he fought now, before Aylera, foretold his story.\n\nHe would try to catch her, whatever he threw continued to miss because of this rigidness. Where she was lose, he was stiff. Being stiff made him sluggish, and due to this sluggishness he was easy to read. She dipped again, and his body would fall to the ground. He had laid onto his back, body thudding hard as he let out a quick gasp.\n\nHe remembered this feeling. When that stray arrow imbedded itself deep into his centre mass. His body falling and thudding against the ground. The way the earth had been used as a force to inflict further damage as his body laid limp. It was the injury which resulted in his honourable discharge— where he retired from the soldier life. He remembered how the wind was knocked out of his body— how hard it was to breathe. However with great fortune, she broke his fall.\n\nHe laid on the floor for a moment in silent contemplation. Why couldn't he hit her? He thought about how weightless she was— a butterfly. How she almost floated with grace. Then he thought about at the beginning. How she stretched, how she moved with this playfulness. She was fluid like water and moved like air. Her strength hadn't come from being rigid, and hitting as hard as she could. No, she used motion as a means to generate power.\n\nHis eyes widen. That's what he was missing. This wasn't a fight to the death, this was simply the art of play. He needed to place the war outside his mind and simply let his body move. He thought about her physics, the way she danced— he thought about how an arrow, typically weightless, had the capacity to kill when it soared through the air. Perhaps he needed to be the same way. To simply let himself be, and to be within _this_ moment, instead of linger upon moments long gone.\n\nHenryk sat up, before sweeping his hair back. \"I get it.\" He simply stated, before slowly rising to his feet. \"I understand why I couldn't touch you.\" He then added, before looking to his left hand, balling it into a fist. He took a deep sigh, before looking to Aylera.\n\n\"You're done already?\" He would say, before punching his fist into the palm of his right. \"I believe its time we expand our arsenal, no?\" He would suggest. \"I want to experience everything— I want to understand what it is I'm still missing in my _alignment._\"\n\nHenryk let his hands hang by his side. \"Alchemy. Magic. Prayers. Mind. Body. Soul. Lets use it all. I want... To have fun.\"" }, { "author": "Aylera Mialar", "message": "Slowly regaining her breath, Aylera's gaze returned to Henryk. She watched him think, though it must be at lightning speed. His realization came quickly, he really was a genius. Determination and a quick mind were a lethal combination, and clearly, the doctor was more than equipped to use both to his full advantage. A few stray braids had made their way out of her bigger updo, and she flicked them out of her face before pursing her lips. Oh? He was challenging her now, to use the full extent of their powers. Her eyebrow instinctively raised, especially since she had never seen alchemy used in action. A smile broke her expression, but her curiosity and his phrasing changed it to something more playful. With a dip of her head, she obliged.\n\n\"Well, I can't say no when you've got the determination of a boulder tumbling down a hill. Alright, Henryk. Let's play\". Her eyes moved over him, accessing the details in his eyes. Yes, those were the ones of someone on the brink of illumination. Aylera turned and moved her arms in large circles, backward and forward, her shoulders complaining about her roughness on them. \"We will continue with hand-to-hand, just using everything but weapons, yes?\" \n\nFacing away from him, she leaned back, stretching her back with her arms above her head. A hum escaped her, the audible manifestation of the tingle deep in her heart. Exhilaration. This training wasn't just for him, it seemed. It dawned on Aylera that she needed this as well. She needed to move her body, she needed to meditate, she needed to help someone else. The night sky above them seemed to agree with a resounding message from Alynthi in the adrenaline coursing through her veins. She felt lighter than before, despite having just tossed herself around.\n\nAlthough she could do most of her skills on both legs, she preferred her left- which was now upset with her. Aylera lowered herself into a lunge to target the angry muscle, which calmed relatively quickly. \"Do you need to prepare anything? I'm quite curious to see your alchemical skills at work so I can better understand them. Aside from what you've told me about it, I know next to nothing\". She let out a lighthearted laugh before sliding into the splits. The position was less of a test of flexibility, once she had spent hours every day for a few months sitting in a much more intense variation purely so she'd never have to work so hard for mobility again. Now it was a test of strength, keeping her muscles pulled tight so she had the strength and balance to stay upright with no assistance. There is no safety in flexibility otherwise.\n\nThe elf kept herself there as she observed Henryk more, only moving to repeat the process on the opposite leg and to lay down in the middle splits. It may have been unnecessary, but it wouldn't hurt. Plus, it allowed her closeness to the earth without looking entirely odd. In her worst mental moments, she had once taken to laying face down in the middle of the woods. As the doctor went about his preparations, her eyes followed him closely. Occasionally, she spoke quick prayers to her goddess, but otherwise left herself to be a fly on the wall. Aylera was as ready as she'd ever be." }, { "author": "Doctor Henryk", "message": "The Doctor flashed a grin. \"Of course. However, I will be putting in the effort to contest you.\" Henryk had then said— making it clear he didn't intend to pull his punches. The Doctor, who had built a sweat up at this point, grabbed the bottom edges of his tunic before taking it off, depositing near his personal effects. His upper body full exposed, as Aylera would be witness to the physique he had been building. She could see the muscle insertions of his back, his uneven abdominals and pronounced V-taper. His body was almost reminiscent to that of a sculpture— beautiful. His Concubus genetics blessed him, as Duuna's curse had been a bewitching one, born to seduce and consume onlookers, it was the Goddess of Love whom mended this curse.\n\nSweeping his raven hair back, he had laced his black leather gloves onto his hands, gold studs at his knuckles. From his Alchemist pack, he collected a syringe with gold trimmings, filled with a pale red fluid. The Alchemist would stand, before placing the needle to his arm. \"An experimental formula of mine... Recently, myself and my partner have been studying blood and its properties. We've learned a lot— See, they're a Hemomancer. Illegal here, but the practice is permitted in Lazaroth. I am blessed that they wish to use such macabre arts for good. We have learned certain blood types are compatible with one another, while other blood types are not. We've learned that there is a difference in magical inclination between different blood types— High Elves being one of the races with the highest potential for magical inclination.\" Henryk pushed the needle into his arm, poking one of his veins, before pushing the pale red solution into himself. Slowly, the needled emptied, before he would deposit the needle onto the ground.\n\nNow looking to Aylera, he would hold this smile. She would visibly see the injection point would seal shut, the flesh having women together. The veins around his eyes would grow more pronounced, his vascularity noticeably increasing. Finally, his irises would turn from rounded black orbs into cat-like slits in a rather sudden and almost dramatic fashion.\n\nHenryk would expand his arms out, before taking a deep breath, rocking his head back slowly. \"Yes... I _feel_ it. The way that the ambient magic in the air enters my pores.\" His head would then jerk forwards to eyeball Aylera. He would raise a hand up before balling it into a fist.\n\n\"I understand the composition of my blood. And thus, have learned to change it to match the quality of other races.\" Henryk finally revealed, before bringing his two hands together.\n\n\"Thank you for this. I am ready to begin.\" The Doctor spoke thusly. His hands would rise up, forming a triangle. His index finger of his right hand would slant downwards to form a line in the middle of the triangle. With this, he evoked the Alchemical symbol for air.\n\n`\"Investiture of Wind.\"`\n\nHis words carried power, as suddenly air billowed around him, snuffing out the fire which lit ablaze at their campfire— darkness enveloping the pair. Henryk, having previously evoked this spell in the form of a alchemical salve, had done it again but this time evoking it through casting. The Alchemist made a wide smile, audibly chuckling. \"It worked! What is Sorcery but Alchemy internalized?!\" He would exclaim, before taking a bladed stance, hopping in place. \"How exhilarating!\" \n\n\"Lets enjoy the moment, Aylera!\" He would say with the widest of grins, inviting her to make the first move." }, { "author": "Aylera Mialar", "message": "The paladin stood, eyes wide as the doctor effectively stabbed himself with magical essence. She trusted the doctor's wisdom, but his transformation was startling, to say the least. It seemed... Unnatural, yet also following apparently every law of nature. If he had broken them, well, she wondered after the byproducts of their experiments. Aylera's hair went flying in the wind, causing her to brace herself. Knees bent, ears ringing from the gust, the elf watched Henryk's demeanor shift. This breed of magic was new to her- aside from its obvious innovative strategy. His energy had shifted, and his eyes particularly unsettled her. Well, at least they wouldn't have to worry about visibility in the dark.\n\nAylera's vision adjusted as she readied herself. A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips, but her expression was focused now. Her shirt rippled in the air, and she swiftly tied it down. Midriff now exposed, her abdominal muscles were on display. They carved through her, a display of her agility and stability, all of her acrobatic power centered on its strength. Her breath too, was more pronounced. The elf didn't breathe into her chest, but into her stomach, its rise and fall tightly controlled. Despite being offered the first move, it was clear she was on the defensive now. She crouched low, resting on the ball of her right foot, left extended straight. One hand pressed into the earth, one behind her palm facing up to the sky as if reaching for her goddess in all aspects of her domain. Through the thundering wind, Aylera's voice rang out as she spoke to the Mother in elvish.\n\n\"O' great Mother, allow me to weave, allow me your protection! Grace me with your *Circle of power\".\n\nThe slither of words off her tongue brought forth a shimmer in the air surrounding her, invoking a tingle as the magical wind swirled around them. Her bubble was small, just surrounding her body with enough room to compensate for her range of motion, but her concentration was tight. The spell required focus, an intention at the very least. Her balance relied not on physical strength but on the addition of mental and spiritual fortitude. With a deep inhale, her eyes met Henryk's figure, surveying her options.\n\nIn a moment, the decision was made. She lunged for him, seemingly head-on, but quickly twisted to attempt to approach from his left side. Aylera may be light on her feet, but the wind opposed her, requiring a deeper lean into her movement. Her eyes were forced to narrow in its wake, but her vision remained unobscured. What was he capable of in this form? It seemed she'd find out sooner rather than later." }, { "author": "Doctor Henryk", "message": "Unnatural, but followed the rules of nature. That was the perfect way to describe Henryk's alchemy. The way he bent its laws to form exceptions in the rules. The way he was willing to twist and contort his being in order to fulfill a certain need or desire. This was the mad genius of Doctor Henryk at display. His heart began to pump, as he gave this toothy grin as she evoked her _Circle of Power._ He could feel the way her divine radiance shedded off from her form, how the winds in which he commanded seemed to lose power around her— Henryk could recognize the magic school being used. Abjuration Magic.\n\nHe analyzed, watching how her magic wrapped around her and her immediate area in a bubble. A demi-sphere. A _circle._ The circle was a shape he was familiar with when conducting ritual circles. It protected, it looped feedback, and it contained— it this shape had no angles; it possessed no rigidness. It was smooth, _perfect._\n\nMagic circles possessed four core parts. A Source, a Shape, a Target, and a Sink. Both traditional and modern interpretations of ritual circles possessed these qualities— he used them all the time in the arts of Alchemy. The Source, Aylera herself. It had been the prayer she evoked from her essence which formed this circle. The Shape, _a circle._ For the previous reasons discussed, Henryk had figured its properties were meant to contain the spell within a certain radius— contained within its shape. If the spell broke its shape, it would become weaker as it thinned. Like a broken cup spilling water. The target was the space within the circle— the area filled inside of it this divine energy the Source, Aylera, released in order to empower herself and diminish his own magic. Finally the _Sink._ A sink was used to reduce and deflect magic backlash. Again, the Shape which she evoked worked for this. It not only contained magical overspill, it also deflected it— Abjuration magics were known for absorbing and deflecting magic after all.\n\nFor all these reasons, this is why the _Circle_ was the perfect casting shape. Henryk couldn't help but admire the display of her magic— his grin widening more, devilishly so.\n\nWhere typically he was a passive individual, he couldn't help but want to stretch his legs and act. As she moved, he entered her radius as the wind began to lessen— the nature of the wind however wasn't caused by evocation magic. No, this was _transmutation_ magic, and he had summoned this wind from nature itself instead of evoking it. For this, so long as he held concentration upon this _investiture,_ his hold wouldn't wane as exponentially as anticipated.\n\nShe came for his left side. Having been in this bladed stance of his, he back foot, his right one, would push off the ground as his body would twist into a kick. The way his leg snapped up at her was fast— faster than before, giving the Paladin mere moments to spare as he came for her side. The Doctor reduced the wind resistance around him limb allowed him to move with such incredible agility. He could have increased the pressure around his leg for a stronger, harder blow, but he wanted to entertain a battle of dexterity.\n\n`Let the dance begin.`" }, { "author": "Aylera Mialar", "message": "The tempo had picked up. Henryk moved faster than she'd anticipated. It made sense if she had thought about it more, but now wasn't the time for thought. Aylera's mind was consumed by her prayer. Her heartbeat quickened in return, organic adrenaline spiking through her as she barely dodged in time. Her chest dropped as if gravity had turned off, ducking underneath the leg that seemed to fly at speeds greater than the birds of prey that soared above grasslands. Henryk's leg caught her hair, whistling just above the edge of her ear, threatening to take the braids with him. That was close. Too close. His abilities seemed impossible, but he obeyed every natural law she had ingrained into her. Up close, his muscles seemed to visibly pulse due to their pronounced veins, as if each had their own heart. It looked wrong- as if they were under enough tension that they'd snap at her at any moment. She'd be willing to argue that they would, given the chance. How does one take this down?\n\nNow, as she had just narrowly escaped his kick, she pivoted again in an attempt to subdue his leg with hers. Her magical resistance to the wind assisted her, but he was so quick now that her precision felt duller. The elf grit her teeth as the pressure between their spells grew, as if the elements surrounding them were unsure which way to bend. Keeping her chest low, her supporting leg bent, monopolizing every ounce of contact it had with the ground.\n\nTwisting her torso, Aylera attempted something that appeared risky. She intended to catch Henryk's knee, utilizing her hips' wide range of motion. Her left knee came up from behind as it attempted to hook onto his. It was a test. A test of his speeds, of hers, of the strength dynamic between them. As much as she was agile, she wouldn't win on strength alone. She needed momentum. The hook wasn't meant to injure, no. It was meant to manipulate.\n\nAs she reached with her lower body, she pulled in her arms. Physics was anyone's game now, as much as she knew what she was doing, his body clearly weighed more than hers, and she had no idea how else he could possibly manipulate the space between them. In the worst-case scenario- that she could think of in a matter of breaths, her leg would fall and she'd dive out of the way. Who knows what fate had in store, but for now, she was eternally grateful to be barefoot. Her ankles felt much more stable when they were free to adjust on tiny levels. Shoes just stifled her ability to flex her tendons, and she needed them to function properly now more than ever.\n\nThis dance was a quickstep. Each moving to the beat of their pumped-up hearts, following the tune of wind whirling around them. Their moves were fast as a frenzy, yet calculated and as precise as brainpower would allow. The syncopation of each intention seemed to ring amidst the trees, and Aylera could no longer hear the normal nighttime songs made of crickets and foliage. Now, all she heard were the drums of her heart pounding for her to focus." }, { "author": "Doctor Henryk", "message": "She ducked low.\n\nHenryk's body would travel through with the kick as it soared over her head, his body travelling through with the pivot before finally grounding himself, back facing her as his gaze looked over his shoulder. He was in a compromised position, as she had approached in order to hook their legs. Henryk, being a fledgling in the martial arts compared to the Paladin, wouldn't be able to react in time before being hooked knee to knee.\n\nHenryk's mind reacted fast— he remembered earlier when she had tripped him and he made ground fall. He recalled the sensation of the wind getting knocked from his lungs, and how it'd leave him open for a coup de grâce if he hadn't been careful. _However,_ perhaps falling is what he needed to do right about now.\n\nAs she used her leg to manipulate his own leg, the balance he had breaking, he would instead allow himself to fall backwards to slip out of her leg hook— a similar fashion to what she had anticipated on doing herself if she were to be overpowered. Utilizing the experience of Aylera breaking his fall for him earlier; when his back was about to make contact with the soot, the wind which he commanded broke his fall, cushioning him from landing on the earth too hard, followed with his body rolling backwards to get him into a crouched position. He looked up at her, before letting out a laugh— he was having fun! It was truly an enlightening experience to conceptualize one's strength!\n\nHe finally felt it— the fever of combat. He wasn't possessed by hauntings from the past. He was no longer weak. He had built his own strength through his trials, and now finally got to experience the fruits of his labour. This was more than he could ever expect— how far his Alchemy— no, more than just Alchemy... How far _he_ has come.\n\nLowering a hand to his side, he would swing upwards, raising his body to a stand at the same time, with his hand bladed as though he was cutting at the air. The wind which traveled behind his hand would warp, and form a crescent of air as he'd launch it at Aylera— this spell he used hadn't been that of _Rend_ or _Biological Rend_, instead pressurized air which had been launched at the Paladin like a blunt force coming to slam into her.\n\nThe swing was telegraphed— there was an evident charge up also, as it was clear it was perhaps the first time he had ever devised such a technique. One that needed much refinement. She would have ample amount of time to react, however the ferocity which the wind carried itself was akin to a tempest.\n\nThe Doctor was learning..." }, { "author": "Aylera Mialar", "message": "Aylera could see Henryk's mind working through his eyes. She may have only caught a glimmer of it as he fell, but it was apparent to her. The eyes were the gateway to the mind, and in the heat of battle, it was difficult to conceal one's thoughts when observed up close. His piercing blue eyes seemed clearer, glimmering with all sorts of exhilaration. Henryk's laugh gave it away as well. He was no longer burdened by his mind, and the elf was more than aware of how much weight a heavy heart had.\n\nBouncing back as the man swung, she heard the air pick up speed, twisting into a column before forming that crescent shape. The feeling of air around her twisted in this maladapted form, and her bubble shimmered more and more, the magic of whatever had been launched at her strong and threatening to take her down. Aylera had time- but not much of it. Her mind whirled, dozens of options arising and disregarded in milliseconds. She lunged as if rooting herself to the ground as she made a choice. She needed more time- but the wind rose, biding an action.\n\nAylera wasn't strong enough to dispel the wind, nor did she think she could effectively counter it. The singing it made indicated it was much too strong for her own wind-based spell. Her choice was made, she'd try to avoid it. Her shimmering bubble disintegrated, leaving her prone as she spoke loudly, falling to her knee with her hand on her chest as the wind threatened to blow her away .* \"Alynthi, let me *Move\", Freedom of movement was what she needed. Now, she needed to move fast.\n\nCan't go through it, can't go around it, her options were to either go over or under it. Not ideal. In this case, it seemed best to try to go over it. With a deep breath, she cleared her mind, a smooth breath ripping through her before she tore into a run. She was going to try a new technique as well. With a flick of her wrist, combined with an inaudible prayer, a barely visible platform sprang to life about four feet in the air just ahead and to the right of her. It shimmered in its magical nature and looked rather... Unstable. Nevertheless, the paladin threw herself into a front flip, landing on the platform for a sliver of a second before it vanished, disintegrating under the pressure of her force and the wind. Freedom of movement allowed her velocity to continue forward at least, and she pushed off the feeble thing just as she landed on it, another springing up another few feet above the mass of wind heading straight for her. This one didn't hold for quite as long. As her feet landed on it, it dissolved. With a yelp, Aylera twisted in the air, plummeting to the ground from a grand total of seven feet above. Instinct took over her and she managed to get her feet underneath her body. Her commotion garnered her a weak shield, a primal reaction to the circumstance, though it did little to break the fall.\n\nAs she hit the ground, her joints screamed, the heels of her feet carving into the soft earth beneath her as she kicked herself into a roll. Roll she did, flipping over herself with excess momentum which ended with her lying face-down in the grass. It took her a moment to regain her sense of self. The elf's ears rang, heart thundering. In the heat of the absolute surge of adrenaline, she managed to push herself onto her hands and knees, coughing as all of the air had been knocked out of her lungs. She may not have broken anything to her immediate knowledge, but her joints ached through all the endorphins and an old injury in her right ankle made its presence known once more.\n\nA hoarse laugh escaped her lips once she finished getting breath back into her lungs. Her body felt as if it vibrated. Gods, what a show." }, { "author": "Doctor Henryk", "message": "The Doctor watched as he'd see her drop the Circle of Power in exchange for mobility. He analyzed how the... Lets call it the \"Air Rend\", was avoided by Aylera. By having jumped up, utilizing a barrier as a means of a platform, to then jump even further over the Air Rend, avoiding it all together, was a creative use of Abjuration magic he would've never conceived of.\n\nBrilliant. Just _brilliant._ Doctor Henryk recognized the Paladin's attempts at experimentation and development of her technique. This was as much of a learning experience for him as it was for her. He intentionally gave Aylera a moment to recover— this wasn't a _true_ fight after all, where her moment of respite would be utilized as a moment of exploitation. No, for the sake of longevity, he allowed her to stand up.\n\nHowever he didn't idle. He recognized that such a large, dramatic attack would leave him open for counterattack, as well gave away his intentions. He would need to downsize and become precise... _Like an arrow._ The Doctor's mind thought back to earlier today— how the arrow broke wind to maximize speed and power. He would think back to the wind, by focusing wind, one could generate more force via pressure. _Pressure_ was a weapon all of its own, which the Doctor would attempt to improvise with.\n\nAs the Paladin now had risen, he took it as a sign she was ready to continue. Henryk would raise a hand, curling his index, and pressing it to his thumb— as though a locking mechanism, loading his shot while his index was the chamber. Extending his arm and wrist out. Concentrating on his index finger, the wind which danced around him had been focused onto this one point, before finally Henryk had released and extended his index, flicking it.\n\nThe air \"Arrow\", almost invisible to the naked eye, save for the fact that one could see the air morph around its motion, would soar and threaten to strike Aylera upon centre mass. This concentrated pressure, if its mark was true, would leave a serious bruise— as though an arrow with a blunt tip was striking the Paladin just mere moments after she managed to stand again.\n\nDoctor Henryk found a means to play at a distance more effectively now— the way he adapted, and overcame obstacles was developing live as they fought. Henryk knew he was at his weakest when they were close, and thus would only engage in hand-to-hand if he was pinned and forced into that situation. He had his strategy now— and he saw his \"Win condition.\" He needed to wear her down until he could land his decisive blow. Her \"Win condition\", in Henryk's mind, would be to catch him and stop him before it was too late.\n\nThe Chess pieces were all falling into place..." }, { "author": "Aylera Mialar", "message": "Aylera was exhausted. It felt as if the magic conducted through her veins had run dry- but perhaps that was the fact that she barely had time to breathe. Her vision swam as she stood, her right ankle threatening to give way. The elf looked to Henryk just as he... Shot something at her? She could barely register her surroundings as she felt the now familiar gust move in her direction. Whatever it was, it was way too fast for her. There was no dodging it, she simply didn't have the energy. The act of standing alone was depleting her already empty energy, her usual bouncy responses were no longer feasible.\n\nInstead, Aylera feebly muttered only the name of her mother goddess,* \"*Alynthi\". Her words were barely audible, just a whisper amidst the screaming wind that soared at her. In her remaining seconds before impact, she managed to stagger a solid few centimeters to the side- a rather pitiful attempt. A weak little shield surrounded her but it was nothing in the face of whatever this was. Sucking in her breath, she prepared for impact. The elf was struck on her right side, her lower ribs taking the brunt of the force, which to her thanks saved her from more insufferable moments without air in her lungs.\n\nHer exposed skin screamed, the pressurized air felt as if it... Burned? It was difficult to describe the sensation, but she was knocked onto her back again, where she lay, nearly motionless save for the rise and fall of her chest as she let the pain wash over her. She was done. There was no continuing after that, even if she weren't seriously injured- plus, that wasn't the point anyway. In her silent state, she commended Henryk for his talents, and how he had made so much progress in only a day of practice. Aylera smiled to herself, up to the stars, at Alynthi. She gave wordless thanks to the Mother, she was right, Alynthi* *Had* Smiled upon Henryk. It was a pleasant sight, observing her diety welcome someone so... Foreign.\n\nAylera lay there for a long time, regaining some strength before sitting up and surveying her condition. She was utterly exhausted, every muscle in her refusing to cooperate nicely. Her ribs were bruised, but through some uncomfortable feeling, she found nothing to be broken or damaged. Her right ankle was mildly swollen, but that was no surprise- she always joked it had the temperament of a particularly temperamental child. More bruises seemed to pop up here and there, but it seemed everything else was in order.\n\nLooking back at the man, her vision readjusted itself. He was truly finding his alignment. Aylera was no mind-reader nor expert on the mind, but she knew he was figuring it out, she knew he'd only grow from here." }, { "author": "Doctor Henryk", "message": "Letting out a lengthy exhale, Henryk would look upon Aylera as she actively struggled to stand on her feet. He felt conflicted... How was it that he was struggling before, and now, it was she who had been struggling against him? Did the gap between them shrink that quickly due to magic?\n\nHenryk would laps his hands together, forming that same hand sign he had done before to evoke Investiture of Wind, relinquishing his control over the spell as the harsh winds would dispel, allowing the air to become gentle once again.\n\nThe Doctor approached Aylera, his guard had been lowered now as he had looked upon his friend with a slight frown— he didn't think he could deal so much damage, or, rather, he thought she could handle it. That she was... Stronger? The Doctor wasn't exactly sure how he should interpret the situation, but, regardless, he would undo what he had done to Aylera now that it was all said and done. \n\n\"Don't move.\" He spoke as she laid down. He stood over her before making hand signs. He evoked the alchemical symbol for water, an upside down triangle. Next he evoked Earth, crossing a finger through his inverted triangle. Slowly, he then signed Gold, a circle, then finally Phosphorus, signing an invisible cross. With these elements evoked, he would speak thusly, `\"Heal.\"` A pale pink hue would surround Aylera, as her tissue would wove and mend, her body healing rapidly as the Doctor watched with an inquisitive eye.\n\nHe's made healing salves so often, he knew there effects, and used them on himself for testing purposes time and time again— he knew how the salve worked when introduced to a body, and how it was produced. With this insight, is able to internalize his Alchemy and cast like that of a Sorcerer.\n\nHaving mended Aylera's wounds, he would offer her a hand. \"I think we're done for this evening.\" The Doctor would tell the Paladin. It was odd, how it was he who declared their tussle over and not her. Was he simply unable to conceptualize his own strength?\n\nHe would think on it for a moment, before simply smiling to Aylera. \"You've made me realize the depth of my abilities, Aylera.\" He would tell her. \"Without your assistance, I do not imagine I'd have gotten where I am now.\"" }, { "author": "Aylera Mialar", "message": "The paladin returned Henryk's smile. She allowed him to help her up, her body calmed by the medicinal magic he produced. She was decently well-versed in that sort, but his abilities still caught her by surprise. Night had thoroughly swallowed the world around them, and her exhaustion still plagued her despite the physical healing he had graciously provided. Once on her feet, Aylera took a moment to make her hair slightly less messy, though there was no hope of progress on that front until she could properly wash and detangle it again. As he spoke, she dipped her head respectfully and offered him a gentle pat on the back. Her smile was soft, akin to that of an impressed older sibling.\n\n\"Mmm, I'm sure you have all that and more inside of you Henryk. Your words are kind- and I take them humbly, but know that you were capable of this from the start. So often it is a blockage of doubt or apprehension that inhibits our growth. Thank you for trusting me, your gifts are really quite incredible.\"\n\nOn that note, the two fell into their hammocks. Aylera was more than ready for a rest. The plan for the next few days was simple. She'd take them to a local waterfall to wash in the pools surrounding it, and then they'd attempt hunting again, followed by another sparring session. Thank Alynthi for her blessings upon the two. Her faith called for a prayer before her rest. After only a minute or two of contemplation directed up at the stars, she fell into a dreamless sleep.\n\nThe following morning blanketed the clearing in sunlight again, the warmth and light of day rousing Aylera from her slumber. She rose just as the sunrise filtered above the treeline. To begin her day, she sat cross-legged near the ruins of the previous night's fire. There, she combed through her hair, leaving it loose and wavy, a mass of glittering silver and metal adornments from it littering the grass beside her. During the sort of meditative state, she always seemed to fall into while doing anything to her hair, a thought had come to her. She wasn't sure how well it would work, but it was worth trying. Once Henryk was ready, she rose to begin today's journey, gathering the shimmering objects before the two would venture over to a location nearby.\n\n\"I know of a lovely place to wash and reflect, it's not far. We can gather some items for our meals today as well.\" She gestured in the opposite direction they had ventured in the previous day. \"I have an idea for you to try there. I wonder if you could try to use the waterfall there to better connect with this newfound magic you're using. The water is cool, and rushing, soothing to the body, as you'd know. It is a meditative practice I used to do myself, to better connect the mind and soul.\"\n\nHer eyes flickered over the man. Adjusting to the feeling of magic coursing through one's veins was often quick in the initial experience, but a true connection to it, when not an innate feeling in one's body was a far steeper learning curve. That being said, she was the least concerned over Henryk's ability to learn. From personal experience, though, it was much more personal than just a connection during combat. For her, it offered a connection to Alynthi, the precious source of her abilities and soothing to her ever so often plagued mind. The practice had aided the processing that came with her declaration of oath. Even if it didn't resonate with him, the only foreseeable consequence was cleanliness." }, { "author": "Doctor Henryk", "message": "After their bout, and sleeping in their hammocks, Henryk would have a hard time falling asleep immediately. He laid in the hammock, rocking back and forth, as he looked to the sky, watching the leaves rustle. The stars painted the world above him, as he was coming down from the high of battle— the Mutation salve wearing off as his eyes grew softer, and much less tense. His ability of night vision waning as the beast within faded away. When the salve wore off, he would have a crash— suddenly falling asleep with ease.\n\nHe would dream of home— Of Vierna. He would dream of himself and his wife, with a child running about. He could see their paler purple complexion, paired with his and Vierna's irradiant blue eyes. It'd be a girl— he had mentally conditioned himself to hope that they'd have a daughter, knowing that she'd live an easier life in Lazaroth. However, even if it were to be a boy, it would mean he'd have more time to teach the lad his skills as a Doctor, as there'd be no courtly expectations of him. Regardless— he yearned for a family. He could see Vierna with their beautiful child, sitting on the couch at her private quarters, reading stories to them while Henryk himself would be present. Something simple. Something close.\n\nThat's all he wants. A life where he could improve his skills, so that he could best serve his family as a man.\n\nThe sun rose, and he woke up. It was rare for him to have a _good_ dream. Whenever he did dream, it usually was that of war or of demons. But today, he had a skip in his step as he got out the hammock. His beautiful blue eyes would be kissed by the rays of the sun. The wintery wonderland held in his gaze illuminated by Solaris's grace. Aylera was waiting, and it was time to continue this retreat of theirs.\n\n\"Excellent . I still feel the sweat and grime on my body.\" He would comment in regards to bathing. He would begin to follow along, lagging slightly behind. He brought spare clothes which he would switch into after a good soak. \n\n\"Ah?\" He rose a brow to the prospect of using the water fall for magic. \"Unfortunately, my magic is quiet minimal without the use of those salves I made.\" He'd admit. \"My magical inclination by itself is negligible. If you give me a moment, I can bring a salve with me. I'll have one more leftover after that.\" He then paused, before letting out a huff. \"Lest you want me to try _without_ the salve.\" He would then rationalize. \"I see where you're getting at. Okay. I won't use my Alchemy.\"\n\nHe now followed with her, mentally preparing what was to come next." }, { "author": "Aylera Mialar", "message": "The warmth of sunlight dappled Aylera's cheeks as she led them to the little falls. She stayed shoeless, the light pitter-patter of footsteps along the forest floor filled with nostalgia. It was a quick walk, a maximum of 15 minutes as she calmed her speed to accommodate Henryk's lack of experience traversing the woods and the morning sluggishness still plagued her muscles. Her hair, now freed, billowed out behind her in a thick curtain of waves, a slight shine in its texture capturing the light filtering from above, bringing forth the warmth in its chestnut hue. They followed another overgrown deer path, tip-toeing over brambles and nettles that had overstepped their bounds. Further into the spring, these paths would be better carved as the young ventured from their parents. Aylera always saw the creatures as an inspiration, leaving delicate marks on the land they inhabited without imprinting too much of a mess- so long as the wolves ate their fill of them. The delicate balance of life amid Alynthi's creations cultivated the wood elf's dedication to the goddess, allowing insight into the beauty of nature's complexities.\n\nThe burble of water could be heard in the stillness of morning from a few minutes' walk away, growing ever stronger as the two approached the location. A waterfall spanning only about nine feet high poured into a shallow pool, which radiated outward into a small lake that fed into a wide creek. At only about five feet at its deepest, the pool was filled with crystal clear water that was cool to the touch. It wasn't cold, but its movement fended off the sun's heat well enough to keep it refreshing under the heat descending from the parted clouds above. The pool poured out into the creek slowly, moving just enough to carry away small objects if allowed.\n\n\"Ah, here we are, Henryk! Still as exquisite as I remember, how lovely\".\n\nThe elven woman eagerly stepped into the edge of the pool, the water gently lapping at her ankles. She let out a sigh of contentment, stretching her shoulders above her head as she turned back to face Henryk. \"Now, it is helpful to have a goal when going into a meditation. It needs not to be anything complicated, nor should it be, but having an idea of what one wants to ponder helps to aid the mind in its direction\". Her explanation ceased there, allowing the man to consider what was said. Aylera returned back toward the tree line, a basket she had made and taken with resting in the crook of her elbow. \"I will let you take your time. During that, I'll be around seeing what is ripe for our meals,\" Her lips curved into a gentle smile of encouragement. She wouldn't go far, and the forest was quiet enough that if one were to scream, she'd certainly hear it. That being said, there was almost certainly no trouble lurking around, and Henryk was more than capable of taking care of it. Still, it was better to be safe than sorry.\n\n\"Perhaps your experience was different, but the act of being the conduit of magic is certainly something unique. I hope you can take some time to become better acquainted with it and to really learn from the recollection of not only how it serves, but Feels To wield\". A small hum escaped her as she twirled herself around in preparation to leave him to his mind's devices. Before she departed, she leaned against the knotted trunk of a nearby willow. Her hazel eyes, freckled with a green hue that matched their surroundings, washed over him with the gentleness of empathy. \"Do not let whatever is in your head frighten you, the Mother knows just how afraid I was at first. Remember, alignment is akin to comradery among the various parts of you\"." }, { "author": "Doctor Henryk", "message": "Lagging along slightly, when finally coming into the view of the waterfall, he would watch as the water crashed constantly— meeting the bottom and carrying the water down the stream. His feet instinctually moved towards the shoreline, before hastily rolling his pants up calf high; he followed Aylera's footsteps and entered the water as well. Ah! It was rather chilly— he was use to hot baths back at the estate, it's been awhile since he took one cold.\n\n\"So, you wish for me just to stay here and meditate?\" He would confirm with her, looking over to her with this inquisitive gaze. He was more use to meditating in a quieter place, typically in his laboratory back home where he was largely undisturbed. He practiced meditation as a part of his Internal Alchemy, so meditating outside in nature was going to be different. The way the water crashed, initially to his mind, was going to be bothersome. The way the trees rustled and the distant birds chirped were going to provide distraction from him clearing his mind. Then, after brief contemplation, realized if he can't find peace of mind even amongst all the distractions, how was he supposed to find alignment with the rest of his being?\n\n\"...I'll attempt to do so, Aylera.\" He would finally respond with a slight uncertainty in his voice, before she inevitably departed to go find food for later. Hopefully something he can cook with again— he was pretty good at that. Henryk let out a slight sigh, before looking back to the stream, watching the water crash and flow. When he used his salve the night prior, he could feel the magic. People who were more naturally inclined to magic wouldn't understand what he felt— it was like his pores opened up to let magic rush into him. There was a certain 'high' to it, where a person like Aylera who could feel magic all the time would be, in a words, desensitized to it flowing, Henryk who had been less naturally inclined would gain this sense of euphoria whenever he transfigured his body to sustain this flow of ambient magic.\n\nSlowly, he game to his knees. His calves and feet covered by the streaming water as he would let out a hefty sigh yet again— emptying himself of these feelings which stirred within him. The Alchemist shut those blue eyes of his and felt the way the water streamed by him. His mind would think of his alchemical concoctions; the process of distilling elements of their impurities, drawing them, and mixing them to create his medication. The way the water crashed so violently, but then came to a gentle flow in a way represented the nature of magic, how it can be so volatile, so destructive, but also gentle and tender.\n\nInstinctively, he reached his hand for the water, letting it pool into his palm before lifting it up. His eyes opened slowly, as he looked into his hand to examine the water. Clear to the naked eye, he would instead ponder its impurities; what minerals must've swirled within the river water. He pondered the question: how _did_ it feel to be magic conduit? He has experienced it time and time again, and he supposed it was like water flowing, or drawing air. From his study of magic thus far, he understood that magic possessed three base components. Material, Somatic, and Verbal components. Each was a part of a larger equation— there was a particular calculus to magic not everyone understood, especially traditionalists like Aylera. She, from what he knew of her, believed in a more 'natural' understanding of the arcane— how it drew from nature. If he were a lesser man, he would scoff at her ways, but he was here because he desired a different perspective.\n\nHe always sought to learn different interpretations of things. He and his Dryad friend, Midelia, had much discussion in regards to traditional and modern medicine, which has helped improve his own practice. The same can be applied to casting— why couldn't both traditional and modern interpretations be correct? Isn't calculus, arithmetic, all grounded in nature? Neither interpretation is false, and to understand them in both ways surely would elevate oneself within the magic weave.\n\nHolding this water in his hand, he slowly lapsed his opposite hand over it. He thought of the three components which he needed to cast— he had the material in the form of water, he possessed the somatic knowledge to conduct the water, all he needed was to incant the word. His Concubus tongue carried magic, he knew this, as his accursed blood possessed a tongue which could augment those around them. He would only ponder if his tongue could impose authority over matter. With the equation in mind, and the interpretation of feeling water flow through him, he made his attempt— clinging onto that feeling he felt when flying with Atticus Xelnore, or clashing with Aylera just the night before.\n\nHe took a long draw of his breath. His fiendish tongue would incant the following... `\"Shape Water.\"` ...His hand which lapsed the other moved off, as water would trail with his open palm. It flowed, levitating between his hands. There was no smile however, simply a furrowed brow as he maintained concentration. It was a simple working, but, it made him realize how amazing it was for more seasoned casters, such as Atticus, to do the exact same thing by reflex alone. He needed to keep practicing as well, if he desired this degree of muscle memory.\n\nAfter awhile, Aylera would inevitably return to Henryk still knelt in the water. However, she would view him shaping a handful of water into a circle, having it flow into itself, streaming in a circular motion whilst levitated in between his palms. He was quiet, focused— the noises of the surrounding nature far pushed away from his mind as he found meditation through manipulation of the elements. His busy mind found something to keep itself working." }, { "author": "Aylera Mialar", "message": "Flitting about the woods, Aylera tip-toed her way through the underbrush in wandering pursuit of sustenance. Sunlight filtered in from the canopy, contrasting the shadows beneath the towering crown above. A mass of dark waves followed the elf as her shadow, their looseness providing the woman a newfound sense as she moved easily amongst the forest. Typically tied back in varying styles, the springtime breeze moving through the freed strands refreshed her. The woods were quiet today, save for the chirping of birds and rustle of leaves. She stayed near the water, both for safety- not that they needed it, as well as the wealth of edible options that the banks of the creek provided. Along it, a multitude of delectable options made themselves available.\n\nAylera managed to fill her basket nearly to the brim by the time she began to return in Henryk's direction. Wild garlic, nettles, violets, dandelions, and wild asparagus made up a decent-sized portion of her haul. Along with those, she'd managed to scrounge up some fiddlehead ferns (to her particular delight) as well as an assortment of mushrooms, some clearly edible and well-known, others... Less so. Satisfied with her collection, she skimmed the edge of the gentle creek with her fingertips, allowing it to carry away bits of dirt that had wedged themselves under her nails. The water had slowed to a calm burble as she had put a decent chunk of distance between herself and the falls. Naturally, finding her way back was of no concern.\n\nPractically skipping her way back to Henryk, Aylera surveyed her surroundings as a pang of nostalgia hit her dead in her heart. She paused at the sight of a bush of purple flowers, buzzing with the hum of various species of insects that fed on its nectar. The sight was one that brought with the crashing tide of memories long lost. She'd spent quite the amount of time studying the interactions of nature. It had been a late spring day of sun, filled with laughter and playful fun.\n\nA familiar voice echoed through her mind- that of a younger Varis, her only family in the House. An ache shot through her stomach and the elf turned away, feeling almost dazed from the onslaught of deja-vu. Varis was gone, lost to the poison at the bottom of the bottle, consumed by his socialite status- albeit rather ironic. Biting her lower lip, the Paladin moved on.\n\nThe rest of the walk back was spent avioding more returning memories, fending off the heartache they caused. Aylera refused to wallow in the past, not while she was aiding Henryk. This wasn't about her, it was her duty to help the man, the oath she had taken called for it. Especially now that Henryk had shown interest in applying her cultural practices into his training, her faith called her to action. As she approached the falls, her pace slowed. The edges of her full lips curved upwards as the Doctor came into view. His stoic, focused expression mimicked his outward persona quite perfectly. It took her pressing her tongue to the roof of her mouth to stop her from giggling. Knowing the man's hard, ambitious exterior was filled with a child-like playfulness, the contrasts of the half-human amused her.\n\nCareful not to disturb him, Aylera gently set her basket down, sitting cross-legged on a patch of soft grass. Producing a comb from a pocket, she began unraveling a few knots that had managed to form in her quick expedition. During this, she observed Henryk with a relaxed gaze, and her smile never wavered. He was casting without the use of alchemy. Though she may not understand the extent of the man's abilities, she had watched him discover himself firsthand. From it, it was obvious that his potential was limitless, likely beyond Aylera's imagination. Allowing him the grace of silence, the elf extended her legs toward the water. Coolness lapping at her ankles, up to the base of her calves, she rested her hands behind her, soaking in the sunlight from a gap in in the overarching tree cover." }, { "author": "Doctor Henryk", "message": "Henryk's eyes would shift to the sound of Aylera placing her basket down— the brief sounds of her seating. He was so focused, that even the subtleness of Aylera making her presence known caused for that fickle concentration to break. That sensation of knowing one was no longer alone. The water which he controlled would collapse and fall back into the streaming water, whisking away in its torrent. Henryk hadn't made any audible sounds, besides a deep breath, and a lengthy exhale. He would come to his feet as he turned over to Aylera, walking on over to her. \n\n\"Welcome back.\" He would greet her, before taking a seat onto the ground. He had sat cross legged as well, before placing a hand on the basket's handle, pulling it closer. \"May I?\" Before observing its contents. Garlic, nettle, violets, dandelions, asparagus— he couldn't cook with all this, but he could use the garlic as an aromatic and the asparagus as a green to consume. However, while he was holding the basket, his eyes narrowed.\n\n\"...Ah.\" His eyes would slowly widen. \"A basket!\" He would stand up, placing the basket down before looking at his hands. He would bring them together, interlocking his fingers, folding them into one another— the same way which the wicker basket's plant fibres folded into itself. \"Aylera!\" His eyes quickly shifted to the Paladin. \"Indulge me. I need you to strike me.\" He would say in the most sincere way possible— he meant it. He wanted her to punch him. \n\n\"I have an idea.\" He was quick to add, holding this hand sign. \"I just need someone to test with.\" Henryk added.\n\nThe wicker basket... It made so much sense! It was spherical in shape, and its folds is what made it strong— secure. He could see its shape, its formations. He visualized what he wished to achieve, although a man who he perceived to have lesser inclination, he could see himself performing this incantation.\n\nThe Doctor took a few paces away. Simply holding out his interlocked hands— the somatic component for what he was about to do. \"I'm ready.\"" }, { "author": "Aylera Mialar", "message": "Admiring the man's meditative work, the wood-elven woman offered Henryk a smile, sitting up as he approached. Not only had it been fruitful, but his behavior matched that of the practice- which was no easy feat for someone having been apprehensive about it. In any other case, Aylera would have assumed the man to be quite the skeptic of the benefits of meditation- but clearly, he'd long since disproved that. The melding of science and tradition seemed to encompass their work together. Appreciating his dedication, she greeted him in kind, her voice soft and playful. \"Looks like you've kept yourself quite busy\", She chirped, giving a welcoming gesture to the basket as he asked about it. Hazel eyes watched him closely, observing how his mind worked was an experience in and of itself. At the sudden request, she couldn't help but seem surprised. \n\nBrow arched, she allowed him to finish speaking. Though she couldn't *Exactly* Follow his train of thought, she blinked before nodding in slow agreement. Well, everyone had to test things somehow, and she wasn't particularly an expert in magical development. But, if anything she'd gathered from training with Henryk was true, his idea was likely a good one. She stood slowly, removing her feet from the pool with a decisive flick to shed any excess water that may cause them to slip.\n\n\"As you wish!\" With some amount of enthusiasm, she took up her position.\n\nFrom behind her eyes came curiosity, the edges of her lips turned upward. The shimmer of excitement came from the same place as the childish joy of frolicking in the forest. Experimentation was a process she was still quite unfamiliar with. Truth be told, she'd only dared to think outside the box a handful of times- and those had made her hunger for more. Despite the drilled-in ideas the House had placed into her, Aylera was indeed a free woman now. With that freedom came the apparent option to toy with this man's idea. For it, she'd give him her best punch.\n\nWithout further questioning, the elf gave him a nod and was immediately in motion. With a step and twist of her hips, she went to strike Henryk's woven hands. A flash of motion was all it was in the end, the nearly silent tap of her step and sway of clothing and hair the only evidence of her action. That was, of course, until Henryk did whatever it was he was attempting." }, { "author": "Doctor Henryk", "message": "Henryk watched and observed as his eyes trained on Aylera and her thrown fist. He would watch it soar towards him, as his fingers were interlocked with one another— the weave of a basic.\n\nDrawing a simple incantation from his mouth, he would utter the following, `\"Wicker Basket.\"` As he spoke, the air would weave the ambient arcane essence which hung in the air— having been molded and exercised by the Alchemist. This was a `Shield` incantation, but has been modified by Henryk's mental design. As opposed to forming a simple globe, his mind saw a basket— the weaves which locked into one another and intersected, the way which the threads were so strong despite being made of simple fibres. He took the concept of weaving magic in a similar fashion, as a half shell would form. He was exposed from behind, but up front he placed this barrier which was woven in the same way the basket was— meeting Aylera's fist as the shield would absorb the blow. The way in which it was formed, it better handled the kinetic energy. The way it was made dispersed it far more effectively as opposed to being a mere wall of arcane energy.\n\nThe 'Wicker Basket' sustained itself— it needed a lot more work still, but the weave formation was possible. The working absorbed the blow just as effectively as a regular shield, but since its nature to be like a basket instead of a thick wall of magic, it consumed _less_ energy. Perhaps not efficient yet, Henryk was still a beginner in Abjuration, in the hands of someone like Aylera it can be elevated. This basket-like weave could be used for many things— maybe she could incorporate it into her use of barriers for platforms.\n\nOnce Henryk was satisfied, he removed his hands from each other, the warding fading. \"Sloppy— but the beginning of something. A wicker basket. It's oddly strong and durable despite being made of plant, no? I realize it's not the material that makes it strong, rather it's structure. I applied the same thing to the barrier... And it appears to have worked.\" \n\nHenryk let out a hefty sigh. \"Still, _I_ need to work on being more efficient casting without the use of my salves. I don't have quiet the degree of control as I'd like— it's still all very consuming...\" The Doctor sighed. \n\n\"What do you think Aylera? Does anything of what I said make sense?\" He would then suddenly ask the Paladin, he placed his hands by his hips." }, { "author": "Aylera Mialar", "message": "Netted fibers of natural material interwove themselves before her eyes. The basket absorbed the elf's fist, taking the full thrust of her strike with what looked like no trouble whatsoever. The shell allowed her the freedom of escape, and her arm dropped back to her side as quickly as it flew forward. With a shake of her wrist, Aylera's eyes flickered from her knuckles to Henryk. Unharmed, she nodded at his words, though her eyebrow raised at the return of his characteristic cynicism. Despite her heightened proficiency in Abjuration, his seemingly boundless ingenuity never failed to surprise the her.\n\n\"Indeed it works, but do not be too harsh on yourself. You know better than I that magic is no singular action, less so its creation and cultivation\". Their proximity had them within arm's reach, and a gentle hand rested upon Henryk's shoulder. \"It is consuming, yes, but that is where practices like this,\" Her opposite hand gestured toward the small waterfall rumbling in the background, \"-come in to assist. I think it makes sense both in your realm of logic and in nature\". A smile crested her lips as she finished her sentence, and she gave the man a pat before returning his personal space back to him.\n\nWeaving her fingers together, she brought her hands up to her face, studying the shape them. With one eye shut, a hazel iris blinked from behind a pattern of latticework. \"Truth be told, I think you're quite the genius. It took me about a century of schooling before I felt I truly connected with magic on a deeper level\". A soft laugh followed as she turned her fingers toward the sun, shadows carving over her tanned skin. In the contrast of the bright sunlight, one could just make out the freckles that dotted the high parts of her face.\n\n\"Even then, it took an oath to my goddess to come to that. I respect your dedication, Henryk, and I am sure that you'll be more than simply successful in this endeavor\".\n\nFace still turned to the sky, her arms fell back to her sides in rhythmic harmony with her breath. Aylera let the light warm her for a long moment, followed by a sigh of contentment. Until now, learning had been a sore spot for Aylera. It felt cursed with memories of the past, rooted in droning lectures and repetitive practices that seemed to numb the mind rather than stimulate it. But this learning, it sparked something within the elven woman, and she again felt the rush in pursuit of knowledge. \"In my opinion, you're just as- if not more gifted than those blessed with magic running through their veins. Ha, if our sparring has taught me anything, it is that you're one force to be reckoned with-\" Playfulness laced her tone as she gave him a reassuring look, \"-even if you can't shoot a turkey\"." }, { "author": "Duke Henryk Argith", "message": "He nod his head along, before letting out a scoff. \"Next time I'll get that turkey.\" The Doctor responded with an eye roll, before crossing his arms. \"Although for now, I think you've done plenty for me, Aylera.\" He would speak before making a smile.\n\n\"I believe you've done enough for me these last two days— for that I cannot thank you enough. However, I do believe its time I retire from this retreat and return to Lazaroth. I still have my duties to the Duchess— my Fiancée.\" Henryk would explain in brief.\n\n\"You know...\" He would scan Aylera up and down. \"...How about you come to the wedding? It will take place sometime soon— and you and I are friends. I could use some individuals of a friendly persuasion to observe the event.\" \n\nThe radiant blue eyes met with Aylera's. \"Think on it. I'd appreciate it.\" He'd say. \"Now then— I think I should go clean up. Can't return to Syvathere a muddy mess. My Fiancée may envy how intimate we were this retreat.\" He said jokingly. \n\nHenryk took a few paces, then paused. \"Erm— Could you lead us back to camp? My tracking skills aren't as sharp as yours.\" \n\nA chuckle escaped his lips." }, { "author": "Aylera Mialar", "message": "Giving the man a slight bow in respect, Aylera returned his smile. Acknowledging his existing responsibilities, she had nearly forgotten just how much of a life he had outside their playful learning methods. The elf ran her fingers through her loose hair as she returned upright, trying not to giggle at his response to her joke. \"It has been my pleasure, Henryk\".\n \nFollowing his invitation, she pursed her lips in consideration of the offer. It wasn't like she had anything better to do- and the realization unsettled her slightly. Having a purpose or goal was more inspiring than she had anticipated, and the thought of seeking another cause was tempting. In her thought, she kept her quiet smile, though her ideas flickered across her hazel irises.\n\nThen, her giggle escaped into a laugh at her friend. A friend, she'd actually made herself a true friend outside her xenophobic culture- how absolutely refreshing. Though it may seem small, something in her clicked into place at the realization. Her smile softened, and a glimmer of childlike joy flickered across her gaze. A few steps and she poised herself to guide him back.\n\n\"I'm sure your Fiancée will be more shocked at how much you've grown in such little time. If she questions anything, it'd be your newly sharpened skill with a bow.\" Another light laugh met the gentle breeze. \"I'd love to meet her, and would be most honored to attend as a friendly face\". Following the overgrown deer path they had entered from, she shot him one last grin, freckles on her dimpled cheeks exposed in the warmth of daylight. \"You'll have to be my guide then, I've never been to a wedding!\"\n\nWith that, the two found themselves back at camp. The burning sun above graced the meadow in golden splendor, and wildflowers decorated the space as their departure was imminent. As they parted ways, the call of wild turkeys accompanied them on their divergent paths at the forest's edge." } ]	708	23,440
429.307692	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Vayra Vakara", "message": "The Greenheart Forest! The largest in all of Lucidien, and with it carrying all manner of treasures and discovery. With the Adventurer's guild just neighbouring the land at the North East, a reputation certainly found itself! And of another, its unbearably large scale. With wonderful sights, comes prowling predator. With a famed history for Adventuring, comes the inexperienced finding themselves on the wrong trail. One such case, came not from the North East but the Southern Sands of Khisfire! A Horned Trickster, with a hunger for adventure! Lands, yet uncharted to her.\n\nA Forest so large, so far spanning. - It was a sight this Khisfiran could rarely imagine. And especially, never to find herself so deep in the middle of it. Shamefully lost.\n\nA hand crossing a stray illustration spread far between both hands, bravely angling it to face what brightness Solaris could offer with the natural cover that were those towering trees above her. Finally a glint of vision, and yet her path remained ever the mystery. Attention shifting instead to the natural cues of the land around her, the Tiefling could do little but see the place as a winding labyrinth. It was a struggle to despise her very own prison however, its beauty holding no understatement. Still, she envied the past Vayra that stood at the entrance of this Forest! So eager, so prepared. - Oh, how she imagined her disapproval at the state she was in now.\n.\n\nAnd of her state, it was a certainly unique one! Long raven locks descended down to the upper half of her body, free and loose with little need for a braid or care! Hidden within lurked the sprouting of her pointed ears, Tiefling fashion and clearly of devilish design. And from the top of her head, sprouted two clear horns of a darker complexion. Mirroring perhaps, the ashen tones of her skin darting along her face and body. A colour so dim, yet covering a most welcoming smile. Fanged and cheeky was the usual description, only reflected further by the golden hue of her observant eyes. Mirroring the Khisfiran Sun, some would eye. Always carrying a piece of her homeland with her. The dash of makeup remained light for travel, a dash of dark around her eyes.\n\nOf her clothing, now there she seemed most shameless. Even in a forest like Greenheart, the desert had decidedly followed her. At first an unassuming cloak danced over her form, clearly intended for Alynthi but not hiding everything from underneath. No, instead the bright colours of Khisfire would remain subtlely revealed. Her garb painting the similar style to a Khisfiran dancer, grey skin meshing with the vibrance of her culture. Form fitting wear adapted for a lightweight Sorceress, and in particular an Illusionist who found clear fun in her casting. A sash of items hugging at a sizeable hip, this was the clear description of the Illusionist Vayra Vakara!:\n\nAn Illusionist, so clearly out of her element as she struggled with the next path. Thankfully, untouched by the dangers that certainly lurked. For now." }, { "author": "Ehkan Noran Kippat", "message": "Home rarely comes calling, or rather, his home away from home. The Letter from the House of Lions came in earlier this week, and Ehkan had read through it twice to ensure he understood it clearly. \n\n The Drogons attacked one of the settlements, and it was not the common savage raid that they were accustomed to, but rather, organized chaos. There were no casualties, but they fended them off with major injuries. The Drogons often kept to themselves, living far away from the elves, but now this makes the second attack within the month. \n\n That was worth the worry of the elders, and whatever the elders found worrying often became worrying to Ehkan as well. \n\n Ehkan needed to clear his head, so he went to the one place that often gifted him with distractions, the Forest. He did not want a hunt, he had no interest in taking out his frustrations on some poor animal going about its day, so instead, he sat on a high branch and closed his eyes, allowing nature to sing him its song. \n\n He stayed there for most of the day, ignoring most creatures that came about and tried to bother him up until he heard the unmistakable sound of a twig being snapped. \n\n It could have just been an animal, but it caught his attention, so he opened an eye and looked around beneath him, nobody was in sight, but he felt a presence somewhere. He sighed, stretched, pulled his spear, and hopped off the branch to the forest floor below. \n\n He figured it could be just another adventurer walking through the forest, but lately, this forest has held a few nasty surprises for him, like that boulder that turned out to be a golem, or that demon ritual he stumbled into.\n\nHe kept walking towards where the sound came from, careful not to step on any branch, then eventually he spotted a figure holding what he figured to be a map. He kept his distance and even circled to get a better look. \n\n A tiefling woman, that seemed completely out of her element. From the dressing, he could tell she was much more used to hotter climates, but here, he feared the mosquitoes were certainly having a meal out of her. Khisfarian, he guessed. \n\n The beauty that came from the land of Sand and Sun was always noticeable. \n\n \"Now what would you be doing out here by yourself?\" Ehkan muttered. He took a moment then stepped into view with his spear pointing toward her, beauty should never be a reason to let his guard down, he'd made that mistake before. \n\n \"Easy,\" Ehkan told her in common as he pulled off his cloak's hood to reveal his face. \"No sudden moves. I don't intend to hurt you, so don't give me a reason to.\"" }, { "author": "Vayra Vakara", "message": "It was always the snap of a twig. The victim of careless feet, and one so focused on her map. Oblivious to the circling of the intrigued individual, her attention would only be caught when he planned it. And of course, came in that perhaps taunting question of his.\n\nNaturally, surprise overcame her expression, a belief clear that the sounds of nature typically never spoke common. With a shift of her head and general form, her eyes soon lay upon a figure closing in. The origin of these words!\n\nWith a squint, Vayra soon clued in to this figure. A Man. His attire showcasing experience, and looked to be quite well built. Oh, and that he was pointing a spear right at her. \n\n\"Oh! Uhh.. Hi..?\" - In the awkwardness of the situation, that was all Vayra seemed to muster. It would seem her voice held a particular accent. Khisfiran to be sure, likely one of the more pronounced in the Towns neighbouring Alynthi. Her hands slightly raised mocking some act of surrender, a tilt at her head as she watched the Man remain ever cautious. There, now able to get a good look at his face and the ears that spoiled his Elvish origin. \"Okay, okay. No.. Sudden moves, mhm!\"\n\nAn attempt to reassure reflected in her move to offer a recovering smile, her golden gaze flickering between the spear and the man in question. By how close he was getting, clearly that attire of hers was Khisfiran. The protection of her cloak remained faintly evident, masking little in the way of weapons or armour. Perhaps she was unarmed, or a Mage? Who truly knew..?" }, { "author": "Ehkan Noran Kippat", "message": "Definitely Khisfarian. \n\n Ehkan stared at her momentarily, making sure his stare was stern enough for her to be worried, before looking down at what she had dropped when surprised. A map, he could tell from a glance that it was very dated, the Greenheart Woods was an ever-changing maze even to most monsters, Ehkan's advantage was his familiar who he sent over the canopy to guide him through. \n\n She however seemed to be lacking such an advantage, and from how easily he crept up on her he figured she'd been at this for maybe the better part of an hour. \n\n Ehkan lowered his spear and circled her. No weapon caught his attention, perhaps they were hidden from view, but so far she seemed cautious enough to attack him, but then again, she might be a spell caster. He had no advantage against spell casters, he always said he would widen his horizon but he hasn't found the time nor the interest. \n\n \"What are you doing all the way out here, fellow child of the Sands? Khisfire is a while away, and this weather is no place for...\" He gestured to her clothes before stopping in front of her again. \n\n \"You're not in trouble,\" He promised as he finally put his spear aside and leaned on the tree behind him. \"Yet. But it is mighty suspicious.\"" }, { "author": "Vayra Vakara", "message": "Of all that she expected in the Greenheart, it was never this. Feeling herself forced to lower her eyes upon that stern stare of his, her attempts at a reassuring smile seemed to fade aswell. Map now littered on the ground infront, the Khisfiran Mage felt those eyes of his stranger all around during his circling. \n\nIf push came to shove, she wondered how well she'd fare. Maybe this was a Bandit of some kind, intending on stealing her goods! Could she vanish in time, or trap him in a temporary maze? Her mind spun in circles at the possible conclusions, yet seeming to slow as Ehkan brought her to reality. \n\nA fellow child of the sands, he would say. A reaction, almost instantly, as her eyes seemed to brighten up. A fellow Khisfiran! Brought to halt upon his words however and the obvious glance, Vayra following it with a brief gesture at her quite blatant showing of skin. - Ever common in the lands of her origin. \n\n\"They say that you can't take Khisfire out of a Khisfiran, heh? But uh, yes.. This Forest is no fan. The Cities were, though!\" \n\nVayra seemed to start her explanation, relaxing herself upon the lowering of that spear. A step would be made, hands formerly raised now used to gesture and explain herself.\n\n\"I came from the North of Khisfire, met a travelling group in Nazucar. They offered to take me along to see some of Alynthi. The flowery Willowdale, then to the Capital of Varilon! Well, uhm, I was about to head back. - But some man offered me this map! Said I could go through the Greenheart Forest as a shortcut, and avoid the busier roads.\" \n\nLikely the work of a conman, no less. - An older map that Vayra was clearly oblivious to. Her ability to trust anyone was truly a fault she struggled to get rid of. Watching the Elf lean on his tree, a smile would be made then falter upon his threat of suspicion.\n\n\"Tsst, seriously? I'm harmless! I was just following the map, mhm! I guess, not very well? Still! I'm Vayra, by the way? Uh, Mister Forest Guard..?\"" }, { "author": "Ehkan Noran Kippat", "message": "Ehkan listened to her story attentively. He did nothing but nod and smile as she spoke about how she had obviously been sold a terrible map and was now lost in these vast woods. In truth, he was surprised nothing had chased her this deep in the forest, then again the beasts here tended to avoid mortals unless they stepped into their territory, or were starving. \n\n \"There is no true map of the Greenheart woods, my dear.\" He gestured to where she had been walking through. \"There are no proper paths, and whenever anyone had tried to build any sort of road the guardian entities such as golems and the like come about and rip it apart. The best way to get out of this place is by not coming in here at all.\"\n\n He got off the tree and poked at the map. \"This man just needed a few coins and sold you something bogus, it's not your fault though, maps are essential to travelers.\" \n\n Ehkan leaned his spear on his shoulder and began walking away, only stopping to gesture that she should tag along. \"I am not a Forest Guard, and I do not believe we even have those. I am Ehkan Norran Kippat of the House of Lions, Journeyman in the Adventurer guild, and I just happen to be here to... Clear my head. Stumbling into you is more of a pleasant coincidence.\"" }, { "author": "Vayra Vakara", "message": "No true map of Greenheart woods. The tale bewildered her, yet seemed to excite all the same! A shameless look of wonder that rushed across her face, at the very dwelling she found herself within. It should have frightened her, these tales, but her mind was set upon adventure! And now, a surprised frown as she found herself tricked by the man who sold her the map.\n\n\"Huh? He was lying to me..? But he seemed so friendly! Gods, tch.\" - Ehkan's reasoning seemed to brighten her mood at the very least, enough for Vayra to cease her pouting as she watched that map become useless in her eyes. Her former guide, now discarded upon the prod of this strange Elf.\n\nOne, who looked to be walking away mid speech! A daunting thought came to mind, of being abandoned while thrown that hurdle of being conned. Now left to her lonesome, atleast until that welcoming gesture that invited her to follow. The Tiefling couldn't help but smile, an appreciative look as she ever so eagerly followed after the Elf that would be her new guide! A smile clear as she inspected Ehkan within her previous silence.\n\nCloak brushing against the wind to reveal traces of more ashen skin and her Khisfiran attire, Vayra soon grew comfortable enough to get close enough at the other's side. Attentive enough, her devilish ears twitched in contemplation at the words she heard. No Forest Guard, but an identity that seemed to intrigue her all the same! \n.\n\n\"Ehkan, huh? I like that name! House of Lions? Adventurer's guild? Much more than a Forest guard, heh!\" - The Tiefling's Khisfiran accent caught a tinge of cheekiness, playful in its own right as her golden gaze watched at the Elf she followed. To be a pleasant coincidence had amused her enough, eyes scanning that meaning with a tinge of intrigue. Meanwhile, her lips parting once more for a taste of that Khisfiran accent again. \n\n\"Pleasant? Dont act like you don't see Khisfiran Tiefling all the time in this forest!\" - Vayra snickered, tease implied as she quickly added. \"Oh! I said I was Vayra, but never the fancy titles like you.. Vayra Vakara! Illusionist. Adventurer, and uh.. Aspiring performer, some day! Mmh, is this the right path out? Wherever we're going..\"" }, { "author": "Ehkan Noran Kippat", "message": "Ehkan chuckled at Vayra's playful demeanor, it was far better than the somber attitude that he had when entering the forest earlier, hearing her joke about his titles made him think of home for a moment, but not with sadness, rather he remembered how fun it was to be there.\n\n The people there saw him, as she had put it, fancy, the children there would race to his side asking for gifts and tales of his adventures across the lands, and the elders, though they still saw him as a tad too childish, did somehow respect him in their odd way. \n\n If the attacks continued... All that would be lost. \n\n He would need allies to face that task beyond just the House. But that was a worry for tomorrow, but he was thankfully distracted by the lovely woman, who also reminded him of his first home.\n\n It had been an age since he was there, Vayra's accent, her clothing, and even her smile mimicked the warmth he recalled. \n\n \"Believe it or not, it's rare to even run into people this far in,\" He told her. \"I'm surprised you made it this far without anything taking an interest in you. Though with your illusion magic, I guess you could escape without an issue. As to where we're going, since you're here you might as well get to see the sights, no?\"\n\nHe kept walking, ensuring that neither of them stepped on any twig or fallen branch, and this went on until the sound of running water filled the air. \n\n He guided her down the steep drop that led to the river bank, then into a large bush for cover. At first, he said nothing, only placing his finger against his lips as a sign that she should remain quiet, then he opened the bush so she could see what lay beyond. \n\n Across the river, either unaware of their presence or not bothered by it, were three Tetyrons. Incredibly massive regal-looking creatures that Ehkan had been tracking just so he could ensure their pup had not been snatched away, and there the pup was in between her parents, lapping in water without a care in the world. \"I haven't seen them in about a week,\" He whispered to Vayra. \"They're stunning aren't they?\"" }, { "author": "Vayra Vakara", "message": "Unaware of the effect her words secretly offered, the Tiefling seemed to remain at peace in the calm of the Forest. Meeting a stranger, and now guided by him. No tone of suspicion, but a carefree smile that invoked the clear case of her trusting mindset. \n\n\"Rare, huh?\" A brow perked in surprise, likely taking the friendliness of Ehkan as a sign of the attitudes within. It would become a realisation of the chance encounter she luckily found herself in, saved by an expert of this Forest. Of his surprise involving her avoidance of creatures, the boast of her magic would come with a smirk. \n\n\"Mhm! Missed any nasty surprises, luckily. Though, you're not entirely right. I did catch one person's interest, heh..?\" - By her tone, it seemed quite who she was alluding to. Cheekiness on display in all a friendly manner, her tail swishing against her Khisfiran garb happily.\n\nThe path he was leading her through was an intriguing one, and his explanation surely brought more surprise. Vayra felt quite flattered under it all, a former spear wielding Forest guard now an eager Forest guide! A remark she wanted to joke about, but the anticipation of a lovely sight brought her into action over words. \n.\n\n\"Oooh..?\" - The mutter of intrigue playing at her lips, as she followed quickly and closer to the Man than before. No longer did she fear the spear, but get excited at the adventure ahead. Fallen branches avoided by his guidance, until her devilish ears caught on with a subtle flex. The sounds of water, then the steep drops downward through the clearing obscuring vision. \n\nA grand surprise awaited her, further enhanced by his gesture towards her. To keep quiet, and such reasoning would be answered as the bush opened and out sprouted nature in its most wondrous form. Vayra's eyes visibly widened, any words cut to silence as she sighted the large and majestic creatures. Parents with their child, enjoying the sweet calm that the inner Forests of Greenheart typically hid. \n\nEhkan's whispers caught a particularly notable smile from the Horned one. Something genuine and warm to the senses, absolutely caught up in the thrill of this sudden adventure. \"Stunning..? They're.. They're amazing. What are they?\" - Whispering back, naturally she kept close while her eyes kept pierced upon the wondrous sight. Vayra was surely an adventurer, but didn't know everything. There was no guild that she stuck to, to assist." }, { "author": "Ehkan Noran Kippat", "message": "\"Tetyrons,\" Ehkan answered as he watched the three animals drink their fill. \"They aren't endangered or anything, but time and time again some person believed themselves capable of taming them and often tried to abduct their pups. It always ends up horribly wrong because a Tetyron can smell its offspring from miles off, and though they're often gentle they have a mean ass temper.\" \n\n At the end of his sentence, he noticed the male was staring directly at them. He forgot that their hearing was also a perk they had, but fortunately, all the beast did was gruff and guide his family away from the river. Ehkan muttered a silent prayer, he wasn't sure how he would deal with them if they became aggressive. \n\n \"It's safe,\" He told Vayra. \"I think they know I mean no harm, otherwise we might have needed your illusions.\"\n\n Ehkan stood and picked the leaves off his body then stopped and did the same for Vayra. \"Come on, we're losing daylight, and I think you would enjoy the city once the moon shows her face.\" \n\n He jumped to the top of the steep drop and offered his hand to help her up. \"Though, because the people here as less... I will say fashionable than us desert folk, you'll probably need a change of clothes. I know a great tailor who owes me a favor if you are comfortable with having to dress differently out there.\"" }, { "author": "Vayra Vakara", "message": "Tetyrons. She always liked to learn something new, however simple or filled with explanation. It seemed she wouldn't earn just the name, but a detail of Ehkan's findings. Poachers, their reference earning a frown as she eyed the innocent animals within their domain. To be plucked from it was a terrible fate to her, that much clear as she quietly scoffed at Ehkan's mention of pups being taken. \n\n\"A deserved temper.\" - Vayra replied simply, whispering evident as her gaze focused back to Ehkan. His sudden caution alerted her but seemed to calm upon his reassurance. A snicker in kind at the thought of casting and sneaking about. \n\nThe Tiefling seemed to be enjoying this little adventure so far, the attention Ehkan had offered her. - Seeming to cause quite an affect on the Young Khisfiran. Rather surprisingly, the Elf Adventurer looked to have more for her, as the brief removal of leaves caught her by surprise with a playful scoff. \n\n\"Tst, Hey..! Huh..?\" - Surprise at his offer, one so subtle yet Vay catching on quick. An invite to see the City with him. Much more than simply leading her out of this vast Forest. \n\nSeeing him mantle up upon the steep they originally dropped, Vayra couldn't help but stop just as the hand was offered. A sly look, practically betrayed by her smirk as she watched Ehkan's face very closely. A moment to ponder.\n\n\"You.. You really wanna use that favour all on me? Heh, okay!\" - The Tiefling expectantly took his offered hand, presumably waiting to be supported up as her words seemed to continue. Now this was a new adventure all together, and one Vayra didn't seem to be refusing just yet. \n\n\"Could he make something nice for me..? I don't quite get Alynthi style.. Maybe you'd like to be the judge?\" - Vayra seemed to poke at Ehkan's interest in her, words vague yet offering all subtle meaning to try and get some answers from behind his sweet gestures." }, { "author": "Ehkan Noran Kippat", "message": "\"My dear, left to me, you're as perfect as you are right now,\" Ehkan told her without skipping a beat. He would not hide his attraction for a woman unless she asked him to, and by her tone, he figured that she was quite right with a little flirtation. \"But yes, the tailor is well up to speed on the latest Alynthi fashion, and using the favor on you is very okay.\" \n\n \"Besides, he would probably want to have a look at you, not a lot of Khisfirians venture this way. The Kingdoms are understandably not on good terms with one another.\" He shrugged as the politics between them was of no interest to him, and regardless of nationality, he knew better than to judge someone solely on where they called home. \n\n Like Stormborne for instance, the man was a swashbuckling madman and Ehkan would rather die fighting beside him than with some members of the Guild. Hmm... He might be interested in checking out the jungle if Ehkan were to mention it. \n\n \"Anywho,\" He continued. \"You need not worry about paying back the favor, as it is a favor, and as a guest in Alynthi it's only right that you are treated to its delights. Afterwards, I will get you a proper map from the Guild Cartographer so that you won't stumble into a more dangerous forest, or run into far less handsome elves.\" He flicked his dreadlocks playfully at that part and grinned at her." }, { "author": "Vayra Vakara", "message": "\"..Oh.\" That silvery tongue out in action, Vayra simply unprepared to contest! Helped up and while close would she be caught by those words, the Tiefling fluttering a shameless rose at her ashen-skinned cheeks. It seemed she recieved some confirmation, and confidently so. No words would be offered in regards to that topic, simply a coy smile as she eased back and out into the familiar Forest view. \n\n\"..Mmh, I'd love to meet him. A new style might be fun while out of the sands, heh.\" - Vayra spoke of the other topics, yet his first tone of flattery still muddled her mind. The Tiefling seemed to avoid the politics, aswell, simply tracing the familiar path of the Forest in expectation of Ehkan's further guidance. \n\nBut Ehkan's addition of finding a map for her seemed to genuinely add on to that surprise. The Tiefling seemed more and more intrigued by this stranger in the Forest, showering her with offerings and gleeful guides. Perhaps he needed the company? Or perhaps he was simply too kind of a soul to ignore her..? \n\nRegardless, Vayra couldn't help but lose herself to a giggle. - eyes spying towards Ehkan's shameless grin. \n\n\"Heh, really..? Seems like the bad map brought me alot more luck than expected, hm? Okay, okay! Let's go, before you get too crazy with your gifts! Lead the way, Mr Forest Guide.\" Playfully, her words concluded with a gesture to the Forest beyond. It seemed she wouldn't be rid of this Adventurer yet. - And it seemed like she didn't mind at all." } ]	439	5,581

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