This is an Offshoot of The Darkened Path, with a change in worlds. Welcome to my world, the Planet is Azuir, the Continent is Thoren, and the kingdom is Rylanor, which is even now being carve out of the wilds of the lands surrounding the Great Eagle Lake.
See answer in Q/A Forum. Then can you please delete the post in the game thread. I will formally end TDP in a couple of posts Jeanne has to post for Dae which she will do tommorrow as today had her running all over town getting ready for our big horse show.
“Centuries ago, the human nations of Branda and Udonel were the epitome of mankind’s mastery of the magical energies that ebb and flow across Bhriuthainn. Like everything they had ever undertaken since the dawn of their kind men grasped the intricacies of bending mana to their wills quicker than any other race ever had (with the exception, perhaps, of the Ancient Dragons who are believed to be the first ever magic users to exist), and just as quickly adapted themselves to the new powers they had discovered and, as is often the case with Men, adapted those same powers to serve their own needs.
In the grand scheme of things (and certainly by the standards of some of the longer-lived races) it was not long after Valis, the first kingdom of Men, had been established that two of her most adept wizards struck out on their own in hopes of establishing schools of magic that would rival (and possibly exceed the capabilities of) even the Ivae academies in Rilshen and her Border Kingdoms. Udo Voth and Callari Branda were childhood friends and had studied arcane and lore together as long as either could remember. In their youth, they often challenged one another to competitions to see which of them could master a given spell quicker, uncover ancient magics first, or twist the mana flows into new forms that even the elves had yet to manage. As the abilities of the two friends grew so, too, did their prestige, their friendly rivalry, and most importantly, their need to venture out beyond the borders of their homeland in search of secrets that could only be discovered outside the Valisian precincts. So it was, with the blessings and authority of their king that the two ventured east from the Kingdom of Men and brought human magic into what was, at the time, still known as the Rilshen Empire. Each of them sought out nexus points – great gathering pools of power created by crossings and mergings of the mana-lines identified millennia ago by the Ancients and rediscovered once more by the Ivae after their exodus from Yarra Maskan – in hopes of tapping those reserves of arcane energy and increasing their own power all for the “good of Men,” of course. Udo discovered one of these nexus points in the lands beyond the Ambin country of Hoan and Callari found his own much farther to the south, just east of the lands now known as Corelan and Reylmoen. Indeed, it was less than twenty years from the time the mages ventured forth from Valis’ borders that the spires of their towers stretched skyward, attracting students, followers, soldiery, and common-folk alike. The mage spires grew and so did the complexes and towns at their feet. The human expansion into the elven lands had begun and the whittling away of the once continent spanning Rilshen Empire was soon to follow. The lands around the towers for hundreds of miles was soon claimed by the mages and the others who followed or were drawn to them and not another decade had passed before the magocratic regions known as Branda and Udonel were established as “principalities of the Valisian expansion.”
Had the King of Valis known what this expansion would bring, though, he would likely have thought better of sending Udo and Callari forth as the tip of his expansionist spear. With humans, you see, magic seems to instill a haughty arrogance and a sense of entitlement and, as both of the mages grew in power so too did they become more secretive, more arrogant, and more protective of the nexuses over which they held sway. Naming them princes of Valis and granting them sovereignty over the lands they had claimed “in the name of the King” had perhaps doomed a human empire as opposed to making it a possibility. It certainly changed the relationship between the two wizards and, as each of their holdings grew, their once friendly rivalry eventually deteriorated into hatred and derision. Each grew jealous of what the other had accomplished and, through the lessons and rhetoric imparted to the students who came form far and wide to study under them, so too did Branda and Udonel’s peoples come to hold each other in disdain. As these tensions mounted, Valis repeatedly sent emissaries to each of the spires in hopes of reigning the mages back in and bringing them back into keeping with the idea of growing a human empire on the face of a world still dominated by the elves. Udo and Callari, though, had grown beyond being dictated to by “mundane politics” and serving the interests of Valis. Their concerns drifted ever farther away from their original mandate and had become more focused on their own rivalry. The last emissaries dispatched to Branda and Udonel were never heard from again, though the captains of their guard were each sent back with declarations of secession. Branda and Udonel would no long kowtow to Valisian authority; they were now magocratic nations by their own right and under their own decree.
For years hostilities between Valis and the two new ‘rogue nations’ intensified. Valisian forces perpetually launched campaigns into Branda and Udonel and, to their credit, the wizard nations never failed to repel the onslaughts. After a time, Valis chose to ‘cut it’s losses’ where the former principalities were concerned and left Branda and Udonel to their own devices (albeit begrudgingly) in order to focus its expansion efforts elsewhere. Udo and Callari, though, had come to enjoy the warring and, once the Valisians gave up the fight, the two nations turned their hostilities towards each other. To this day, no one is certain what sparked the final war between the two wizard nations but the entire world bore witness to the end result. For decades powerful magics were hurtled back and forth between the two nations, arcane knights battled over borders and mana pools, and strange, never before seen creatures were brought to bear in the confrontations. The generations long conflict seemed to end suddenly, though, when, some hundred and a half years ago, the mage spires in both Branda and Udonel literally exploded and spewed forth what can only be likened to tidal waves of mana across both countries. The chaostorms scoured all signs of life from the once powerful human lands and for many years to follow not even insects could be found venturing close to the borders. In their place now existed a great swath of magically scourged desolation, fraught with wild magic storms, buried mysteries, and, for those who dared venture across the borders, certain death. The countries of Branda and Udonel were no more. Now there were only The Barrens.
It has been nearly sixty years since anyone, whether at the direction of their governments or by sheer love of adventure, has ventured into these foreboding realms. Most seem content to skirt the borders of the places that were and some nations that share those borders have gone as far as prohibiting travelers from crossing into the Barrens from their own countries for fear of what might be awakened and brought back on them. Recently, though, there have been rumors that something stirs in the Barrens. Something living. Something other than the chaostorms and gibbering packs of troggies that run the fringes of the desolate place. A flight of dragon-riders, returning from a battle in Jadwa Qassam to their aerie north of Zaral, skirted the borders of the Barrens and reported seeing mage spires rising from the ruined landscapes and cities sprawling at their feet. Seers from human, elven, and dwarven nations, too, began reporting strange visions as a result of the scryings that they had focused on the former Branda and Udonel. Then, as if to ascertain that something did indeed stir in the wasted expanses of the Barrens, an Ancient Gold dragon has, in the past months, been seen patrolling but never venturing out of, the confines of the mana-charged airspace.
The unexpected return of an Ancient Dragon to so conspicuous an area of Rilshen has caused great concern among the Princes of Rilshen as well as the human and dwarven lands that border the Barrens. That, in conjunction with the reports that have been gathered from the Dragon-Riders of the North, the Clans of the Steppes, and others who have been bold enough to venture close to the borders, has recently goaded a council to convene and determine what should be done to address the apparent renewal of life, there. At first, legions of men and elves and dwarves were dispatched. Sent over the borders and into the Barrens to bring back some physical proof that what was transpiring there was more than the workings of strange magic and rippling mana fields. Soldiery en masse, though, was not to be tolerated by whatever it was that had taken up residence in the heart of the Barrens. Most of the troops who have been dispatched there never returned and those that did had been stricken so mad that we would have preferred they died there.
Which is why you all have been sent to me,” Seldan Seralonde regards the group assembled before him, his gaze moving fluidly from face to face, trying to gauge the capabilities of those who had answered the call, “The Council, with advice from our seers, has decided that a smaller group may be a more effective approach to delving into this matter and, with that in mind, each of our members have selected you as their representatives…”
((OOC: In hopes of getting this moving and delaying this thing no longer than I already have, I’ll cut the intro there. You/we have all traveled to Nedeluma at the request of one gov’t, organization, entity or another and have been told that we are to venture into the Barrens to discover why, after so long, the Barrens are not as barren as they were presumed to be… Presently, we’re all gathered before Seldan (Prince) Seralonde, regent of Nurhtir, and have just received a “history lesson” and a “subtle hint” as to what we’re looking for. Pick up and runaway with your posts from this point, folks… ask questions of the Seldan, introduce yourselves (or have the Seldan do so) and let’s get this party started… Oh, and thanks ever so much for all of your patience. ))
What words have been unspoken then, of mist and moorland. The outstretch of life that burdened and clothed all corners of this world, with limbs and leaves, silence and strangeness, the cloaking of a wordless land. What ancient and alien words have drifted beneath the rush of the waters, breathless, broken in mystery? The kingdoms of Men, leveled, high and vaulted, awaiting their retribution, for ancient tidings were brought by word of wind, over the dell, through paths untread by any Mortal man.
From the olden days, those that dwelt in darkness waited, lingering in a distant land of wolven slopes and windy headlands and unpredictable marshes, where a mountain stream chuckled and departed through dank mists between the crevasses of stone into the underdark flood and ancient trees hung through the ages, woods held by running water. Tidings of distress, long in torment, friends of shadow who listened as the world lay dreaming, dreams of gold, dreams of conquest. For the arrogance of Men will never falter.
War is coming.
Boe an edraith athi.
In the land where the darkness permeates, someone was listening to the song of the harp.
The shadows flickered carelessly over the sallow visage of the moon, like serpentine fears; one by one they penetrated the vast canopy. Over the aged they danced, for winter had thrown a shining spear, the aspens were sheeted specters. An interminable world of rebellious, insurgent vegetation. A realm where the canopy rioted and the gnarled oaks were lords. Silence reigned.
From a grey country, the shadows dwelled in darkness, and all ways were drenched from the lack of light. A whisper sounded, hardly auditable. Whispers of a source unknown. Whispers of a nameless fear. Spangled silver cascaded over the broad ebonite shoulders of the stallion as he tossed his chiseled head, shod hooves beating a lively tattoo against the rich dark earth. Sardonic whinny erupted from the beast’s great throat, silken mane obscuring the sight from the searching onyx eyes. The wind cooed supposed wisdoms, caressing the tangled dark locks of the Black Rider as he held to the ornate saddle.
His thin sensitively-drawn face was etched with grief and loss, his body wasted and bloodied, but yet he was fair. His piercing and beautiful golden-emerald eyes were like a forest in sunrise, or tinted jade. But their beauty was tainted, he was tainted, for they were cunning and cold, feral, vulpine eyes that revealed nothing, and despised everything. Eyes that were intelligent and lovely, but agonised and their supposed intelligence meant nothing, as the look of an animal, so seemly attentive means nothing. His mouth was finely sculpted and silent, and a gaunt dangerous beauty coloured his visage, a beauty not so much as lovingly sculpted by the Gods, but rather carelessly scrawled by a Demon.
He was as a carved stone, and his features were sharp and prominent, with a smooth brow, a noble, narrow nose and high arrogant cheekbones. A hard man, immutable, unchanging. Unaccustomed to the saddle, he rode with a quiet dignity, his ebonite cloak whipping about him, features shrouded by the deep hood.
Through the shimmer of darkness the lights of civilisation glimmered like indolent dragon eyes, malignant spirits or daemons bent on leading adventures to peril. Grass and soil became unyielding stone, solitude became companionship. Skeletons of long forgotten establishments replaced the ashen specters of his travel. Sterling silver was cast from the heavens, light rain that flew over his pallid visage and stemmed blood flow.
The wind sighed. The waters laughed. The lithe body shook under the meager cloak, his eyes darkened and focused. Without thinking he clutched at the thin childishly woven necklace that sprawled across his slender throat. Startled, he lowered it and looked morbidly on the hands that had thrown dirt over three tiny coffins. Adventure became desperation. Terror became nothingness for the wanderer who held the moors, the fens and the fastness. The lights of the city were malevolent, preventing rest, preventing closure.
As the relentless hands relaxed from the weathered reins the stallion directed himself, pressing on towards the understated summer home through the pouring rain even though all movement had ceased. Weariness had overcome him and he slowed his frantic pace. Beautiful head dropped, sturdy legs shook with fatigue. A familiar voice, pained and commanding whispered through the darkness as a final jerk of the reins directed the wayward beast as they reached their lavish destination.
Twin boots touched the cobblestones in hushed tones, a slight merry twinkling sounding from the glittering spurs. A gloved hand blended into the onyx pelt of the animal. Feral eyes pierced suspiciously through the darkness as he stalked forward swiftly and silently, the only sound in his wake the whispering of his cloak against the cobblestones.
Quickly he adjusted his baldric, brushing quickly over the seven gleaming buttons that wryly revealed his identity, and clutched the glittering jewel-adorned hilt of the hanger cutlass that spoke so eloquently of the heady days of sea piracy. Lowering the deep, all encompassing hood, he shook free the dark locks that hung in his eyes and with a single sweeping motion, tossed open the simple door. The resulted sound echoed, disrupting and disturbing. A few heads turned in his direction, uncomforable.
He smiled wolfishly.
It was what he was best at.
" Your cloak, sir", a servant inquired softly, unsettled by the brooding and rather soaked man in black. Relentless and glacial eyes shifted to regard him as the servant timidly stretched out a hand to touch the rough woven surface of his cloak. With almost unearthly reflexes, the man in black darted his hand forward and caught the servant`s before his fingers could brush the material. The servant glanced up to him in sudden shock.
"Leave it", he whispered quietly. It was not a suggestion.
The corner of his mouth had turned upward in cool amusement.
Silence followed as stunned eyes swerved to meet the emaciated figure wreathed in ebony. Rainwater silvered his dark, snarled hair and marked his thin countenance with the appearance of tears. Like a seeping mist he slid into the interior, cold eyes lighting up with a lean and hungry look as they swept over the congregation gathered. “I’m late, I presume”, he commented coldly, his voice supremely quiet despite his intimidating appearance, with an acrid and unmistakable note of sarcasm.
Posted on 2007-09-07 at 20:50:14.
Edited on 2007-09-08 at 00:27:20 by Septimus Sandalwood
“Sounds great, when do we start,” pipes up a youngish voice hidden by the taller occupants of the room.
My ½ sister and I are ready. When do you want us to leave? I think we are about ready. Will you be giving us supplies? We did not bring much on our trip, and unfortunately we lost some on the way, as the pack was not lashed down properly. Will we need horses? That is a long way to walk. I have always wanted a horse, will I be able to pick one out for myself.”
All this came is one breath and would have gone on except for a stilling touch and a quiet.
As the late arriver steps into the room, Zara gives him an apraising look, taking in his dark aspect.
"You're late for the what, when, where, and why, but just in time for the who."
“Enough for now, Zara.”
Posted on 2007-09-08 at 00:44:05.
Edited on 2007-09-08 at 01:27:23 by Dragon Mistress
A tall young Ivae woman who had been sitting quietly at the table absorbing all the Seldar had to say and taking notes, spoke to quell the run-on rush of words from her half sister. She stood up and address the others who had gathered here. She had all the features of a pure Ivae, delicate and finely wrought features and figure, except that she was a bit more substantial in build. Hair the color of finely spun gold streaked with purest silver floated free in a mimbus about her head. Her skin was fair though lightly kissed by sun, and her spakling cerulean blue eyes saw much though she had spoken little as of yet. She radieted goodness and light.
Dressed in elegant garments in strong jewel tones of Green and deep crimson, ornately trimmed with gold embroidered designs of stylized plants and animals on the borders, she certainly made a clear staatement of who and what she was. High boots of distinctly Ivae design and decorations, fit for riding and a long deep Enerald green cloak finished her outfit. A long bastard sword and scabbard hung off her back and a bow case and quiver was hung from her left shoulder. A symbol of gold hung around her neck, and dish of gold with four great rays of gold interspesed with four lessser rays of silver.
“I would like to introduce myself, I am Dalyndra Goldenwings, Servant of the Light, sent here to aid those going on this mission. My skills are with sword and bow, a strong arm for doing right and clerical spells. Iserve Goodness and Light. I would appreciate very much to know about the rest of you. Then I would also like to ask a few questions of our host when introductions are finished.
Dalyndra sat down and let others speak as they will. She had done her own observations while the Seldar recounted the history and the current information gathered so far. She was especially curious about the details of what the Dragon Riders had seen.
Dalyndra really wanted to question the Dragon Riders directly, though she was not sure that was not possible without delaying the beginning of this mission. If they could have been here I daresay they would have been. She had come to some conclusions about those she did not know. The big man looked the fighter. The woman she was not exactly sure but she thought she was a fighter too but with lighter weapons. As for the gnome they were tinkers and gadget makers and some of their gadgets were extremely interesting, as for the last man she thought he had the look of a mage and that would be useful because Zara’s spells were limited.. Not for the want of her enthusiasm, but more of time and experience. Actually Dalyndra hoped that this trip might settle her sister down a bit so she took things a bit more seriously. Dalyndra brought her attention back to the others as the next one spoke. She kept a hand of Zara until all the others had finished.
“Keep it simple, Zara” Dalyndra whispered in an aside to her sister. “Name and what you bring to this mission. And I will replace as much as I can of our supplies from what gold I brought with me.” Dalyndra frowned at the memory of finding the camping gear pack had fallen off somewhere on their journey here. It was not worth searching all the way back along their path it could be long gone before they every got back to wherever it had fallen off. She had all the important items, armor, weapons, bedroll, her backpack and personal items. The tent, food stuffs and camping gear had been lost though.
Posted on 2007-09-08 at 00:47:40.
Edited on 2007-09-08 at 04:23:37 by Brianna
Zara's finely bowed lips came together in a tiny mou, not quite an pout, but definitely not a happy look as Dae's hand held her down. If it were not for the promise to her own mother and to Dalyndra's mother she would not have been allowed to come along on the adventure.
Not that she looked old enough to be out of the Elven enclaves. A juvenile in the first bloom of womenhood. She was shorter than her 1/2 sister by some inches. Her hair was bright gold blond and seemed to have a metallic luster to it as it waved and curled about her head like a halo and then reached well down her back, pulled straight it would reach passed her delightfully rounded bottom. Her eyes were bright yellow with a tinge of gold, much like some birds of prey, but they also twinkled with mischieviousness. Zara's skin tone was a pale golden tan, and her facial features were definitely exotic, her upswept brows, high cheek bones, large eyes, and pointed ears were all Elven and then some, only the slight upturning of her nose was different.
Her outfit was of Elven design, in golden tan and teal, and with the same golden embroidery as her 1/2 sister's outfit. Her boots the knee high and soft sided, they were highly decorated with pierced and cut work in tan and 2 tones of teal.
It was fine enough for her to wait to be last, it gave her a edge on knowing the others before they knew her.
So she bides her time until the others have introduced themselves.
Posted on 2007-09-08 at 01:20:50.
Looking around Logos had some trouble deciding why he was gathered here. He had heard the story of the Seldan, and listened with fascination. He had heard of these Nexus points, pools of mana, and searched for them himself. And now there was this story of a flood of magical energy. Why, if it flooded so freely, was he not capable of grasping what apparently came in overflowing streams, and bend it to his will?
He cast aside his angry questioning of fate. No deprecating ‘why’ or ‘how’ existed that he had not already shouted countless times. Answers never came.
Therefore he focused on what he had taught himself to rely on: the scientific facts of the tale. Something was terribly wrong in those lands, perhaps to teach them all a valuable lesson. The power of magic will be the downfall of fools. A powerful wizard doesn’t make a good leader. A mighty brain is more important than….
“Again…” he whispered to himself, as he mentally slapped himself for falling back into ranting away. Focus on the now. His struggle for clarity of mind was assisted to a win by a high voice filled with enthusiasm, inquiring its needs in a single breath. The gnome looked at the source of the annoying bulge of words. His expectations proved right, for it had been the youthful female, but luckily she had been stopped by her older sister. At least, he assumed it was her sister. They were standing too close to each other not be relatives or good friends. And they both seemed to have an unhealthy relation to gold. Logos found it hard to believe there wasn’t a pack of dwarves standing ready with pick-axes to mine them.
The sound of the doors opening behind them took his attention away from the girls. He turned, to see a man dressed in black doing his best to make a grand entry. The smaller sister piped out again, seemingly unable to keep quiet for a minute, but her remark was true this time, and well thought out, he had to admit. They invoked a series of introductions. Logos listened intently, for he wanted to know with who he was supposed to go into the Barrens. Judging their appearances, none of them looked ready for the part, and neither did he. Individually he was sure they had their capabilities, but they were no team. Had he left his shop in the care of his cousin for this?
The older sister had spoken her talents, and he knew his turn had come to introduce himself. He coughed and waved his hand in an uncomfortable salute.
“I am Logos Machina, I own a shop in Neduluma, where I sell my own inventions.” He stated with his deep voice. “I have no idea why I was selected to be here, but apparently somebody thought I was the right candidate.”
That was all he needed to say. Nothing else needed to be added. They would have plenty of time to get to know each other. He was just curious to see what would happen next.
Posted on 2007-09-08 at 13:38:26.
The Ivae were usually quite prompt with time keeping, and this elf in particular made sure she would be the first to arrive. Since she had been summoned from her house earlier in the week, she had the time to pack anything she would need for the trip. The woman moved with elegance in her royal gowns however, she decided to change her attire before attending the meeting. Having no idea who would attend the meetings, she decided to arrive earlier and that would give her time to mend to her things and to her bonds.
The morning of the meeting had arrived and the young elf was up and ready before the rise of the sun. Dressing herself as least casual as she could, for she was a dweller of the royal house, and wasn't sure if she wished any others to know of this matter. The gathering wasn't far from her home, though one might think it was for an hour before the sun would rise, she had her things packed and her bond brushed, and saddled.
Standing beside her Flemish, a soft smile spread along her lips as she double checked she had everything she would need. Dressed in her travelers robes, she mounted Thor, her reliable warhorse and whistled for her bond. The horse stood firmly in place until an order would be given, yet both horse and woman sat in complete silence until the brush in the distance rustled. Selene Freewaters urged her mount forth towards the brush and she smiled as she spoke softly "Storm, we leave now for the meeting." The few words spoken by the elf were carefully selected, and her voice compared to that of singing angels.
The light in the east told the elf she had at least an hour in which to cross the lands to arrive in Nedeluma. It would only take half that time, for she had a swift horse, and the company of her faithful bond Storm as well as Thor, to keep her moving swiftly through the early morn. The stars had recently been lost to the approaching morning, but the elf knew all too well of their destination, and she ventured there quite rapidly.
Upon arrival she allowed the stable boy to put her mount in the appropriate stable, and storm she left out of sight, for fear of upsetting the prince. She and the prince were on the same levels of royalty, for she was a noble by nature as he himself was. The elf had arrived early enough to wait in the room for the rest to arrive, so she could study their appearances, and what they brought as they entered the building.
Selene's crystal blue eyes shot across the room as she watched the group gather. Then the Prince entered the room and she bowed gently to the prince when she locked eyes with him. The Ivae were numerous in the gathering, but she didn't watch the group until the Prince had finished speaking. She smiled softly to her words, her body showing indifference to the mission. The way she held herself, the way she showed no sign of fear, people were sure to wonder if she had faced battle in the past. The woman listened to the anxious soundingly woman, who was likely the youngest of the group. She would be her biggest concern in a time of secrecy. She wondered if she'd be able to hold her tongue, and be quiet in a time of secrecy, or if her excitement would ruin their elements of surprise against the enemy. It was the the sister who spoke, and she listened to the words which had been spoken between siblings, as she continued to study her surroundings. The elf knew it wise to know the flaws and perks of which each member brought to the group. It would help to decide who should be giving the orders, who should be on watch, and who should be known as the secret weapon. Everyone would have their job in the group, as certain as wolves had their posts in the pack. Yet soundlessly she listened as introductions were made. She associated voice with appearances as each spoke in turn.
It was in this moment that Septimus had arrived and disrupted the meeting. The rest in the hall would notice the man and turn to observe him. She however, would remain reserved and her gaze only fall upon the man when he spoke. She, again, associated voice to appearance. When she listened to the names she nodded slightly and when the turn was hers to speak she was cautious in choosing her words. She could easily have spoken in elvish, for the amount of elves in the group surprised her, but out of respect she chose to answer in common tongue.
"Selene Freewaters, I'm here to offer my skills to the group" she bowed upon introducing herself. The woman was not specific as to which skills she could offer to the group gathered in the hall soon to be cast out upon their mission. The woman was tempted to not reveal her name in the least, for the Ivae elves would know her name, and knew she was royalty, but she didn't want to be treated as royalty unless it was appropriate to be treated as so.
Her royal robes remained in the bundle which was upon the exotic riders saddle which was strapped to her reliable bond Thor. Soundlessly she remained in place studying each person in turn but then turning her gaze up to the prince. "Mi Lord Seldan, you wish us to venture out as a group, yet you tell us not when you wish us to depart. How long is given to us to learn of our companions, as to know the strengths and flaws of our group in order to have a successful mission." she spoke to the prince as easily as if they were discussing the morning's fine weather. The business would be difficult to discuss and she spoke softly "Our business is to be kept to the group alone, if I'm not mistaken, we wish not the world to know of our plan, for that could ruin the element of surprise for what we must face upon this journey, and also to perhaps give others time to form an army against him." she shrugged away the rest of her words, yet her eyes had never left those of the prince.
It was in this moment, that she turned to the man who had arrived late, and she smiled to him "I'll brief you of this matter, when the time has come. If we do not leave immediately, we can find a tavern, to where we could all learn of each other, and perhaps form a plan, however if we must leave instantaneously than I'll brief you on the ride." she fell silent to draw in another breath "Do you have a method of transportation Sir?" it would be noticed that she called the Prince by Mi Lord, and others by Sir. The soft smile formed at her lips was towards the late arrival, but she turned back towards the prince as she waited for his reply. Her longsword as her side, and her gloved hands ready to reach for it, were the need to arise.
"A tavern you say," pipes up Zara listening to the female Ivae speak after the interesting little gnome, "now that sounds fun, but discussing this venture there is a baaaad idea; too many people, too many ears, no security, no privacy."
Zara eyes the young elf who seemed dressed for the part on a level higher than all the rest of them. A female peacock? Her attire did nothing to disguise her inborn demeanor.
"Anyway, I believe you are overdressed for that sort of place."
Posted on 2007-09-08 at 15:49:12.
Edited on 2007-09-08 at 16:00:52 by Dragon Mistress
A faint smirk touched his lips as he carelessly brushed back his tangled hair. He was youth personified, wild and reckless as a young stallion, and distinctly set apart from the other males in the congregation. He sauntered over to the nearest seat available, his limbs shifting with elegant, untaught grace and surveyed his surroundings with appreciation.
His were eyes that could read a bent twig or severed blade of grass, and tell a starling from a sparrow at a hundred paces off. Nothing escaped the emerald scanning as his compelling gaze swept rapidly over each visage. The gears of his mind were already beginning to shift and record vital information.
As the green- golden eyes of the renegade fell upon the fair features of the Ivae women, the hard and predatory glint softened ever so slightly and the set of his shoulders relaxed. The slight curve of his lip heightened into what could safely be called a smile, and he settled back into his chair with an appalling affectation of nonchalance, satisfied with the evaluation.
Each of the travelers seemed to be dressed in finery and the dark, bloodstained apparel of the rogue set him in deep contrast. Dried blood was smeared across his left cheek, as if he had just came from a particularly perilous situation, and the piteous thinness of the man could be evaluated.
He looked half-starved, in this better light, and the lines of his face were terribly defined, promoting his already naturally refined features.
He looked dangerous, and the glacial expression in those beautiful eyes momentarily covered up the destructive and aching sadness that dwelt below the surface, like a monster from the deep.
But most of all he looked terribly young, and terribly lost, and the seal of weariness could be seen in the light etchings of stress upon his brow and the clear mark of suffering within his eyes.
He listened to the words of the prince listlessly, without expressing any emotion about whether he considered the mission a valid idea or not. As the introductions of the others tapered off into babble he finally lifted his head, unhappy to be thrust into the spotlight. “Oh brilliant, I have to talk about myself now, don’t I?” he muttered to no one in particular. After glancing about uncomfortably for a few moments, at long last he forced himself to make eye contact and proceeded to speak.
“I am Captain Septimus Sandalwood”, he informed them softly.“I am not classically trained in the art of offering myself up for the benefit of mankind, but I am sure that you can all find something useful for me to do”. He inclined his head faintly in the prince’s direction.
“You seem to have a talent in that particular field, do you not?”
A few of the omnipresent servants shifted uncomfortably.
Septimus`s gaze shifted.
They knew what he was.
The silence was broken by the melodious speech of one of the female elves, the one with the faintly royal aura. With a final malevolent glance in the direction of the prince, Septimus reluctantly turned his attention to her.
When Selene was finished speaking, he nodded curtly, the faintest smile touching his lips, invisible to the casual observer. It took all his self-control to keep from grinning like a fool. His main means of transportation was legendary, and even though he remained self-contained, his heart swelled with pride to think of the Acheron with her crimson sails blazing in the sun. “I do”, he replied indifferently then, and rapidly changed the subject.
“You are very kind”, he replied quietly, his eyes holding a light twinkle of amusement, “and I thank you for the thought of your help.”
He averted his gaze momentarily.
“However, it will not be entirely necessary…”
He shrugged his slender shoulders.
“I know what I am getting myself into”.
His eyes delved into hers.
“The question is, do you?”
Posted on 2007-09-09 at 01:05:08.
Edited on 2007-09-09 at 18:42:13 by Septimus Sandalwood
Zara shifts in her chair looking about to see if everyone has introduced themselves, she is holding out to be last.
She watches the byplay between Septimus and the royal Ivae, studying it. And deeper than that was her observations of Septimus himself. His aura was a terrible muddle of darks and dims, luckily it was not much muddied. She could only wonder as to what brought him to this state, physically and spiritually.
He paid rapt attention to every word of the history of the forming of the barrens that came from the Ivae prince's mouth. It was sad what others could bring themselves to do to one another and all over something that was not rightly theirs to begin with. If it was meant for them to have magic, then the gods would have blessed them with it like they had the dragons. Magic pulled from the pools of mana, the basic essence of life in his opinion, could not truly be controlled and was bound to have its consequences.
Magic born from the spark within, that was another story entirely. Vesper's magic was his own, not 'borrowed' from the world around him. This was who he was born to be, not because he had decided that he should be better than others and steal his way to get there. No, the gods had just made him better, had given him the spark that ignited his soul to wield magic. The borrowed magic allowed others to wield a larger variety of power, as such the Ivae had taught him, but the spark of sorcery had its own power that most thought too poorly of.
He had listened to their pitter=patter long enough. Vesper rose to his feet with a little difficulty as pain rippled through his right leg. The magus swore that the athritis from his childhood accident was determined to get the best of him, but after a decade and a half, he had grown much used to it The wound would slow him down a tad, but if these others wished for his aid, then they would have to learn to keep pace with his stride.
Robes of a faded red color, wool with its dye having bled out from age, hid his other clothing for the most part. Most believed wrongly of him from his appearance, saying that he appeared the part of a haggard commoner with a bit of an exotic appearance. Of course he looked different, all of those from the steppes did with their darker skin along with dark hair and dark eyes. Some even went as far to call them savages, but atleast among his people he did not have to worry about the deceit and treachery that seemed to spread like a wildfire among the other kingdoms of man.
Vesper use his staff for a slight bit of support as he stood, "If none of us have anything further to say. We might as well set ourselves upon the road."
The royal Ivae smiled softly as she had listened to the sounds of her surroundings. Calmly she turned her gaze towards the woman Zara who had spoken to her about the tavern. The woman could not help but hide her smile "You think I would venture unknowingly into a tavern dressed in royal robes?" she could not help but laugh softly, kindly. She shook her head at the woman's innocence "I've got a bindle of assorted garments from royal robes to pheasant robes. I've dwelled in taverns longer than you could imagine. Though it was frowned upon, my elders knew they could not contain my curiosity." she decided that it was all that needed to be told to Zara, and the rest of the group at such an early meeting.
It was in that moment that Septimus had began to speak. She listened calmly and carefully to the man's words and a smile formed upon her soft lips. With his second verse of words, she caught the amusement in his gaze and her smile widened as she continued to listen to his words. She replied to the first half of his words, which seemed to have been carefully selected. Her words flowed with ease with little thought behind them "I thank thee kindly Lord Sandalwood. I apologize if I have offended you." she paused only long enough to hear his final words. The woman's smile had vanished when she had began speaking the final words "I know probably more than any of you of this mission, for I've known about it for a while. It's been a known mission for which I was to participate, and to advance my magic and swordsmanship. It's part of my final stages of training." she fell silent as her gaze flickered from the man to whom she found great interest.
Selene's eyes floated towards the door wondering when it would burst open and again she would be known as a ward. She waited patiently for the door to open, creaking in protest, yet it never seemed to open, and she simply shook her head softly. The woman spoke to the man without catching his gaze, "Lord Sandalwood, I would ask for your devoted company to dinner, were we to have time before we must part upon the mission. I would be honoured by your company, should be have time to speak in private. She falls silent as she listens for a reply from the woman Zara, who seems too eager for her own good, and also from the malnourished man Septimus.
It was in that moment the man Vesper had drawn her attention with his voiced opinion. She agreed with the mans words after carefully drawing them in. With a subtle nod she turned to the rest "He's right, we should start our journey before we waste any moment longer." she turned to the prince "unless My dear lord Seldan, you've anything else you wish to tell us before we set off upon our mission." she falls silent her hair glistened slightly upon the widely lit room in which they had been gathered.
Zara makes a face at some of the royal Selene’s introduction; first was the bit about, "I know probably more than any of you of this mission, for I've known about it for a while. It's been a known mission for which I was to participate, and to advance my magic and swordsmanship. It's part of my final stages of training."
Well, La De Da, she knew about it long ago, which meant, by now, it was not much of a secret. The more people that know a secret the less it is a secret.
Then the royal Ivae had the audacity to put herself before everyone else. "Lord Sandalwood, I would ask for your devoted company to dinner, were we to have time before we must part upon the mission. I would be honored by your company, should we have time to speak in private.”
That was a real friendly slap in the face to everyone else.
And what was this “devoted company.” Was he supposed to fawn on her? He did not seem the type.
Oh, well it was time to introduce herself. She was sure the Prince knew nothing of her since it was only Dalyndra whom he had contacted. She stood and prepared to make her introduction, but try as she might she could not help commenting on what Selene had said about the tavern and other things.
She caught Selene’s eye and then spoke. “Maturity is not measured by age, but by experience and the wisdom that comes with it,” piped Zara, quoting her oh, so wise mother. “I may not have the experiences you have had, my mother likes to live apart from others, but there are some experiences I have had that you will never have.” That said she turned her back on the royal Ivae.
“My name is Zara....Goldenwings, Dae and I share the same father. I know I am the youngest here, and also uninvited, but I bring with me multiplicity of talents. I can use sword and bow as well as any Ivae and furthermore I can cast Sorcery spells, coming into my ability very young in life, and I can cast Divine spells, being Favored by The Light, as is Dae.
“I am also literate in many languages, my mother taught them to me, she said it was better to converse with others in their own tongues, that way there was less chance of misunderstanding, or of being misunderstood.
I love astronomy, and am a learned student of the stars and planets. I used to spend entire nights observing them, mother had to drag me back home to get sleep. Over the years I have developed a way to knowing the local time, at night, and even estimate where I am by the position of the stars in the heavens. Knowledge of any kind is a passion of mine, and I have spent much time in reading the great tomes of the past, and I have a knack of remembering everything I have read or seen. Which also helps in geography, and map reading and that coupled my innate ability to know where I am, could be really useful for this venture. AS I am an avid collector of books I would also be searching for any books, tomes and scrolls as I already have an extensive collection of some very rare tomes.
“Beyond these skills and abilities I can cook, thanks to Dae’s mother, and play a harp, and sew. I did the embroidery on our clothes, but I can just as well sew up rents and tears in clothes, equipment, or skin. I have some healing skills and of course healing spells.”
Zara abruptly ends her speech leaving others wondering if she ever took a breath between the beginning and the end of her soliloquy--which demonstrated an extraordinary control of breath.
That said she sat down and reached into her haversack on her side and drew out a handkerchief, she reached to the table for a glass and a pitcher of water and poured some into the glass. She sipped a bit of the water and then wet the handkerchief with the rest of the water.
She watches the Prince carefully, he might forbid her to go, not that that would really stop her, after she had come all this way.
“Why don’t the rest of us go off to a tavern and just get better acquainted.” By which she meant that the rest of them not invited to dinner, could get together over a pleasant meal. She had never been in a real tavern.
Posted on 2007-09-10 at 02:10:47.
Edited on 2007-09-10 at 06:30:27 by Dragon Mistress
Baleful eyes flickered uneasily from face to face, his body held tense, with an air of aggression. The confrontation unsettled him deeply and a flush of high colour touched the normally alabaster canvas of his cheeks. It was when he transferred his energy from brooding to edgy and suspicious that he was considered most dangerous. Septimus was already well known to be notoriously moody, and many men had not had the opportunity to be surprised or awed at the deadly mood swings and even more lethal reflexes that had categorized him as one of the most unpredictable Sea Reavers ever to be seen on land or sea.
His gloved hand had transferred to the hilt of his weapon without thought, only to relax instantly.
It was because of this unpredictability that songs were sung of him by bards, who antagonized him against a favoured hero of old, and rumours of him were transferred from port city to city. It was because of this fearful unfathomness, viewed with the kind of fascination that is often given to disasters of nature that mothers told horror stories of him to their wide eyed youngsters, and when ill-tempered children fought with their siblings or argued with their parents, it was his name the adults evoked as a warning. He was emulated by children, feared by men, and desired by women. He was a legend of his own time.
He was absolutely miserable.
He seemed restless within his own skin, and uncomfortable with the fact that he was taking the time to speak with a person of the female persuasion. Females were not allowed on the ship Septimus commanded, and the few smuggled on board had been killed instantly. The goddess of the sea was fickle and jealous, and the competition of another female was not to be tolerated. Rather then tempt fate; the few females that had managed to avoid his watchful eye had been slaughtered quickly and efficiently by his crew. There was no room for disaster aboard the Acheron, and there was little to no tolerance for blasphemy. The only other experiences he had had with women had been the relatively impersonal sessions in taverns and inns, for Septimus had loved once, and vowed never to love another.
A less cautious woman could have conceivably been attracted to him, and this incident had happened on several occasions, when a bar maid or travelers became taken with his youth. His waifish figure, sad eyes, dark curls, and way with children endeared him to certain women. It was true; there were times when he appeared more the part of a poor little orphan boy then a wanted criminal, which had served him to advantage time and time again.
Like many criminals, he had a renowned place in the hierarchy of the underworld. But unlike most criminals, he was extremely intelligent, and this was probably the main reason he was still alive. Among his own crew he naturally assumed the position of leader, and ruled his men with an iron rod. Because of his particular talents, he often did most of the intellectual work, and while he did not have an entirely unearned reputation for doom and destruction, he carried out violence reluctantly. While atypical for a pirate, he had an unknown side that was oddly altruistic, and saving another person at the risk of his own safety was not an unknown occurrence, particularly if that person was a child. In battle he was reserved, killing when necessary with a mixture of deadly, complicated moves that put to use his considerable agility. It was noted that the destruction of the Golden Falcon, the previous flagship of one Glenn Fenris, marked the beginning of Septimus`s distain for violence.
Many legends had been told of that day, when the noble frigate was torn asunder by the flagship Sea Wolf. A hundred men strong had set out that day on a path for plunder. Eight men returned, Septimus among them. It was a cold day, a red day, a day when sharks swarmed and the seas turned crimson. When the rogue was checked into an inn in Corelan, carried upon the shoulders of an injured sailor, he was barely conscious. Eyewitnesses had reported that the youth had been shot twice, the bullets narrowly missing his heart.
Involuntarily Septimus felt his hand brush over the left side of his chest. Two half-healed scars marked the smooth skin below his flimsy fencing shirt. He closed his eyes for a moment and recalled.
Withdrawn, he had leaned against the doorframe of their tiny cottage, watching his daughter play with her mother while his infant son Luka slept peacefully in a makeshift crib. He marveled at the likeness between them. His daughter Rose had been slim like her mother, and beautiful, with pale skin, rosy cheeks and lips, and shining blonde hair. But her eyes had been Septimus`s own, exactly like his had been before the tragedy, a golden-emerald that was strangely feral, alive and laughing. He had called her to him and held her to his breast. A tear had fallen and marked her faded cobalt dress. The girl looked up at her father and smiled into his face, and watched with wonder his wild eyes. “Why are you crying, Daddy?” she asked in her child’s treble. He could only close his eyes as she lowered her soft golden head against his dark, snarled one.
“You must promise never to leave me”, he whispered hoarsely.
“I promise”, she whispered back, pressing the necklace into his palm.
He found her body on a cold Monday morning, just when the mists parted and the rooster crowed and he staggered home, distorted visions through a haze of tears plaguing him. Tormented by physical agony and worry he threw open the door of the cottage and stared into the darkness. His world was darkness. There could be no more light.
Mother and daughter and infant son.
He covered his face with his hands and wept.
That had been three years ago.
Three years since he had adopted the sea as his mistress, the murderous, bloodthirsty wench who sailors adore. She abused him for three years, offering him happiness, but snatching it away in her cruel, guileless hands. She tormented him with loneliness and drove him close to the brink of insanity. But like an innocent child returning to its abusive parent, Septimus always returned to her as she poisoned his mind slowly and deftly, he loved her and his corroded heart was hers. For he did love her. More then he loved life itself.
The words of Selene seemed insubstantial to him, and though he met her gaze, he did not see her. A bitter laugh threatened to burst free of its tentative boundaries. “You know me”, he whispered roughly to her. “You know me and yet you are not frightened?” His tone was more curious then challenging as he fixed her with an apprehensive eye. His voice was barely auditable as he continued. “I walk among them only because they do not know of me”, he murmured. His mouth twitched into a semblance of a smile.
“It shall be our little secret, yes?”
Raising his voice so that the others could hear, he hazarded a reply. “I am flattered”, he said finally. “You are a lovely woman and I am sure that many men so invited would jump at the chance”. His voice registered amusement, like silver threaded through velvet.
“However, I am cursed with a rather cynical and analytical mind”. He winked towards Zara as if to show support for her cause before devoting his attention once again to the royal Ivae. “I fail to see how the evaluation of a sole member of the group would prove to be beneficial”. His eyes never left Selene`s. “I accept, provided that the other, more involved members of our little, ahem, congregation, may join me”.
“Also, there is no need to speak so formally”, he added quietly. “I am not, nor will I ever be worthy of that title”.
Although his voice betrayed little emotion, his haunting and haunted eyes betrayed the reverberating sadness that would continue to torment him throughout his life.
“I am Septimus”, he said softly.
Posted on 2007-09-10 at 22:24:44.
Edited on 2007-09-10 at 22:50:56 by Septimus Sandalwood
The Royal Ivae glanced about the room towards the rest of the group. Her eyes shot towards the man as she listened carefully to his whispers directed solely to her. The woman turned her gaze towards Zara who had spoken fiercely towards her. The woman showed no emotion as she replied dryly to the woman's words. Shaking her head slightly she replied "In which case, I'll go tend to my bonds" she had spoken sourly, she did not like this woman Zara's attitude. Shaking her head she bowed to the prince and turned back the way she had entered so long ago.
The woman had ignored all words directed to her after such a point. She exited with the same elegance that had filled her throughout her entire adventure thus far. Sighing softly she decided to move briskly to the barn where her mount had been brought to feed. Selene smiled warmly as she bit her lower lip gently seeing Thor. Nodding softly to her mount she opened the stall and saddled her horse for the trip, after brushing him. Saddled, and ready to go, she moved her mount out of the barn and towards the nearby brush where she knew Storm would be waiting patiently for her to emerge. Soundlessly she stepped gracefully towards the beautiful wolf who waited for her arrival. She allowed Thor to graze in the grass as she kept Storm company in the shade of the nearby brush.
The air was cool and refreshing. The pair in which she shared company, would quickly drain away her anger and stress. Selene decided she would need a way to keep from snapping at the woman Zara who seemed eager to reveal her entire life history as an introduction. It seems as if she needed some sort of congratulations for her past. The Royal Ivae knew better than to reveal her entire history to strangers. Her father had taught her much of how the world worked. It was in this moment she recalled the bounty on Septimus's head, her father had always been speaking to councilors about the treacherous man. His past flooded her thoughts as she ran a hand through the pelt of the wild wolf.
Nostrils flare and dialate drinking the scents of his surroundings. Twin peaks swivel upon crania as maw parts as a large pink tongue lolls out lazily. The young brute listens carefully as the door creaked open and seemed to shut rather loudly without actually being slammed shut. Pillars shift slightly as muscles grow tense and relax the brute crawling slightly to peer towards the building in which his mistress had disappeared. Occulis close as crania lifts from it's normal position nasils flare rapidly and dilates as he drinks in the familiar scent of his mistress, Selene. Vocals vibrate slightly as maw parts and a soft yip is released as the brute pants softly after having released his greeting to the woman.
When she joined him, crania lowers to rest upon her lap. Occulis closed as twin peaks swivel upon mount listening protectively for strange sounds, always being protective of the woman who had saved him so long ago. Storm knew better than to chase after Thor, for he understood that the horse was also a friend of his mistress.
Two others leave, after Selene without giving an introduction, but each nods to the Prince and leaves quietly. After they leave the Prince takes a leather scroll case from beside him and places it on his great desk seemingly carved from a single burl of walnut and polished to a high luster.
"Here are such maps as I could gather; some of them come from a time before the Barrens were overrun by men and their magics. There are also a number of reports I had gathered from our libraries which pertain to the Barrens before and after the Mage Wars."
"I hope they will be of some help to you."
He holds out the case and Zara quickly moves to take it. "I am good with maps," she says brightly.
"Also I have procured horses for those who have none and pack mules for the supplies. I have had gathered what you will need for a 3 month journey. Because of the length of your journey I have loaned you two large bags of Stasis and Holding, they hold the perishable foods. I do not know if you can sustain yourselves on what food animals and plants live in the Barrens."
"My steward will meet you tomorrow at the Gilded Cauldron, I have reserved rooms there for you. He will take you to where you will receive your mounts and supplies. There will be a few extra mounts, but they may be needed if any of the mounts is injured or killed."
"I wish you all Safe Journey, and will pray that The Light shines upon you as you venture forth.”
The Prince takes his leave of you, going out a side door.
A footman, dressed in street clothes and not livery, then comes forward, “I am to lead you to the Gilded Cauldron.”
With that said he turns and heads to the door where each of you entered and then down a long hall back to the front door.
(Moderator OOC: Please add anything you think might enhance the scenario and what you do afterwards, comments on the ambiance of the Prince’s home, thoughts about---whatever, and any interactions with the PCs or NPCs.)
Posted on 2007-09-12 at 04:06:46.
Edited on 2007-09-12 at 04:09:45 by Dragon Mistress
Selene had elegantly taken her leave and once again, Septimus found himself in a void of perfect and total silence. The great roughly-hewn doors swung open just long enough by the light touch of her hand so that he could see the thin rivulets of silver that cascaded upon the primitive canvas of cobblestones, after being violently torn from their fellows and dashed mercilessly against the ground. A faint whinny wafted up through the deepening rain and the bark of some street mongrel sounded a haunting monotonous sound that only added to the desolate air of the scene.
He had paused in his restless pacing to stare wonderingly at the moon that hovered against a sea of black like some monstrous pearl or malignant growth. There was no beauty in the night for him when the stalking of shadows covered all that he knew and cast him into uncharted waters, desperately struggling to keep his head above the rising waters of uncertain phenomena, a phenomena that was not much helped by the persistent gnawing of a new emotion gnawing away at the surface of his brain.
He had a neurotic twitch at the thought. He had done nothing wrong. He had just…humiliated a perfectly respectable woman in front of her future comrades while in the process of disrespecting royalty and showing extreme disregard for their mission. His brow furrowed as he considered the implications of his actions. Finally he simply shrugged off the strange emotion that was the first symptom of interest, which sometimes led to something very unpleasant indeed. There was, he knew, a well-known but often misunderstood humiliation known as love that normal functioning members of a society enjoyed partaking in as early as possible. The goal of this humiliation was to find a reasonably nice female, create a family, and spend the rest of your life in contentment and bliss, with a pipe in your hand and a well-read book by your side. However, Septimus knew that it often never worked out that way. Love was often a messy and ultimately dangerous affair, and he considered it wiser to avoid it whenever possible.
He felt quite indifferent, he restated to himself firmly, and offered a horrible parody of a smile to show just how indifferent he was. Silently, and with a final baleful glare in the direction of the prince, he padded noiselessly to the ajar door like some great forbidding panther. He gazed over his shoulder for a moment, lingering as if uncertain. Then, without a second glance, he raised the deep hood over his head and was gone.
For a long time he stood, head bowed, listening to the rain.
The wordless melodies whispered.
It is said that when one surrenders one’s heart to the ocean, it cannot be reclaimed.
That those who dwell in darkness must shy from the sun.
Septimus felt curiously affected, he could not tell why. There was something in the night's delicate loveliness that seemed to him inexpressibly pathetic, and he thought of all the days that break in beauty, and that set in storm. Through the eyes of a stranger he gazed upon the skeletal buildings that rose unsteadily, seemly right from the earth like misshapen mushrooms, or the fallen and blasphemed frames of dismembered dragons. He gazed at the guideless horizon, his cartographer and lover, where the slightest tinge of grey was beginning to tease the edge of the firmament.
He moved soundlessly towards shelter, feeling strangely vulnerable as he shook his head to dispel the rainwater once he had entered the safe confines of the barn. He approached the stallion that nonchalantly tossed his mane and beheld his master with an uninterested eye. Septimus`s hand found the sloping warmth of the animal’s shoulder. His coat was matted and riddled with burrs, and the thin composition and appearance of the animal eerily echoed the aura of his master. Gently, the rogue picked the rough plant-life from the stallion’s pelt and saddled him for the journey. Unexplained tears fell, dotting the smooth blackness.
The threat of death.
These warriors, too, with their rough, good-humoured voices, and their nonchalant ways, what a strange world they must have seen! Confident, all of them, fearless of what lay ahead. A world free from the sin of night and the smoke of day, a pallid, ghost-like planet, a desolate town of tombs! He wondered what they thought of it, and whether they knew anything of its splendour and its shame, of its fierce, fiery-coloured joys, and its horrible hunger, of all it makes and mars from morn to eve. He wondered if they recalled the sufferings, if they bore it as well, as he did, in his own darkened heart.
His entire body began trembling and he bit down on his own gloved hand to keep from crying out. The pain was excruciating but it fought back the tears that constantly threatened to flood their boundaries. He fled the warmth of the barn into the pouring rain where his sorrow could not be detected. He stumbled in his haste and fell to his knees. He could hear his own scabrous mind, his thoughts dark and instinctual and insane with grief. He thought only of blood and pain and cruising in blind darkness. He shuddered and covered his face with his hands, tears streaming down his visage. The thought of loneliness, the rugose, alien crawl of his dreams and nightmares was maddening, not to be borne.
He was alone.
Rain and tears mingled as they trickled down his cheeks as his hands groped blindly in the darkest for that one saving grace, the childishly woven necklace that was balm for his spirit, warm with insanity.
The world was nothing.
The world was dying, strangled by its ardor.
He wept for it.
Nothing more then that, rising from the ashes.
Posted on 2007-09-13 at 21:25:16.
Edited on 2007-09-13 at 21:28:14 by Septimus Sandalwood
Zara followed soundlessly as Septimus left the manner and headed to the stable.
Zara watched him carefully, as the raindrops clung to his cloak like hundreds of glittering stars. She could see him perfecting, the changes in his breating and the rigor of his body were all indications of his emotional state.
He was alone and without his ship Despair rippled just under his surface like the great waves of a stormy sea. She let him stand there in the darkness waiting for the right moment to intervene. When he finally removed his hand from his mouth and took hold of something around his neck, he suddenly relaxed.
She called up a small globe of starlight to let him know someone was there. "Your left before I could get to you," Zara walked forward and then lifted the ball of light and let it go so that if hovered off her left shoulder.
In her right hand was the handkerchief. "Seems like I did not have to wet it in the glass," referring to the rain as she stepped up to him and moved it up to his face. "May I remove the blood from your face, and then see if you need healing. There are some wounds I can heal." Hers was a cvomment that suggested more than it said as if she knew he had wounds that would not be healed with her healing spells.
"You might want to clean up before coming to the Golden Cauldron. We are all meetong there. I embroidered that myself. You can keep it." again it was a rush of words, however hurried and disjointed they sounded; they also made sense.
Curious she look to where his hand had gone. Under his hand was some sort of necklace. It was the thing he reached for just before he finally relaxed a bit. Not that he was one to ever let down his guard, he was a bow strung and drawn to its maxium and almost beyond.
"You will see me safely there, won't you?" Zara whispered softly
Posted on 2007-09-14 at 01:01:57.
Edited on 2007-09-14 at 01:49:57 by Dragon Mistress
Dalyndra seeing the look on Zara’s face held out a hand and stopped her as Zara started to leave quickly with the maps. It was a looks she knew well Zara was out headed somewhere else. “I will take those for now.” Dalyndra said as she tool the maps and reports form Zara’s hands “We will all go over them.” She then adds, “Don't be long”.
That she didn’t ask where the teenager was off to, was a matter of experience that Dalyndra had gain over the years since the young girl had come into the care of Salyndra’s. In vain would Dalyndra ask her why she did the things she did. Oh, Zara would always answer but her reasons and explanations did little for Dalyndra sense of what Zara should do--and most times Zara just did what she had originally planned anyway, regardless of Dalyndra’s reasoning it out with Zara. So now she did not try to stop her unless she felt Zara was in danger. She didn sense danger as she reached out to touch that vague empaty she had with Zara.
As young as Zara was she could not be dictated to. Sometimes reasoning would prevail sometimes, many time is was a waste of breath. Still Dalyndra continued her efforts to instill some reason and clear thinking in the mercurial teen.
Dalyndra follow the courier in plain drss swing her cloak about her and pulling up the hood when when she walked out into the rain. a few adjustments and she was ready for the inn. She let her senses reach out into the night, watching and listening to her surroundings. Dalyndra kept herself alert and ready. This was as strange group of as she had ever been part of and certainly a long way from a smooth working team.
"Light, may we learn to work together to fulfill this mission." I will keep an open mind and will be tolerant of others—sometimes though you know I falter. Help be not to be to ridig in my ways. I can tell now that many of this group will not respond well to punching. Some have been pushed to hard already, some have not be pushed enough and do not take kindly to it.” Dalyndra smiles since she know full well Zara did not take to being pushed anywhere or when she did not want to be.
The dark man Septimus wore his whole demeanor and bloody clothes like a shield about him to keep other away, and in her own way the Royal Ivae wore a shield of her aloof mobility that was equally impenetrable as the man’s.
She could only hope that the trip there would bring out their best and they would function better together. Right now they were widely disparate parts.
Their secrets could foul up the mission before they had really begun. “Light help them, and help me to help them.”
Though his eyes were blurred mercifully by tears, his hearing and reflexes were as honed as ever. Though they were soft, hardly auditable, the slight sounds of footsteps stood out harshly from the indifference of the night. A glimmer of light was seen out of the corner of his eye. He acted without thought. In the time it had taken the adolescent Zara to announce her presence he had leapt to his feet, and moving in a single, fluid motion drew his cutlass. The steel glimmered wickedly, outlined by darkness so that it glinted like a malicious smile. His own eyes, wild-looking and glacial bored into her with a hypnotising intensity.
They were not the eyes of a sane man.
Of course, it is a widely known point of etiquette that it is never a good idea to approach someone suddenly, and with Septimus that rule could not be stressed enough. He was not a wicked man, but his instincts were often stronger then thoughts in time of threat, and it was no more a good idea to approach him in his grief then it was to assault a sleeping leopard. The single thing that had saved the girl’s life had been her split second warning, and he glanced casually at it now, a perfect circle of light that hovered nonchalantly over her shoulder like a lethargic will o the wisp. His eyes fell to her hand and its contents and at her words, the madness in his eyes quelled and just as quickly, he sheathed his weapon.
She moved closer and he shied away from her, unused to the close proximity. His movements were slightly clumsier then they had been in the summer home and his body posture spoke of defeat. The Prince’s agreement, his life for his cooperation in the project, did not entirely keep him from harm. Beneath the loose flowing fencing shirt deep cuts and scratches marked his torso from the desperate escape he recently had had to execute to attend the meeting, some actively bleeding, crossing over healed bullet scars and sculpted sword-slashes, dancing over stacked pronounced ribs.
His wasted body told a story of desperation.
At her inquiry he watched her wordlessly through half-frightened eyes as the rain kept pouring mercilessly, plastering his tangled dark hair to his brow. She spoke hurriedly, but he listened and in an odd moment of courtesy took the handkerchief from her hand. More to put her mind at ease he scrubbed roughly at the drying maroon marks and when his face was free of the sinister markings, his eyes shot up to her, as if for approval, their expression softening only when she spoke again.
Silently he watched as the rain rushed down on the small square of cloth. He watched the pinkish water that resulted drip and swirl upon the cobblestones like geometric rose petals. Feeling eyes on him again he glanced up to her sharply, and in the faint light from the moon he was terribly thin, his facial bones standing against the skin like chips of granite. No creature should be able to look like that and remain alive. It was a face of a man who had suffered terrible hardships, a man that had lived in hard times and were certain they were not about to get any better.
His hand fell listlessly from the childishly woven necklace and tears formed again in his eyes, hidden mercifully from the relentless rain. Darkness and shadows caressed the edges of his mind. He looked into her eyes, and a deep sadness was there, obvious and agonised and his hand rose to clutch the necklace again.” Rose”, he whispered hoarsely, once, and like any creature under such intense physical and emotional torture, his eyes slipped closed and he collapsed, his body refusing to tolerate its weakness. His unconscious form hit the cobblestones with a merciless jolt and the yarn necklace broke as consciousness left him. It slipped out of his limp hand, and fell, a single line of crimson in the vapid blackness.
Posted on 2007-09-14 at 20:21:56.
Edited on 2007-09-14 at 20:38:07 by Septimus Sandalwood
Zara stayed perfectly still as Septimus turned like a cobra ready to strike, Unlike a normal teen who would screamed and tried to run from the insanity in his eyes, Zara held his stare, “Sorry, I should have called out.” She knew she realized she had underestimated him, something she would not do again.
They were not the eyes of a sane man. He looked to the light, then down at the handkerchief in her hands. With the moon shining in her eyes he missed their strangeness as she look at him as he sheathed his cutlass.
She moved up to wipe away the blood on his face, but he shied like a skittish colt. Zara spoke again is simple clear words that she hoped he could comprehend in his mental state. Rain pelted on both of them as he took the handkerchief and began to scrub the blood off his face. She just watched and waited until he could recover some of his sanity. She knew there was more to what she saw of his battered condition, and felt what she could not see.
What inner demons had brought him to this state? She sighed silently knowing she could in the instant do nothing to heal that, but she could heal his body.
Septimus dropped his hand from the childishly woven necklace his fingers closing around it. Eyes that could pierced the rain and the dark saw the pirate’s irises draw in, He looked at Zara as it her were looking a someone else, then reached up to necklace and hoarsely whispers a single name.
“Rose.” That one name carried with it the agonizing despair that she had sensed earlier.
With his hand fell from his throat as he folded up like a spent life form ready to give up its existence and yet, he would not.
With a speed that would have surprised some, she jumped to keep his head from hitting the cobblestones, there was no need for more injury, or loss of blood. Zara knelt beside him and turned her eyes to the heavens. “Light, one of yours is in need, Please lend me healing grace.”
Almost immediately Zara felt the power enter her, and a much as she reveled in it she knew it was for another, and with that she spread her hands over his body and they began to glow with divine power. She slowly moved her hands from his head to his toes. The Light died as she brought them back into her lap. Her head was now bent to honor the Giver of Healing. As much as she had wanted to be able to heal him of his inner wounds, she knew that it could be only done by him. That was what the Light was all about, choices. The Light did not pre-ordained as followers of other deities claimed, the Light was the Beginning, but the ending was the outcome of each entity’s choices.
As she waited to wake him she noticed the necklace that had slipped for his nerveless fingers. Gentle she picked it up and looked at it. She was right, this was the creation of a child, a girl child, the name she heard fit. Holding it in her hand she allowed the necklace to speak to her of what it had been through, she went back its very beginning when hands full of love, and admiration had crafted it, and the vivaciousness of the young girl was so intense, as was her love for her father, for whom she had made it. Then came the bitter pain and despairing sorrow, so intense that Zara could not keep back the tears that came with the sight of Septimus looking down of the bodies of his lovely wife and child. Zara slowly moved back along the time line of the necklace. How many time had that necklace been clasped in his rugged hand and the loving name of his beautiful daughter was spoken in hushed whispers. She saw and heard things she never wanted to see or hear again, and she quickly set them apart from her conscious thoughts. Choices made from the day his family had been discovered dead had brought him to this moment and his one saving grace was the necklace.
Almost without thought the necklace was mended and she carefully slipped it back over Septimus’s head. Zara’s tears still flowed, warm drops falling on his face along with the cool raindrops. As she did a ray of moonlight pierced the clouds and fell on his head and face, there a bright streak caught her eye. It looked like a jagged streak of lightning starting at his right temple, but was only lock of white hair coiled among the wet tendrils of his jet black hair. She had probably missed seeing it under the hood he wore, and now that the hood had fallen off as he lay on the cobbles, the streak was revealed.
So this was it then. He had never thought of his own death. Life and death were equally far from him. The veils and threads of darkness enveloped him, caressed him, bringing him to realisation. Thereafter, in the end, the sturdy flesh of Men proves frail, fated for failure. His heart mourned only that forevermore would he be rejected by his People, so that when the shadows fall, and all that is left is dreaming, he would stand on the shore, watching the gulls laugh in the bright silvery splendour against a honey-coloured sky. The tapered prows would pass him as all that he knew would depart into thread and shadow, turning the world into silver glass as they tracked that swan-path of old even unto the shadows path.
The distant shore waited for him to come home.
This was his world, both alien and familiar, solitude and solidarity, terribly beautiful and agonizingly comforting.
By sickness or by sword, or blaze of flames or unyielding waves, age or battle, Men will die. Destiny kept him from the rushing sea, from the torrid waves, where his broken heart sang over the waters. He would remain to wander the forests, the ancient guardians, the empty, heartless woods where all was a grove of ash and silence breathed over the heart-song of the harp, where the oceans swelled. Darkness and shadows inducted him with their somber waves. His limp, motionless body shone with a faint silver light as the healing took place. The lacerations drew forth and became whole and when the light departed from his body, he lay before her, soaked, emaciated, and pitiful, but unwounded. As the warm teardrops trickled upon his visage, mingling with the cool raindrops, his beautiful golden-emerald eyes opened and met hers.
Sounds hesitating and vague floated in the air round him, shaped themselves slowly into words; and at last flowed on gently in a murmuring stream of soft and monotonous sentences. He was beyond hearing the faint sound of his ally’s voice but the sense of magick, heated and anticipating stirred him. His eyelids flickered, seeing only faint eddies of emerald and swaths of shadow. A shimmer, perhaps an unseen outline of a humanoid slowly reveled itself. This was benevolent magick that crackled and hissed about her, and though there was great power emanating from the tall slender form, he sensed no malice in the cool pale eyes, the tear streaked visage.
There, bloodied, exhausted he watched her without comprehending, his star-bright eyes weary and heartsick. His hand involuntarily slid up to his throat where he felt the smooth curve of the yarn necklace. He exhaled a breath of relief. That battered necklace was his only friend, a light in the darkness, and he stirred, moving his limbs sluggishly, savouring each beat of his own heart, each breath from his world-weary lungs. Ready for death and yet unsure. The one doomed for death, marked for slaughter stood upon the brink of the world. Never would he sought to hide in the fens, his spirit could depart while he still battled, while blood still flowed and his lungs still breathed, and his soul sang over the torrid waters.
May it be an evening star
Shines down upon you
His eyes…were an animal’s eyes...not quite human... not quite sane, almost vulpine in intelligence but beautiful in a tortured type of beauty. Those tears fell, those sprawling flamboyant patterns committing every artistic sin. It is dull enough to confuse the eye in following, pronounced enough to constantly irritate and provoke study, and when you follow the lame uncertain curves for a little distance they suddenly commit suicide - plunge off at outrageous angles, destroy themselves in unheard of contradictions. He covered his face with his hands; and many a time afterwards, in the course of his life, shuddered at seeing how much inhumanity there is in man, how much savage coarseness is concealed beneath delicate, refined worldliness, and even, O God! In those men whom the world acknowledges as honourable and noble.
With an alacrity that was unknown of, the previously unconscious man leapt forward, teeth bared in fury, and grabbed her by the throat. His grip was restricting but not deadly. “Why did you do it?” he hissed viciously, his tone glacial. His hunted, feral eyes searched her visage. His heart pounded, his head swam.“Why did you save me?” Staring wordlessly into her eyes, the beating of his heart slowed, until it became like ice within his breast. He felt unwanted acceptance flood him as another wave of shadow sent him reeling. He released her as his own weakness caused him to recline back on his elbow, coughing violently.
His eyes were half-closed, his skin deathly pallid, his body shaking with rage and sickness.
“You should have left me”, he snarled hoarsely to her. His eyes were closed now; their lids stained the delicate purplish colour of vital exhaustion. He felt detached, unfeeling as the soft contours of unconsciousness blurred his sharp focus, erasing all that he knew. “Don’t you understand”, he whispered faintly. “You should have let me die…”.His thin hand tightened upon the hilt of his cutlass with a frantic affection, as if resting a hand upon the shoulder of an old friend. The weapon had become his sole compatriot, his only reliance, its use and its support bound to the rogue by each pound of the smith’s hammer, a friendship forged by flame and tempered in blood.
“I don’t want to live any more, damn it”, he hissed maliciously. “And in your act of mercy you have done more evil to me then anyone ever could”. His feral eyes welled with tears and with the same vicious speed; he kissed her sharply and passionately on the mouth. Drawing away just as rapidly, a faint smile touched his lips even as he suffered the onslaught of the rain that pelted them both. His eyes glittered with tears.
“And I will never forgive you”.
Posted on 2007-09-18 at 22:14:43.
Edited on 2007-09-19 at 19:56:08 by Septimus Sandalwood
The rain had begun to fall and the royal ivae sat in the rain beneath the shelter of the nearby woods. The sound of the train trickling down from the sky in the beginning sounded beautiful. The rain was oddly warm for such a time of the year, and it was relaxing her soul to it's extents of what had happened inside the gathering spot.
Having closed her eyes as the ran had begun, her eyes shot open at the sound of the door opening and closing once again. Selene watched as the man Septimus had seemingly followed her outside, and her gaze followed his steadily. A smile found her lips as she continued to watch him stand in the rain. She was about to call out to him, when Zara had followed him outside. The woman's gaze turned cold. She had just finished calming herself from having dealt with the young blood not but moments before. A low growl formed upon her lips and both Storm and Thor looked at her in shock. Neither had heard her act in such a way, but she could not stand sitting on the sidelines watching the woman try and steal the man from her, knowing she had interest in this such man.
The rain would wash away any screams which had taken place, and the young woman calmly watched through the window of the barn. Where she sat, she had a perfect view of all the happenings. The woman failed to see the man's tears from the distance she had been sitting from the barn. And moments later the man rushed out of the barn and seemingly collapsed upon the wet soil of the earth. Fear had swelled with the anger and she bit her lip watching as Zara rushed to his side. The words were unheard since the winds washed them away, but she could only imagine the words she was using towards the man. Septimus was a rogue, and the way he seemed to lash out with his sword then step back and sheath it told her that he wasn't in a right state of mind. She studied the man curiously, and watched as he eventually rose and he had lost his necklace only to have the witch of a woman replace it. In supposed innocence, she assumed would be her answer should the woman confront her. Yet it was in that moment Selene whispered "she's not worth it" and though anger and fear still dwelled within her, it was only mild.
In the moment that their lips met, she was furious and she also seemed to growl towards the woman almost viciously enough to be called a snarl. Thor watched her curiously as she folded her arms and stared towards Zara as if she was a deadly insect which needed to be squished immediately. Soundlessly she began closing herself off from the world. The only person who could reach her would be septimus, but she didn't know why. The anger within her had caused her eyes to turn red and anyone who looked at her would fear for their lives. Her hand grasping the hilt of her sword as she sat with violent thoughts running through her mind. Selene sat still as a statue, yet her reaction time was flawless, and she could behead somebody before they realized that she had moved. Her gaze fixed upon the scene before her of fields, buildings, wildlife and much more. The woman didn't seem as if she wished to be bothered, for she would kill should the wrong thing be said. It would not be the first time that such a scandal had been hidden from the ears of all but those around. The scandal of royalty slaying for no apparent reason, but out of anger, and such a case was about to develop anew.
The woman seemed angry yes, but it didn't appear as if she were alive, for she simply did not move, she didn't even blink, she stared into the distance, into thin air. The words were unheard to the royal ivae, but she wasn't blind, she had seen the kiss thrust upon the young woman, and she had instantly thirst for the taste of blood. She was no vampire, but her sword seemed to speak to her, though she was much more proficient with bow and arrow, she knew that she shouldn't risk it. The sister might attempt upon her life should she murder Zara in cold blood. Were the woman an orphan, she would have murdered her in cold blood as in her past she had done so many times before as a bounty hunter. The steady falling rain adding to the desire to murder in the shelter of the rainfall. It would be a while before somebody noticed the girl missing. She would use excuses that she had gone to fetch supplies, or clothes, or something. The woman had always been quick with excuses, and this would be no different. She could feel her heart beating wildly within her chest as she watched scenes in her mind of how she could kill Zara while inflicting as much pain as she possibly could to the woman.
Crania tilted slightly as twin peaks pin upon them. Pillars shift slightly beneath the frame of the brute. Muscles tighten as pillars thrust upon the earth causes the frame to rise to full height and the brute to stand firmly beside his mistress. Nasals flare and dilate as the brute drinks the scents of those who had come outside. He could sense the pain within Septimus, and the ego of the woman Zara. Vocals vibrate rapidly causing a low growl to dissipate into the whispers of the winds. Should anyone approach the brute's growling would grow louder and would be heard over the gusting winds. The brute nuzzled up to his mistress as maw parted a large pink tongue lolled out and he began licking her face gently, and affectionately. Storm hated when she had anger in her eyes, but the brute nuzzled close and stood over her lap protectively. He would attack anyone at this time, upon his mistress' orders. They had a bond between them which enabled them to share thoughts, and in that moment the brute snarled towards the woman Zara. He could feel that his mistress didn't like this woman in the least, and the brute would do anything for Selene.
A thousand retorts came to mind, but only one was worthy of voicing. What she had wanted to say to the man was that The Light gives everyone choices, her choice was to heal him, her hope was that he could use the time given him to make better choices about himself.
Instead she looked at the necklace knew the right words to say.
"I did it for Rose."
Zara then turned and left Septimus to himself, and the night.
As she turned she sensed the royal Ivae also clinging to the night. Zara’s keen hearing caught the sounds of the growling wolf, picking up his mistress’s moodiness, The Lady Selene was acting more like a petulant child who did not get her way. Sometimes Zara just did not understand the motivations of others, most of which were inconsequential.
Zara returned to Dae and indicated she was ready to move on.
Dalyndra shook her head to Zara. She had proceeded on ,but sensed some problem and had return with the man who was to lead them to the inn.
She walks back to where Septimus still lay on the ground.
The currents in the air were full or emotions from several sources and few of them complimentary to the originator of them. Care would need to be taken if their mission was to ever even get out of the gate--so to speak.
"Do you need help to rise Septimus. I will help you." She help out her hand to him and something more. It was in her eyes, and her manner. The moonlight reflected off her and for a moment it seems she was writhed in light her outline blurred a bit, though perhaps Septimus could put it down to tiredness and blurry eyes. Her voice beckond him to come with her. It was melodious and touched places she most likely did not want others to know about.
Her words were clear and concise, but not commands though Septimus does clearly understand she will not let him stay here like this.
"There are important things that need to be done and few of us to do them. You were most specifically brought into this mission because of talents you possess. I assure I don't have them. Zara doesn't have them and I doubt the Royal miss would have them either. The others left not wanting to risk doing this."
Dalyndra turns to look where the source of so much roiling emotions was coming from. Something she was sensitive to.
"If you are afraid to go on this mission then tell me and I will leave you here, If not I will have you with us, so you get up on you own, or with my help, or I carry you if I need to." she states firm.
Her hand is still out for him, "Take my hand now I can support you for as long as you need." Something in her words rang true they sounded as if they meant so much more than what was just said.
"There are way too many emotions flying around right now. Some are understandable some are not."
"Just one thing I need you to hear I will say this once and only once." Dalyndra voice dropped so only he could hear her. "Zara is a special young woman, do not hurt her needlessly. Do not toy with her emotions." Dalyndra paused and then added "And never tell her I told you this."
Posted on 2007-09-21 at 04:59:21.
Edited on 2007-09-23 at 03:30:01 by Brianna
He felt hollowness at the sullen solitude of those around him. His bright eyes swept over his surroundings nervously. He might have been insane, but he was no fool. Suspicion caused him watch Zara`s sister with chilling contemplation. There was little trust in his eyes, and no facial expressions broke his aura of complete and utter withdrawal.
He flinched slightly as Dalyndra offered her hand, almost as if he expected to be struck for his misdeeds. Such gestures meant only intended harm, he had never been offered kindness. Her words seemed empty to him and another half-interested glance was the only indication that he understood. Physically, he was still weak, but his wounds had been healed previously. He could rise, and battle if needed, but a dark cloud of self-doubt shrouded his fighting spirit and made him shrink from the sight of light.
“Talents”, he whispered almost mockingly, his voice carrying the edge of a snarl. He shook his dark hair from his eyes. “And what talents, do you think I possess?” For the fiftieth time he contemplated his place in this quest and felt his heart darken. His thoughts were flavoured with bitterness. He could lie, he could cheat, he could steal effortlessly, and he could kill.
He had done so many times.
“I am geared towards the darker side of the spectrum”, he explained coldly. “And I assure you that I am the last person you should trust”. A faint little smile touched his lips. “A warning…Miss Dalyndra”.
Anger and a terrible trapped energy coursed through his body, but his expression failed to change. He smiled up at her, but his smile held little humour. “I am not nor will I ever be afraid”, he murmured simply and grasped her hand. With her help he stood unsteadily for a moment and then regained his balance. “I will meet you at the tavern”, he muttered. A curt nod to her expressed his thanks. His eyes darted to her as he processed the words meant only for him. Something darkened in his gaze and he nodded again briefly.
Without another word he raised the hood on his battered cloak to shield himself from the rain, amplifying his mysterious aura. A quick snap of his fingers brought his ebony stallion reluctantly from the shelter of the barn. Grasping the coarse mane, he swung into the saddle in a single motion as his steed pranced restlessly beneath him. He glanced over his surroundings, from the snarling canid and his stolid mistress, to the young and naïve adolescent who aided him, to the strong and independent woman who had promised him her support. “A word of advice”, he addressed them softly, his voice carrying through the rain. “We may be on the same team”, he whispered, his attention shifting to Selene.
"I understand clearly, Captain Septimus Sadlewood, but a point of clarification this is not a team--not yet anyway."
Dalyndra now had to address the other problem waiting in the barn beyond. She was fighting to control herself--not because of Septimus, but because of the woman in the barn
Walking up to the door Dalyndra proceed in. The horse in the barn nicker, and the growls stop and she steps forwards toward the source of the roiling emotions.
She had no time for this royal miss whose emotions had gone far beyond what was apprepriate--so far Dalyndra wonder if the young woman was just spoiled or something more. She did not sense evil but the woman's emotions beat against Dalyndra and hey were impossible to ignore especially from on of her race and rank.
"I don't care about your race, rank, your family, or your generations of distinquished ancestors, and I do not know how your were trained, but you are a discredit to all of them. You have behaved like a petulant child who had a toy taken away--that was not even yours."
She looks directly at Selena. "You will control youself or you will not travel with us. I will expect you once you have have regain self-control at the Golden Cauldron. We have a map to go over and plans to make. If you cannot do that for the rest of the mission then stay here.
"Oh, and one other thing I need you to understand clearly. Never, ever threaten my sister in any way again. Tonight was your first and last threat against her without there being consequences."
Posted on 2007-09-22 at 05:48:47.
Edited on 2007-09-23 at 03:39:35 by Dragon Mistress
The woman sat near her horse and wolf, whom both protected her with their lives. Selene listened to the woman's words and seemed to laugh at their meanings. The woman had caused her mood to change, and she smirked between her laughs. Shaking her head to the woman's words she replied "You think yourself wise and kind woman, but I wish not to hear your words. You think yourself to be the captain of this journey, but don't think yourself that. There are people more qualified to be the leader of the group, so don't sit up on your high horse thinking you are miss thing. Also do not expect that I shall listen to your words in regards to the journey, it is not for you to decide. I was chosen long before anyone else had been chosen to join this mission. You are not my mother, nor any woman I will listen to. You tend to have problems somewhere in your life, and you think that you are a secret weapon in this mission. Let me tell you something, perhaps you should know, that your sister, if you should call her that, is a spoiled little brat who could cause this mission to fail. She's too innocent in much that we must keep close to our hearts." she shot her gaze towards Zara as she shot a glare in her direction. After a very short pause she continued "I knew this the moment she first spoke inside. Secondly, there is you, again thinking you are top dog, well let me tell you something, I'd much rather destroy you than listen to you. You and your sister both should learn how to act in such a group. I don't seem to have a problem with anyone but the pair of you. Must be a family thing. Because you act as if you had to raise her, and that you did a terrible job. She's got a terrible manor about her. Do not think you can waltz up to me and dictate me on how to go about this mission. I've gone on several important events of the same sort, unlike most of you. In the real world, you don't tell of your family history when giving introductions, you don't give any more than you must, otherwise the thing called trust, well it doesn't happen. I don't trust your sister, and I for sure don't trust you. I trust nobody in this world." she had fallen silent, her wolf standing over her lap as she began grooming him caringly, her eyes staring up with hate towards the woman who tried lecturing her, and telling her what to do. She knew the woman had no power to have her stay behind, not that she would even attend the tavern meeting, she had a plan of her own, and if she must execute it herself, so be it, she had 2 friends whom would follow her to death if they must.
The winds blew against her, blowing her locks across her face gently. The rain still soaking her from head to toe, yet she didn't seem to mind. Watching the woman cautiously, she chirped for her mount to join then, not that he had been far. It was only then that she stood, and mounted Thor bareback, glaring down at the woman Dylandra she spoke "You should think better of speaking to me without a real reason. I don't like you or your sister, and don't dictate me on how to live my life, wench" she shook her head, chirped twice and sat perfectly upon the back of the horse, as the trio rode off into the darkness. Kicking up mud as they bolted out towards the horizon. She didn't even head the same direction as Septimus, for she had a destination she would reach before the sun rose high in the mid-day sky. Both wolf and horse galloping off into the shadows of the night. Enjoying the refreshing rain upon them all. Smiling as she rode off into the night.
Dalyndra did not bother to say anything more to the woman either before or as she departed. There was no reason to do so since she would not listen. and several reasons not too. Having said her piece she walked back to Zara.
Listening to Zara's comment, Dalyndra response evenly, "We ultimately only can control ourselves. I, perhaps, was not as diplomatic as I could have been, that was my failing." Dalyndra tries to keep a open mind about the young woman she was trying really hard to keep a positive attitude as well."
"I will keep my word to go on this mission and keep to what I told her. Now, we have things to do before we leave. I need first to stop at a Temple of the Light."
Dalyndra asks the Prince's courier to take them to the closest Temple of the Light. She sets off briskly, as time is of the essence now.
Once there Dalyndra asks the lackey to wait for her inviting him inside out of the damp cold night. Inside the temple is bright with light reflect from many sources against white marble walls. In the center of the main floor is a large circle of golden stone, The circle of Light. The symbol of the Light, and eight pointed star gold with four greater rays of gold and four lesser rays of silver between them. Encircling them all is an prismatic dragon its scales shimmering with all the colors of the rainbow on the North wall. This circular room is common to all temple's of the Light, small and large.
At the Temple she shows a letter of writ from the main Temple of the Light near home. It allows Dalyndra to be provided such things as can be spared by the receiver to aid her quest. She will request two horses and a pack animal for their journey and replacements for what was lost coming here, though that she would pay out of her own pocket.
The Temple acolyte who greeted them first listened to Dalyndra’s request and then showed Dalyndra and Zara to the priest on duty that night. She explained her needs and the priest tells she he will arrange for everything to be delivered to the Golden Cauldron as soon as possible. Dalyndra sign a chit for the fair value of the horses and goods she has requested that this temple can submit to the main temple for repayment. She also requests the services of a mage with the ability to copy a map and other information. Once that is done she goes into the circle of Light to pray for the success of this mission, again trying to keep a positive attitude on it, but it was hard after all the goings on tonight after leaving the Prince's summer house.
Dalyndra comes out of the circle, some time later, tithes a platinum piece and has the courier lead them finally to the Golden Cauldron. Dalyndra hands the young man two gold coins for all his patience this night.
Posted on 2007-09-24 at 04:39:27.
Edited on 2007-09-24 at 05:26:15 by Brianna
As Dae speaks to the acolyte, Zara wanders over into the cirle. Even with her eyes closed she can feel the presence of the Light and she stands in rapt attentiveness. The Light saturated every part of her, warmth emminated from His Presence, enwrapping and filling her with Light. Yet words fell far short of what one felt with held in the Light.
What passed between herself and the Light was known only to them, but she express in an unspoken prayer was that Septimus would learn to make better choices, and that one day he could ask forgiveness from his child Rose, for allowing himself to become something Rose would have never understood, if she lived. She even asked forgiveness for her unkind thoughts about the "Royal" Ivae. Not that she ever voiced them, even to Dae, but she had thought them.
As she broke contact she voiced one last pray. "I wish to help our group succeed. I know it is by your will I am here, and I am ready to serve you."
As Zara steps from the Circle she see Dae also leaving and she joins her.
From there it is onto the Golden Cauldron and Zara is almost bouncing along side of Dae. She knows her half sister enough that does not interrupt her with the thousands of questions that came to mind.
What would it be like? Would there be crowds of rowdy patrons, gambling, drinking and wenching? Would it be a smoky den of thieves? What about a Bard, or dancing girls?
By the time they were led in the double doors Zara's imagination a had concocted a hundred different images of what it would be like.
She stopped just inside the door and stared out like a gawky teen, which is what she was. Not one of her images fit the upper end Tavern/Inn that was the Golden Cauldron. There was a short entrance hall and to the immediate left was an open set of double doors leading into the common room. There was a bit of a crowd, finishing dinner, relaxing, conversing, listening to a bard off to one side. Most of the clientle were middle class, locals and merchants. A couple of young officers were standing over by the fireplace sticking hot pokers into mugs of cider. The smell of apples, cinnamon and cloves filled the air around them. Serving girls, not wearing blouses so low cut that showed more breast that they covered, moved quickly about the tables, but no patron every pinched them on the rear, or grabbed one onto his lap. The Bard was not singing an Epic Tale with a voice so exquisite that it could charm stars from the sky. Not that his voice was bad, infact the Bard had a very pleasant voice.
But there was no gambling, no fights, no.....nothing.
They always thought of the world as sliding off Septimus, like water off a duck’s back. Its cruelty never seemed to stick, never seem to ruffle his feathers, at least not for long. Sometimes – rarely – he would twitch at some particularly acerbic remark, hunching his shoulders, but the moment would pass.
At least until the next time humanity rained on his parade.
He came to think of it as being as inevitable as the weather; People would be always sunny, always bright and cheerful like the days that never change. And him? He was something else, like the weather across the ocean maybe. Idyllic upon the surface but truly all thunderstorms and moods, attempting to wash all away before him, failing miserably. The world was immutable, unchanging. At his darkest, most hateful days he thought of it solely as the desert.
Nothing but emptiness for miles.
It was unfair, he knew that. He had always known that. Even in the desert there are things below the surface. There were things below the surface in him too, but he had yet to dig for it. It was enough to know that even when he raged, even when his tongue lashed out and he spilled forth venom at the easiest target, the world would be there to take it. Words would have to sink into him like water into the desert and disappear beneath the surface without a trace. Like it was with himself.
He had forgotten, however, just how destructive storms could be. He had to deal with the victims of one once, and the ocean surrounded them, dwarfed them, tossed them in her loveless arms. She carried them for miles and left them broken like dolls upon some distant shore. He had forgotten the power of water. Given enough time even the smallest trickle could carve through rock, leaving gullies and crevasses that could run miles deep. The same thunderstorms that washed his first loves away could wash away topsoil, scouring the surface clear to expose what’s underneath. The cruelty that slid off his back a hundred times before could do the same.
On that enormous mass of blackness there was not a gleam to be seen, not a sound to be heard. It was gliding irresistibly towards them and yet seemed already within reach of the hand. His keen gaze searched the abysmal blackness for the darkness that he sensed still lurked. Lifting his head and arching his neck back he observed the Moon hanging in the sky, bright, like orb of marble in the night sky, darkness all around it, its light beating back the ebony cloak. The Moon's glow cast its light on his broken form, glowing with the brilliance of the Moon, his alabaster skin, smooth and unmarred in the light. Coral lips, deep and full, curved in a slight smile as he gazed upon Luna, sensing beauty even within deepest darkness. Night had fallen, wrapping all creatures in its deep folds, embracing the world with inky arms, banishing the strange forbidding.
The darkness dispersed.
Faint orbs of light guided him as his hand curved gently about the knob of the door. His heart beat fiercely in the gloom, pushing back the chill that hung like the touch of death. So deep was the chill that vapor was exhaled with each laboured breath. The bleeding had long ceased, but pain, dulled and insistent, tormented him. His ragged jerkin, blood-stained and pitiful was abruptly covered from sight as his fumbling hands closed the dark cloak about his shoulders. His thin countenance was shrouded in the hood, watchful and forbidding. His eyes closed as he listened to the joviality of the tavern.
He opened the door.
The bard cut off in song. The quiet and sluggish mumblings of drunkards tapered into silence. Suspicious eyes turned towards him as silence enveloped him and suffocated him. He cast his despairing eyes around at the silent, rugged faces, and saw not one. He ached. Pain was the only thing that managed to convince him that he was still alive. He had cheated Death once again it seemed. Although it was another day of destruction, he almost needed longer beneath his listless dreams. For whilst others escaped into the realms of dream and imagination, he seized the opportunity to refocus his reality and redraft his life plan. It came to him so clearly, as obvious as a cliché. Deep down he only really craved one thing. The happiness so prematurely snatched from him.
They would all have to realize that they were no longer the children with their fingers in the dam, trying to hold back the flood. The dams had burst and everything had been washed away, but it was not them who were drowning.
Zara saw him, a dark aspect in the door way. So far her expectations for a rough and tumble tavern were all wrong. So he was a bright point in what had started out as a very odd night.
Caught in the exhuberance of the moment she waved to him from their corner table. Dae had singled it out as a place for speaking in moderate privacy. So far the they had spent a boring amount of time waiting, and though the bard was passable and the ale, the one small cup Dae allowed her, was ok. Had Dae's hand not restrained her she would had skipped up to Septimus and dragged him back by the hand. So she wiggled in her seat as he looked for them, having not seen her waving hand yet.
She was sure her waving hand caught his attention as his slow turn stopped in their direction. Then he came like a dark wave, the hood of his cloak pulled forward, the dark material of the full cloak rippling around him as he moved. It was clearly evident that there was a sword being carried under his cloak.
Just as Septimus arrived a serving girl came up with a tray a placed it on the table and off loaded 3 filled mugs and picked up the empty two. The smell of hot mulled cider rose with the steam.
"Begging you pardons," she dropped her voice to the barest whisper, "but I was told to give this to you," and she slipped a paper off the tray so as none could see.
Dae slid the paper to her, it was sealed with the prince's signet. She showed the the seal to Septimus, before opening it.
Follow this server to a private dining room.
"Your private dining room is ready," the girl said in a normal level, "if you will please follow me I will lead you there.
The girl swept up the tray with the two empty mugs and despite the speed and the deep tilt the mug miraculously stayed put then waited as Dae and Zara stood.
Weeding her way through the table she leads you to a set of doors and behind them is a hall. Down at the end of the hall two men stand in conversation. Before you get to them the girl stops before the middle of three doors and opens it.
"Your guest is waiting." As they step she closes the door.
A figure in a deep green cloak is standing before the fire, but turns as the door is closed.
"Good Evening," the well modulated voice of the Prince greets them. Please sit, dinner is on the table."
And it was, fat roasted capons, game pies, a number of vegetale dishes, bread, butter, cheese, and honey.
"It seems you three are what is left of those who came to my house. Please be seated and eat. Then we will discuss why I and you are here.
Zara, piqued by the appearance of the prince, served herself though she wished that the meal was over so she could know what the Prince had to say right now, However as it was just starting she set about filling a plate with chicken and some game pie, and then vegetalbes, bread and butter and some cheese. With the plate filled she got up and went over to Septimus, as the plate she had filled was for him.
"Your NEED to replenish yourself from healing." Zara said handing the plate to him.
That said she returned to her place, as others served themselves. She finally put a wing and drumstick and a piece of game pie on her plate. She nibbled at them as the others ate. Her mind was racing along with whys and wheres and what ifs.
Posted on 2007-10-05 at 16:27:48.
Edited on 2007-10-05 at 17:20:51 by Dragon Mistress
Brianna Not Dragon Mistress Karma: 105/32 2282 Posts
Dalyndra was not sure what exactly was going on, but it seemed to her as if some of this had been a test. Though she couldn't figure out what the test was supposed to reveal about them, or what the Prince wanted to know.
Carefully she goes over the nights events in her mind trying to figure it out. There had been the introductions which were straight forward enough to say the least. That they were widely different people from different backgrounds was evident. Since The Prince had been there for all their introductions and had heard what they all had to say he knew that much about them. Dalyndra also knew he must know much more than just those introductions. She suscpects that he had plenty of information on them all. True, as Selena had pointed out, Dalyndra had presented information about herself, but little more. Personally she had not felt that her parents and her relations were something she would draw upon, except for what they had taught her and what was ingrained in her upbringing. But she did not use their names or who they were when introducing herself. She stood and introduced herself and what she was and had made of herself.
The later events took their own strange turnings. Certainly they were nothing she had expected from the initial gathering and introduction. Of course that did not include Zara, who was a force of nature, unto herself. Dalyndra remember several occasions earlier in their relationship as half-sisters. Sometimes things just happened around her. Though, this time it was Zara’s actions that precipitated most of the events.
Not that Dalyndra blamed Zara for Selena’s actions and reactions. That incident still puzzled Dalyndra because it just seemed to make no sense to her. Septimus was much more understandable. He was a man pushed very close to his limits right now. He walked a fine line and he walked it alone. Zara first and then Dalyndra held out a helping hand but he had rebuffed them both. His actions though his own would not stop Dalyndra from offering again should she feel he needed help. Though, she might have to find a way to be less direct about it. Which was a sort of problem for her being a rather up front person, direct and to the point her father once had told her.
Dalyndra watched Zara, and then turned her attention back to the Prince. He apparently knew about most of the goings on this night after they had left. Dalyndra knew that they had on of the Prince's people with them courier or not.
All the time Dalyndra thought as she ate, she too was interested in what the Prince had to say and she could tell that Zara was too, nibbling away at a few items while her eyes kept moving about.
Dalyndra finished her meal and set down her dishes over on an empty serving platter. Taking a goblet she poured herself a glass of wine and sat down again with her attention politely on the Prince.
Posted on 2007-10-05 at 17:59:18.
Edited on 2007-10-05 at 21:18:43 by Brianna
The door opens slowly, and a wiry man cautiously steps in. Shining eyes scan the room, and he steps forward.
Wearing a faded green suit, brown hair cut short, and fair skin clear of scars, he swallows and says hesitantly.
"I apoligize for being late, my companion was injured en route, and I had to tend to his wounds."
His brown eyes sweep the room again, and he smiles.
"At least I'm here. Hopefully I haven't caused any trouble?"
He looks as though he would sit down but is politely waiting for an invitation. Thinking to himself, he wonders exactly what the discussion that will follow will entail. He also worries about the health of Midnight, his companion on his travels, who waits outside hunting.
Posted on 2007-10-10 at 00:19:42.
Brianna Not Dragon Mistress Karma: 105/32 2282 Posts
Dalyndra takes her lead from the Prince. Seeing no adverse reaction to the man and if fact quite the opposite. The Prince motions him forward.
She stands and reaches out her hand in welcome. " Glad to have you here," she respoinses to the man. "I am Dalyndra Goldenwings." She lets others introduced themselves. It is not too hard to figure out this man is either a ranger or druid or both. It will certainly be of great assistance to them as they traverse lands that have seen few people in hundreds of years. Pf cpiurse she is still hoping for a cleric and a magic user to join them. A clerics for their divine skills and spells, and a Magic User for the arcane skill and knowledge. Especially since the lands hads be ravaged by Mage wars hundreds of years ago too. There was no telling what magic might have twisted what is normal into other things leass easily defeated or dealth with.
Havng a active imagination that she tried very hard to keep control of with her more rational mind still allowed her to think on many things that could go wrong.
"I do hope you companion is recovered it not behaps I can help with it healing." she nods to the man of nature. hoping he will introduce himself.
To the Prince she addresses her concerns. "Your HIghness. We really need to recruit and Magic User and a Cleric. THere skills and knowledge will be of importance to the success of our mission. If none are hear ready to go with us perhaps we have the latitude of recruiting interested party members on our way."
He then sits, and after hearing Dalyndra, he speaks again, voice serious yet somehow light.
"I can provide healing myself, I am a druid, as you may have guessed."
He laughs at himself.
"However, a cleric I am not, and one would be extremely useful. Hopefully however we would not be injured so much as to require too much healing-but I would not have faith in the supposedly barren land's being actually barren."
Edgy, he glanced first at the prince and then again at Zara. He owed her his life and he made him uncomfortable. He watched her silently, as if contemplating her movements. His motions were jerky, like a bird’s as he took the plate from her, staring uneasily at the bounty of food. He tensed momentarily as if fearful that it would be taken away and then, finally placated, he began to eat delicately.
He glanced up sharply as the new man entered, slightly disturbed. His golden-emerald eyes seared into him as he gauged his strengths and weaknesses. A tense smile was afforded to Zara, but his attention was quickly brought back to the new man.
“Captain Septimus Sandalwood”, he said curtly to him, refusing to mince words.
He rose swiftly to his feet, his movements causing his dark cloak to swirl about his lean form. His feral eyes were bright and curious, and he stretched out a wary hand for him to shake.
He studied him with attentive animal watchfulness.
“You might say I’m an entrepreneur of sorts”, he murmured with his usual dry humour. “Though I daresay most businessmen are not fond of me”. He smiled thinly. “I am rather notorious, you see, and it does put a damper on my place in society”. He was still clearly shaken, but he mastered himself well, showing no signs of his earlier breakdown.
Again he seated himself and laced his hands before him.
Posted on 2007-10-10 at 20:16:25.
Edited on 2007-10-10 at 20:19:18 by Septimus Sandalwood
Zara smiled at each man in turn, it is as simple as it is genuine. And those smiles lighted up her face. She does not let the consternation of what happened eearlier interfer with what was happening now. As he mother often said, "Let the water go under the bridge," and she did.
"I know my skills as a Sorceress and an weilder of divine energies is not the same as what Dae seeks," she looks to Dae and shrugs her fine shoulders. "But I can do both to some extent."
She gets up and fills and plate for the man of nature, adding more of the vegetables and fruit, thinking that would probably be more his kind of food.
She places the plate before him and leans close, "Eat fast, then he will tell us what he did not tell us in his home."
She then returns to her seat and sits primly on the edge of her chair. She looks to the Prince in anticipation.
Posted on 2007-10-12 at 05:41:10.
Edited on 2007-10-12 at 05:42:07 by Dragon Mistress
"Please, all of you go continue eating; I do believe you can listen at the same time."
"A few months ago I had the privilege of meeting a most remarkable lady. She brought me something that had piqued her curiosity and in turn mine.
"It goes way beyond the Barrens in importance, even further back in time to a point where the land masses of our world were not in the shape as they are now. I have had scholars searching our most ancient texts for the reference to this happening. The result of that search has lead to a startling discovery.
"20 to 25 thousand years ago there was a titanic catastrophe. Our earliest records seem only to go to that time, though there are stories and epics of times before that. Our Sages are at a loss as to why we do not have records from before that time. There is speculation that we came to this land after escaping what was the destruction of our homeland. It seems, from all accounts that Elfland completely disappeared. What we have claimed as our lands over the millennia is not our land of origination."
He pauses to look to each of the people gathered in the room.
He claps his hands and two servants enter with a large box about 3.5x3.5x5 feet. It is a stunning crafted and carved chest inlayed with gold and set with cabochons of precious gems. They set it on the floor as another box is brought in though it is a bit smaller and it is put on the table. The servants then depart.
He opens the smaller box and draws out a globe which he passes around so that all could see it. It was something Septimus would give his eyeteeth to have, a beautiful globe with all the lands of Western and Eastern Kalos (A super continent) and the enigmatic Sea of Annihilation, an almost perfect circle left after the cataclysm which was caused, so the tales say by a titanic war between Good and Evil. The Good was the Empire of Shahndar and her allies, and the Evil were the dreaded Krayelens named after their terrible fire god, Krayel. Those stories abounded even to this day. Mothers used Krayel like a boogeyman to get bad children to behave.
Below Kalos were the 2 small continents; one was the Sunken Lands, the mountains of which were now islands and the other was Arven, and over the top was the icy continent of Norlan, but it was only a one sided globe for few sailors ever dared sailing east across the Great Ocean where Shahndar was said to have been. There was also a vague coastline detailing the edge of a continent west of Western Kalos.
When all have seen the first globe he stands and goes to the large chest. "Please, come join me." and when all are gathered he then speaks in Ancient Draconic, "Sesam,"
With that walls and top of the chest open like petals and reveal a magnificent Globe. As they watch the walls continue to fold up back under the globe forming a pedestal, lifting the globe off the ground. The inside walls were even more inlayed and decorated with precious gems, some to them faceted. It is a magnificent work of art which magically floated over the base. Around the globe was cunning wrought bright metal circle carved in the shape of a thin stylized dragon holding its own tail in its mouth. The metal is brilliant white and the individual scales so precisely cut that their mirror like finish shot off prismatic colors. There is only one metal that is so white and bright, the rarest of all mithral, White Mithral. The globe spun round on a mithral axis suspended inside the circle of the dragon, truly suspended, as the axis did not attach to the circle. Magic held the globe's axis in place as the prince spun it.
The Prince lets his guests examine the globe. Septimus would quickly recognize that this globe showed no Sea of Annihilation, and there were continents all around it.
(OCC if you have any question put them in Rylanor Q&A.)
Posted on 2007-10-12 at 06:38:43.
Edited on 2007-10-12 at 22:02:59 by Dragon Mistress
Brianna Not Dragon Mistress Karma: 105/32 2282 Posts
The first globe was a treasure for sure. Someone had spent hours and hours of hard work crafting the globe with the vivid colors of semiprecious stone, but it paled to insignificance when the larger globe was revealed.
Dae's eyes widen with surprise when she realized it was not just beautiful beyond belief, it was also was treasured artifact from the before time.
She turns to the Prince. "You are most correct in your assumptions. Amongst the Elves not as many generations have passed since the Cataclysm, as we called it. Elfhome was indeed lost to us. We are only the remnants left here when Elfhome was separated from this world. Many elves chose to go to Elfhome before it was closed off to the world. Many also stayed. The oldest bloodlines were lost to us. This is why today there are different types of elves, those of the forest, the plains, the mountains, the snow, and the most elusive and most changed of us the deep wood elves, some say they are crossed with fairy folk and not pure elves and the aquatic elves."
"This must be the world as it was before the cataclysm, can I touch it?" Dae asks even as she walks around it. Kalos was totally unfamiliar without the vast Sea of Annihilation that took out the huge circle of land almost out of the center of the continent, and on the far side of the globe were the unknown continents--Four of them --three north of the equator and one larger south of the two most easter continents. The continent closest to the east coast of Kalos had to be the fabled land of Shahndar lost destroyed in the cataclysm.
Posted on 2007-10-14 at 05:07:16.
Edited on 2007-10-14 at 05:18:37 by Brianna
"It would seem your House has information we did not find." He gives Dae a look. "It is one of the reasons now that I have emissaries going to every Elven House and all seats of knowledge. To copy all all those books and scrolls that are not noted on the list we sent with them. Each has a Mage with them that can do a Copy Spell or has a magic scriber."
"Yes, please touch it I think you will find it as interesting as I did."
(Anyone touching it will find that one can feel minute mountains and as a finger touches water it feels wet and with it come the smell of the sea, in the North and South, cold, and in the desert lands, heat and dryness. Jason and anyone with Elf blood will feel the touch and scents of a forest, when their finger touches certain areas. There are also the scents of grasslands, taiga, and tundra.)
Posted on 2007-10-14 at 23:04:17.
Edited on 2007-10-14 at 23:12:32 by Dragon Mistress