(Prev)
Notice: This is an intermission/recap, not actually really part of the story. You will miss nothing by skipping to the end of this and on to the next post of the story if you understand everything that's happened so far.
All great stories need a storyteller, a voice, someone to tell the tale. There must be a survivor, for if everyone dies in the end nobody can ever know what happened. But that's a bit morbid. A figure sits in a chair in an old inn somewhere near the border between Rithara and the Republic of Ardan. He is a Shadow Fang with graying fur across the top of his head, his ears, tail and face, all of which was once a solid dark brown. A long stick, a simple cane rests against his chair. And a crowd is gathered before him. He's been speaking for a while now, yet his voice is not hoarse; and now he speaks again.
"What? You want me to go over all of that again? I've barely even begun to tell...yet, I suppose, it was a little hard to keep track of everything that was going on the first time I heard it, too. It's only going to get more complicated from here, so I suppose it is best you have the simpler beginnings of this tale straight first.
"Captain Conall Morgan Reynolds, a Red Dragoon, owner and operator of the Farran, was under attack by a dragon named Arizan. She had been told a vague prophecy by a Choneiji known for causing trouble through such, and who had once been a passenger on Conall's ship. Fortunately, Among Conall's crew there was the progressively-minded Fylenis Whyskars. He was able to convince Arizan that the airship's crew were not, in fact, assassins sent to kill her. So she joined them and went to the engine room for a while. Then the real trouble started.
"Verra Kriset, a notorious, powerful and insane pirate who Conall had dealt with on the very same flight as the troublesome Choneiji--whose name was Raoclem, by the way--spotted the Farran on the horizon. As her loyal helmsman, Callor, pointed out they were well under their usual force of pirates, but being generally reckless and overconfident, and quite motivated by revenge, she pushed the attack anyway. It went badly. Every pirate who tried to attack the Farran was taken down: Two by the captain himself; one by Xachariah, a Shadow Fang with a mysterious blindfold; two by Ann, an Eagle Woman who preferred efficiency of speech and used a pole-mounted axe to do her dirty work; three by the Fylenis, a feat made easy by his control of illusion--eight in all, Verra's lucky number, for all the good it did her. Meanwhile Verra herself tried a one-woman assault on the ship, which gave her increasingly more injuries as she fought and escaped Xach's unseeing gaze, revealed that she could see through Whys' illusions through a strange spell, and eventually came to Conall--her true target. By then everyone was set to fight her as a team, and they very nearly caught her--if not for a little intervention. For Ann had been sent to wreck Verra's ship and take out any remaining pirates, but she only found the one..Callor, still manning the helm. He told her she shouldn't approach him, and she didn't take the threat seriously enough, leading him to use his own spell, setting off a line of explosions that not only allowed Verra to escape, but nearly threw two of the Farran's crew off the ship into the ocean.
"In the aftermath of the battle, Arizan was informed, and the Farran's crew tended to their wounds the best they could for the moment. The Gran Daora, Verra's ship, crash-landed on its captain's directions--less skilled than the helmsman, but good enough for that moment--in some woods, hidden from the eyes of authorities. So ended chapter one.
"The Farran landed in the city of Rysinth, and the money earned by turning in the captured crew of the Gran Daora was sufficient to pay for the healing of wounds, both of ship and crew. The people were tended to far faster, and soon all were gone from the hospital, spread throughout Rysinth. The Fylenis met with an old friend, Leona, an elvish actress who was young at the time of the Ardanian war, now transformed by the transformer to a partially Fylenis form, at her own request, for she had always admired the Fylenis. Whys taught her the ropes and rules that the race may use and must adhere to, though he neglected to warn her of their relation to the Ekim. Conall, wandering the town, happened upon his sister, Charlotte, telling a one-man unwilling audience an inaccurate if entertaining tale. She saw his healing injuries from the recent fight and had to know the story behind that, of course, but it saved her 'victim' any further muddling of his own history. This person was Khazu, a young Black Earth with a little Blue Tail a few generations up in the line, and a very good friend of Leona's, as fate would have it. Once Conall finished his story, Charlotte insisted that if he could procure an Ekim weapon like Verra's it would afford him an advantage in her inevitable next revenge attempt. She explained that a noble of some sort by the name of Bernard had suggested the location of just such an item, and in no time had convinced or verbally bullied both men present into joining a quest to do just that. But three is hardly a proper adventuring party, and Khazu wanted to find Leona first, so they set out to find more people to join their mission.
"The dragon stayed with Ann; Arizan was quite unused to human culture and had to have the concept of a restaurant explained for her. Unfortunately, they had barely finished their meal before Ann was arrested. However, she revealed to the captain of the guard that the wanted poster he based her arrest on was quite out of date, and further explained that she would be glad to help capture the man who had been her employer at the time that poster was published..someone called Rixxan, leader of the Fox Bandits. Arizan eventually agreed to help in this effort, as well.
"Xach, meanwhile, went to an arranged meeting with a young woman he had mentored in the art of fighting blind. Her name was Arozi; she was of the same mix as Kalzen, Blue and Yellow, but with quite a different shade as the end result. And she had no eyes. However, that hadn't stopped her from already becoming a Peacekeeper captain--the Peacekeepers are an organization who seek to fight off pirates and thereby make airship trade and transport safer. They spoke of how they had been since the last time they met; Arozi explained the situation with her future mate, Karua; and eventually Xach told her the full story of Verra's attack. It contained vital strategic information a Peacekeeper could use against such a notorious pirate, and added to Verra's impressive list of crimes.
"When the two blind Neshoba left the bar, they found Leona waiting, and Whys disguised as Karua. Leona meant to test Arozi's loyalty to Karua, even in the face of him apparently changing his mind, but Whys quickly realized what her game was and got out of it as soon as he could. A brief fight ensued, in which Leona demonstrated the surperior skills that come with age by deflecting all of Arozi's attacks, always coming close to hitting the other woman but stopping just short--fighting the way an actor fights onstage, in other words. Whys used illusions to send them both away in opposite directions. Then Edward, Blue Tail helsman of the Farran, arrived.
"Edward had run into Raoclem, who was half Yellow Moon and half Shadow Fang; and a friend of his, Aurica, who had in fact taught Charlotte in the arts of both entertaining if inaccurate storytelling and katana-wielding, the latter of which was much more useful to her occupation as a hunter. Edward didn't know who Aurica was, and had never met her before; he gave Raoclem a punch for the trouble he'd caused, and Raoclem revealed an impending Blood Moon as a distraction from the questions Edward really should have been asking. He left before thinking to ask those questions, wanting only to tell Xach.
"Conall and Khazu tracked Leona as far as her meeting with Whys, but lost the trail due to natural Fylenis paranoia. However, The Spirits had it that a Shadow Fang by the name of Terminus, who had once been deceived by Verra--again, the same incident with Raoclem--and whose spell allowed him to go instantly from one place to another, saw where Leona was and knew Conall wanted to find her. He led the two straight to her; she agreed to go along with the group because she wanted something to do, Terminus decided to join them to repay a debt owed to Conall for the damage his deception by Verra had allowed him to cause, and Khazu had already been firmly roped into the scheme by then. They went back to Charlotte.
"Charlotte, while seeking people to join her tomb-raiding campaign, came upon a strange, black-scaled Ekim woman named Shazak, whose soul weapon was a long-barreled metal crossbow. Then Conall and the others met up with Charlotte, and they agreed to gather supplies, sleep that night, and leave on the next morning on their strange and impulsive quest.
"While all of that was going on: Callor was blind from the use of his spell, but still able to heal and patch up some of Verra's wounds from the battle. When he was finishing up, a man named Bernard appeared--possibly the same Bernard who had given Charlotte supposed directions to an Ekim weapon--and suggested that Verra would fare better at taking her vengeance on the crew of the Farran if she had a better crew herself. He even brought along a candidate for this new dream pirate crew, a knife-wielding elf called Ewk. Callor, meanwhile, was annoyed as usual by Bernard's pet cat, Gretchen. He left to his quarters to try and sleep off his remaining hours of blindness from the spell.
"And that, was chapter two.
"Hn...on second thought, I have no idea how I was ever confused by any of that. Anyway, it's time for a little change of pace. For while the heroes set out on their various trips, and Verra and the enigmatic Bernard plotted, Callor fell asleep in his room, and had most unusual dreams..."
(Next)
From: http://www.mspaforums.com/showthread.php?42524-Airships-Over-Aranor-Prose
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
Airships Over Aranor 18
(Prev)
We return to the Ekim and Charlotte. The narrational guessing game went somewhat badly, due to non-present narration, so the human asks instead. "So what's your name anyway?"
"They call me Shazak. What is next?"
"Next..well, I'm supposed to meet the others here. I guess we'll decide from there."
They don't have to wait long; Conall shows up with not one, but two more people. This is great news!
"Glad to see you're still here."
Charlotte grins. "Oh, I was just about to start looking for you. Now, you two. You're Leona, Khazu's friend, right?"
"Yep."
"She's an actress. You should get along fine. Leona, this is my sister Charlotte. And he's Terminus..you remember what I told you about the trip with Raoclem?"
"Is that the story with the explosive monkeys or the desperate battle with the teleporting mind-control pirates?"
"It is probably the second one. The first sounds made up. What about you?" He turns to the Ekim.
"Shazak."
"What is your soul-weapon? For strategic purposes in case we do end up walking into a nest of bandits. She did tell you what was actually going on, right?"
"Charlotte told me enough."
"..I didn't tell you my name."
"He just said it. And it is a, you call it...'metal crossbow'."
"Really? I have never heard of an Ekim with that before."
Shazak seems to pull something out of her left arm with her right hand, and then she is holding the weapon: an unusual metal crossbow. It has the scaly texture of a usual Ekim weapon, and two rather long barrels. "My elders were surprised as well. They had to hire an elf to teach me using it."
"So if I may ask, why are you interested in helping us with this..insane mission? It may not pay anything at all, other than injury."
"Well. I am a mercenary, under a year-long contract to a ship called Reliant. It is down now, thanks to an attack by some pirates led by a merman captain. I was surprised that he managed to hit us with exploding cannonballs and his crew had the courage to walk across a piece of wood latched between the ships, or swing across with roped hooks to get on board. He was surprised I was able to shoot them down before they could make it onto the Reliant. I was offered a bonus in pay for my service, which will leave me comfortably while the ship is being repaired. So I merely need something to do in that time. I do not like being bored."
Leona, watching this conversation, is somewhat curious what the Ekim is thinking. Rather, she is curious why she doesn't already know. Everyone else's surface thoughts seem to come in loud and clear, but Shazak doesn't appear to be thinking anything, at least not that loudly. That really ought to be a warning sign--but not to Leona.
Well, surface thoughts are still surface thoughts if you have to look at them actively, right? As long as there isn't any digging going on? Leona attempts to take a small peek.
----
"This is not a normal contract. I expec%&* @* $$ %well."
"I will make it worth your while. Simply *@&$* for a little while and your true m$^^#@"
"Suppose $#%@^ @^$#~ while I am bus%&$ %@#$em?"
"It makes no difference to me whether you or $^#@&, as long as your mark is #@%%."
"..This better not end like my last unusual contr@%$."
"It won't. Trust me, I won't be going anywhere for a long time. Listen, don't worry so much, have fun with it. It'll all work out in the end. Also...in case you're curious...oh who am I kidding, I know you are. I was the one wh%#%^%%&^#& @***********************"
----
That hurt. That really hurt. Not physically, but mentally. Leona now fully understands the meaning of mental pain, a very strange and nuanced thing that only Fylenis and victims of illegally-acting Fylenis ever tend to experience. And it hurts. Leona finds herself collapsed on the ground, the others asking if she is alright, and, having been sucked briefly into some kind of incomprehensible memory, she could hardly hold the concentration to place an illusion over her feline features.
Leona allows herself to be helped up by the Shadow Fang--Terminus--and brushes herself off. She looks at the Ekim, who seems mildly curious as to what just happened. Shazak probably knows Leona attempted to do something. "I am very sorry. I'll explain." She points to her ears. "You see these? I was recently given a partially Fylenis form by the Transformer, at my request. A Fylenis friend of mine told me about how to use my powers legally..but didn't warn me what would happen if I tried to use them to glance at an Ekim's thoughts. Sorry about that."
"...It is alright. Just do not attempt that again."
Leona rubs her forehead. "Trust me, I won't."
There is a brief, awkward silence. Charlotte will have none of that. "Well, in that case we should get going! And I was thinking, our party needs a name." (Awkward silence or just silence in general, take your pick.)
"It is close to sunset. Should we not gather supplies today, and rest tonight so we are better prepared for the journey."
"Pah! Who needs supplies?"
"...A group of six people going across wild terrain, likely monster-infested, looking for a tomb which may or may not exist. I know you are used to traveling incredibly light, but it pays to be prepared."
"..Oh all right." Anyone who thinks they know Conall and Charlotte would be surprised she agreed with him. Anyone who really knows them would find this no surprise at all.
So they did as Conall suggested, and eventually all were asleep in an affordable inn.
"Is this situation resolved? Can we go outside? I am not comfortable with tight spaces."
Ann looks at the dragon for a momoment of silence, in an effort to highlight the bad timing of the outburst. "..Do you have a training yard?"
"Yes," says the guard captain.
"Good. We plan there. Unless you'd rather not help with this?" This last part directed at the dragon.
"Why should I help you?"
"It's what I'm doing, if you want to stay with me. Don't dragons think of themselves as protectors of people?"
"...Sometimes."
"Well. Rixxan has hurt more people than most monsters ever will. And I think I know a way you can help that will hardly risk your injury."
"Alright, alright. I shall help this once."
Xach followed the arrest, since he was the only one who had already eaten. Now Whys and Edward join him near the guard barracks. "They haven't come out yet."
Hmm...Judging by what I hear from in there, Ann isn't under arrest anymore. She's agreed to help them capture a criminal or something.
"..Should we help her?"
....Nah. She can fend for herself. The dragon's still with her, and she even convinced her to help. They'll be fine. Let's find something else to do.
"Aye, Ewk White. Ain't surprised you don't remember, with all the weakling riffraff you 'ired around the same time."
Gretchen wanders through the ship, following a scent, perhaps, or a memory. Before long she finds her way to Callor's quarters, and the door open a crack. She slips through and finds the Neshobe fast asleep in bed already. Most unfortunate, perhaps, or fortunate. He won't yell at her if he's asleep. She goes to a desk across from his bed and deftly leaps atop it, and curls up in a position that allows her to face him, eyes wide open and glowing slightly in the darkness of the unlit room. The sun's starting to go down. It promises to be an interesting night.
End Chapter 2
(Next)
From: http://www.mspaforums.com/showthread.php?42524-Airships-Over-Aranor-Prose
We return to the Ekim and Charlotte. The narrational guessing game went somewhat badly, due to non-present narration, so the human asks instead. "So what's your name anyway?"
"They call me Shazak. What is next?"
"Next..well, I'm supposed to meet the others here. I guess we'll decide from there."
They don't have to wait long; Conall shows up with not one, but two more people. This is great news!
"Glad to see you're still here."
Charlotte grins. "Oh, I was just about to start looking for you. Now, you two. You're Leona, Khazu's friend, right?"
"Yep."
"She's an actress. You should get along fine. Leona, this is my sister Charlotte. And he's Terminus..you remember what I told you about the trip with Raoclem?"
"Is that the story with the explosive monkeys or the desperate battle with the teleporting mind-control pirates?"
"It is probably the second one. The first sounds made up. What about you?" He turns to the Ekim.
"Shazak."
"What is your soul-weapon? For strategic purposes in case we do end up walking into a nest of bandits. She did tell you what was actually going on, right?"
"Charlotte told me enough."
"..I didn't tell you my name."
"He just said it. And it is a, you call it...'metal crossbow'."
"Really? I have never heard of an Ekim with that before."
Shazak seems to pull something out of her left arm with her right hand, and then she is holding the weapon: an unusual metal crossbow. It has the scaly texture of a usual Ekim weapon, and two rather long barrels. "My elders were surprised as well. They had to hire an elf to teach me using it."
"So if I may ask, why are you interested in helping us with this..insane mission? It may not pay anything at all, other than injury."
"Well. I am a mercenary, under a year-long contract to a ship called Reliant. It is down now, thanks to an attack by some pirates led by a merman captain. I was surprised that he managed to hit us with exploding cannonballs and his crew had the courage to walk across a piece of wood latched between the ships, or swing across with roped hooks to get on board. He was surprised I was able to shoot them down before they could make it onto the Reliant. I was offered a bonus in pay for my service, which will leave me comfortably while the ship is being repaired. So I merely need something to do in that time. I do not like being bored."
Leona, watching this conversation, is somewhat curious what the Ekim is thinking. Rather, she is curious why she doesn't already know. Everyone else's surface thoughts seem to come in loud and clear, but Shazak doesn't appear to be thinking anything, at least not that loudly. That really ought to be a warning sign--but not to Leona.
Well, surface thoughts are still surface thoughts if you have to look at them actively, right? As long as there isn't any digging going on? Leona attempts to take a small peek.
----
"This is not a normal contract. I expec%&* @* $$ %well."
"I will make it worth your while. Simply *@&$* for a little while and your true m$^^#@"
"Suppose $#%@^ @^$#~ while I am bus%&$ %@#$em?"
"It makes no difference to me whether you or $^#@&, as long as your mark is #@%%."
"..This better not end like my last unusual contr@%$."
"It won't. Trust me, I won't be going anywhere for a long time. Listen, don't worry so much, have fun with it. It'll all work out in the end. Also...in case you're curious...oh who am I kidding, I know you are. I was the one wh%#%^%%&^#& @***********************"
----
That hurt. That really hurt. Not physically, but mentally. Leona now fully understands the meaning of mental pain, a very strange and nuanced thing that only Fylenis and victims of illegally-acting Fylenis ever tend to experience. And it hurts. Leona finds herself collapsed on the ground, the others asking if she is alright, and, having been sucked briefly into some kind of incomprehensible memory, she could hardly hold the concentration to place an illusion over her feline features.
Leona allows herself to be helped up by the Shadow Fang--Terminus--and brushes herself off. She looks at the Ekim, who seems mildly curious as to what just happened. Shazak probably knows Leona attempted to do something. "I am very sorry. I'll explain." She points to her ears. "You see these? I was recently given a partially Fylenis form by the Transformer, at my request. A Fylenis friend of mine told me about how to use my powers legally..but didn't warn me what would happen if I tried to use them to glance at an Ekim's thoughts. Sorry about that."
"...It is alright. Just do not attempt that again."
Leona rubs her forehead. "Trust me, I won't."
There is a brief, awkward silence. Charlotte will have none of that. "Well, in that case we should get going! And I was thinking, our party needs a name." (Awkward silence or just silence in general, take your pick.)
"It is close to sunset. Should we not gather supplies today, and rest tonight so we are better prepared for the journey."
"Pah! Who needs supplies?"
"...A group of six people going across wild terrain, likely monster-infested, looking for a tomb which may or may not exist. I know you are used to traveling incredibly light, but it pays to be prepared."
"..Oh all right." Anyone who thinks they know Conall and Charlotte would be surprised she agreed with him. Anyone who really knows them would find this no surprise at all.
So they did as Conall suggested, and eventually all were asleep in an affordable inn.
"Is this situation resolved? Can we go outside? I am not comfortable with tight spaces."
Ann looks at the dragon for a momoment of silence, in an effort to highlight the bad timing of the outburst. "..Do you have a training yard?"
"Yes," says the guard captain.
"Good. We plan there. Unless you'd rather not help with this?" This last part directed at the dragon.
"Why should I help you?"
"It's what I'm doing, if you want to stay with me. Don't dragons think of themselves as protectors of people?"
"...Sometimes."
"Well. Rixxan has hurt more people than most monsters ever will. And I think I know a way you can help that will hardly risk your injury."
"Alright, alright. I shall help this once."
Xach followed the arrest, since he was the only one who had already eaten. Now Whys and Edward join him near the guard barracks. "They haven't come out yet."
Hmm...Judging by what I hear from in there, Ann isn't under arrest anymore. She's agreed to help them capture a criminal or something.
"..Should we help her?"
....Nah. She can fend for herself. The dragon's still with her, and she even convinced her to help. They'll be fine. Let's find something else to do.
"Aye, Ewk White. Ain't surprised you don't remember, with all the weakling riffraff you 'ired around the same time."
Gretchen wanders through the ship, following a scent, perhaps, or a memory. Before long she finds her way to Callor's quarters, and the door open a crack. She slips through and finds the Neshobe fast asleep in bed already. Most unfortunate, perhaps, or fortunate. He won't yell at her if he's asleep. She goes to a desk across from his bed and deftly leaps atop it, and curls up in a position that allows her to face him, eyes wide open and glowing slightly in the darkness of the unlit room. The sun's starting to go down. It promises to be an interesting night.
End Chapter 2
(Next)
From: http://www.mspaforums.com/showthread.php?42524-Airships-Over-Aranor-Prose
Airships Over Aranor 17
(Prev)
"Where to..." Xach is looking around and thinking about the layout of Rysinth, places he knows in town, wondering what would be a good private location to go to. Completely missing the obvious.
"Can you not simply cloak what he says so nobody hears it but us?" Edward asks the Fylenis, who nods.
Thought you'd never ask. But I haven't eaten yet, and if I'm not mistaken neither have you..and it's easier to block the ears of a restaurant full of people than out in this crowd, anyway.
"Very well. Do you have somewhere in mind?"
Yes. I saw it on the way here with Leona, but we were busy then. Follow me. They proceed to follow Whys to an establishment which he actually recommended going to for one and only one reason. With Fylenis it's rarely about what or when, but who. But since this conversation is to be private, and he is especially curious about what Xach has to say, Whys subtly ensures that for now the party of two winged folks sitting at a table near the front is unnoticed by his two companions, and vice versa. This will prove to have been an incredibly wise decision, but the Fylenis doesn't know about that yet. They're mind-readers, not prophets.
Once everyone is properly seated and the others have ordered their food (Xach is still full, of course), attention is turned to the blindfolded Shadow Fang and he begins to tell. "First of all, my true name is Arozakim. It means something like 'eternal sight', or 'eyes that see forever'. I was named by Ichoneiji when he was unused to the title, but the verse which named me was kept from me for many, many years.
"For the first several years of my life, before my spell came, I could only see in black and white--no colors. I managed well enough with that. When my spell came, I still didn't see in color..not the way you do, I mean. At first it gave me a headache to see the way that I did--It looked like a bunch of pictures of different colors stacked one on top of another, each becoming the next color in sequence until it eventually disappeared from sight. I can see about two seconds into the future, and two seconds into the past...it's not as absolute as The Spirits' knowledge, as far as I know the spell predicts the future based on what I can see and hear in the present, and I was still surprised several times when I had it.
"Once I got used to it, my spell made me one of the best fighters and hunters in the camp. I was barely, hm..50 and people were saying once I matured I was a real candidate for the next alpha. But I wasn't impatient for that, I just kept up my work for the camp and helped out where I could.
"..One day Ichoneiji called me to his tent. He told me that I had been deceived by my parents, but so too had he. They had been careful not to think about it in his presence; the Spirits had finally revealed it to him only very recently. He told me in person, then and there, the wording and meaning of my naming verse. I'll not bore you with reciting it, but it had predicted the nature of my power, and the nature of my death. It said that I would be able to see my death coming, but unable, or maybe..unwilling, to stop it.
"I thanked him and left. I was furious with my parents, and blindfolded myself that day. It was not as good of quality a blindfold as this one, not as securely tied, and occasionally I could see small glimpses of things through it. That scared me to death. But it was what I had at the time. There were no other blind or willingly blindfolded in the camp at the time, other than Ichoneiji, and he was busy with his duties. This was before most of the others were born, so he had to handle the work of four Clans. I taught myself everything over again, without sight. I found out that I had been lazy, relying on my spell to get me through fighting and hunting, and I swore not to use the advantage again unless I or someone else really needed it. And, I'd rather not get killed soon either."
"So..your blindfold is insurance? So you will not die?"
"That, and a challenge to myself. I would take it off only if there is something worth risking my life over, which my normal ways of fighting wouldn't be enough for."
"And...that is why you keep it a secret.."
"Yes. Were I captured I could keep my eyes closed, but someone who knew why I wore this blindfold would have a reason to pry my eyes open."
So what does your second think of never seeing anything?
"He's a quiet one. Haven't heard from him in over a decade..huh?" Xach's attention is drawn to a commotion near the front end of the restaurant: Namely, a few of the town guard speaking roughly to a pair of guests who he could've sworn he didn't notice on the way in. People he knows. Xach starts to get up, but Whys puts out a hand to hold him down.
Hang on there buddy. Her thoughts are calm. She knows what's going on, and she has a plan. We'll all jump in if we're needed, but wait and see first. The motto of the Fylenis--or one of the mottos, at any rate.
We return to the two winged persons, but earlier. The food has finally come, after what Arizan assumes must be a normal time but what seemed like quite a while, and they are eating in that continuing awkward silence. It occurs to the dragon that plans should probably made as to what they are doing next, if they are to stick together for the moment. "So..do you have anything you need to do in this, town?"
"I have enough supplies. I don't know anyone here. Go to the inn and sleep. You?"
"This was an, unplanned trip. I would like to take another look around the city."
"Curious?" Arizan doesn't notice the woman in uniform looking in the window and quickly dashing away. Ann does. She is used to this kind of attention every now and then.
"..A little." They eat the rest of the meal in silence, and Ann pays the bill with a few coins from her purse. They are both standing up and about to leave when three people in uniform, including the woman the dragon didn't notice before, burst in and start shouting at Ann. Ann looks mildly annoyed but perfectly fine with this situation. Arizan is less than pleased.
"--You are under arrest!"
"--Hands up!"
"--Where I can see them."
"--Come with us."
"--You too."
One of the soldiers has a crossbow trained on Ann, another has poked her a couple of times with his staff. They are considerably more hesitant about prodding the dragon, but Ann nods to her in an effor to communicate that she should cooperate. Then again, she doesn't have anywhere to be hiding weapons or the like anyway. In fairly short order Ann's axe is taken, no other weapons found on her, and the two are led away to the guardsmans' barracks. Somewhere along the way the dragon starts to demand what's going on, but Ann shoots her a look and says only two words: "Stay. Quiet." The guards might be suspicious about someone who would rather do all the talking, but they are too relieved that that someone is able to keep the dragon cooperating and not burning their faces off to care very much.
Once they reach the building, the two are escorted to the guard captain's office. They haven't put up any resistance so far, so they aren't bound, but the guardsmen who took them in remainin in the room, at the back, in case they try anything funny. For a good minute or so the guard captain and the two winged women sit in an awkward silence not unlike that of the restaurant, but far more palpable for a lack of other conversations in the same room. The captain seems a little perplexed about how to address the addition of a dragon to the situation. Eventually Ann opens the floor for discussion. "Why am I here." It's barely a question, more a rehearsed line of an unwilling participant in some officiating ceremony. The captain knows exactly how to answer the question, and pulls out a small-reward wanted poster.
"You are Annabel Mattenson. You look exactly like this picture. You are wanted as a member of the Fox Bandits, who have recently resurfaced in the nearby area."
"How old is that."
"Ten years."
"It's out of date. I gave myself up and served time in Rithara eight years ago."
"Then how do you explain--"
"Self-defense. There is no poison on it. I work for a privateer ship. The Farran. Conall Morgan Reynolds. He has no knowledge. Defending said ship from a pirate attack. We met recently. Long, unnecessary story." The guard captain is somewhat taken aback, but nods after a moment: She's answered every question he was about to ask. And now he's at a loss again, having apparently arrested a completely innocent civilian and with nothing to really show for it.
"You want to catch them?"
"Who?"
"Bandits. Still led by Rixxan?"
"..Yes, according to our reports."
"I know how he works. I can help."
Back at the Gran Daora, Verra finishes her own version of what happened in the attack. It's basically the same as Conall's or Xach's, but with a slightly higher opinion of Verra's skills peppered throughout. If Bernard wants the 'unedited truth' he can figure it out for himself--if he hasn't already. Then she notices something. "Saaaaaaaay, your cat's gone again."
"Oops, must have lost a hold of her. Well, she can't be too far. Now, let me see..I know you take your vengeance very seriously."
"You can bet aaaaaaaall your money on that. But not against me."
"Heh, of course. But I must say, this...unpleasant turn of events must have shown you what happens when your crew is no good, and your enemy is good enough."
"Indeed it has. What are you suggesting?"
"Well, loyalty isn't unheard of among pirates. You and Callor have something good going."
"Are you suggesting--"
"No, be quiet." A brief, tense pause. But Verra wouldn't dare lash out at him, ever. It would be foolish. "All I am saying is that you have him well under control. You don't have to threaten to throw him off the ship if he disobeys your orders, because he isn't going to do that. You were even able to use him to act as the instrument of your lucky escape, though it cost him a few days of sight."
"Mm-hm. And..?"
"Well, what if you had that sort of thing multiplied by two? Or three? Maybe five, or six..your chances would be better, that's for certain."
"Why not seven or eight?"
"Indeed, why not! You need only find as many people who are willing to stick with you. No more of this picking up stray, outcast and babe pirates and impressing them into service; you deserve quality crewmen! Am I right or am I right?"
"When you put it that way, you're reight."
"Great, I knew it. And in fact, I believe I already have one candidate for you. It seems to me you had already managed to find a diamond in the rough for your last crew. He was crazy enough to come back, anyway.." Bernard waves to someone in the trees, who jumps down.
"Oy." It's the elf with the knives. She always kind of liked the elf with the knives. What was his name again?
(Next)
From: http://www.mspaforums.com/showthread.php?42524-Airships-Over-Aranor-Prose
"Where to..." Xach is looking around and thinking about the layout of Rysinth, places he knows in town, wondering what would be a good private location to go to. Completely missing the obvious.
"Can you not simply cloak what he says so nobody hears it but us?" Edward asks the Fylenis, who nods.
Thought you'd never ask. But I haven't eaten yet, and if I'm not mistaken neither have you..and it's easier to block the ears of a restaurant full of people than out in this crowd, anyway.
"Very well. Do you have somewhere in mind?"
Yes. I saw it on the way here with Leona, but we were busy then. Follow me. They proceed to follow Whys to an establishment which he actually recommended going to for one and only one reason. With Fylenis it's rarely about what or when, but who. But since this conversation is to be private, and he is especially curious about what Xach has to say, Whys subtly ensures that for now the party of two winged folks sitting at a table near the front is unnoticed by his two companions, and vice versa. This will prove to have been an incredibly wise decision, but the Fylenis doesn't know about that yet. They're mind-readers, not prophets.
Once everyone is properly seated and the others have ordered their food (Xach is still full, of course), attention is turned to the blindfolded Shadow Fang and he begins to tell. "First of all, my true name is Arozakim. It means something like 'eternal sight', or 'eyes that see forever'. I was named by Ichoneiji when he was unused to the title, but the verse which named me was kept from me for many, many years.
"For the first several years of my life, before my spell came, I could only see in black and white--no colors. I managed well enough with that. When my spell came, I still didn't see in color..not the way you do, I mean. At first it gave me a headache to see the way that I did--It looked like a bunch of pictures of different colors stacked one on top of another, each becoming the next color in sequence until it eventually disappeared from sight. I can see about two seconds into the future, and two seconds into the past...it's not as absolute as The Spirits' knowledge, as far as I know the spell predicts the future based on what I can see and hear in the present, and I was still surprised several times when I had it.
"Once I got used to it, my spell made me one of the best fighters and hunters in the camp. I was barely, hm..50 and people were saying once I matured I was a real candidate for the next alpha. But I wasn't impatient for that, I just kept up my work for the camp and helped out where I could.
"..One day Ichoneiji called me to his tent. He told me that I had been deceived by my parents, but so too had he. They had been careful not to think about it in his presence; the Spirits had finally revealed it to him only very recently. He told me in person, then and there, the wording and meaning of my naming verse. I'll not bore you with reciting it, but it had predicted the nature of my power, and the nature of my death. It said that I would be able to see my death coming, but unable, or maybe..unwilling, to stop it.
"I thanked him and left. I was furious with my parents, and blindfolded myself that day. It was not as good of quality a blindfold as this one, not as securely tied, and occasionally I could see small glimpses of things through it. That scared me to death. But it was what I had at the time. There were no other blind or willingly blindfolded in the camp at the time, other than Ichoneiji, and he was busy with his duties. This was before most of the others were born, so he had to handle the work of four Clans. I taught myself everything over again, without sight. I found out that I had been lazy, relying on my spell to get me through fighting and hunting, and I swore not to use the advantage again unless I or someone else really needed it. And, I'd rather not get killed soon either."
"So..your blindfold is insurance? So you will not die?"
"That, and a challenge to myself. I would take it off only if there is something worth risking my life over, which my normal ways of fighting wouldn't be enough for."
"And...that is why you keep it a secret.."
"Yes. Were I captured I could keep my eyes closed, but someone who knew why I wore this blindfold would have a reason to pry my eyes open."
So what does your second think of never seeing anything?
"He's a quiet one. Haven't heard from him in over a decade..huh?" Xach's attention is drawn to a commotion near the front end of the restaurant: Namely, a few of the town guard speaking roughly to a pair of guests who he could've sworn he didn't notice on the way in. People he knows. Xach starts to get up, but Whys puts out a hand to hold him down.
Hang on there buddy. Her thoughts are calm. She knows what's going on, and she has a plan. We'll all jump in if we're needed, but wait and see first. The motto of the Fylenis--or one of the mottos, at any rate.
We return to the two winged persons, but earlier. The food has finally come, after what Arizan assumes must be a normal time but what seemed like quite a while, and they are eating in that continuing awkward silence. It occurs to the dragon that plans should probably made as to what they are doing next, if they are to stick together for the moment. "So..do you have anything you need to do in this, town?"
"I have enough supplies. I don't know anyone here. Go to the inn and sleep. You?"
"This was an, unplanned trip. I would like to take another look around the city."
"Curious?" Arizan doesn't notice the woman in uniform looking in the window and quickly dashing away. Ann does. She is used to this kind of attention every now and then.
"..A little." They eat the rest of the meal in silence, and Ann pays the bill with a few coins from her purse. They are both standing up and about to leave when three people in uniform, including the woman the dragon didn't notice before, burst in and start shouting at Ann. Ann looks mildly annoyed but perfectly fine with this situation. Arizan is less than pleased.
"--You are under arrest!"
"--Hands up!"
"--Where I can see them."
"--Come with us."
"--You too."
One of the soldiers has a crossbow trained on Ann, another has poked her a couple of times with his staff. They are considerably more hesitant about prodding the dragon, but Ann nods to her in an effor to communicate that she should cooperate. Then again, she doesn't have anywhere to be hiding weapons or the like anyway. In fairly short order Ann's axe is taken, no other weapons found on her, and the two are led away to the guardsmans' barracks. Somewhere along the way the dragon starts to demand what's going on, but Ann shoots her a look and says only two words: "Stay. Quiet." The guards might be suspicious about someone who would rather do all the talking, but they are too relieved that that someone is able to keep the dragon cooperating and not burning their faces off to care very much.
Once they reach the building, the two are escorted to the guard captain's office. They haven't put up any resistance so far, so they aren't bound, but the guardsmen who took them in remainin in the room, at the back, in case they try anything funny. For a good minute or so the guard captain and the two winged women sit in an awkward silence not unlike that of the restaurant, but far more palpable for a lack of other conversations in the same room. The captain seems a little perplexed about how to address the addition of a dragon to the situation. Eventually Ann opens the floor for discussion. "Why am I here." It's barely a question, more a rehearsed line of an unwilling participant in some officiating ceremony. The captain knows exactly how to answer the question, and pulls out a small-reward wanted poster.
"You are Annabel Mattenson. You look exactly like this picture. You are wanted as a member of the Fox Bandits, who have recently resurfaced in the nearby area."
"How old is that."
"Ten years."
"It's out of date. I gave myself up and served time in Rithara eight years ago."
"Then how do you explain--"
"Self-defense. There is no poison on it. I work for a privateer ship. The Farran. Conall Morgan Reynolds. He has no knowledge. Defending said ship from a pirate attack. We met recently. Long, unnecessary story." The guard captain is somewhat taken aback, but nods after a moment: She's answered every question he was about to ask. And now he's at a loss again, having apparently arrested a completely innocent civilian and with nothing to really show for it.
"You want to catch them?"
"Who?"
"Bandits. Still led by Rixxan?"
"..Yes, according to our reports."
"I know how he works. I can help."
Back at the Gran Daora, Verra finishes her own version of what happened in the attack. It's basically the same as Conall's or Xach's, but with a slightly higher opinion of Verra's skills peppered throughout. If Bernard wants the 'unedited truth' he can figure it out for himself--if he hasn't already. Then she notices something. "Saaaaaaaay, your cat's gone again."
"Oops, must have lost a hold of her. Well, she can't be too far. Now, let me see..I know you take your vengeance very seriously."
"You can bet aaaaaaaall your money on that. But not against me."
"Heh, of course. But I must say, this...unpleasant turn of events must have shown you what happens when your crew is no good, and your enemy is good enough."
"Indeed it has. What are you suggesting?"
"Well, loyalty isn't unheard of among pirates. You and Callor have something good going."
"Are you suggesting--"
"No, be quiet." A brief, tense pause. But Verra wouldn't dare lash out at him, ever. It would be foolish. "All I am saying is that you have him well under control. You don't have to threaten to throw him off the ship if he disobeys your orders, because he isn't going to do that. You were even able to use him to act as the instrument of your lucky escape, though it cost him a few days of sight."
"Mm-hm. And..?"
"Well, what if you had that sort of thing multiplied by two? Or three? Maybe five, or six..your chances would be better, that's for certain."
"Why not seven or eight?"
"Indeed, why not! You need only find as many people who are willing to stick with you. No more of this picking up stray, outcast and babe pirates and impressing them into service; you deserve quality crewmen! Am I right or am I right?"
"When you put it that way, you're reight."
"Great, I knew it. And in fact, I believe I already have one candidate for you. It seems to me you had already managed to find a diamond in the rough for your last crew. He was crazy enough to come back, anyway.." Bernard waves to someone in the trees, who jumps down.
"Oy." It's the elf with the knives. She always kind of liked the elf with the knives. What was his name again?
(Next)
From: http://www.mspaforums.com/showthread.php?42524-Airships-Over-Aranor-Prose
Airships Over Aranor 16
(Prev)
Xach finally responds after a few seconds. "..Next time we're on Magis, I'll have to pay my respects. Depending on how long he meant."
You won't even take off the blindfold to see a blood moon?
"That would be foolish of me."
Even Kalzen was willing to risk that much. What's different about you? Kalzen, or "the green bard" as he self-nicknamed, was a Neshobe of a similar mixed heritage to that of Arozi. His green was a more vibrant, bright color; it is now known that he suffered from a brain disorder by which bright flashes of light would give him seizures. His name means 'dancer', and he was one of the greatest musicians, poets, and writers who ever lived. There is hardly an artist who would not love to be compared to him. An elf friend placed a special enchantment on his eyes at one point which allowed him to make them blind when he wished, and see when he wished; he risked seeing often enough to keep a journal of his travels, and witness a few momentous events, but it is suspected he died from a particularly reckless unblinding in the middle of a fight or something.
"Hmm. I still haven't told you about my spell, have I. I think you two have earned that much trust from me..but I don't want just anyone to hear this, so we should go somewhere private first."
The trail is just about cold. Some people seem to have seen Leona and her companion go one way, some another, and some still a third direction. Whys isn't paranoid enough to stay completely invisible, but he doesn't exactly enjoy being followed, either. Conall and Khazu stop on the edge of a street corner, in the shade, to rest a moment.
"I do not think we are going to get anywhere with this. Unless someone has seen her since then--whoa!" Conall stumbles backwards from the sudden appearance of someone he knows--or has met once before, at least. It's another Neshobe of the Shadow Fang Clan; his fur has a pattern of bright fur with darker spots, and his clothing is the rough, tattered look of an older era..or more traditional methods of clothesmaking at least. He growls something in Neshoban which Conall understandably doesn't understand.
The Neshoba have two languages, really. One of them, the one they use in names, is actually a mutated infantile form of ancient Draconic language; anyone could learn it with practice and indeed many have, for it has many uses. The other, however, seems more naturally descended, and consists of canine sounds that most other races find quite impossible to imitate, and extremely difficult to properly understand. Neshoba, however, even those who weren't exactly taught the langauge, seem to have no trouble speaking and understanding it. It's possible there is some magic involved in its use. Conall knows basically why this particular Neshobe is speaking in the language that he is, but it makes it no less confusing.
He keeps on talking. "Uh..Khazu, could you tell me what he is trying to say?"
"I can try, sir. <Would you start over, I didn't hear the first part.>" For future reference, words in angle brackets (<,>) denote languages other than common; context should make it obvious which one.
"<Oh! Sorry. I forgot that he couldn't..Please tell him I can understand now.>"
"I think he's saying he can understand Common?" The stranger nods. "<But why not speak it then?>"
"<It is forbidden. I can only speak this until I am mature.>"
Conall can guess what was asked and said. "Well, it has been a while since I've seen you. Good to see they didn't keep you in prison too long."
"..He thanks you for that...uh..and says that he needs to atone properly for..his mistake. He also wants to know if 'Seeing Forever' is near."
(To Khazu) "He means Xach." (To the Neshobe) "I sent him off on shore leave, he's in town but might be difficult to find. What is this about atonement? I told you it was all right."
"He says..that is a shame, he wanted to see him again. Some other time though. And, he knows you are satisfied but he cannot..continue his journey...until he has actually repaid you for the damage by some service. What is he talking about, if I may ask?"
"I suppose I should explain. Khazu, this is..Terminus. He has a spell that allows him to instantly go from one place to another, and he only speaks in Neshoban. He did not understand Common the last time I met him, and had been fooled by a certain pirate captain into believing it was a peacekeeper vessel attacking pirates. Including us. Xach set him straight and he left her service for good." Terminus nods to just about every part of the description. "He is from a somewhat conservative camp of Shadow Fang, but is not allowed to officially leave them or speak other languages until spiritually mature. Is that right?" Terminus nods again. "And, also according to their laws, you have to repay me with something before you can continue that journey." Another nod.
Neshoba recognize three different kinds of maturity: physical, mental, and a word that doesn't quite mean the same thing but which I translate 'spiritual'. Physical maturity is exactly the same as with humans; mental maturity differs from Clan to Clan, and sometimes even from camp to camp, pack to pack, even from family to family in some cases. It generally involves having the knowledge to survive in the world on one's own; it is how this is determined that differs so widely. Spiritual maturity is the most important by far, and the most difficult, and on this matter all members of a single Clan tend to agree on at least very similar tests. For the record, Khazu is not regarded as spiritually mature by the Black Earth's method of testing though he is by the Blue Tail; he can still claim the rights of a mature one but still means to attain the other Clan's maturity before doing so. Callor has also passed the Blue Tail's test, and it was the product of this test which got him Verra's attention in the first place.
Anyway, back to the conversation. Terminus says something else.
"He says he just saw someone who looks like who we are looking for from a rooftop, and...do you want to go?"
"Yes. Remain calm, Khazu. And hang on." Rather than explain, Conall grabs Khazu's arm and takes an offered arm of the other Neshobe. And then, instantly, they are standing on the roof of a house, and then just as quickly, a different street corner. Khazu is understandably shaken. Conall quickly puts out a magical fire on his hands (which he fortunately pulled away from the others before they could get burned) and wipes them against his clothes out of habit. "Yes, I do not think I shall ever be used that either." Terminus, meanwhile, points toward a woman they both recognize, even from the back.
A shame that performance had to be cut short. But he doesn't want to get tangled up in our fight, and I don't really blame him. It's hard to get out of the claws of a love triangle, after all...
Leona is considerably less angry than Arozi about the recent confrontation and even its ending. She now wanders the streets for the moment, practicing a few of the mental magic simplifying techniques Whys showed her. She picks up on a few stray surface thoughts--which are quite legal to listen in on. There are all sorts of rumors, and just as many people who can think of nothing but their jobs, nothing but what they are going to do within the next ten minutes. It's truly fascinating. She's so busy listening to the voices from minds that she almost misses one from her ears.
"..Leona!" Turning to the source of the voice, she finds Conall, a Neshobe she doesn't recognize..and her good friend Khazu. How cute, he's waving at her.
"Hello there, dears." She strides over to the three. "Well, it's good to see you didn't get eaten up by monsters or anything."
"It's good to see you as well." He has a tendency to forget honorific language toward Leona. Fortunately she doesn't seem to mind to much. "Uh, did you--oh!" She drops the illusion on her ears and tail for the three. "That is impressive, m-milady. Exactly what you said you wanted."
"Yes, it is. Now what brings you two here...you, I don't think I've met?" The unfamiliar one growls something in Neshoban, but she is able to pick up on it through the universal translator known as surface thoughts, only available to Fylenis and their friends.
"<I am 'The Ways'. I owe the man a repayment for error.>" Neshoban language lacks the ability to directly translate names of people and races, as well as a number of concepts related to technology such as buildings and doors, but the thought as well as context clearly indicate he means Conall.
"My sister wants us to go on a trip to a tomb that may or may not exist, and may actually be a trap set by or for a gang of bandits for treasure seekers.
"Heheh, and you'd rather not, I take it?"
"Yes. But you know how she is, and the Farran's grounded at the moment so I can't use that as an excuse."
"Played like a ball of yarn, Captain Reynolds. Well you can count me in, I was just looking for something to do anyway. Were you roped into this, too?" she asks Khazu.
"I-I would be honored to help."
"That is a yes." Conall looks at Terminus. "I don't suppose helping us find her is enough atonement for you." He shakes his head. "You may as well come with us on this too, then. If it is as much trouble as it usually is I think it should be more than enough.
"We are supposed to meet at the last place we saw Charlotte..provided she's still there. I shall lead."
(Next)
From: http://www.mspaforums.com/showthread.php?42524-Airships-Over-Aranor-Prose
Xach finally responds after a few seconds. "..Next time we're on Magis, I'll have to pay my respects. Depending on how long he meant."
You won't even take off the blindfold to see a blood moon?
"That would be foolish of me."
Even Kalzen was willing to risk that much. What's different about you? Kalzen, or "the green bard" as he self-nicknamed, was a Neshobe of a similar mixed heritage to that of Arozi. His green was a more vibrant, bright color; it is now known that he suffered from a brain disorder by which bright flashes of light would give him seizures. His name means 'dancer', and he was one of the greatest musicians, poets, and writers who ever lived. There is hardly an artist who would not love to be compared to him. An elf friend placed a special enchantment on his eyes at one point which allowed him to make them blind when he wished, and see when he wished; he risked seeing often enough to keep a journal of his travels, and witness a few momentous events, but it is suspected he died from a particularly reckless unblinding in the middle of a fight or something.
"Hmm. I still haven't told you about my spell, have I. I think you two have earned that much trust from me..but I don't want just anyone to hear this, so we should go somewhere private first."
The trail is just about cold. Some people seem to have seen Leona and her companion go one way, some another, and some still a third direction. Whys isn't paranoid enough to stay completely invisible, but he doesn't exactly enjoy being followed, either. Conall and Khazu stop on the edge of a street corner, in the shade, to rest a moment.
"I do not think we are going to get anywhere with this. Unless someone has seen her since then--whoa!" Conall stumbles backwards from the sudden appearance of someone he knows--or has met once before, at least. It's another Neshobe of the Shadow Fang Clan; his fur has a pattern of bright fur with darker spots, and his clothing is the rough, tattered look of an older era..or more traditional methods of clothesmaking at least. He growls something in Neshoban which Conall understandably doesn't understand.
The Neshoba have two languages, really. One of them, the one they use in names, is actually a mutated infantile form of ancient Draconic language; anyone could learn it with practice and indeed many have, for it has many uses. The other, however, seems more naturally descended, and consists of canine sounds that most other races find quite impossible to imitate, and extremely difficult to properly understand. Neshoba, however, even those who weren't exactly taught the langauge, seem to have no trouble speaking and understanding it. It's possible there is some magic involved in its use. Conall knows basically why this particular Neshobe is speaking in the language that he is, but it makes it no less confusing.
He keeps on talking. "Uh..Khazu, could you tell me what he is trying to say?"
"I can try, sir. <Would you start over, I didn't hear the first part.>" For future reference, words in angle brackets (<,>) denote languages other than common; context should make it obvious which one.
"<Oh! Sorry. I forgot that he couldn't..Please tell him I can understand now.>"
"I think he's saying he can understand Common?" The stranger nods. "<But why not speak it then?>"
"<It is forbidden. I can only speak this until I am mature.>"
Conall can guess what was asked and said. "Well, it has been a while since I've seen you. Good to see they didn't keep you in prison too long."
"..He thanks you for that...uh..and says that he needs to atone properly for..his mistake. He also wants to know if 'Seeing Forever' is near."
(To Khazu) "He means Xach." (To the Neshobe) "I sent him off on shore leave, he's in town but might be difficult to find. What is this about atonement? I told you it was all right."
"He says..that is a shame, he wanted to see him again. Some other time though. And, he knows you are satisfied but he cannot..continue his journey...until he has actually repaid you for the damage by some service. What is he talking about, if I may ask?"
"I suppose I should explain. Khazu, this is..Terminus. He has a spell that allows him to instantly go from one place to another, and he only speaks in Neshoban. He did not understand Common the last time I met him, and had been fooled by a certain pirate captain into believing it was a peacekeeper vessel attacking pirates. Including us. Xach set him straight and he left her service for good." Terminus nods to just about every part of the description. "He is from a somewhat conservative camp of Shadow Fang, but is not allowed to officially leave them or speak other languages until spiritually mature. Is that right?" Terminus nods again. "And, also according to their laws, you have to repay me with something before you can continue that journey." Another nod.
Neshoba recognize three different kinds of maturity: physical, mental, and a word that doesn't quite mean the same thing but which I translate 'spiritual'. Physical maturity is exactly the same as with humans; mental maturity differs from Clan to Clan, and sometimes even from camp to camp, pack to pack, even from family to family in some cases. It generally involves having the knowledge to survive in the world on one's own; it is how this is determined that differs so widely. Spiritual maturity is the most important by far, and the most difficult, and on this matter all members of a single Clan tend to agree on at least very similar tests. For the record, Khazu is not regarded as spiritually mature by the Black Earth's method of testing though he is by the Blue Tail; he can still claim the rights of a mature one but still means to attain the other Clan's maturity before doing so. Callor has also passed the Blue Tail's test, and it was the product of this test which got him Verra's attention in the first place.
Anyway, back to the conversation. Terminus says something else.
"He says he just saw someone who looks like who we are looking for from a rooftop, and...do you want to go?"
"Yes. Remain calm, Khazu. And hang on." Rather than explain, Conall grabs Khazu's arm and takes an offered arm of the other Neshobe. And then, instantly, they are standing on the roof of a house, and then just as quickly, a different street corner. Khazu is understandably shaken. Conall quickly puts out a magical fire on his hands (which he fortunately pulled away from the others before they could get burned) and wipes them against his clothes out of habit. "Yes, I do not think I shall ever be used that either." Terminus, meanwhile, points toward a woman they both recognize, even from the back.
A shame that performance had to be cut short. But he doesn't want to get tangled up in our fight, and I don't really blame him. It's hard to get out of the claws of a love triangle, after all...
Leona is considerably less angry than Arozi about the recent confrontation and even its ending. She now wanders the streets for the moment, practicing a few of the mental magic simplifying techniques Whys showed her. She picks up on a few stray surface thoughts--which are quite legal to listen in on. There are all sorts of rumors, and just as many people who can think of nothing but their jobs, nothing but what they are going to do within the next ten minutes. It's truly fascinating. She's so busy listening to the voices from minds that she almost misses one from her ears.
"..Leona!" Turning to the source of the voice, she finds Conall, a Neshobe she doesn't recognize..and her good friend Khazu. How cute, he's waving at her.
"Hello there, dears." She strides over to the three. "Well, it's good to see you didn't get eaten up by monsters or anything."
"It's good to see you as well." He has a tendency to forget honorific language toward Leona. Fortunately she doesn't seem to mind to much. "Uh, did you--oh!" She drops the illusion on her ears and tail for the three. "That is impressive, m-milady. Exactly what you said you wanted."
"Yes, it is. Now what brings you two here...you, I don't think I've met?" The unfamiliar one growls something in Neshoban, but she is able to pick up on it through the universal translator known as surface thoughts, only available to Fylenis and their friends.
"<I am 'The Ways'. I owe the man a repayment for error.>" Neshoban language lacks the ability to directly translate names of people and races, as well as a number of concepts related to technology such as buildings and doors, but the thought as well as context clearly indicate he means Conall.
"My sister wants us to go on a trip to a tomb that may or may not exist, and may actually be a trap set by or for a gang of bandits for treasure seekers.
"Heheh, and you'd rather not, I take it?"
"Yes. But you know how she is, and the Farran's grounded at the moment so I can't use that as an excuse."
"Played like a ball of yarn, Captain Reynolds. Well you can count me in, I was just looking for something to do anyway. Were you roped into this, too?" she asks Khazu.
"I-I would be honored to help."
"That is a yes." Conall looks at Terminus. "I don't suppose helping us find her is enough atonement for you." He shakes his head. "You may as well come with us on this too, then. If it is as much trouble as it usually is I think it should be more than enough.
"We are supposed to meet at the last place we saw Charlotte..provided she's still there. I shall lead."
(Next)
From: http://www.mspaforums.com/showthread.php?42524-Airships-Over-Aranor-Prose
Airships Over Aranor 15
(Prev)
We rejoin Leona and Whys quite some time after our last view of them. Presently they are walking along the street, Whys concluding his basic practical tutorial on the legal use of Fylenis powers, or at least those actions she is powerful enough to perform. Or I should say, he's just now finished. And they come upon a certain tavern.
Leona glances through the windows of the tavern and quickly ducks back. "Say. Would you mind joining me in a little act?"
"Well, that depends on who I'm supposed to play."
"Do you know Karua?"
"Well, I did meet him once or twice. I know what he looks like at any rate." Whys' illusion flickers a few times and switches to the Red Claw Neshobe's likeness: Maroon-dyed fur, tinted eyeglasses and all. "But I don't think I could play the part all that convincingly," he adds.
"Just let me do the talking then, dear. Just look grumpy and mutter or yell about fire."
"Like this?" Whys momentarily individualizes an illusion for Leona in which he shouts: "FLAMING SON OF A BURNT STICK!"
"That'll be perfect," Leona laughs. "Now, I think our audience is already on the way out. Play along."
The conversation between Xach and Arozi has gone quite predictably, he having related the story of how the crew of the Farran almost killed Captain Verra Kriset. It's the kind of story one doesn't forget after experiencing. Whatever other conversation they had after that was not terribly important or interesting, so we move on to their walking out of the tavern, about to part ways. Arozi takes a whiff of the air around them, and abruptly turns in a particular direction. Without the benefit of a bizarre sight-smell ability, Xach has to infer what is she 'sees', because for the moment he is only really aware of her storming in the direction of two people.
"What are you doing--Karua, what is she doing here?"
The man hesitates to answer, and the woman jumps at the question before he can recover. "No need to get your hackles up, dear, he was just showing me around town."
"You've been to this town more times than he has! Why is her arm around yours?"
"Uh--"
"Dear, I don't know if you know it but it's customary for a gentleman to lead a lady around by the arm. Isn't that right?"
"Sure. Yeah."
"..You stop answering for him. Karua, what are you doing in Rysinth? The last time I saw you you said you were planning to stay on Magis for the next decade."
"Is it too much for a guy to change his flaming mind every once in a while?"
"Really? How's your scar doing?"
"Which one do you mean?"
"The one on your wrist. Right here." And with that, the noise of her punching him in the face, eyeglasses breaking.
"OW! Okay, okay, I didn't know it was that personal. You can count me out, lady." The Shadow Fang notices that instead of the stranger leaving, he just walks up next to Xach and stands there to watch.
"What are you even trying to do?"
"I just wanted to know how you might respond to the very real possibility that Karua would prefer my company to yours."
"He's in love with me."
"Is he really? I thought he hated everyone. I hardly think you have the experience to warm a cold heart like that."
"Nobody needs your kind of experience!"
"My dear, if you mean to impinge my honor I have only one way to respond to that." Said response seems to involve unsheathing a sword.
"STOP CALLING ME THAT!" The noise of metal on metal: Arozi's using her own weapon, but it doesn't sound like she's deployed the blade or spike on it. She starts using the same kind of clicking sounds Xach usually uses to judge her opponent's position, and as a result he, too, can more clearly perceive the battle.
The elf starts an overly theatrical swing at Arozi's side, which she blocks with a straight hit, and holds the cane against the sword hard, trying to knock the latter loose. The other woman rapidly swings the sword away from the cane and brings it in an arc around the Neshobe's head, swinging as if to hit her neck before suddenly drawing back; Arozi's cane would have been just barely in time to save her throat, but now she's holding it awkwardly.
She isn't given time to recover; the woman makes a downward chop, forcing Arozi to duck aside, and once the sword is low to the ground she swings it at Arozi's feet. The cane stabs the ground, blocking the sword, and Arozi recovers a firm grip. Then she aims another hard strike in an effort to clock the woman in the head; she blocks with the sword and slides it along the cane, moving close to the hand holding it and forcing Arozi to step back.
Xach has barely had time by this point to wonder whether he should step in. But the elf doesn't seem particularly intent on actually cutting Arozi, just in producing a bunch of near-misses. And, for as well-trained as he knows her to be, Arozi is clearly outclassed in skill here, and probably won't be hurting her either, barring a lucky strike. It doesn't help that she's angry and her opponent calm. The fight goes on for only a few more seconds, however, before someone else steps in.
Okay, I think that's quite enough of that. All at once Whys' illusion reverts to the ordinary 'average-looking person' shape, and each combatant perceives the other dodging around all her present attacks and running away--in opposite directions. Each chases after the illusory opponent for a good few minutes (thanks to some clever directional decision to keep them in Whys' "reach") before the illusion disappears, leaving her far away from the real thing.
Whys turns to Xach. Sorry, I didn't know what Leona was up to but I didn't expect that.
"It's fine. We were just about to separate anyway."
Hm..I think I forgot to warn her about the Ekim.
"What of them?"
Oh, Leona recently gained some Fylens powers, long story. I was teaching her a few simple things about her powers, and the law, and marking her as my territory to lower the risk of any..."overzealous" enforcers doing something nasty. But Ekim are..different. We technically can read their minds like everyone else, but their souls are hard and sharp. It's like the difference between strolling into a building and walking into a dense jungle--if you know what you're getting yourself into, and you're careful and skilled enough you'll probably be okay, but otherwise it can really hurt. He pauses a moment. Oh well, what are the chances she'll meet one anytime soon anyway? Then Edward arrives, looking a little out of breath.
Let's back up a little bit. Edward, now walking quickly toward the tavern, considers possible reasons for the misinformation involving the dragon. The trick to Raoclem's way of telling the future is that he is invariably accurate in what he says, but what he says is usually quite vague. Predicting a bleeding moon in no uncertain terms, in a public place no less, simply isn't something he would do if there were no truth to it. It's hard to be vague about that sort of thing, other than the timing--but even given that it is the truth, he obviously brought it up to send Edward away before he could notice that the excuse about the dragon made no sense. The best conclusion is that Raoclem wanted them to meet the dragon for some reason...the prophecy he related to the dragon is the only remaining clue.
The first half is of no use other than identifying the Farran. The second half, however, is more interesting:
Your life or death, dragon of fire, hold its crew in their hands,
Though ignorant of the task set before them, they would do it all the same.
The two lines need not be related--the task they are to do need not have anything to do with Arizan whatsoever. The first and second phrases' meaning may be reversed: The dragon's life or death may be a choice whose decision holds the crew in its hands. That doesn't mean she is in any danger right now, but it means that if she were in danger it would probably be in their best interests to help her out. Unless it means that their lives are at greater risk with the dragon alive, but...while Raoclem's prophecies have a tendency of causing trouble, they have never outright prescribed murder when understood correctly.
The only task so far that the crew of the Farran has had set before them, which they were initially ignorant of but would do all the same, was the defense of the ship. Against Verra. Was their task to protect some other ship by acting as bait, given Verra's propensity for seeking vengeance? No, nothing related to the prophecy or its results seems to have effected the attack. Barring the interference of a third party, this was something that was going to happen anyway. There must be another task in the future, or at least it is very likely that there is. Perhaps he wants them to find out what it is on their own? The only real conclusion Edward can draw before he arrives at the tavern and find Whys and Xach there is that prophecy is confusing.
"Xach. There you are."
"So I am. What happened to you?"
"I met Raoclem, or rather he intentionally made certain I came upon him. He said a few things, not all of which I can account for, but most importantly he predicted a blood moon coming."
Did you give him a good punch for Conall? interjects the Fylenis while Xach is busy processing the information.
"Yes. Actually, he seemed to be expecting me to."
A shame, that.
Meanwhile, Conall and the Neshobe seek the latter's friend. They come upon a tavern where the barkeeper says someone matching her description played a harp in there a while ago, then left with a man who seemed to be her friend. His description of the friend is considerably more vague than that of the girl, and it doesn't exactly match a description given by a bar patron who was also present at the time. Once they leave, Conall says, "Her friend was a Fylenis. Might have been Whys, actually." Khazu nods, and they head off in the direction the pair were seen to turn after leaving the tavern.
Again meanwhile, though perhaps a bit later, somewhere in the middle of a forest less than a day's walk away from the outer edge of Rysinth is a wrecked though not too badly damaged ship. The crash landing was as careful as it could have been, only took down a few trees, and thankfully nothing is smoking or on fire. The wood is thick enough to hide the ship from aerial view, so for the moment there is nothing to be worried about.
The Neshobe's clothes are lightly singed, but his eyes are the worst off. They look as if they had soot glued to them, all pitch black and clearly unseeing, not to mention slightly unsettling to look at. Heedless of his present blindness, he continues work on the bandages for his captain's various wounds. The captain is lying on her side on a cot taken out of the ship for this particular purpose. He comes to the tail and starts work on it. "Keep thtill. It'll jutht thtay thore forever if I don't do thomething about it." He works on immobilizing the base of the tail, using a sturdy piece of branch wrapped in bandages as a makeshift splint. "Honethtly, how do you even manage to pull your tail in a fight?"
"You'd be surprised." She seems just about ready to make him pull his own tail off, if he weren't so busy patching her up.
Several minutes later he finishes. "Okay, that'th everything I could find. You can get up n..who goeth there?!" Callor turns abruptly in the direction of the noise of someone walking not four yards off.
His call is answered by a loud meow, a hiss, and then the voice of a man saying, "Calm down, it's only me." The owner of the voice steps out into view--well, Verra's view at any rate, not that it matters since Callor knows that particular shade of 'meow' anywhere. The person who has found the captain and pilot is a human man, from the looks of him somewhere in his early thirties. His attire is that of a traveling noble: practical, but fancy with a little bit of gilding and jewels to let people know he's better than a commoner. He doesn't seem to have a weapon, unusual for a lone traveler on Aranor, and seemingly instead he carries a housecat on his shoulder. A black cat she is, and positively glaring at the Neshobe.
Verra, standing up, says the man's name in greeting. "Bernard? What're you doing so far out?"
"Well I came to see you of course. I had some important business to take care of in Rysinth, and when I looked up I couldn't help but notice your ship going down in what looked like a less than optimal manner." Bernard stretches his arms to either side in a mock-innocent 'search-me' gesture. The cat leaps off and starts walking toward Callor, as if to stalk some prey.
"Are you saying you came to warn me, or to finally turn me in?" Verra grins.
He chuckles. "Neither, I checked and nobody else saw what I did. Interesting fluke, don't you think?" The cat pounces at Callor, who dodges to one side. "I just wanted to say hello."
"Would you keep your cat off me?!" Callor doesn't know much about Bernard. He knows that he is some kind of noble, politician, or emissary of one of the smaller, more obscure countries of Draconis. He knows that he is slightly corrupt, and has gotten Verra out of a few arrests. He knows that he has occasionally had her at his house for as much as month at a time, or had her bring him across to Magis on "diplomatic" missions. He knows that Bernard is uncannily good at getting information--accurate information, on just about anything one could desire--for a price. But what he knows most of all is that that cat has been with Bernard every single time he's shown up, and that it is the most annoying creature on the face of Aranor. It seems to think it's some kind of giant predator, and Callor is a smaller fry encroaching on its territory. When it's not trying to jump on him and claw his face off it's scratching at his clothes or wandering around the Gran Daora breaking things. He swears that cat has been around for a long time, or else somehow transferred its personality to every new pet Bernard bought when the prior one died of old age.
"Gretchen," says Bernard with a chastising tone. "Leave the man alone while he's blind, will you? It's hardly a fair fight." The cat mewls as if in response and walks back over to him. He offers her his arm and she climbs right up to his shoulder in a flash, her claws not even lightly scratching the delicate cloth of his shirt's sleeve.
Gretchen. What a disgusting name. It sounds like the noise you make when you have to sneeze in the middle of crowd. Callor is still thankful for the reprieve, though he knows Bernard is only demonstrating his control over the cat to tease him; next time he won't do anything about it and the Neshobe will be stuck dealing with the cat for however long their meeting lasts.
"You never just want to say hello. What are you really after?"
He chuckles again, that condescending kind of chuckle that lets everyone in earshot know they aren't really in on the joke. "Not in a playful mood today, I take it? Callor, would you mind leaving us alone for a little while? ..If you're finished tending to the lady's wounds, that is."
"Thertainly. I'll be in my quarterth if you need me." He starts to stalk off to the entrance of the airship. He turns his head back for a second. "Don't let that cat out of your thight."
"Will do," says the noble with a wave and a grin. Once he's out of sight, Bernard turns to Verra once more. "Now, whatever happened to you?"
"You don't already know? That's a surprise."
Bernard smiles wide. "Indulge me."
(Next)
From: http://www.mspaforums.com/showthread.php?42524-Airships-Over-Aranor-Prose
We rejoin Leona and Whys quite some time after our last view of them. Presently they are walking along the street, Whys concluding his basic practical tutorial on the legal use of Fylenis powers, or at least those actions she is powerful enough to perform. Or I should say, he's just now finished. And they come upon a certain tavern.
Leona glances through the windows of the tavern and quickly ducks back. "Say. Would you mind joining me in a little act?"
"Well, that depends on who I'm supposed to play."
"Do you know Karua?"
"Well, I did meet him once or twice. I know what he looks like at any rate." Whys' illusion flickers a few times and switches to the Red Claw Neshobe's likeness: Maroon-dyed fur, tinted eyeglasses and all. "But I don't think I could play the part all that convincingly," he adds.
"Just let me do the talking then, dear. Just look grumpy and mutter or yell about fire."
"Like this?" Whys momentarily individualizes an illusion for Leona in which he shouts: "FLAMING SON OF A BURNT STICK!"
"That'll be perfect," Leona laughs. "Now, I think our audience is already on the way out. Play along."
The conversation between Xach and Arozi has gone quite predictably, he having related the story of how the crew of the Farran almost killed Captain Verra Kriset. It's the kind of story one doesn't forget after experiencing. Whatever other conversation they had after that was not terribly important or interesting, so we move on to their walking out of the tavern, about to part ways. Arozi takes a whiff of the air around them, and abruptly turns in a particular direction. Without the benefit of a bizarre sight-smell ability, Xach has to infer what is she 'sees', because for the moment he is only really aware of her storming in the direction of two people.
"What are you doing--Karua, what is she doing here?"
The man hesitates to answer, and the woman jumps at the question before he can recover. "No need to get your hackles up, dear, he was just showing me around town."
"You've been to this town more times than he has! Why is her arm around yours?"
"Uh--"
"Dear, I don't know if you know it but it's customary for a gentleman to lead a lady around by the arm. Isn't that right?"
"Sure. Yeah."
"..You stop answering for him. Karua, what are you doing in Rysinth? The last time I saw you you said you were planning to stay on Magis for the next decade."
"Is it too much for a guy to change his flaming mind every once in a while?"
"Really? How's your scar doing?"
"Which one do you mean?"
"The one on your wrist. Right here." And with that, the noise of her punching him in the face, eyeglasses breaking.
"OW! Okay, okay, I didn't know it was that personal. You can count me out, lady." The Shadow Fang notices that instead of the stranger leaving, he just walks up next to Xach and stands there to watch.
"What are you even trying to do?"
"I just wanted to know how you might respond to the very real possibility that Karua would prefer my company to yours."
"He's in love with me."
"Is he really? I thought he hated everyone. I hardly think you have the experience to warm a cold heart like that."
"Nobody needs your kind of experience!"
"My dear, if you mean to impinge my honor I have only one way to respond to that." Said response seems to involve unsheathing a sword.
"STOP CALLING ME THAT!" The noise of metal on metal: Arozi's using her own weapon, but it doesn't sound like she's deployed the blade or spike on it. She starts using the same kind of clicking sounds Xach usually uses to judge her opponent's position, and as a result he, too, can more clearly perceive the battle.
The elf starts an overly theatrical swing at Arozi's side, which she blocks with a straight hit, and holds the cane against the sword hard, trying to knock the latter loose. The other woman rapidly swings the sword away from the cane and brings it in an arc around the Neshobe's head, swinging as if to hit her neck before suddenly drawing back; Arozi's cane would have been just barely in time to save her throat, but now she's holding it awkwardly.
She isn't given time to recover; the woman makes a downward chop, forcing Arozi to duck aside, and once the sword is low to the ground she swings it at Arozi's feet. The cane stabs the ground, blocking the sword, and Arozi recovers a firm grip. Then she aims another hard strike in an effort to clock the woman in the head; she blocks with the sword and slides it along the cane, moving close to the hand holding it and forcing Arozi to step back.
Xach has barely had time by this point to wonder whether he should step in. But the elf doesn't seem particularly intent on actually cutting Arozi, just in producing a bunch of near-misses. And, for as well-trained as he knows her to be, Arozi is clearly outclassed in skill here, and probably won't be hurting her either, barring a lucky strike. It doesn't help that she's angry and her opponent calm. The fight goes on for only a few more seconds, however, before someone else steps in.
Okay, I think that's quite enough of that. All at once Whys' illusion reverts to the ordinary 'average-looking person' shape, and each combatant perceives the other dodging around all her present attacks and running away--in opposite directions. Each chases after the illusory opponent for a good few minutes (thanks to some clever directional decision to keep them in Whys' "reach") before the illusion disappears, leaving her far away from the real thing.
Whys turns to Xach. Sorry, I didn't know what Leona was up to but I didn't expect that.
"It's fine. We were just about to separate anyway."
Hm..I think I forgot to warn her about the Ekim.
"What of them?"
Oh, Leona recently gained some Fylens powers, long story. I was teaching her a few simple things about her powers, and the law, and marking her as my territory to lower the risk of any..."overzealous" enforcers doing something nasty. But Ekim are..different. We technically can read their minds like everyone else, but their souls are hard and sharp. It's like the difference between strolling into a building and walking into a dense jungle--if you know what you're getting yourself into, and you're careful and skilled enough you'll probably be okay, but otherwise it can really hurt. He pauses a moment. Oh well, what are the chances she'll meet one anytime soon anyway? Then Edward arrives, looking a little out of breath.
Let's back up a little bit. Edward, now walking quickly toward the tavern, considers possible reasons for the misinformation involving the dragon. The trick to Raoclem's way of telling the future is that he is invariably accurate in what he says, but what he says is usually quite vague. Predicting a bleeding moon in no uncertain terms, in a public place no less, simply isn't something he would do if there were no truth to it. It's hard to be vague about that sort of thing, other than the timing--but even given that it is the truth, he obviously brought it up to send Edward away before he could notice that the excuse about the dragon made no sense. The best conclusion is that Raoclem wanted them to meet the dragon for some reason...the prophecy he related to the dragon is the only remaining clue.
The first half is of no use other than identifying the Farran. The second half, however, is more interesting:
Your life or death, dragon of fire, hold its crew in their hands,
Though ignorant of the task set before them, they would do it all the same.
The two lines need not be related--the task they are to do need not have anything to do with Arizan whatsoever. The first and second phrases' meaning may be reversed: The dragon's life or death may be a choice whose decision holds the crew in its hands. That doesn't mean she is in any danger right now, but it means that if she were in danger it would probably be in their best interests to help her out. Unless it means that their lives are at greater risk with the dragon alive, but...while Raoclem's prophecies have a tendency of causing trouble, they have never outright prescribed murder when understood correctly.
The only task so far that the crew of the Farran has had set before them, which they were initially ignorant of but would do all the same, was the defense of the ship. Against Verra. Was their task to protect some other ship by acting as bait, given Verra's propensity for seeking vengeance? No, nothing related to the prophecy or its results seems to have effected the attack. Barring the interference of a third party, this was something that was going to happen anyway. There must be another task in the future, or at least it is very likely that there is. Perhaps he wants them to find out what it is on their own? The only real conclusion Edward can draw before he arrives at the tavern and find Whys and Xach there is that prophecy is confusing.
"Xach. There you are."
"So I am. What happened to you?"
"I met Raoclem, or rather he intentionally made certain I came upon him. He said a few things, not all of which I can account for, but most importantly he predicted a blood moon coming."
Did you give him a good punch for Conall? interjects the Fylenis while Xach is busy processing the information.
"Yes. Actually, he seemed to be expecting me to."
A shame, that.
Meanwhile, Conall and the Neshobe seek the latter's friend. They come upon a tavern where the barkeeper says someone matching her description played a harp in there a while ago, then left with a man who seemed to be her friend. His description of the friend is considerably more vague than that of the girl, and it doesn't exactly match a description given by a bar patron who was also present at the time. Once they leave, Conall says, "Her friend was a Fylenis. Might have been Whys, actually." Khazu nods, and they head off in the direction the pair were seen to turn after leaving the tavern.
Again meanwhile, though perhaps a bit later, somewhere in the middle of a forest less than a day's walk away from the outer edge of Rysinth is a wrecked though not too badly damaged ship. The crash landing was as careful as it could have been, only took down a few trees, and thankfully nothing is smoking or on fire. The wood is thick enough to hide the ship from aerial view, so for the moment there is nothing to be worried about.
The Neshobe's clothes are lightly singed, but his eyes are the worst off. They look as if they had soot glued to them, all pitch black and clearly unseeing, not to mention slightly unsettling to look at. Heedless of his present blindness, he continues work on the bandages for his captain's various wounds. The captain is lying on her side on a cot taken out of the ship for this particular purpose. He comes to the tail and starts work on it. "Keep thtill. It'll jutht thtay thore forever if I don't do thomething about it." He works on immobilizing the base of the tail, using a sturdy piece of branch wrapped in bandages as a makeshift splint. "Honethtly, how do you even manage to pull your tail in a fight?"
"You'd be surprised." She seems just about ready to make him pull his own tail off, if he weren't so busy patching her up.
Several minutes later he finishes. "Okay, that'th everything I could find. You can get up n..who goeth there?!" Callor turns abruptly in the direction of the noise of someone walking not four yards off.
His call is answered by a loud meow, a hiss, and then the voice of a man saying, "Calm down, it's only me." The owner of the voice steps out into view--well, Verra's view at any rate, not that it matters since Callor knows that particular shade of 'meow' anywhere. The person who has found the captain and pilot is a human man, from the looks of him somewhere in his early thirties. His attire is that of a traveling noble: practical, but fancy with a little bit of gilding and jewels to let people know he's better than a commoner. He doesn't seem to have a weapon, unusual for a lone traveler on Aranor, and seemingly instead he carries a housecat on his shoulder. A black cat she is, and positively glaring at the Neshobe.
Verra, standing up, says the man's name in greeting. "Bernard? What're you doing so far out?"
"Well I came to see you of course. I had some important business to take care of in Rysinth, and when I looked up I couldn't help but notice your ship going down in what looked like a less than optimal manner." Bernard stretches his arms to either side in a mock-innocent 'search-me' gesture. The cat leaps off and starts walking toward Callor, as if to stalk some prey.
"Are you saying you came to warn me, or to finally turn me in?" Verra grins.
He chuckles. "Neither, I checked and nobody else saw what I did. Interesting fluke, don't you think?" The cat pounces at Callor, who dodges to one side. "I just wanted to say hello."
"Would you keep your cat off me?!" Callor doesn't know much about Bernard. He knows that he is some kind of noble, politician, or emissary of one of the smaller, more obscure countries of Draconis. He knows that he is slightly corrupt, and has gotten Verra out of a few arrests. He knows that he has occasionally had her at his house for as much as month at a time, or had her bring him across to Magis on "diplomatic" missions. He knows that Bernard is uncannily good at getting information--accurate information, on just about anything one could desire--for a price. But what he knows most of all is that that cat has been with Bernard every single time he's shown up, and that it is the most annoying creature on the face of Aranor. It seems to think it's some kind of giant predator, and Callor is a smaller fry encroaching on its territory. When it's not trying to jump on him and claw his face off it's scratching at his clothes or wandering around the Gran Daora breaking things. He swears that cat has been around for a long time, or else somehow transferred its personality to every new pet Bernard bought when the prior one died of old age.
"Gretchen," says Bernard with a chastising tone. "Leave the man alone while he's blind, will you? It's hardly a fair fight." The cat mewls as if in response and walks back over to him. He offers her his arm and she climbs right up to his shoulder in a flash, her claws not even lightly scratching the delicate cloth of his shirt's sleeve.
Gretchen. What a disgusting name. It sounds like the noise you make when you have to sneeze in the middle of crowd. Callor is still thankful for the reprieve, though he knows Bernard is only demonstrating his control over the cat to tease him; next time he won't do anything about it and the Neshobe will be stuck dealing with the cat for however long their meeting lasts.
"You never just want to say hello. What are you really after?"
He chuckles again, that condescending kind of chuckle that lets everyone in earshot know they aren't really in on the joke. "Not in a playful mood today, I take it? Callor, would you mind leaving us alone for a little while? ..If you're finished tending to the lady's wounds, that is."
"Thertainly. I'll be in my quarterth if you need me." He starts to stalk off to the entrance of the airship. He turns his head back for a second. "Don't let that cat out of your thight."
"Will do," says the noble with a wave and a grin. Once he's out of sight, Bernard turns to Verra once more. "Now, whatever happened to you?"
"You don't already know? That's a surprise."
Bernard smiles wide. "Indulge me."
(Next)
From: http://www.mspaforums.com/showthread.php?42524-Airships-Over-Aranor-Prose
Airships Over Aranor 14
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Arizan looks up from staring into a glass mug that her hand is just a little too big and claw-ended to pick up by the intended handle. "So..." Ann doesn't respond verbally for the moment, but moves her head some to indicate she's listening. "What did you ask for exactly?"
"Side of cow, cooked and seasoned." As precise and general vocabulary as possible for six words. "Do you eat them whole?"
"Well, not cows so much as, usually, wild prey. But dragons are too big to live on little pieces of animals."
"Do you need less food in a smaller shape?"
"...I don't know. But I am not exactly starving right now anyway."
"Don't use that form much?"
"No."
"Can you fly like that?"
"Well, this form is a little too heavy to really fly, but I can glide long enough to change back to my natural form."
It's a little later, from the human siblings' perspective. Charlotte is alone for the moment at an agreed meeting place while Conall and Khazu are off asking people after the latter's friend. 'Leave the recruiting to me', she'd said, and that is exactly what she's engaged in.
Unfortunately for both parties, the person she is currently trying to recruit is not very interested.
"What's the matter, you don't like adventure?"
"Miss, I'm a merchant, not a mercenary."
"You don't travel?"
"I live in Rysinth. I own a store in Rysinth. It's right over there. I left it to do a brief errand. Now please get out of my way."
Luck is a dubious thing, and randomly accosting people on the street rarely gets the kind of results Charlotte is hoping for. Still, the Spirits have an uncanny way of arranging things sometimes. An Ekim who had walked out of the store in question notes the exchange and watches for a good minute or so before coming closer. "What journey are you talking about?" Charlotte immediately turns to the newcomer and forgets about the poor shopowner immediately, and he goes about his business as quickly as his feet can carry him.
The Ekim are historically a race almost as reclusive and secretive as the Fylenis, but unlike them the Ekim do not hide as individuals, and there has never really been grounds to question their very existence. Rather, there are a few relatively large islands off the coast of Magis which have long been their home. It is something of an unofficial country, which neither Rithara nor the Republic of Ardan lay claim to, but which has no official diplomatic relationships with other countries. Only Ekim have lived there for ages, and for a very long time it was taboo for other races to even visit. Their typical isolation has rendered the average Ekim's command of Common language (which used to be known as the human language until Draconis was discovered, at which point it had to be acknowledged that there were about twenty different human languages) not as strong as most other races, but whatever humor one may derive from their grammatical errors is about the only thing funny about them.
Ekim are a kind of warm-blooded humanoid lizard folk*, usually taller than humans. This particular one has pitch black scales across her body that shimmer in the sunlight. There are differences between Ekim men and women, subtle anatomical differences which a fellow Ekim may pick up on and be attracted or unattracted to immediately, but which the more mammalian races would have a hard time distinguishing; I say that to say that Ekim women do not have mammaries, being not mammalian, so it is perfectly normal for one, like this one, to not wear any kind of upper garment. The easiest way to distinguish gender of an Ekim, for anyone who doesn't know their anatomy all that well, is usually the voice; Charlotte recognizes fairly easily that the one speaking to her is female.
The Ekim traditionally honor the ability to fight, but the restraint to refrain from doing so; this may have something to do with their unique inherent power. An Ekim soul is hard-edged, thick and tough, and may be removed from their body in the shape of a weapon. A particular Ekim's soul takes on the shape of a particular weapon when it is drawn; at first the weapon is extremely basic without any unique traits whatsoever, but as the Ekim matures it grows more stylized and unique, eventually becoming exceptionally well-crafted and well-suited to the Ekim's particular fighting style. Ekim weapons can change form, but only in small ways that follow naturally from the original form's shape, and only to a maximum of three different forms. So for example, an Ekim pair of knives would sensibly be able to transform into a single, double-bladed knife, or perhaps even a bladed boomerang, but would not ever turn into a longsword. Ekim magic is elemental, similar to the elements of Elfin magic, but it is entirely channeled through their soul-weapon; hence, even a magic-ignorant human wielding an Ekim weapon with full permission from the soul that it is can use its inherent powerful magic.
You may have noticed that Verra, wielding an Ekim weapon, made exclusive use of lightning magic through it. This is because an Ekim weapon usually only channels a single element, and that particular weapon's element was electricity.
Enough of that. Charlotte answers the question in a thousandth of the time it probably took you to read all of that. "I got a tip from a guy about an ancient treasure, but it's probably just a way to lure people out to an isolated place so a bunch of bandits can rob them. So I'm looking for some people to help us take 'em down for adventure and profit."
"Pardon, 'us'? Who else is with you?"
"Oh, my brother and another guy. They'll be back soon."
"Hm." The Ekim considers the opportunity. "It sounds good."
"So you're interested?"
"Yes."
"Great! What got your attention first?"
"Like your hat. I, try it on?"
"...No. You have to earn a hat like this." She's obviously joking, but the Ekim plays along, pretending to have taken it seriously. Calling her by race is getting a little tedious; we should probably figure out what her name is. Maybe another guessing game is in order?
After last time, Edward has learned to take Raoclem's prophecies with at least twenty grains of salt--more if they sound particularly important. Still, he would not lie about this. Then again, there isn't that much to be done about it at the moment. Conall can and probably should hear about it before the Farran lifts off again, certainly, but there is someone else he knows who would probably want to know sooner rather than later.
Edward already left Raoclem and his...friend, or acquaintance, or whatever. He walked away showing a few marked signs of anger, which was purely to keep people from getting in his way for a bit and in no way an expression of his current emotional status, and began heading toward a certain tavern. Xach hadn't discussed his plans with everyone--and of course he needn't have mentioned them to anyone, since shore leave is one's own business as long as nothing illegal is involved--but he had mentioned them to Edward once. And Edward remembers these things.
A few streets along the way to the aforementioned tavern, Edwards stops short. He had been rehearsing the conversation with the Choneiji in his head, to ensure he had the last part straight, but didn't even get that far. He was stopped at Raoclem's reason for sending a fire dragon to attack the airship by a little thing in his head that informed him, That makes no sense.
The dragon did not damage the Farran. The only harm Arizan did to Conall's airship was a scorch mark one one side, which for reference is the equivalent of chipping the paint on an earth car. There is practically no way Raoclem didn't anticipate Conall taking the diplomatic approach, since Whys made it so easy. Furthermore, the dragon was basically completely unimportant to the attack of the Gran Daora. She literally hid in the engine room and didn't even know it happened. If the Choneiji actually knew Verra was going to attack their ship and meant to do something to affect it, he should have sent the dragon after her, or come up with something better..maybe arranging for a peacekeeper vessel to show up in the area. If he were somehow involved in her attack of the Farran, that is, for some reason on the pirates' side, there would have been some hint that he was. Verra would have mentioned that she had met Raoclem when Conall brought him up during the 'negotiations'.
Quickly getting out of the way of traffic after what felt like a long period of time thinking but in fact only took a few seconds or so, Edward goes back over the conversation again, looking for hints. If Raoclem lied about his reason for sending the dragon, why? And what was the real reason?
*--I mean in the same way that Earth's dinosaurs are theorized to have been warm-blooded. Clearly this is a biological possibility and does not require magic to explain.
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From: http://www.mspaforums.com/showthread.php?42524-Airships-Over-Aranor-Prose
Arizan looks up from staring into a glass mug that her hand is just a little too big and claw-ended to pick up by the intended handle. "So..." Ann doesn't respond verbally for the moment, but moves her head some to indicate she's listening. "What did you ask for exactly?"
"Side of cow, cooked and seasoned." As precise and general vocabulary as possible for six words. "Do you eat them whole?"
"Well, not cows so much as, usually, wild prey. But dragons are too big to live on little pieces of animals."
"Do you need less food in a smaller shape?"
"...I don't know. But I am not exactly starving right now anyway."
"Don't use that form much?"
"No."
"Can you fly like that?"
"Well, this form is a little too heavy to really fly, but I can glide long enough to change back to my natural form."
It's a little later, from the human siblings' perspective. Charlotte is alone for the moment at an agreed meeting place while Conall and Khazu are off asking people after the latter's friend. 'Leave the recruiting to me', she'd said, and that is exactly what she's engaged in.
Unfortunately for both parties, the person she is currently trying to recruit is not very interested.
"What's the matter, you don't like adventure?"
"Miss, I'm a merchant, not a mercenary."
"You don't travel?"
"I live in Rysinth. I own a store in Rysinth. It's right over there. I left it to do a brief errand. Now please get out of my way."
Luck is a dubious thing, and randomly accosting people on the street rarely gets the kind of results Charlotte is hoping for. Still, the Spirits have an uncanny way of arranging things sometimes. An Ekim who had walked out of the store in question notes the exchange and watches for a good minute or so before coming closer. "What journey are you talking about?" Charlotte immediately turns to the newcomer and forgets about the poor shopowner immediately, and he goes about his business as quickly as his feet can carry him.
The Ekim are historically a race almost as reclusive and secretive as the Fylenis, but unlike them the Ekim do not hide as individuals, and there has never really been grounds to question their very existence. Rather, there are a few relatively large islands off the coast of Magis which have long been their home. It is something of an unofficial country, which neither Rithara nor the Republic of Ardan lay claim to, but which has no official diplomatic relationships with other countries. Only Ekim have lived there for ages, and for a very long time it was taboo for other races to even visit. Their typical isolation has rendered the average Ekim's command of Common language (which used to be known as the human language until Draconis was discovered, at which point it had to be acknowledged that there were about twenty different human languages) not as strong as most other races, but whatever humor one may derive from their grammatical errors is about the only thing funny about them.
Ekim are a kind of warm-blooded humanoid lizard folk*, usually taller than humans. This particular one has pitch black scales across her body that shimmer in the sunlight. There are differences between Ekim men and women, subtle anatomical differences which a fellow Ekim may pick up on and be attracted or unattracted to immediately, but which the more mammalian races would have a hard time distinguishing; I say that to say that Ekim women do not have mammaries, being not mammalian, so it is perfectly normal for one, like this one, to not wear any kind of upper garment. The easiest way to distinguish gender of an Ekim, for anyone who doesn't know their anatomy all that well, is usually the voice; Charlotte recognizes fairly easily that the one speaking to her is female.
The Ekim traditionally honor the ability to fight, but the restraint to refrain from doing so; this may have something to do with their unique inherent power. An Ekim soul is hard-edged, thick and tough, and may be removed from their body in the shape of a weapon. A particular Ekim's soul takes on the shape of a particular weapon when it is drawn; at first the weapon is extremely basic without any unique traits whatsoever, but as the Ekim matures it grows more stylized and unique, eventually becoming exceptionally well-crafted and well-suited to the Ekim's particular fighting style. Ekim weapons can change form, but only in small ways that follow naturally from the original form's shape, and only to a maximum of three different forms. So for example, an Ekim pair of knives would sensibly be able to transform into a single, double-bladed knife, or perhaps even a bladed boomerang, but would not ever turn into a longsword. Ekim magic is elemental, similar to the elements of Elfin magic, but it is entirely channeled through their soul-weapon; hence, even a magic-ignorant human wielding an Ekim weapon with full permission from the soul that it is can use its inherent powerful magic.
You may have noticed that Verra, wielding an Ekim weapon, made exclusive use of lightning magic through it. This is because an Ekim weapon usually only channels a single element, and that particular weapon's element was electricity.
Enough of that. Charlotte answers the question in a thousandth of the time it probably took you to read all of that. "I got a tip from a guy about an ancient treasure, but it's probably just a way to lure people out to an isolated place so a bunch of bandits can rob them. So I'm looking for some people to help us take 'em down for adventure and profit."
"Pardon, 'us'? Who else is with you?"
"Oh, my brother and another guy. They'll be back soon."
"Hm." The Ekim considers the opportunity. "It sounds good."
"So you're interested?"
"Yes."
"Great! What got your attention first?"
"Like your hat. I, try it on?"
"...No. You have to earn a hat like this." She's obviously joking, but the Ekim plays along, pretending to have taken it seriously. Calling her by race is getting a little tedious; we should probably figure out what her name is. Maybe another guessing game is in order?
After last time, Edward has learned to take Raoclem's prophecies with at least twenty grains of salt--more if they sound particularly important. Still, he would not lie about this. Then again, there isn't that much to be done about it at the moment. Conall can and probably should hear about it before the Farran lifts off again, certainly, but there is someone else he knows who would probably want to know sooner rather than later.
Edward already left Raoclem and his...friend, or acquaintance, or whatever. He walked away showing a few marked signs of anger, which was purely to keep people from getting in his way for a bit and in no way an expression of his current emotional status, and began heading toward a certain tavern. Xach hadn't discussed his plans with everyone--and of course he needn't have mentioned them to anyone, since shore leave is one's own business as long as nothing illegal is involved--but he had mentioned them to Edward once. And Edward remembers these things.
A few streets along the way to the aforementioned tavern, Edwards stops short. He had been rehearsing the conversation with the Choneiji in his head, to ensure he had the last part straight, but didn't even get that far. He was stopped at Raoclem's reason for sending a fire dragon to attack the airship by a little thing in his head that informed him, That makes no sense.
The dragon did not damage the Farran. The only harm Arizan did to Conall's airship was a scorch mark one one side, which for reference is the equivalent of chipping the paint on an earth car. There is practically no way Raoclem didn't anticipate Conall taking the diplomatic approach, since Whys made it so easy. Furthermore, the dragon was basically completely unimportant to the attack of the Gran Daora. She literally hid in the engine room and didn't even know it happened. If the Choneiji actually knew Verra was going to attack their ship and meant to do something to affect it, he should have sent the dragon after her, or come up with something better..maybe arranging for a peacekeeper vessel to show up in the area. If he were somehow involved in her attack of the Farran, that is, for some reason on the pirates' side, there would have been some hint that he was. Verra would have mentioned that she had met Raoclem when Conall brought him up during the 'negotiations'.
Quickly getting out of the way of traffic after what felt like a long period of time thinking but in fact only took a few seconds or so, Edward goes back over the conversation again, looking for hints. If Raoclem lied about his reason for sending the dragon, why? And what was the real reason?
*--I mean in the same way that Earth's dinosaurs are theorized to have been warm-blooded. Clearly this is a biological possibility and does not require magic to explain.
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From: http://www.mspaforums.com/showthread.php?42524-Airships-Over-Aranor-Prose
Airships Over Aranor 13
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Well, let's join the two Neshoba who are traveling together in the city of Rysinth. We now join Raoclem and Aurica..uh...
Wait, that isn't the two I was talking about at all. Oh well, I suppose we could watch them for a moment. Raoclem is currently in Rysinth for mysterious reasons of his own; I may as well give a little bit of background information on him. He is a Choneiji; as has been mentioned before, the word very roughly translates to 'prophet'. However, Aranor is entirely without a concept of deity, as you may have surmised based on events and conversation so far. The Choneiji (the plural is the same as the singular) are seven Shadow Fang Neshoba who all have the same spell, or at least a set of extremely similar spells with only slight nuances separating them. This collection of spells allow one to communicate directly with a collective entity known as The Spirits. They are the closest thing to a deity Aranor has, but they neither inspire nor request any form of worship whatsoever beyond basic respect.
The Spirits are the souls of the dead, and their existence is conclusive proof that the people of Aranor actually have something called a "soul" separate from their bodies (not that there isn't proof elsewhere). Souls are suspected to be extremely dense concentrations of magical energy, though this does not explain why having one imparts sentience and self-awareness. Some elves have even displayed the ability to briefly use their own souls as fuel sources for their magic, and using only a very small fraction of an even smaller fraction of its potential done things that were thought absolutely too much to be possible. When people die (except for Ekim with their soul-weapons currently drawn), their souls are released from their bodies; for reasons not properly understood, disembodied souls tend to be attracted to one another, and form some kind of collective consciousness whose awareness somehow appears to transcend time somewhat. While it is accurate to say that everyone appears to go to the same afterlife--as a member of The Spirits--upon death, it is entirely unclear what this is like; there is speculation that the morally good will find integration considerably more pleasant than the morally evil, but the jury is still out on that point. Though The Spirits are a collective entity, there is some evidence the individual souls do not lose their individuality by becoming a part of the whole.
The Spirits speak to Choneiji of the past and the future, and the Choneiji use their discretion to decide which pieces of information to pass on to who. It is a weighty responsibility, but Raoclem is relatively young and has an unusual outlook for a Choneiji to help him bear it. Usually there are seven Choneiji; in exceptional cases there are less. Each Choneiji is understood to be assigned to a single Clan of the Neshoba, except for the youngest, the wandering one, who is supposed to take care of anyone not covered by the other seven and see as much of the world as he or she can before an inevitable death succeeds him or her to one of the other positions. The Choneiji of the Shadow Fang is invariably the most powerful, though not necvessarily the oldest; that one discards his or her original name and becomes known only as "Ichoneiji", literally "THE Choneiji", which is quite possibly the most honored and respected title the Neshoba have available, at least equal to that of "Grand Alpha".
The powers of a Choneiji are not restricted to fully Shadow Fang Neshoba (or indeed even full Neshoba) and Raoclem takes only half his heritage from that Clan. The other half he takes from the Yellow Moon, the polar opposite of the Shadow Fang. (Verra has a little Yellow Moon in her as well, in case you were wondering.) Those of the Yellow Moon Clan usually have spells relating to physical light, though a few have had spells of the opposite side of the coin, which give shadows physical existence and make use of them. The Clan's traditional attitude can be summed up in four words: Life is a game. To expound, hunting is a game; eating is a game; battle is a game; conversation is a game; raising children is a game; everything is a game. They tend to have a very positive outlook on life, preferring to be good sports. After all, everyone loses the game of survival sooner or later, so you might as well enjoy the playing.
His companion is Aurica, a White Grass woman who once taught Charlotte a thing or two about swords and tales. I don't care to go into detail about this Clan just yet, since I just got through introducing another, but suffice to say that they love to mess with people. Aurica currently has human-looking ears (possible due to White Grass magic, which again I shall explain eventually) and is wearing a bright kimono that hides her tail, which together make her look like a human to most onlookers. She also has a sheathed katana, her weapon of choice, concealed in the robes. The two are presently standing in the streets near the hospital where the crewmembers of the Farran are receiving or have received treatment. "So," she says, leaning against a wall with her arms crossed, "What are we waiting here for?"
"We are waiting to see something truly unbelievable. Well, you're waiting for that anyway. I'm waiting to experience it."
"Then we can get back to my story?"
"Yep." They wait a good two or three minutes in a silence made less awkward by the general noise of the streets around them. Then Edward walks out of the hospital.
He is the last one out, having volunteered to help stabilize a severely injured orc until more of the hospital staff proper was available to help her out. He washed his hands off, but his shirt still has a few flecks of dried blood on it. He sees Raoclem with an apparently-human companion he doesn't recognize, walks calmly up to the two and then a pace or so from the front of the Choneiji. Then he deliberately draws a fist back and punches him in the mouth. Hard. Raoclem is knocked down and back by the blow, but recovers quickly and sits up. Edward, shaking his hand in an effort to alleviate the painful effects of the equal-but-opposite rule, says, "You are lucky I am not predisposed to violent outbursts. That would have hurt considerably more."
The Choneiji takes it well; in fact, he laughs. "Hehehahah! Wasn't that great?" He's asking the question of his friend, who just grins.
"I suppose it was, but I'm not sure I see what was so unusual about it. Especially considering your reputation."
"Are you kidding? How often do you get to see a Blue Tail lose his cool, eh?"
Edward raises an eyebrow while the woman helps Roaclem up. "Is stereotyping wrong, or are all persons of mixed heritage prone to mental deficiency and emotional confusion?"
"Ooooo, that's a low blow. What was that for, anyway?"
"You sent a dragon to attack our ship. You gave a fire dragon a prediction that led her to attack a ship largely built of wood. I do not think I need to elaborate further."
"Oh, that? I was just trying to keep up my end of Conall's post-flight deal."
Edward looks genuinely confused for a moment, to the point of having trouble forming his question. When he does get it out it's just as composed as everything else he says. "How exactly does sending a dragon to our ship constitute cooperation with an agreement not to meddle with the Farran?"
"Well, I knew I would need passage back across quite soon, and I was afraid The Spirits would direct me to use your ship again," (Every once in a while The Spirits will directly tell a Choneiji to do something. Historically, ignoring this advice has never ended well. Ever.) "So I arranged to have it temporarily grounded while I was booking passage."
Now the Blue Tail is suspicious. "Why do you need to go back to Magis? I thought you had a lot of work to do here on Draconis?"
"Oh, I did, and I got as much of it done as I could, but I couldn't stand to miss seeing a bleeding moon." Both Edward and Raoclem's companion freeze for a moment with looks of some surprise and dismay. In fact, a few heads of the nearby crowd--especially the Neshoban ones--get turned in the Choneiji's general direction. Oh, well, now I've gone and said it haven't I? Didn't want to ruin the surprise. Yes, the last time I visited Xindaris' son he was in poor health, complaining that all the future-thoughts were beginning to close in on him, make it difficult to pay attention to the present. That was...I think, about twenty years ago? Now The Spirits are getting restless, talking about how much they'll miss him and wishing he could stay just a little longer." Everyone knows Raoclem is the sort of person whose word can never be fully trusted, but even he wouldn't talk about this without at least a grain of truth to his words. I should probably explain why what he is saying is so important.
On Aranor, a lunar eclipse (in which the moon, which is larger than Earth's and thus looms bigger in the Aranoran night sky, seems to turn a crimson shade) is associated with a very specific superstition. It is a superstition which has proven impossible for astronomical advances to expel, for the simple fact that it has not been wrong once yet. "When the moon bleeds, Ichoneiji dies"; or, "when Ichoneiji dies, the moon bleeds". Nobody really knows whether one causes the other, or whether The Spirits somehow cause the two to coincide as an act of mourning, but in any case it is a very serious event for the Neshoba, and thanks to friendly interracial relations to a lot of other people as well. There are numerous less confirmable superstitions that magic doesn't work quite right on the night of a bleeding moon, because The Spirits themselves being upset and disrupts it. The other element of concern, however, is that the event Raoclem is predicting would be the first lunar eclipse on Aranor since its two continents learned of one another's existences and began sending people back and forth. Everyone on Aranor these days know that day on one continent is night on the other, and everyone who has studied their history knows that Ichoneiji only dies on the night of the continent informally referred to as Rith-Ard, and formally known as Magis (for it was the one, for the longest time, where everyone used magic; as opposed to Draconis, where dragons ruled and the only other inhabitants, humans, were ignorant of magic beyond knowing what dragons could do). So the question is, when the moon bleeds before one side of Aranor, what--if anything--happens on the other? The invention of airships run by magical engines was also a long time after the last bleeding moon, and if the magic that propels them and keeps them in the air were disrupted without proper warning it isn't hard to imagine the impact that would have. Fingers crossed, I suppose, that either that superstition is wrong or one isn't flying on that day/night.
Well, that's what Edward was up to, so we may as well join Xach next. The blindfolded Shadow Fang Neshobe is currently waiting near the entrance of a particular tavern, the sort of place one might choose for an unofficial, friendly kind of appointment. He's early; he had expected to be late and for that reason was quite impatient with the doctor tending to his hand. He was firmly chastised and reminded that he may not be able to use the hand again without severe pain if he doesn't allow it to heal properly. Now his arms are crossed, his right hand covered in bandages only just now drying off from soaking in some soothing balm intended to take the edge off. Edge. Pff. A real warrior grits her teeth and fights through the pain. At least, that might be something Xach would have said if he had been asked whether he wanted the balm or not instead of having his arm dumped in a bucket of the stuff.
Anyway, the person he is waiting for eventually arrives, sniffing the air for his scent and listening for the occasional clicking sound from his mouth, which is itself half of why he knows she has arrived. The young woman who arrives is a half Yellow Moon, half Blue Tail Neshobe with a distinctive teal color to her fur that would also be that of her eyes, if she had any. She wears a pair of specially tinted dark red glasses over her eyes to obscure the empty sockets, which she has stubbornly refused to have sewn shut and which many people find uncomfortable to look at. (In case you're wondering, keeping eyeglasses on Neshoban ears is really just a matter of practiced balance and control. It's no big deal.) She wears simple, flexible leather armor and walks with a cane, pretending to need it for her blindness in spite of training to the contrary. The cane is heavily modified to hold together as well as any sword, and to easily work as blunt, slashing, and stabbing weapon, and she is notoriously skilled at applying all three uses for it.
Her name--her true, Choneiji-given name and the only one she uses--is Arozi-Tryptei (pronounced Ah-row-zay, trip-tay), though most people only use the first few syllables to refer or speak to her. Like many true Neshoban names its meaning forms a paradox at first glance, something about seeing without eyes. She is a Peacekeeper captain, an avid supporter of changing the occupation from a loose bunch of privateers into a proper self-regulating organization with the exclusive recognition of at least some of the more prominent of Aranoran governments (which would force unscrupulous Peacekeepers to either straighten up or effectively be considered pirates). For reasons nobody quite understands, she has a fixation on dragons, to the point of having her airship designed to resemble one. For reasons everyone who knows her well enough understands, she is somewhat obsessed with justice, especially punishment. The simple fact is--she believes--that when a man unprovoked walks into a home, ties up the family, then tortures and kills the parents before the child's eyes before plucking said eyes out and eating them, it no longer matters how legally insane he is--magically-induced or not--he deserves to die. Pirates are terrified of her because she sometimes enjoys making theatrical "trials" for her own enjoyment. There is a special little "courtroom" in her ship for the specific purpose; they almost invariably end with a guilty-as-charged and subsequent hanging from the side of the airship. While a pirate's capture is usually worth more bounty than his or her dead body, both are usually acceptable. That is to say, a pirate's life is not worth much to anyone on the side of the law, so she has basically nothing to fear for this behavior beyond the same kind of revenge pirates usually try to enact on Peacekeepers.
As you may have guessed by now, Xach is part mentor in dealing with blindness (especially in battle), part father-figure to her after the tragic death of her parents. She likes to tell people they are "Blind Buddies", which name he cannot quite disagree with.
"Ah! There you are. It's great to see you again!"
"Likewise. Feels like I haven't seen you in ages." The two of them often make a point to use expressions referring to sight and eyes, as a sort of joke between them; it's also meant to make other people feel a little less uncomfortable about using such language around them. The two Neshoba clasp left hands and head into the tavern.
Once they are properly seated, Arozi starts the conversation proper.
"You're way earlier than I thought you'd be. I thought your captain didn't like to waste fuel on rushing."
"Oh, he doesn't. We were forced to rush this time. People to not see, a meeting to not have, you know."
She sniffs a few times. "Hence the white and black smells on your hand?" (Arozi suffers from a bizarre form of synaesthesia where smells and tastes have colors and somehow the other way around as well, due to an extremely ill-advised and horribly botched attempt to magically regrow her eyes shortly after she lost them. The young elf responsible was severely reprimanded and quickly decided to go into something that wasn't medicine.)
"Yes. I'll tell you all about it, make it an official report. Pleasure before business, though, it's been far too long since we laid eyes on one another."
"I agree."
(There is a brief pause in the conversation while a barmaid comes and takes some orders from them.) "So...how are things with Karua these days?"
"About the same. Last year was the last time I caught him in a good mood; last time we were on a date he nearly burned the table down. He's still not ready to commit, I think, but that's fine. I've got to do something great before I can really even think of settling down and having pups."
Xach nods--out of habit, since obviously she can't see the gesture. "Wise plan, I'd say. There's no need to rush things. Heh, you're already farther along on that front than I am. Speaking of greatness...did that rumor ever pay off?"
She laughs. "I wouldn't have time to hang around if it had. That guy was a clear imposter, plain as the smell of white and dye on his tail! He could've bothered to limp a little bit, or actually learn a few of the stories he used to tell. Even another White Grass would've hated such a pitiful impersonation."
"That sounds like a verdict. What was the penalty?"
"Just a little pain and humiliation, to teach him not to do it again. Or I suppose, at least do it right next time." She sighs. "Such a shame, though, I thought for sure I was on to something this time. I'm sure the old coot would support a Peackeeper union if someone just asked him. Queen Thera would have to at least respect the words of the man who's read the entire castle library, and Ardan just imitates everything Rithara does with trade these days."
Xach shrugs. "If you could find him. That's the advantage of a Fylens mate, you know. He wanted to disappear with her and by The Spirits, that's what he did. You'd have better luck tracking down the Doppleganger and convincing it to impersonate him."
"That'd be awfully dishonest, though."
"I cannot imagine this ending well. At best this Bernard is attempting to send us on a wild goose chase for some reason and we will find nothing at all; worst case, he is working with or part of a gang of robbers who lure people out into a deserted ruin to steal from them, extort money from any friends or relatives they may have, and eventually kill them. Somewhere between, it is possible said robbers are new to the trade or inept and we would manage to escape them."
"What if he was telling the truth while pretending to be someone he wasn't to make it seem more believable?"
"I think based on your description of him I would sooner have trusted Aurica's word on the best place to hunt fictional birds than his on the location of an ancient burial site."
"If it is a bunch of bandits we should just get together a party of hunters and go bust up their operation. Pirates and monsters aren't the only ones worth coin, after all."
"Do you actually know anyone other than yourself in this town who would go on a completely blind mission to fight bandits who may or may not exist, and who will know we are coming if they do?"
"Khazu here would come. Doesn't he owe you for something anyway?"
"No."
"Er, I am not so certain I would like to participate. I-I mean, I would like to find my friend first, while she is in town..."
"I'll help you find her, maybe she could join us! What's she look like?"
"Well--"
"Hold on, I missed the part where you actually gave either of us a convincing reason to do this in the first place."
"Well, what's wrong with a little adventure? It could be just like old times! And your ship's being repaired anyway, isn't it?"
"I am still recovering from lightning burns that I received literally less than three hours ago."
Charlotte is already standing up. "Bah, they'll heal. Now don't interrupt--what's your friend look like, Khazu?"
(Next)
From: http://www.mspaforums.com/showthread.php?42524-Airships-Over-Aranor-Prose
Well, let's join the two Neshoba who are traveling together in the city of Rysinth. We now join Raoclem and Aurica..uh...
Wait, that isn't the two I was talking about at all. Oh well, I suppose we could watch them for a moment. Raoclem is currently in Rysinth for mysterious reasons of his own; I may as well give a little bit of background information on him. He is a Choneiji; as has been mentioned before, the word very roughly translates to 'prophet'. However, Aranor is entirely without a concept of deity, as you may have surmised based on events and conversation so far. The Choneiji (the plural is the same as the singular) are seven Shadow Fang Neshoba who all have the same spell, or at least a set of extremely similar spells with only slight nuances separating them. This collection of spells allow one to communicate directly with a collective entity known as The Spirits. They are the closest thing to a deity Aranor has, but they neither inspire nor request any form of worship whatsoever beyond basic respect.
The Spirits are the souls of the dead, and their existence is conclusive proof that the people of Aranor actually have something called a "soul" separate from their bodies (not that there isn't proof elsewhere). Souls are suspected to be extremely dense concentrations of magical energy, though this does not explain why having one imparts sentience and self-awareness. Some elves have even displayed the ability to briefly use their own souls as fuel sources for their magic, and using only a very small fraction of an even smaller fraction of its potential done things that were thought absolutely too much to be possible. When people die (except for Ekim with their soul-weapons currently drawn), their souls are released from their bodies; for reasons not properly understood, disembodied souls tend to be attracted to one another, and form some kind of collective consciousness whose awareness somehow appears to transcend time somewhat. While it is accurate to say that everyone appears to go to the same afterlife--as a member of The Spirits--upon death, it is entirely unclear what this is like; there is speculation that the morally good will find integration considerably more pleasant than the morally evil, but the jury is still out on that point. Though The Spirits are a collective entity, there is some evidence the individual souls do not lose their individuality by becoming a part of the whole.
The Spirits speak to Choneiji of the past and the future, and the Choneiji use their discretion to decide which pieces of information to pass on to who. It is a weighty responsibility, but Raoclem is relatively young and has an unusual outlook for a Choneiji to help him bear it. Usually there are seven Choneiji; in exceptional cases there are less. Each Choneiji is understood to be assigned to a single Clan of the Neshoba, except for the youngest, the wandering one, who is supposed to take care of anyone not covered by the other seven and see as much of the world as he or she can before an inevitable death succeeds him or her to one of the other positions. The Choneiji of the Shadow Fang is invariably the most powerful, though not necvessarily the oldest; that one discards his or her original name and becomes known only as "Ichoneiji", literally "THE Choneiji", which is quite possibly the most honored and respected title the Neshoba have available, at least equal to that of "Grand Alpha".
The powers of a Choneiji are not restricted to fully Shadow Fang Neshoba (or indeed even full Neshoba) and Raoclem takes only half his heritage from that Clan. The other half he takes from the Yellow Moon, the polar opposite of the Shadow Fang. (Verra has a little Yellow Moon in her as well, in case you were wondering.) Those of the Yellow Moon Clan usually have spells relating to physical light, though a few have had spells of the opposite side of the coin, which give shadows physical existence and make use of them. The Clan's traditional attitude can be summed up in four words: Life is a game. To expound, hunting is a game; eating is a game; battle is a game; conversation is a game; raising children is a game; everything is a game. They tend to have a very positive outlook on life, preferring to be good sports. After all, everyone loses the game of survival sooner or later, so you might as well enjoy the playing.
His companion is Aurica, a White Grass woman who once taught Charlotte a thing or two about swords and tales. I don't care to go into detail about this Clan just yet, since I just got through introducing another, but suffice to say that they love to mess with people. Aurica currently has human-looking ears (possible due to White Grass magic, which again I shall explain eventually) and is wearing a bright kimono that hides her tail, which together make her look like a human to most onlookers. She also has a sheathed katana, her weapon of choice, concealed in the robes. The two are presently standing in the streets near the hospital where the crewmembers of the Farran are receiving or have received treatment. "So," she says, leaning against a wall with her arms crossed, "What are we waiting here for?"
"We are waiting to see something truly unbelievable. Well, you're waiting for that anyway. I'm waiting to experience it."
"Then we can get back to my story?"
"Yep." They wait a good two or three minutes in a silence made less awkward by the general noise of the streets around them. Then Edward walks out of the hospital.
He is the last one out, having volunteered to help stabilize a severely injured orc until more of the hospital staff proper was available to help her out. He washed his hands off, but his shirt still has a few flecks of dried blood on it. He sees Raoclem with an apparently-human companion he doesn't recognize, walks calmly up to the two and then a pace or so from the front of the Choneiji. Then he deliberately draws a fist back and punches him in the mouth. Hard. Raoclem is knocked down and back by the blow, but recovers quickly and sits up. Edward, shaking his hand in an effort to alleviate the painful effects of the equal-but-opposite rule, says, "You are lucky I am not predisposed to violent outbursts. That would have hurt considerably more."
The Choneiji takes it well; in fact, he laughs. "Hehehahah! Wasn't that great?" He's asking the question of his friend, who just grins.
"I suppose it was, but I'm not sure I see what was so unusual about it. Especially considering your reputation."
"Are you kidding? How often do you get to see a Blue Tail lose his cool, eh?"
Edward raises an eyebrow while the woman helps Roaclem up. "Is stereotyping wrong, or are all persons of mixed heritage prone to mental deficiency and emotional confusion?"
"Ooooo, that's a low blow. What was that for, anyway?"
"You sent a dragon to attack our ship. You gave a fire dragon a prediction that led her to attack a ship largely built of wood. I do not think I need to elaborate further."
"Oh, that? I was just trying to keep up my end of Conall's post-flight deal."
Edward looks genuinely confused for a moment, to the point of having trouble forming his question. When he does get it out it's just as composed as everything else he says. "How exactly does sending a dragon to our ship constitute cooperation with an agreement not to meddle with the Farran?"
"Well, I knew I would need passage back across quite soon, and I was afraid The Spirits would direct me to use your ship again," (Every once in a while The Spirits will directly tell a Choneiji to do something. Historically, ignoring this advice has never ended well. Ever.) "So I arranged to have it temporarily grounded while I was booking passage."
Now the Blue Tail is suspicious. "Why do you need to go back to Magis? I thought you had a lot of work to do here on Draconis?"
"Oh, I did, and I got as much of it done as I could, but I couldn't stand to miss seeing a bleeding moon." Both Edward and Raoclem's companion freeze for a moment with looks of some surprise and dismay. In fact, a few heads of the nearby crowd--especially the Neshoban ones--get turned in the Choneiji's general direction. Oh, well, now I've gone and said it haven't I? Didn't want to ruin the surprise. Yes, the last time I visited Xindaris' son he was in poor health, complaining that all the future-thoughts were beginning to close in on him, make it difficult to pay attention to the present. That was...I think, about twenty years ago? Now The Spirits are getting restless, talking about how much they'll miss him and wishing he could stay just a little longer." Everyone knows Raoclem is the sort of person whose word can never be fully trusted, but even he wouldn't talk about this without at least a grain of truth to his words. I should probably explain why what he is saying is so important.
On Aranor, a lunar eclipse (in which the moon, which is larger than Earth's and thus looms bigger in the Aranoran night sky, seems to turn a crimson shade) is associated with a very specific superstition. It is a superstition which has proven impossible for astronomical advances to expel, for the simple fact that it has not been wrong once yet. "When the moon bleeds, Ichoneiji dies"; or, "when Ichoneiji dies, the moon bleeds". Nobody really knows whether one causes the other, or whether The Spirits somehow cause the two to coincide as an act of mourning, but in any case it is a very serious event for the Neshoba, and thanks to friendly interracial relations to a lot of other people as well. There are numerous less confirmable superstitions that magic doesn't work quite right on the night of a bleeding moon, because The Spirits themselves being upset and disrupts it. The other element of concern, however, is that the event Raoclem is predicting would be the first lunar eclipse on Aranor since its two continents learned of one another's existences and began sending people back and forth. Everyone on Aranor these days know that day on one continent is night on the other, and everyone who has studied their history knows that Ichoneiji only dies on the night of the continent informally referred to as Rith-Ard, and formally known as Magis (for it was the one, for the longest time, where everyone used magic; as opposed to Draconis, where dragons ruled and the only other inhabitants, humans, were ignorant of magic beyond knowing what dragons could do). So the question is, when the moon bleeds before one side of Aranor, what--if anything--happens on the other? The invention of airships run by magical engines was also a long time after the last bleeding moon, and if the magic that propels them and keeps them in the air were disrupted without proper warning it isn't hard to imagine the impact that would have. Fingers crossed, I suppose, that either that superstition is wrong or one isn't flying on that day/night.
Well, that's what Edward was up to, so we may as well join Xach next. The blindfolded Shadow Fang Neshobe is currently waiting near the entrance of a particular tavern, the sort of place one might choose for an unofficial, friendly kind of appointment. He's early; he had expected to be late and for that reason was quite impatient with the doctor tending to his hand. He was firmly chastised and reminded that he may not be able to use the hand again without severe pain if he doesn't allow it to heal properly. Now his arms are crossed, his right hand covered in bandages only just now drying off from soaking in some soothing balm intended to take the edge off. Edge. Pff. A real warrior grits her teeth and fights through the pain. At least, that might be something Xach would have said if he had been asked whether he wanted the balm or not instead of having his arm dumped in a bucket of the stuff.
Anyway, the person he is waiting for eventually arrives, sniffing the air for his scent and listening for the occasional clicking sound from his mouth, which is itself half of why he knows she has arrived. The young woman who arrives is a half Yellow Moon, half Blue Tail Neshobe with a distinctive teal color to her fur that would also be that of her eyes, if she had any. She wears a pair of specially tinted dark red glasses over her eyes to obscure the empty sockets, which she has stubbornly refused to have sewn shut and which many people find uncomfortable to look at. (In case you're wondering, keeping eyeglasses on Neshoban ears is really just a matter of practiced balance and control. It's no big deal.) She wears simple, flexible leather armor and walks with a cane, pretending to need it for her blindness in spite of training to the contrary. The cane is heavily modified to hold together as well as any sword, and to easily work as blunt, slashing, and stabbing weapon, and she is notoriously skilled at applying all three uses for it.
Her name--her true, Choneiji-given name and the only one she uses--is Arozi-Tryptei (pronounced Ah-row-zay, trip-tay), though most people only use the first few syllables to refer or speak to her. Like many true Neshoban names its meaning forms a paradox at first glance, something about seeing without eyes. She is a Peacekeeper captain, an avid supporter of changing the occupation from a loose bunch of privateers into a proper self-regulating organization with the exclusive recognition of at least some of the more prominent of Aranoran governments (which would force unscrupulous Peacekeepers to either straighten up or effectively be considered pirates). For reasons nobody quite understands, she has a fixation on dragons, to the point of having her airship designed to resemble one. For reasons everyone who knows her well enough understands, she is somewhat obsessed with justice, especially punishment. The simple fact is--she believes--that when a man unprovoked walks into a home, ties up the family, then tortures and kills the parents before the child's eyes before plucking said eyes out and eating them, it no longer matters how legally insane he is--magically-induced or not--he deserves to die. Pirates are terrified of her because she sometimes enjoys making theatrical "trials" for her own enjoyment. There is a special little "courtroom" in her ship for the specific purpose; they almost invariably end with a guilty-as-charged and subsequent hanging from the side of the airship. While a pirate's capture is usually worth more bounty than his or her dead body, both are usually acceptable. That is to say, a pirate's life is not worth much to anyone on the side of the law, so she has basically nothing to fear for this behavior beyond the same kind of revenge pirates usually try to enact on Peacekeepers.
As you may have guessed by now, Xach is part mentor in dealing with blindness (especially in battle), part father-figure to her after the tragic death of her parents. She likes to tell people they are "Blind Buddies", which name he cannot quite disagree with.
"Ah! There you are. It's great to see you again!"
"Likewise. Feels like I haven't seen you in ages." The two of them often make a point to use expressions referring to sight and eyes, as a sort of joke between them; it's also meant to make other people feel a little less uncomfortable about using such language around them. The two Neshoba clasp left hands and head into the tavern.
Once they are properly seated, Arozi starts the conversation proper.
"You're way earlier than I thought you'd be. I thought your captain didn't like to waste fuel on rushing."
"Oh, he doesn't. We were forced to rush this time. People to not see, a meeting to not have, you know."
She sniffs a few times. "Hence the white and black smells on your hand?" (Arozi suffers from a bizarre form of synaesthesia where smells and tastes have colors and somehow the other way around as well, due to an extremely ill-advised and horribly botched attempt to magically regrow her eyes shortly after she lost them. The young elf responsible was severely reprimanded and quickly decided to go into something that wasn't medicine.)
"Yes. I'll tell you all about it, make it an official report. Pleasure before business, though, it's been far too long since we laid eyes on one another."
"I agree."
(There is a brief pause in the conversation while a barmaid comes and takes some orders from them.) "So...how are things with Karua these days?"
"About the same. Last year was the last time I caught him in a good mood; last time we were on a date he nearly burned the table down. He's still not ready to commit, I think, but that's fine. I've got to do something great before I can really even think of settling down and having pups."
Xach nods--out of habit, since obviously she can't see the gesture. "Wise plan, I'd say. There's no need to rush things. Heh, you're already farther along on that front than I am. Speaking of greatness...did that rumor ever pay off?"
She laughs. "I wouldn't have time to hang around if it had. That guy was a clear imposter, plain as the smell of white and dye on his tail! He could've bothered to limp a little bit, or actually learn a few of the stories he used to tell. Even another White Grass would've hated such a pitiful impersonation."
"That sounds like a verdict. What was the penalty?"
"Just a little pain and humiliation, to teach him not to do it again. Or I suppose, at least do it right next time." She sighs. "Such a shame, though, I thought for sure I was on to something this time. I'm sure the old coot would support a Peackeeper union if someone just asked him. Queen Thera would have to at least respect the words of the man who's read the entire castle library, and Ardan just imitates everything Rithara does with trade these days."
Xach shrugs. "If you could find him. That's the advantage of a Fylens mate, you know. He wanted to disappear with her and by The Spirits, that's what he did. You'd have better luck tracking down the Doppleganger and convincing it to impersonate him."
"That'd be awfully dishonest, though."
"I cannot imagine this ending well. At best this Bernard is attempting to send us on a wild goose chase for some reason and we will find nothing at all; worst case, he is working with or part of a gang of robbers who lure people out into a deserted ruin to steal from them, extort money from any friends or relatives they may have, and eventually kill them. Somewhere between, it is possible said robbers are new to the trade or inept and we would manage to escape them."
"What if he was telling the truth while pretending to be someone he wasn't to make it seem more believable?"
"I think based on your description of him I would sooner have trusted Aurica's word on the best place to hunt fictional birds than his on the location of an ancient burial site."
"If it is a bunch of bandits we should just get together a party of hunters and go bust up their operation. Pirates and monsters aren't the only ones worth coin, after all."
"Do you actually know anyone other than yourself in this town who would go on a completely blind mission to fight bandits who may or may not exist, and who will know we are coming if they do?"
"Khazu here would come. Doesn't he owe you for something anyway?"
"No."
"Er, I am not so certain I would like to participate. I-I mean, I would like to find my friend first, while she is in town..."
"I'll help you find her, maybe she could join us! What's she look like?"
"Well--"
"Hold on, I missed the part where you actually gave either of us a convincing reason to do this in the first place."
"Well, what's wrong with a little adventure? It could be just like old times! And your ship's being repaired anyway, isn't it?"
"I am still recovering from lightning burns that I received literally less than three hours ago."
Charlotte is already standing up. "Bah, they'll heal. Now don't interrupt--what's your friend look like, Khazu?"
(Next)
From: http://www.mspaforums.com/showthread.php?42524-Airships-Over-Aranor-Prose
Airships Over Aranor 12
(Prev)
Ann and the dragon get to the restaurant before too long. Of course Arizan has something to say. "What kind of place is this?"
"Food."
"So...they serve food here?"
"Yes." I should probably note that Arizan's ignorance of normal humanoid culture is basically characteristic of isolationist dragons, and not a product of any mental deficiency. When one is born and raised and then lives for about two or three centuries in a seismically active, volcanic section of land where nobody other than dragons could possibly hope to survive for very long, leaving only to hunt food and even then not going very far, it's only natural to be a little confused by the concept of a restaurant. Just another good reason to take things in stride, not that Ann particularly needs one. The eagle woman leads the way to an empty table with two seats, both wit very short backs to better accommodate winged persons.
The dragon picks up a menu on the table, which is actually much harder than it sounds due to this form's hands ending in long, sharp claws. Obviously she can read, but most of the named dishes and descriptions have words or phrases she hasn't even heard of before. "Is this the kind of food I would like, then?"
"They have good meat."
"So you just automatically assume that all dragons like meat?"
"Do you or not?"
"...Yes."
After a few minutes of what is most likely a heated argument in the kitchen, a particularly brave waiter comes to take their order. He's still kind of hesitant about approaching the dragon, but Ann saves him the trouble, ordering both their meals in full before he can even ask what they want to drink. Then there are about five or six minutes of awkward silence, not just between the two but also a general lowering of voices throughout the restaurant. It was there before, but less noticeable when they were talking. Arizan seems to want to converse but clearly has no idea what to say; Ann is not one for starting conversations in general, but wouldn't know what to say even if she wanted to. The vacuum of conversation is so awkward that it's becoming quite awkward for me to even write about it. Let's move on to somebody else, shall we?
"Well, my wounds are not from a dragon, actually. They are from a pirate. But...Ironically enough, we did encounter a dragon before the attack."
Charlotte leans forward. "Oh? Do tell."
"Well, one minute we were on our way here, everything steady as she goes, and the next Whys said there was a red dragon behind us aiming her breath in the Farran's general direction. I am getting ahead of myself, but this is entirely Raoclem's doing."
"S-sir Conall, do you mean Choneiji Raoclem?" A correction is implicit in the Neshobe's voice. Khazu is obviously being the sort that would never leave off any title, especially one prestigious enough to have only belonged to seven or less individuals at once at given point in all of Aranor's recorded history.
"Sorry. He insisted we drop the title on the flight over here, even Xach. It made a habit that is hard to break. Anyway, apparently he gave this dragon another vague prophecy that implied we might be responsible for her death. Whyskars suggested that it was meant to imply we would save her life somehow, but to be perfectly honest I do not think that anything like that happened." Conall explains how Arizan decided to get on the airship and was subsequently sent to the engine room.
"So she rode all the way here? Where is she now? Does she know any ancient dragon stories?"
"Calm down..honestly, you sound like Xach's protégé. As this dragon seems to be in a perpetual state of either rage or looking for reasons to become enraged, I am not exactly sure your meeting her would be good for the health of anyone allergic to being on fire."
"I'm sure I could calm her down."
"With what, one of Aurica's stories? About dragon slaying, perhaps? But to answer your question, she wanted to stay with someone of the crew on some of our shore leave while the ship is repaired, so I asked Ann to go with her."
"Ann? You mean that brick wall you took on a few months back?"
"Yes. I am hoping brick is a little harder to burn. So after the dragon was in our engine room, presumably helping the engine's function, Verra decided to show up."
Conall describes the events of the attack from there, not leaving out the promise of revenge. I won't bore you with repetition here. Once he's through, Charlotte appears to be thinking for a few seconds or so.
"Hm..so, Callor's explosion spell. You think it's a half-Clan spell like that thing that let her see through Whys' illusions, or a pure Red Claw?"
"I have little doubt it is the latter, but it would be extremely dangerous for one of us to imitate it. For one, burning that much magical energy at once would probably knock one unconscious for a good two or three hours, and leave one tired and drained for a few days afterward. Then, of course, there is the fact that it seems to come through one's eyes, which cannot possibly be good for vision. Even accepting all of that, he obviously still did not want to cast it on an airship, and it is not hard to see why."
More thinking. It's never a good sign when Charlotte is this thoughtful. "Well. In that case, you obviously need something to tip the odds in your favor. Maybe if you got an Ekim weapon of your own you wouldn't have so much trouble fighting her."
"Lately I have barely been able to keep the ship running and pay her crew the contract minimum for their wages. How would I even begin to afford something like that?"
"Maybe you don't have to buy one." She pauses for dramatic effect and leans forward a bit. "Five or six hours ago I was talking to this guy, called himself Bernard, said he was a dignitary of some western country and native to these lands. He said there were legends from thousands of years ago, about a king who fought off every dragon that entered his kingdom. Supposedly he had a shapeshifting weapon, but wouldn't let his idiot son inherit it, instead having it sealed in his tomb at burial. The dragons came back in and took revenge on his family, but they couldn't find his tomb. Some humans supposedly found it later on, but couldn't get it open. Some kind of weird inscriptions on the front that read like gibberish. Bernard said he got a look at those runes, written down in a book once, and said it looked a lot like transliterated Neshoban." She produces a small scrap of paper from a pocket somewhere and hands it to Khazu. "If you don't mind?"
"Oh! W-well, as I told the madam before..it says something like 'only by presence of two of the blessed slayers of dragons may I open and bleed the formless one'. That is..a little rough, however, I am not an expert in the language."
"Bernard had to run, some kind of official business, he said, but said to treat this guy to some food in his stead. Anyway, doesn't it sound great?"
Conall is thoughful for a moment. "It sounds...like a remarkably well-put-together scam. Did he happen to mention which western country he was from?"
"Maybe? I wasn't really paying attention until he mentioned treasure."
"Did he say exactly where the tomb was?"
"Yeah, he gave me the directions that were in the book with the rest of the text. It's south of here, maybe a few days' walk."
He looks at the Neshobe. "Were you with him before they met?"
"Yes, sir..briefly. He looked noble so I thought he might be willing and able to help me find a friend of mine who I had, err, rather shamefully left behind a few months ago. I had heard she was going this way and wanted to make amends for my prior uncouth behavior. He said he hadn't seen her, but also that he was sure I'd find her eventually...then he accosted Miss Charlotte out of the blue. I am fairly sure he never did specify exactly which country he was from, but he certainly bore himself regally."
"Well, he did an excellent job, I see. Exactly what you said you wanted?" What Whys is commenting on is, again, hidden from most eyes. By Fylenis magic. The young woman he is speaking to is part Fylenis, mostly elf; this was not the case the last time the two of them spoke.
"Indeed. And he was very kind, treated me as a guest for a little while."
Leona Aptenei has long expressed an interest in the abilities, the furtive secretiveness, and particularly the history of the Fylenis. This very interest was the reason she and Whys got to know each other in the first place, he being a younger, more liberal and open-minded Fylenis, and she an elfin actress who had already experienced quite a bit in life. A few years ago she decided to seek a change to make things a little more fresh and interesting, and by the looks of her ears and tail, she found it.
There are two beings on Aranor who are believed to be quite ancient, and who possess a power nobody else does, at least not so fully. They are both elves, technically, but instead of being able to manipulate the usual elements such as fire and water, they possess the "element" of transformation. Elfin magic in general is divided into "positive" and "negative" aspects, the former of which is directed outward (such as in attacks) while the latter is directed inwards (defense or healing, for example); this unconventional element behaves similarly. One of the two beings is The Transformer, a reclusive old elf who hides from the world and is exceptionally hard to find. He has the ability to change the shapes of others rather precisely, down to fine details, but not himself; the other one, known generally (and even referred to by name) as the Doppleganger, has the power to radically change its whole form at once, usually taking on the appearance of other people. The Doppleganger is able to completely imitate the magic of whoever he or she is currently mimicking; the drawback is that frequently changing one's form seems to leave one's memory in a state of extreme disrepair, and he or she has little real sense of identity separate from an imitated personality based on the present form. She or he has usually been on the side of good, when his or her mark on Aranor's history has even been known at all. The only beings the Doppleganger cannot imitate, and the Transformer can neither alter nor alter another to, are dragons.
I say that to say that the latter is who Leona, with Khazu's help, sought and eventually found. Khazu was spooked by old stories of him changing people completely against their will in some sort of experimentation to determine the extent and nature of his powers, but as Leona found out he had long since completed that endeavor and merely wished to be left alone. Still, in exchange for promising not to say where he was found, and in recognition of her rather extensive efforts to find him, he did as she asked. They were both very polite and all was as a proper visit.
One might accuse an actress using the illusory powers of the Fylenis of a sort of "cheating", using magical powers instead of genuine talent for a performance. Leona, however, is immune to such criticism; she has worked with numerous traveling troupes throughout the years, picked up all kinds of tricks and a great deal of practice and experience. She is perfectly capable, without the help of newfound Fylenis magic, to create extensive and convincing illusions with elfin light and sound magic; and perfectly capable of taking on just about any role and playing it as convincingly as one of her stature can.
I should probably point out that actors (and performance artists in general) on Aranor who are not lucky enough to be sponsored by a wealthy person generally make a nomadic living, and as such need to be fairly good at defending themselves against monsters. The ability to make a flashy battle of quite real swords and sorcery without actually harming one another is also useful to an actor's craft. Leona prefers to wield close-in weapons that depend on largely on speed, such as claws or knives, in real combat, but is a very capable swordswoman.
"You should know that having our powers makes you subject to Fylenis law."
"Oh, I know. But I can't do anything terribly dangerous anyway. Declawed, you might say?"
"I knew that from a look, but I have to say it anyway. More importantly, I should probably show you where and how to look for territory marks so you won't step on anyone's toes..especially the King's."
(Next)
From: http://www.mspaforums.com/showthread.php?42524-Airships-Over-Aranor-Prose
Ann and the dragon get to the restaurant before too long. Of course Arizan has something to say. "What kind of place is this?"
"Food."
"So...they serve food here?"
"Yes." I should probably note that Arizan's ignorance of normal humanoid culture is basically characteristic of isolationist dragons, and not a product of any mental deficiency. When one is born and raised and then lives for about two or three centuries in a seismically active, volcanic section of land where nobody other than dragons could possibly hope to survive for very long, leaving only to hunt food and even then not going very far, it's only natural to be a little confused by the concept of a restaurant. Just another good reason to take things in stride, not that Ann particularly needs one. The eagle woman leads the way to an empty table with two seats, both wit very short backs to better accommodate winged persons.
The dragon picks up a menu on the table, which is actually much harder than it sounds due to this form's hands ending in long, sharp claws. Obviously she can read, but most of the named dishes and descriptions have words or phrases she hasn't even heard of before. "Is this the kind of food I would like, then?"
"They have good meat."
"So you just automatically assume that all dragons like meat?"
"Do you or not?"
"...Yes."
After a few minutes of what is most likely a heated argument in the kitchen, a particularly brave waiter comes to take their order. He's still kind of hesitant about approaching the dragon, but Ann saves him the trouble, ordering both their meals in full before he can even ask what they want to drink. Then there are about five or six minutes of awkward silence, not just between the two but also a general lowering of voices throughout the restaurant. It was there before, but less noticeable when they were talking. Arizan seems to want to converse but clearly has no idea what to say; Ann is not one for starting conversations in general, but wouldn't know what to say even if she wanted to. The vacuum of conversation is so awkward that it's becoming quite awkward for me to even write about it. Let's move on to somebody else, shall we?
"Well, my wounds are not from a dragon, actually. They are from a pirate. But...Ironically enough, we did encounter a dragon before the attack."
Charlotte leans forward. "Oh? Do tell."
"Well, one minute we were on our way here, everything steady as she goes, and the next Whys said there was a red dragon behind us aiming her breath in the Farran's general direction. I am getting ahead of myself, but this is entirely Raoclem's doing."
"S-sir Conall, do you mean Choneiji Raoclem?" A correction is implicit in the Neshobe's voice. Khazu is obviously being the sort that would never leave off any title, especially one prestigious enough to have only belonged to seven or less individuals at once at given point in all of Aranor's recorded history.
"Sorry. He insisted we drop the title on the flight over here, even Xach. It made a habit that is hard to break. Anyway, apparently he gave this dragon another vague prophecy that implied we might be responsible for her death. Whyskars suggested that it was meant to imply we would save her life somehow, but to be perfectly honest I do not think that anything like that happened." Conall explains how Arizan decided to get on the airship and was subsequently sent to the engine room.
"So she rode all the way here? Where is she now? Does she know any ancient dragon stories?"
"Calm down..honestly, you sound like Xach's protégé. As this dragon seems to be in a perpetual state of either rage or looking for reasons to become enraged, I am not exactly sure your meeting her would be good for the health of anyone allergic to being on fire."
"I'm sure I could calm her down."
"With what, one of Aurica's stories? About dragon slaying, perhaps? But to answer your question, she wanted to stay with someone of the crew on some of our shore leave while the ship is repaired, so I asked Ann to go with her."
"Ann? You mean that brick wall you took on a few months back?"
"Yes. I am hoping brick is a little harder to burn. So after the dragon was in our engine room, presumably helping the engine's function, Verra decided to show up."
Conall describes the events of the attack from there, not leaving out the promise of revenge. I won't bore you with repetition here. Once he's through, Charlotte appears to be thinking for a few seconds or so.
"Hm..so, Callor's explosion spell. You think it's a half-Clan spell like that thing that let her see through Whys' illusions, or a pure Red Claw?"
"I have little doubt it is the latter, but it would be extremely dangerous for one of us to imitate it. For one, burning that much magical energy at once would probably knock one unconscious for a good two or three hours, and leave one tired and drained for a few days afterward. Then, of course, there is the fact that it seems to come through one's eyes, which cannot possibly be good for vision. Even accepting all of that, he obviously still did not want to cast it on an airship, and it is not hard to see why."
More thinking. It's never a good sign when Charlotte is this thoughtful. "Well. In that case, you obviously need something to tip the odds in your favor. Maybe if you got an Ekim weapon of your own you wouldn't have so much trouble fighting her."
"Lately I have barely been able to keep the ship running and pay her crew the contract minimum for their wages. How would I even begin to afford something like that?"
"Maybe you don't have to buy one." She pauses for dramatic effect and leans forward a bit. "Five or six hours ago I was talking to this guy, called himself Bernard, said he was a dignitary of some western country and native to these lands. He said there were legends from thousands of years ago, about a king who fought off every dragon that entered his kingdom. Supposedly he had a shapeshifting weapon, but wouldn't let his idiot son inherit it, instead having it sealed in his tomb at burial. The dragons came back in and took revenge on his family, but they couldn't find his tomb. Some humans supposedly found it later on, but couldn't get it open. Some kind of weird inscriptions on the front that read like gibberish. Bernard said he got a look at those runes, written down in a book once, and said it looked a lot like transliterated Neshoban." She produces a small scrap of paper from a pocket somewhere and hands it to Khazu. "If you don't mind?"
"Oh! W-well, as I told the madam before..it says something like 'only by presence of two of the blessed slayers of dragons may I open and bleed the formless one'. That is..a little rough, however, I am not an expert in the language."
"Bernard had to run, some kind of official business, he said, but said to treat this guy to some food in his stead. Anyway, doesn't it sound great?"
Conall is thoughful for a moment. "It sounds...like a remarkably well-put-together scam. Did he happen to mention which western country he was from?"
"Maybe? I wasn't really paying attention until he mentioned treasure."
"Did he say exactly where the tomb was?"
"Yeah, he gave me the directions that were in the book with the rest of the text. It's south of here, maybe a few days' walk."
He looks at the Neshobe. "Were you with him before they met?"
"Yes, sir..briefly. He looked noble so I thought he might be willing and able to help me find a friend of mine who I had, err, rather shamefully left behind a few months ago. I had heard she was going this way and wanted to make amends for my prior uncouth behavior. He said he hadn't seen her, but also that he was sure I'd find her eventually...then he accosted Miss Charlotte out of the blue. I am fairly sure he never did specify exactly which country he was from, but he certainly bore himself regally."
"Well, he did an excellent job, I see. Exactly what you said you wanted?" What Whys is commenting on is, again, hidden from most eyes. By Fylenis magic. The young woman he is speaking to is part Fylenis, mostly elf; this was not the case the last time the two of them spoke.
"Indeed. And he was very kind, treated me as a guest for a little while."
Leona Aptenei has long expressed an interest in the abilities, the furtive secretiveness, and particularly the history of the Fylenis. This very interest was the reason she and Whys got to know each other in the first place, he being a younger, more liberal and open-minded Fylenis, and she an elfin actress who had already experienced quite a bit in life. A few years ago she decided to seek a change to make things a little more fresh and interesting, and by the looks of her ears and tail, she found it.
There are two beings on Aranor who are believed to be quite ancient, and who possess a power nobody else does, at least not so fully. They are both elves, technically, but instead of being able to manipulate the usual elements such as fire and water, they possess the "element" of transformation. Elfin magic in general is divided into "positive" and "negative" aspects, the former of which is directed outward (such as in attacks) while the latter is directed inwards (defense or healing, for example); this unconventional element behaves similarly. One of the two beings is The Transformer, a reclusive old elf who hides from the world and is exceptionally hard to find. He has the ability to change the shapes of others rather precisely, down to fine details, but not himself; the other one, known generally (and even referred to by name) as the Doppleganger, has the power to radically change its whole form at once, usually taking on the appearance of other people. The Doppleganger is able to completely imitate the magic of whoever he or she is currently mimicking; the drawback is that frequently changing one's form seems to leave one's memory in a state of extreme disrepair, and he or she has little real sense of identity separate from an imitated personality based on the present form. She or he has usually been on the side of good, when his or her mark on Aranor's history has even been known at all. The only beings the Doppleganger cannot imitate, and the Transformer can neither alter nor alter another to, are dragons.
I say that to say that the latter is who Leona, with Khazu's help, sought and eventually found. Khazu was spooked by old stories of him changing people completely against their will in some sort of experimentation to determine the extent and nature of his powers, but as Leona found out he had long since completed that endeavor and merely wished to be left alone. Still, in exchange for promising not to say where he was found, and in recognition of her rather extensive efforts to find him, he did as she asked. They were both very polite and all was as a proper visit.
One might accuse an actress using the illusory powers of the Fylenis of a sort of "cheating", using magical powers instead of genuine talent for a performance. Leona, however, is immune to such criticism; she has worked with numerous traveling troupes throughout the years, picked up all kinds of tricks and a great deal of practice and experience. She is perfectly capable, without the help of newfound Fylenis magic, to create extensive and convincing illusions with elfin light and sound magic; and perfectly capable of taking on just about any role and playing it as convincingly as one of her stature can.
I should probably point out that actors (and performance artists in general) on Aranor who are not lucky enough to be sponsored by a wealthy person generally make a nomadic living, and as such need to be fairly good at defending themselves against monsters. The ability to make a flashy battle of quite real swords and sorcery without actually harming one another is also useful to an actor's craft. Leona prefers to wield close-in weapons that depend on largely on speed, such as claws or knives, in real combat, but is a very capable swordswoman.
"You should know that having our powers makes you subject to Fylenis law."
"Oh, I know. But I can't do anything terribly dangerous anyway. Declawed, you might say?"
"I knew that from a look, but I have to say it anyway. More importantly, I should probably show you where and how to look for territory marks so you won't step on anyone's toes..especially the King's."
(Next)
From: http://www.mspaforums.com/showthread.php?42524-Airships-Over-Aranor-Prose
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