Fantasy Poisoned Land - [ Zazz & Phoenix ]

[Zazz]

Haethryl gave a small bow of his head and tucked away his weapon, then went to retrieve the loosed bolts.

"Tea is definitely enjoyable," Brandyl agreed, "when one has the time."

Azaria replaced her armor and stood. "Are you lot finished? Let's get moving. We can make it to the plains by tomorrow night if we make good time."

 

[PhoenixMire]

Sylven smiled a little as Haethryl bowed his head and retrieved his bolts. She couldn't deny that a part of her wanted to continue using the crossbow and practicing with it. Alas... nature magic was her strong suit, and she lacked the time to be learning a brand new weapon now.

"I love tea," Veyen said with a nod. "I wish we had the time now. I brought some lavender. For... my nerves. But we don't have time to stop and make tea." He swallowed, turning his head away. "Sorry. The clan says I ramble. I'm probably stalling us further."

"You're not," Tethran said, suddenly coming up behind Veyen to clap his shoulder. "It's Azaria that stopped in the first place."

Sylven sighed and waved the group on. "Let us go, then. I'd rather leave these foreign woods as soon as possible."

 

[Zazz]

Green eyes rolled as Azaria turned to lead their party. "And to think, I almost thought you  might be tolerable." A snicker could be heard from the back of the party.

Brandyl chose to walk by Veyen. "It's quite all right. It's quite nice, actually, to have someone different to talk to." His people were often busy with their tasks and their wars. A nice friendly chat about plants was quite welcome, indeed.

Azaria slowed to let Sylven catch up to her. "What happened, back there? With the... That," she asked, gesturing towards the clanmaid's staff. Azaria hadn't been present for the conversation the day prior about magic, and was woefully unprepared for Sylven's root trick.

 

[PhoenixMire]

Tethran scoffed. "I've never made the mistake of thinking that way about you."

Veyen smiled faintly. He fidgeted idly with his hands a little as they walked, glancing from his fingers to Brandyl a few times. "What else can you tell me? About plants. I feel like you must have some very different plants and mushrooms here, up further north."

Sylven met Azaria's gaze, lightly tilting her head in confusion. "With the what? Oh." She flexed her fingers on her gnarled staff. "Nature magic. I forgot your clan doesn't seem to know of it. You really never use nature magic?" She shook her head, black strands of her hair swaying about her face with the movement. "Never mind. I have been told you don't; it simply... surprises me. I can't imagine getting by without it."

 

[Zazz]

Azaria chose to ignore Tethran.

Brandyl nodded, even as he stumbled over an uneven part of the forest floor. "Yes, we - ow - we have a variety of fungi that grows here naturally, as well a few species we've cultivated ourselves. Master Ingnaeth, before he died, bred a particular type of mushroom that actually glows in the dark when it is ready to be harvested."

"Our archers use it as poison," Haethry added, joining the conversation. He kept his eyes open, watching their backs.

Brandyl continued, "Yes, that, but it also serves to fight infection, if prepared correctly."

"Leaves one hell of a scar," Azaria commented, tilting her head to show the end of a silvery scar slithering up her collarbone from beneath her armor. "Our people work hard to grow what we need. Perhaps we wouldn't starve so often, if the other clans cared to share their precious magic with us."

 

[PhoenixMire]

Veyen nodded, listening intently. “This Master Ingnaeth must have been a remarkable alchemist,” he said, a hint of reverence in his tone.

“Poison?” Sylven narrowed her eyes. She did not trust this talk of poison, but she kept her mouth shut. When Azaria said the other clans didn’t care, the clanmaid sighed heavily, not wanting to start a fruitless debate.

Tethran didn’t seem to have any reservations on that front, however. “Oh, it’s us who refuses to share our magic, and not you who chase us away and refuse to respect us and the ancestors? You’d still have magic in the first place if you were the ones who cared.”

This again. Sylven didn’t even attempt to hide rolling her eyes. Although she may have somewhat agreed with Tethran - it was the Duindôr who strayed from the ancestors, after all - she knew this wasn’t the time or place for such discussions. “Tethran… perhaps let us focus on getting out of these woods before we start any debates?”

“It’s Azaria who keeps starting things,” he huffed. “You can’t possibly just brush her comments away, can you?”

Sylven shot a pointed look at Tethran, but also cast a somewhat frustrated glance at Azaria from the corner of her eye. “How about we all be silent, then?” she said impatiently.

Behind her, Veyen shrank back. “We were just talking about mushrooms…”

 

[Zazz]

Azaria fumed, the rage of an entire abandoned people rising within her chest. She was about to turn and challenge the haughty Virdan hunter, when Sylven cast a frustrated glance at her, suggesting they all be silent.

The warrior elf furrowed her dark brows, but kept her fury to herself. These people knew nothing of their struggle; without the Duindôrin, the orcs would likely have taken over the south, along with Virdan and their little magic sticks. And their sheep and their unicorns. This.. this  princess and her clanmother had no idea what it was like, not knowing if one's home would be burned and crumbled upon return. What watching one's childhood friend die under an axe was like. Azaria seethed in silence, marching on ahead until someone decided they were too tired to go on.

 

[PhoenixMire]

Spirits’ sake. Sylven didn’t know how much longer she could handle this. It felt like herding rowdy toddlers. Rubbing her forehead in distress, she walked onward, keeping her gaze focused intently on the path ahead. She did not want to think about anything except their goal. The land was dying from a mysterious sickness - that was her priority, not these other squabbles that she saw as petty in comparison.

Tethran behind her was seething. She didn’t even have to look at him to know. She swore she could feel his frustration radiating off him. Sylven quickly looked over her shoulder, a little worried for Veyen - sure enough, he had retreated right back into his shell, eyes focused on the forest as he walked, his face once again expressionless and his mouth firmly shut.

They walked onward for quite a while until Sylven finally stopped. It seemed like everyone could use a break, especially after the very long tense silence between them all. “We should eat. Keep up our strength for the journey.”

 

[Zazz]

Haethryl gave a grunt in agreement. He knew Azaria would have walked all night in her anger if she'd been allowed to. "Aye, here is good." He looked to the Duindôr woman ahead, who conceded and halted.

"Fine. A quick rest."

The alchemist sighed in relief, falling to his knees dramatically and slumping forth onto his belly. He turned his head to grin at Veyen before sitting up. "Tea, anyone?"

 

[PhoenixMire]

Sylven collapsed onto a fallen log with a deep sigh, rubbing at her sore legs. She was used to doing a lot of walking - her clan was nomadic, after all - but this… this was a lot. And they still had so much farther to go. Tethran sat beside her, giving her a questioning look, as if to ask if she was all right. Sylven merely gave him a faint smile in return.

Veyen slightly perked up at the mention of tea, but still seemed to hide a little behind his curtain of hair. He hesitated for a moment before reaching for a pouch at his belt and digging through its contents. He produced a few sprigs of dried lavender. “Lavender tea?”

 

[Zazz]

Brandyl's smile widened. "Excellent idea." He pulled out a small pot from his pack while Azaria started on a small fire. Haethryl paced, keeping watch.

"Might as well get some sleep," said Azaria. We're likely far enough from any orc encampments."

"Lavender and valerian root, then," said Brandyl.

Once they all had tea in hand and food to go around, Azaria sat on the ground next to Sylven and leaned back against the log. She had carefully unbuckled the straps of her armor and removed it from her torso. Now, she lifted the hem of her sleeveless shirt and assessed the damage in the firelight. A bruise had begun to form at a spot low on her abdomen. The scar from her collarbone shimmered in the flickering firelight, and the rest of them could see that it spanned a good foot down to her chest. Azaria touched the bruise and hissed, the sound slithering past her canines.

Haethryl stood with a handful of berries, leaning against a tree. His cup of tea sat untouched; he intended to take first watch, so that Azaria and the others could rest. "So, you lot are led by a what? A clan.. mother? Is there a clanfather, or...?"

 

[PhoenixMire]

As the fire flickered and tea was made, the Virdan all visibly relaxed. Veyen took his cup of tea in both hands, contentedly sipping at it. He yawned and looked dozy before he was even finished; he removed the bedroll from his back and set it up near the campfire, settling into it and falling asleep almost immediately.

Tethran and Sylven watched the younger hunter. Sylven couldn’t stop worrying over him. He was so small. What had the clanmother been thinking, sending him on this journey? She’d just have to do her best to make sure he was safe.

The clanmaid was pulled from her thoughts when she heard Azaria hiss in pain. She looked to the other woman’s bruise, a massive dark spot staining her skin, and frowned. It looked nasty. “A little lemleaf paste rubbed on that bruise may help ease the pain,” she suggested.

At Haethryl’s question, both Tethran and Sylven glanced to him. Tethran raised a brow. “How in the spirits’ name is your clan led?”

“He asked us first,” Sylven said with a slight smile. “Some clans have a clanfather. It just depends on who is chosen to lead, next. I happen to be next in line, so I will be clanmother, but if a man had been chosen then he would be clanfather.” She cocked her a head a little. “However, being wed to a clanfather or clanmother does not automatically grant one the same rank. Our clanmother’s wife, for example, is merely an advisor, not a second clanmother.” Sylven leaned forward a little, supporting her weight on her staff. “Now I would like to know how the Duindôr are led.”

 

[Zazz]

"A little pain reminds us we are alive," said Azaria through gritted teeth. Nevertheless, she accepted Brandyl's assistance, holding her shirt out of the way as he applied a bit of the paste to her bruised skin.

"The Duindôrin are led by a council of five elders. A warrior, a smith, a trader, an alchemist, and one that changes with time," Haethryl answered.

"Many of us will die before our hundredth year, so we are led by the survivors," Azaria added, leaning her elbows back on the log with her head back, eyes closed, waiting for the pain to lessen.

Brandyl tucked away the lemleaf paste and cleaned up after their meal. "When one councilor passes, there are still four to lead, preventing an uproar. Too many hotheads without a leader can be dangerous. And, clearly," said Brandyl, eyeing Azaria with a teasing grin, "there is no shortage of hotheads."

Azaria snorted. "Someone has to you alive."

 

[PhoenixMire]

Sylven's brows lifted. A little pain reminds us we are alive. Hmm. She wasn't sure she agreed, but it was an interesting sentiment, one she'd never heard before. She listened intently as they explained the way their clan ruled. Her green eyes flicked between Azaria and Brandyl as they spoke, a frown forming on her lips as they mentioned their usual lifespans. "Only a hundred years," she murmured. Half of the Virdan's average lifespan. Sylven had been alive for fifty years, and the thought disturbed her that, if she was Duindôr, she'd already be halfway to death by now. She felt she had so much left to see and do...

Of course, if this journey went poorly, she'd be a lot closer to death than that.

Sylven shook her head, as if to physically chase away the dour thoughts.

Tethran had seemed to entirely zone out. For the first time since the beginning of their journey, his usual sharp golden eyes were glazed over; exhaustion was etched into his features. With a wide yawn, he set aside his cup of now-finished tea. "I suppose I shouldn't have drank that," he said, his voice tired. "I don't think I can take first watch."

Sylven shrugged lightly. "I will. Sleep now. You can take a later watch." Her eyes turned to Haethryl, who had been quiet, and noticed his tea had also gone untouched. Was he planning to take first watch then?

 

[Zazz]

Haethryl met the clanmaid's gaze in the dim light. "Rest, all of you. I will take first watch. Azaria will take the second."

The female warrior replaced her shirt, the paste having dried, and stood to put her armor back into place. Brandyl let out a big yawn, stretching his arms out wide. He pulled up the hood of his cloak and wrapped himself up in it, then curled up behind the sleeping Virdan boy. He buried his face in Veyen's back, keeping it warm.

Azaria watched the two boys with a hint of a smile. Haethryl had taken to patrolling the campsite, crossbow in hand. The elven woman set her large sword against a nearby tree trunk and proceeded to climb up, settling on a thick branch. She, too, drew a cloak over herself, and closed her eyes, a knife in her hand.

 

[PhoenixMire]

Sylven nodded. She unfurled her fur bedroll and laid it across the forest floor, near the campfire. She cast a glance at Veyen and Brandyl with a small smile; at least some of their party seemed to be getting along well enough. If only the rest could be that way.

Tethran set up his bedroll beside his clanmaid, and before long he drifted off. Sylven suddenly found herself wide awake, though. She couldn't manage to fall asleep. Her eyes focused on the blackness of the woods surrounding them, shadows dancing eerily in the firelight. She was used to sleeping outside in the woods very frequently - her people lived in tents, after all - but these unfamiliar forests and the orc attack earlier in the day left her deeply unsettled. Every shadow looked like a threat.

Still, she knew she needed sleep. Sighing and nestling further under her fur blanket, she tried to make herself calm down and rest.

 

[Zazz]

Azaria dozed for mere minutes before waking from a nightmare. Peering down, she found three of the others fast asleep. Haethryl was quietly watching the trees, as promised. But Sylven's blanket did not rise and fall with the rhythm of slumber; Azaria furrowed her brow. They all needed to sleep, or tomorrow would be rough. She sighed, tucking away her blade and pulling the cloak aside. Quietly, she descended from her perch.

She laid next to the clanmaid, where their face were inches apart. "What is it, princess?" Her words were gentle; her voice, a whisper.

 

[PhoenixMire]

How long had Sylven been lying there, trying in vain to fall asleep? Had it only been minutes? Or hours? She honestly couldn't tell. She was about to close her eyes, when - suddenly Azaria was lying far too close, and Sylven shot upright in her bedroll with a gasp of surprise. She was already feeling a little jumpy due to the orc attack in these unfamiliar woods. Taking a breath to try and calm her suddenly racing heart, Sylven brushed a lock of black hair behind her ear.

"I'm... not tired," she lied.

She was indeed tired. Unfortunately, despite that fact, she couldn't seem to fall asleep. But there was no way she'd admit to still being nervous due to their battle earlier that day. Azaria would never let her live it down. The other woman seemed to take any chance she could get to make fun of the Virdan. ...Well, no, perhaps she wasn't that bad, but Sylven wasn't entirely comfortable around her either. She had to seem at least somewhat strong in front of these Duindôr.

 

[Zazz]

Azaria raised an eyebrow at her answer, raising her torso to lean on her elbow. "More lies?" Her eyes twinkled in the firelight, no sign of animosity. "You don't have to pretend, with me."

The warrior took a moment to wonder what the girl's life was like, being chosen from such a young age as a future clan leader. All of the pressure to be perfect, to be what she was likely being molded into. What a sad life that would be, thought the Duindôr elf.

She patted the bedroll. "Come, we can share some warmth."

 

[PhoenixMire]

Sylven narrowed her eyes in suspicion. Why the sudden kindness? Azaria hadn’t acted like this before. She eyed the other woman with uncertainty, glancing between her and the bedroll. “I am plenty warm with just the fire,” she said slowly, “but… thank you.”

For a moment she turned to gaze into the flickering flames. Her eyes glazed over. “It’s just that I’ve never seen an orc before today. They were so much more powerful than I’d thought. I keep thinking more will come.” She looked into the darkness between the trees again, the nervousness once again rising in her throat.

 

[Zazz]

Azaria remembered the first time she faced an orc. She hadn't been brave at all. She had frozen, just like Veyen, only she had been far younger. She had watched in horror as it tore her mother apart. Her father, yelling at her to run, ribs crushed in his nightclothes.

She looked away, out into the trees, and shook the image from her brain. "The first time is always the worst," she murmured. She brought her gaze back to the clanmaid and placed her hand on the woman's forearm. "Haethryl is keeping watch. You are safe. Come, try to get some rest."

 

[PhoenixMire]

Sylven glanced down at Azaria’s hand, then up into the other woman’s face. Why was she suddenly being kind? Part of her appreciated it - she didn’t like the tension between the Virdan and the Duindôr, after all. But the other part of her couldn’t help feeling a little skeptical.

She chased the thoughts away and smiled, though it was slightly forced. “Thank you. I appreciate it. Though I would still rather… sleep on my own. If you would like to use my bedroll, you can. I may be awake for a while longer.”

 

[Zazz]

Azaria gave her just a hint of a kind smile. She brushed a bit of dark hair behind the clanmaid's ear, patted her shoulder, and hauled herself to her feet. "Thanks, but I prefer to be out of raging orc height." She once again climbed her tree and settled in for the night.

 

[PhoenixMire]

Sylven flushed a little, suddenly feeling flustered. She didn’t manage to form a reply as Azaria went back up to her branch to rest. What was with her? Why had she been so prickly and was now softening up? Had Sylven’s diplomacy finally worked? She honestly didn’t know what to think.

After a moment, she managed to smile up at Azaria and mouth “good night”, before settling into her fur bedroll. It did not take long after that for her to drift off to sleep.

---

Birds chirped in the high branches of the surrounding trees. Tethran’s eyes cracked open as a beam of sunlight hit his face; he groggily sat up to find his other clanmates still sleeping soundly. He got to his feet, rolling up his bedroll and tying it to his back. It was still quite early in the morning, but he was surprised he’d awoken before Veyen and his clanmaid. He looked to the Duindôr elves, wondering if they were all awake yet.

 

[Zazz]

Haethryl was passed out. Once Azaria had traded for his post, he had downed his cold tea and slept soundly propped up against the base of a thick tree, armor and all. Brandyl was awake, using the dying embers of last night's fire to cook some stringy mushrooms he had picked that morning. He offered some to Tethran when he noticed the Virdan hunter had awakened.

Azaria had climbed to the top of a tree to scout the land around them. She could see the plains, and a few columns of smoke rising far enough away, scattered amongst the trees. Satisfied, she began her descent.

On the ground, her boots made contact with the earth with much more grace than one would have expected from a such a brash fighter. "Wake the others, it's time to go."