Fantasy Setting Summer Dawn

[Nevina]

The course of this conversation was not one Song was pleased to hear. Alarm growing with each passing word, the fae fidgeted uncomfortably as the rising tide took shape. Summena sending out a party here was not very promising, then paired up with the other mysteries? The pale fae spoke, a knee-jerk reaction before she had finished considering all of the other points brought up, "A lone broken arrow is hardly proof of anything,"

Song balked at the idea of a war that would mesh the two sides against one another. If she was to make this country her new home, she wanted it to keep its peaceful times. More importantly, the noble wanted to keep the two countries separate, what with her being sentenced to death in one of them. She also wasn't keen on the idea of Summenan culture being forced upon Cyndara; sure, Cyndara could certainly use Summena's much more refined and superior culture, but not at the cost of the laws it would bring with it. Even now after traveling in mud and squalor, she rejected those laws.

"And the capture of one orc is tragic I'm sure, but speaks not of an entire village. I find it difficult to believe that no rumors of such a feat wouldn't have blossomed, for a whole village would require many a soldier bearing an equal number of mouths to brag. Not to mention storing so many orcs in secret. They would have had to remain on this side to avoid even a servant's eye." Glowering from under her hood, Song gave a dainty huff. She wasn't about to admit that she had little knowledge of the military side of things, much less anything about special or private forces. Having also not seen the site, what marks of struggle might have been left? "I agree that the missing orcs ought be found first, so that something more substantial than circumstantial evidence might be obtained."

Song paused, realizing that in her indignant defense, she had forgotten that she was but a humble musician that ought to have no such emotional ties to the good of the country at large. She quickly switched to a cheery, musical voice, "That is to say-- this whole scenario would make for an epic tale, meant to be told many a night over a warm fire so as to treasure the history and meaning of it. I would weave words to bring tears to the eyes of those who listen, but I would wish to write of truth. If you would have me, I would be honored to give my aid as needed." She bowed her head politely. There was no way she would let a war erupt between either side.

 

[Mythee]

In the midst of all of these far more fascinating actual Summenan spies, Lohrithe and Desrick really didn't want to drop the subject of Song and Falsedge's escape, did they? "For one, the night light's family would put her in the nuthouse before letting her montage a sing-along with the so-called Cyndaran savages. As for me desertion is a punishable crime; shame upon me, forever branded with disloyalty, off with her fingers, so on and so forth." Sounding annoyed, she took off one of her armored gauntlets, exposing her left hand with its pinky and ring finger missing their last joint. Once she was sure everyone would've been able to get a look at it she slid the glove, its gauntlet still attached, back on. If the Cyndarans were so considerate, and not entirely clueless, they would ask no further questions after seeing that.

The discussion about the missing orcs went in an... expected direction, for the light fairy, but both she and Desrick had expressed disbelief over the orcs more likely having been captured than anything else.
"Look," She leaned forward on the table, "I'm as... impressed by the large scale of this mystery operation as you are, but whoever's leading the charade has the resources to back them up all the way to high court. Poison, magic, the loyal hands needed to discreetly transport them without any other Summenan seeing, hearing, or smelling an orc- nothing should be off the table."
But both Song and Desrick agreed that they had to find the missing orcs. Desrick was strong to be able to plead for help so calmly in his time of desperation. Life was pummeling him to the bone, wasn't it? Whatever epic Song would make over this, it already sounded more like a Tragedy.
She regarded him thoughtfully, and hid a smile at Song's brave offer to help. Falsedge, however, wasn't so quick to spout words like 'aid as needed'. As much as she could respect the orc, she hadn't a clue about his leadership or Song's good sense in not accepting tasks above her level of competence.
"We'll make ourselves useful, but it remains to be seen how. And what about you lot?" She asked the other Summenans. Unlike Desrick, she couldn't yet trust them. Inherently good or not, people were weak creatures. A stubborn degenerate was more predictable than a wanting heart wavering with every wind.
"If I had sent this diminutive band of hardly trained soldiers into Cyndara to spy for evidence near orc towns, where a single slaughtered family and a convenient Summenan arrow lay there waiting, I would have done so to see them framed- and if not killed, then running back with a tale of being attacked for 'no reason'." Flutterby deer
That might give them an idea of their value to their superiors.
Nobody liked to be used. Though, of course, Falsedge was only voicing that guess in particular to taunt and spur them into taking Cyndara's side.

Falsedge didn't believe in destiny. To her, destiny was just what some called the path that they had already decided for themselves.
But for something like this to fall in their lap at this moment, to give her direction when she had lost her cause and had nothing left except a duty to ensure Song's rescue was not in vain... what else could she call it but good fortune?
Yet she could not rejoice over this unlikely turn of events.
She had been starved for new direction as much as Song had been for socialization, but 'True warriors hate war'- was a War Djinn proverb she actually agreed with.
Nevina Zazz SilverFlight

 

[deer]

Rossarinya could only quietly listen to Ora, Desrick, Falsedge, and Song's input on the situation. She was hesitant, if not, feeling suffocated as she tried to maintain her composure. She could only fidget with her hands under the table. If Cerys was here, he'd place his head on her lap, comforting her with her worries. Anxiously, Rossarinya could only sigh inwardly, breathing in and out as she tried to steady her heart beat.

The need for fresh air was circulating with each breath she took. Rossarinya tried to contain her composure as she remembered the lashes she'd receive for slouching. Her attention was drawn back to Song for a moment, remembering her enthusiasm for House Lambert. A small smile made its way towards her lips as she never thought to venture to House Lambert despite hearing a many tales of its extravagant artistry and flamboyancy. It was indeed no place for a noblewoman such as she, but that only made it that much more intriguing to take a peek. The customs of the other Houses were interesting as she always wanted to travel, to explore beyond the walls of where she stayed. However, would she ever get the opportunity now? A bitter smile gave way to her lips once more as she scolded herself. Appreciate what you have.

Looking around the table, Rossarinya could only look towards a waitress as she softly turned to ask for some water. Waiting patiently, Rossarinya nodded here and there, listening carefully. Secrets spilled out left from right. Mysteries and questions rose one-by-one. The only clear concrete evidence was a signature Evereach arrow had been found in the orc village. But, the orc village that had been invaded left many mysteries. An entire orc village disappearing? How would an entire village of orcs been able to go through Summena unseen? How was the captive Orc brought into Summena? How were they suppose to help Desrick? Should she write a letter to her brothers? They were the insiders she had but would that be considered treason? She couldn't get her brothers involved, could she?

If the Priestess allowed her to stay in Cyndara, earning the trust of those in the village, then what must she decide to do? Her head was spinning with new information as she couldn't find it in her to make a decision. Song and Falsedge provided good points. But, Rossarinya had no comment towards Falsedge's direct question and words. She didn't even know what she just did was correct. Regardless, she found herself feeling alone. She had no home in Summena , betraying her brothers and father already. And she had no home in Cyndara, not being one of them. Peace never resided in her heart.

With a strained smile, Rossrinya shook her head. However, when Falsedge responded to Desrick and Lohrithe's question of why she and Song had been running away, Rossarinya furrowed her brows. Her eyes widened as she watched the warrior take off her gauntlet. Rossarinya could only bite her lips inwardly, not looking away from the war djinn's hand. Rossarinaya couldn't coherently piece everything together so quickly and needed more time. But, time wasn't on her side, was it? Rossarinya knew of the horror of Evereach but haven't seen first-hand of War or destruction of the battlefield. Her heart sank tremendously. She didn't want any of it. Was it possible to avoid?

"It may have been at least a week since I have heard of the news from Ander." She started, finally speaking, though her voice was quiet. "A lot of information has been shared and need processing." At least on her side.

Continuing, Rossarinya spoke, tiredness slipping through her tone. "I don't know how much aid I may provide, but because of your kindness towards me thus far as I am in your debt, I will aid to look for the rest of the orc village so that we can get to the bottom of the matter. There's too many unresolved questions to assume. From there, it is unknown."

tag: SilverFlight , Mythee , The Suspicious Eye , Flutterby , Nevina , Zazz

 

[Zazz]

Lohrithe remained quiet while the others talked. It seemed the blue-haired warrior and her charge were more or less stranded with little options - fight for Cyndara or death by their own laws. Or flee, but by the sounds of it, the Sumennans would find them, hallucinogenic mist or not. They were trustworthy for as long as there was no better option.

Rossarinya seemed troubled by the suggestions and assumptions spewing forth, unable to relax. The drow gently placed his hand over hers and directed a soft, warm smile her way.

He admired Ora's honesty, as well as Rossarinya's, and was greatful for it; Lohrithe did not like fishing for truth among murky waters. Nay, he liked clear action plans and truth. Lohrithe set down his carving to look Desrick in the eye. "And you know I will help."

 

[Flutterby]

Ora held Desrick's gaze, giving a couple half-shrugs with her left shoulder. First, when he expressed his disbelief, and second, when he complimented her for her honesty.
She remained silent, eyes broodingly switching between the others as they spoke. Her heart wrentched with Desrick's frantic questions, hardened against Song's denials, clamped up at Falsedge's statements.

She waited for a few moments after the others had pledged their help. She looked over at Falsedge, in a soft voice, "Not all of us were forced to this land by the powers that be. But all of us will be hung if it comes down to it."
She looked over at Rossarinya, then Lohr. The sweet-face elf looked so tortured by it all, and the midnight-skinned one had the same determination as the orc.
She looked over at said orc, dark features clearly conflicted. "I suppose I've already all but crossed that line, though." The statement was mostly to herself. Ora studied Desrick's face, unable to deny the fact that he had already earned far more loyalty than her country had in her entire life. As much as she hated that fact, it was just that, a fact. Not that she should admit that.
"I will help where I can, but I don't think it's wise to march into Evereach's court and demand answers."

 

[SilverFlight]

Desrick listened to Song carefully. She made very good points.
"You're right in that, a pack of orcs in your country would likely no escape notice for long. It would be easier to hide them in Cyndara for two reasons: the forest that borders our countries is both deep and thick. You will not see a fraction of what lies within it. The second reason is, any matters concerning orcs are subtly ignored by most other races. We are outcasts in all but name, and it wouldn't surprise me to learnt hat most would be happy to see us go."
Desrick sounded so bitter and hopeless it even made Crispin frown. The evidence of a battle years in the fighting was written on his jade-skinned features.
He almost smiled at Song's mention of tale-weaving. "Well then, if at least for your truths, we agree on going."
Nevina

After Falsedge's begrudging explanation Desrick did not press further. He could reign in his curiosity for now, as it seemed he had run his guest out of patience. She turned gratefully it seemed to the matter of the missing orcs.
He was surprised at her very astute observation. The sumennan band had been in precisely the wrong place at the wrong time. Had a neighboring band of orcs been the ones to spot them they would likely have tried to kill them on sight.
"You are right Falsedge. In Every way. I am beginning to think cunning is a necessity for survival among your people. Such paths of thought don't come easily to me."
Mythee

He looked gratefully at Rossarinya. "You have my thanks. I know you ahve your own concerns, but I believe that if we find the missing orcs, we may be able to answer more than one question."
deer

He knew he would hear Lohr's voice, and couldn't help but smile when the dark elf pledged his support. He wanted to hug him. The thought of impending war and entire villages of people missing frightened him, though he would never show it. Having Lorithe there beside him made the endeavor seem much less foreboding. Zazz

Ora spoke her piece and Desrick nodded in agreement. "I think the best way forward would be to revisit the empty villages and try to pick up a trail. Moving that many people would leave signs, and the forest speaks loudly to those who know how to listen."
Flutterby

As they had sat there speaking, some may have noticed the light from the crystal slowly begin to dim. It paled and took on a copper edge, almost as if the light were recreating its own tale of a sunset. The Cyndaran people had no concept of sunsets, so they simply called the hours when the crystal dimmed the 'rest marks'. Soon a soft purple glow spread out over the square, covering its occupants in a blanket of quiet light.
Desrick, his cup long finished at this point paid the barkeep and rose from his place, stretching out his thick limbs.
"It is getting to be time for sleep." He said softly before motioning for them to follow.
Desrick took them out of the square and through a collection of thick-trunked tree homes. Most had wooden steps that snaked their ways up the trunk, to stop at the glowing light of a door way overhead. The orc walked them past most of these, crossing a small wood bridge where a stream trickled lazily down its bed. Fragrant glowing flowers lined the small stone path and insects hovered through the air, flashing out their messages to one another in an array of colours.

They approached the end of a lane, where one final house stood. This one was embedded at the very bottom of a wide tree trunk, smaller rooms growing out of the main one and all lit with a welcoming yellow light. There was a figure at the door, short and portly for an elf, apron stained with the blueberries she had just been baking with, her hands still caked in flour. Her hair was hidden under a graceful lace bonnet and her dress, though simple was made of a miraculously beautiful blue fabric, shimmering in the light that flooded past her through the open door.
"Desrick!" She cried, rushing forward and jumping to throw her arms about the orc's broad shoulders. Desrick, who had known what was coming upon seeing his surrogate mother, hugged her back, only a little embarrassed as he glanced back at the others. Crispin was next and squirmed as his mother planted a big kiss on his cheek.
"And Lohr too! Oh it's wonderful to see you dear!" She moved to hug the dark elf too, always ready to consider him a part of the family. Once the pleasantries were done The woman fixed Desrick with a stern gaze. "You disappear for three days! No letters no bird! I've no idea when you're coming back or what you found. You should know better, and you too Crispin, you're just as bad as your brother--not you Lohr dear, I'm always happy to see you--off gallivanting about the forest fighting who knows what without so much as a hello and goodbye to your mother! Did you find the orcs?"
Desrick, always a man of few words simply looked abashed and stepped aside so his mother could see the rest of the party.
"Oh...those aren't orcs." Her small hands went to her mouth as she took in the beauty of the people before her. "My goodness, I'd never thought I'd live to see Sumennans...you're even more beautiful than our stories tell."
She smacked Crispin (because Desrick had wisely stepped back) "You couldn't have given me a minute's warning? Look at the state of me!"
Turning to her guests, expression melting into one of warm, heartfelt welcome she bustled them towards the open door.
"Meet our mother, Levinia." Desrick said, still a little cowed as he followed beside them. "She raised me from age eight and...well...you will be treated as her children...whether you like it or not."
"You're lucky I made stew for this evening Desrick or I'd have you out plucking pheasants until mid rest mark. Honestly, bringing home a small army to feed and bed--Now don't any of you worry about a thing, we'll have you taken care of right proper--and not a word about it! Desrick, Crispin you'll be sleeping in the shop by the way, your guests can have the upstairs rooms."

The house was modest but spacious, walls curved as they formed the trunk of the tree. There were windows fitted with smooth, clear glass. On the back wall was an iron wood stove and a wrack with skillets. There was a stone set fireplace embedded into the wall beside a clay bread oven from which the glorious smells of fresh bread could be detected. The other side of the room was set with plush cushions big enough for two people to sink into comfortably and a table set about with intricately decorated wood chairs. There was a staircase against one wall and underneath it a doorway to what looked like a carving workshop.
"Crispin, get upstairs and prepare the beds, I'll have your food here waiting once you're done." Crispin jumped to obey, he knew better than to argue.
Though Levinia was strict and her voice when she spoke to her sons had all the gentleness of a whip crack, one only needed to watch and listen to pick up the warmth of that house. Levinia was the heart of the family, and she was well-loved by every member.

Zazz deer Flutterby Mythee Nevina

 

[Flutterby]

Ora held Desrick's gaze steadily for a moment, and then gave a nod. A little part of her heart felt a thrill- she loved to hunt and track, and she wondered if this forest would speak to her the way that the ones in Sumenna did. She sat in silence, as the light around them grew orange, like the light of the Half-Sun Hills, and then purple. It was like the journey into Cyndara, condensed into about a mark. When she noticed, she turned to look at the lighting crystal. It had turned itself into the most beautiful, unearthly amethyst she had ever seen. It hypnotized her, until Desrick stood and told them to follow him to rest.
The walk to his home was peaceful enough to not break the spell of the dimming crystal, and Ora even reached out to try to touch a two-winged insect that she could have mistook for a small fruit.
The thing that broke that spell, was the boisterous cry of a woman greeting Desrick. The elf was shorter, squatter than most, and appeared to be in the middle of baking. Ora had a flash of a memory- the cook of the castle, sneaking her a tart before dinner. That cook had had a hideous mole on her face, but Desrick's mother didn't have such an obvious imperfection. Her face lit up at the sight of her boys, and the dress she wore sparkled as she bounded forward to hug and kiss them.
Ora's eyes widened subtly. The woman was chattering away, scolding them for not telling her where they had gone, at the same time as she was smothering affection on them. The dwarf looked like a horse about to spook.

Stepping into the house, Ora's mouth immediately watered at the aroma of fresh bread and stew. The tree was full of an atmosphere that she couldn't identify, and that made the hair at the back of her neck stand up. She searched for something to look at that was mildly familiar, and her eyes fell on the doorway under the stairs. It seemed to lead to some sort of wood shop, with the faint smell of lumber mingling with the dinner smells. Or was that just the fact that they were inside a tree?
Ora cleared her throat, and managed to get out, "Thank you for your hospitality."

 

[deer]

R

ossarinya hadn't realised how tense she was until she felt a gentle hand atop of hers, causing her to twitch slightly in her seat. Glancing down at the display of comfort, Rossarinya blinked back whatever liquid wanted to spill and form around her eyes. Feeling a lump in her throat, Rossarinya shook her head, willing herself to get a grip. She was exhausted, frustrated, and needless to say, her resolve was crumbling. Rossarinya could only imagine how Desrick was feeling, in fact, she empathised with the orc considering she was looking for someone as well. Once she found her composure again, she turned over to look at Lohrithe and gave him a small smile. She appreciated the drow’s small display of comfort towards her and couldn't help but feel guilty for being able to slightly relax from his reassurance. As Rossarinya turned to listen to Ora, Rossarinya nodded and agreed that she also came of her own accord. Although, it wouldn't have come as another surprise to her if she and the rest of her company were mere pawns to a much larger game play. It was never wise, to her understanding, to underestimate an opponent, even one they knew so well. The enemies and opponents you face sometimes are those you least expect.

Gathered out of her thoughts from a light tap on her shoulders, Rossarinya turned around to see a woman hand her a drink. Smiling gratefully, Rossarinya gently took the cup in her hands and thanked her. As her attention returned to the group as she heard Ora and Desrick's last words. Her brows furrowed together as her slender hands tightly gripped her cup when Desrick bitterly spoke about his kins. A part of her wanted to leap up and slam her hand on the table from the prejudice but knew well enough it wasn't her place to say anything. Turning towards Song, Rossarinya couldn't help but tilt her head, nodding. Tales? Songs? Rossarinya surely couldn't imagine she would be part of tales or even books one day in the future. If there was one. But, regardless, Rossarinya meekly nodded at Desrick's gratitude unsure if she should accept such a greeting.

But, when Desrick mentioned going back to the orc village and to revisit, her heart skipped a beat. Retracing their steps? Rossarinya couldn't help but blurt out, "Would. . .would the travel back towards the village be on the same path as the mist?" She questioned gently, a part of her feeling discomfort at the thought of the images the forsaken area brought. Feeling nervousness bubble in her chest, Rossarinya took a deep breath trying to find another source to keep her attention on. Within a blink of an eyes, she felt the light slowly dim around her and soon enough a purple hue casted over the village. Her eyes flickered towards her company for a moment, slightly daze before Desrick mentioned it was time for some rest.

Soon, Rossarinya gently stood up from her seat but not before softy patting Lohrithe's hand. As she travelled with the company through the village, her eyes remained alert and filled with awe and wonder once more, grateful to take the time to implement the scenery to her memory. The smell of the fragrant flowers that lined up the path of the bridge they crossed filled her nostrils with a pleasant scent as she took it in. The small insects that laid atop of the flowers made her smile and she couldn't help but allow the trickle sound of the water in the stream comfort her ears and soothe her. However, as they approached, Rossarinya's eyes widened as she gazed upon the Elven woman in front of the beautifully lit tree house. The blue fabric shimmered underneath the glimmering lights and Rossarinya couldn't help but jump slightly from the woman's outburst.

Taking a step back as the Elven woman hugged Desrick before heading along towards Crispin and Lohrithe, Rossarinya stood to the side, her feet nervously moving side by side as she wondered if this was Desrick and Crispin's mother. But, soon enough, the Elven woman went on a tangent, scolding the three boys for not writing to her and keeping her up-to-date. The warmth of the atmosphere she felt was not one she had felt before. . . at least in her household. Her mother, while nagging, did not show face of happiness or even joy at seeing her or her brothers whenever they arrived home. It was stern and stoic as always. However, here. . . right before her eyes. . . it was a loving home. The feeling at the pit of her stomach did not go away and her heart ached even more.

But, as the Elven's woman was drawn to her and her group from Summena, Rossarinya felt herself shrink back slightly only to hear that she felt inadequate in appearance to greek them. Lifting up her head as Rossarinya found the ground slightly more "interesting", Rossarinya couldn't help but let out a soft smile when she ushered them through the door. A small "thank you" escaped her lips as she passed through.

"O-oh." Rossarinya let out, slightly stammering, "Lady Levinia, thank you for kindly welcoming us into your home." She stated, her eyes scanning the inside of the house, feeling as if it was cozy and filled with mirth. It was spacious and although not as roomy as her own home, it felt. . . quaint. . and welcoming. The smell of bread seemed to have filtered through her nose as she hummed softly taking it in. "It smells wonderful in here." Rossarinya gently said as she observed her surroundings and watched as Crispin obeyed his mother's orders and went to prepare the beds. "If you don't mind. . . would you like some help setting and preparing the table?" She questioned, feeling as if it was only right to help out around the house not wanting to intrude even more than she already was despite feeling the need to wash up before dinner. It was the first time she was ever invited into another person's home and she hoped to make the best impression, fearing anyone's anger or impoliteness.

tags: SilverFlight , Zazz , Flutterby , Mythee , Nevina , The Suspicious Eye

 

[Mythee]

Rossarinya was more difficult to read than the half-dwarf Ora; the war djinn could make guesses as to the many valid reasons for the noblewoman to be uncomfortable, but as she'd thought earlier... There was no way to tell which way a wavering, feeling heart would blow in the wind.

Oralia was as much of a brave soul as Song, it seemed. "Cheers to that." She said, lifting her drink to the half-dwarf's words; indeed, marching into Evereach's court would only serve to doom both the search and the as-of-yet unclear cause.

Desrick's comment about the necessity of cunning in Summena rang true, especially in stark contrast to how the general populace had behaved with such welcome after the words of the Goddess had spread. "We're a difficult people at best. But frankly, from what you're saying and heh- what I've experienced, Cyndaran naïveté puts you at a disadvantage." The anti-violence stance had dug deep into this gentle culture. Despite having met the wood-elves with their arrowpoints face first, Falsedge had noticed the sparsity of what could be considered military forces. Few among the populace even carried weapons; a testament to the safety of their lifestyle. How sad that they had only come upon this fascinatingly peaceful society moments before it might come crumbling down. "A better nation and a darling people, living in such a fragile world." She said huskily in a tone that could be taken as an insult, though the observant might notice the bitterness in her frown and side-cast eyes.

The changing light drew Falsedge's attention, whose gaze briefly returned to the enormous crystal up there, again, not one to be fascinated by aesthetic beauty alone. Instead, it brought many other questions to mind. So it served the same purpose as a clock tower? She wondered if the people encountered in Cyndaran streets were any different in these hues of night.

"Time to sleep? What, in the middle of this conversation?" Oh Desrick. The day she'd see a grown orc speaking of curfew. Well, she supposed she needed her strength for what was to come. And she needed time to think. She got up from her seat promptly despite the complaint, strapping her half-mask back on properly. "-Right, let's see the face of whoever gave you such a good upbringing."

Falsedge hadn't been expecting Desricks mother's face to be that of a warm and jolly... wood-elf. Right, adoptive. She felt a little let down not to meet another orc, but this explained Crispin and probably had some interesting stories attached to it. The way Crispin wordlessly hopped right to his mother's commands like a legionnaire was entertaining, leading Falsedge to cast Desrick a sidelong look, brows raised. "I like your family, Desrick." She said, amused.

"Strength and honour, ma'am. The name's Falsedge." Her words seemed casually spoken, but she jokingly gave Levinia the stiff and formal salute of a soldier. "It would be discourteous of us to season your meal with our stench; we have been two weeks in wilderness, and I'm afraid we smell it." She made to grab Song by the shoulders, to make sure the light fairy understood she was part of that equation. It was with no small pleasure that this was something she could point out to the uppity noble. "You happen to have a bath?"

SilverFlight , Zazz , Flutterby , deer , Nevina , The Suspicious Eye

 

[cherub]

SOLDIER PVT. JAMES CIELO WOLKE​

Coat lazily hanging off of his shoulders, his diluted orbs of blue eyes peered over their hoods and elongated the reddened brim horizons of a restless night. His warm body produced the condensation of heat expelling him through his lips, touching cold air and rising up into his mess of loose dark hair, blending in and becoming lost as though his hair were nothing but hues of smoke and vapor itself. It certainly moved about like it, in cool winds of change.

With every step he took, he could feel the aglets of his boots hit at themselves, vibrations finding his numbing feet and just vaguely hearing them tap against the smooth leather over stiff grass. Every sound seemed muffled in slight echo of itself, between his own ears and the open space where it was so dark he wasn't completely sure of where he was supposed to be, other than the comprehension by eye of summenan footsteps in which he followed from far behind.

Diligent was he in pace, though in every few steps to foreign sound or movement did his free hand find one of two swords on his hip. Never drawn, no, only readily kept while his free hand held his travel bag, standard of all soldiers.

Already, he could find himself missing the sun and longing for her warmth. Odd was it, where the sun shined best his personal source of radiance was dimming by the second, withering into the cold of the Cyndarian air where his last hope lay with a ominous grin. In the shadows, waiting, wondering, pondering.

It wasn't long into the trees where he stumbled on himself, legs tiring and daring to give. He caught himself by the strong hand, spread into the could ground for wavering balance. His hair too shook forward in his lack of grace, disheveling itself more wild than before, over his nose and between his eyes. With a grunt, he lifted himself back up and slung the beige bag of stain and tear over his shoulder.

He caught their eye before they caught his, those elves. Wood elves, giggling and aware. Slowly he rose his hands, one free and the other dangling on the strap at his shoulder. A sense of;
Not to worry, I'm not here with the intention of trouble.

By whatever grace he did have, they understood, he was one of the Summenans if not obviously. And so they lead him some place, where his tired eyes wandered up and over, around and stumbling to avoid low branch and root. To a temple, he squinted and decided he couldn't have done any better. Left was a bell, and the voices of others inside. Some familiar, other's not, but it mattered not here. He was a kind soul, easy to get on with others. This was not a worry.

He raised a free hand to ring the bell of the door, exhaling greatly. It smelled of food, inviting a swift exhale and sure excitement when the door began to open.

"Ah- Hello, I'm James Wolke." He started, running a hand through his dark hair to remove it from the center of his face. "I'm aware of how late I am, but... I'm here for the Summenan meet." He spoke softly, not hearty of voice and apologetic of gaze. He was sure there had been much he had missed, and so what good was he only showing for dinner? To his hope, there would be something he could do to be of use to someone.

tags: SilverFlight , Zazz , Flutterby , deer , Nevina , The Suspicious Eye

 

[Zazz]

Lohrithe grinned and embraced Levinia as she came forth in all her motherly glory. She was a far better mother than his own, that was for sure. "They didn't really have a chance to send you a message," he said gently, defending Desrick and his brother. "Mm, it smells lovely in here. Have you been baking all day?" His voice was sweet as berries as he buttered her up. He looked to the light elf and nodded. "Yes, Rossarinya and I will set the table while the others.. er.. wash up." To be honest, the foreigners were rather rank; Falsedge and Song were especially dirty, despite all their glory. Lohrithe glanced at Falsedge and wondered if Song had seen her scars. Perhaps he would carve her a new mask - one a little less intimidating, but still worthy of the wearer.

The drow set to work getting the plates from the cupboards and handing them off to Rossarinya. He gave her a soft smile, his eyes strange as ever. "She is right, you know. Your folk are quite enchanting." deer

 

[SilverFlight]

"Oh nonsense!" Levinia waved a delicate hand in dismissal at Ora and Rossarinya, "It's not every day we get such exquisite guests. My stars but you are all lovely!"
Levinia wasted no time in taking a fresh loaf from the oven, wrapped in a thick cloth, and breaking it into pieces in a basket on the table. She bade them take while handing everyone who wished to help silk mats, cutlery, napkins and goblets.
"Cyndara bless you Lohr, you could teach my boys a thing or two about proper manners!" She cooed as she placed the napkins in his hands.
"Desrick, show your guests to the bath out back!" She called over a shoulder and Desrick, knowing that his mother did not ask twice, went to open the front door for Falsdedge and Song.
The man standing at the door was more than unexpected. Desrick blinked down at him in utter surprise.
"James." Desrick repeated in his smooth baritone. The man was slender, and weary, obviously. The fresh scent of temple incense coiled off his clothes. He had been appraised then. No danger. The orc stepped aside to allow him passage into his house.
"My mother is preparing a meal. She would be grateful for the help."
Flutterby deer Zazz cherub Mythee Nevina

He led the pair of Sumennan women around the back of the house where a natural tub had been grown out of the side of the trunk, bark sanded smooth. Beside it there were two shower stalls, cut and built this time, to give the bather a measure of privacy. Spouts were connected by a main water chute that could be opened with the pulling of a leaver.
"Water is warmed by the cooking fires, and mixed with cold pumped directly into the tree by the town's water wheels." Desrick pointed to one such wheel, churning it's merry way in a river not far from the house.
A sheltered cabinet held milk soap and towels and these he gave to his guests.
"Song, if you would like to change, I think you're about my mother's size...Falsedge...you could wear some of my clothes...with a belt."
He turned to go, the comical thought making him smile. "Come back in when you're done."
Mythee Nevina

It was not long before the dinner was laid out upon the table. Everything smelled divine. Crispin had prepared beds for each guests, though at least three people would be relegated to the workshop floor. Desrick and Crispin were assigned there automatically, and it was up to the others to choose who would go with them.
Desrick had had a chance to explain more to his mother as he helped her serve the food, so she understood why they had come to Cyndara, and what they intended to do.
"Well, I don't think you'll find any reason to worry while you're here dears. Cyndara has been a peaceful place for hundreds of years. War is against our principles. Now, don't wait until it gets cold, all of you eat up!"
It wasn't long before the door opened again and a tall elf with pale blonde hair came through the door. He had a gentle manner and seemed to have been informed about the guests at his house. "Goodness! There are more than I expected. Greetings to you all, I am called Aeden, welcome to our town of Delan."
Levinia rose with a smile and kissed her husband and together they sat down between Crispin and Desrick. The orc dwarfed the elven family to an almost comical degree and seemed to realize this as he sat hunched in a chair that had been made specifically to hold his bulk. It was clear that the orc would be reminded every day of how different he was from his surrogate family.
"I hope you've had some time to at least look around the town. I imagine things are quite different here." Aeden began, "The crystal for one. Its actually quite a powerful magical artifact. It doesn't just give us light, it tames the forest wherever its light touches. The darker things that exist here don't dare come near."
Flutterby deer Zazz cherub Mythee Nevina Rhaine

 

[Flutterby]

Ora took hold of anything Levinia handed her, placing them along the seats of the table as best she could remember. It had been a while since she set an actual table for a meal. She gave Song and Falsedge a glance when Falsedge spoke. The half-dwarf wouldn't mind a real bath- her latest had been a fully-clothed cold dunk in the river just after entering Cyndara. Which kept her personal stench relatively low, and the smell of the fresh bread was actually almost painful. A bath could wait until after food, certainly.

She was placing a set of cutlery on the far side of the table, when she noticed Desrick stop short at the door. a man stood there, dark-haired and weary-eyed. But Sumennan. A human soldier. Ora's gut clinched, and she dropped her head again. The light in the room glinted off the jewelry on her horn. You'll be lucky if he even recognizes you properly. ((welcome cherub !))
Ora clenched her teeth, and moved on to the next setting.

As dinner began, Ora looked at her chair crossly. With a small sigh, she collected her bedroll from her pack and plopped it onto the seat. At least she would be able to use the table. It would have bothered her deeply, but she caught Desrick having a similar frustration, and somehow that was comforting.
Levinia's husband had a soothing manner, and struck up conversation first.
Ora glanced at the other's, and said softly, "As someone who has spent their entire life looking at crystals, I can attest to that. It's unlike anything else."

 

[Nevina]

Between being swept in at arrow-point, the worrisome discussions at the bar, and weariness from their long flight from certain death, Song felt herself awash with gratitude at the prospect of saying farewell to all the grime and muck of their travels. She didn't even mind the lack of attendants to assist her in the task as she proceeded to strip and throw herself under the water, using liberal amounts of the milk soap on her glowing skin. She turned the water off, slipping from shower to tub as she kept her hair over the edge of the tub and began working the soap through her mass of long hair, lithe fingers working out knots from her curls, “I am surprised to say that this soap could give Summena’s a run for it’s coin. All these natural ingredients I’m sure. I could do with some oils, but this is certainly better than nothing.”

---
Falsedge took longer to undress, with several layers and armor to cast off her limbs. The events of the day stewing in her mind, she arrived to the shower in silence, washing off before getting to the bath. She noted the presence of a fogged-up mirror and splashed her face liberally while Song was looking away, not yet too keen on shocking her with the sight of her less graceful scarring. Those on her neck, arms and body, no longer covered by makeup or clothing, she'd figured the fae had grown used to already. After giving it a good scrub, she fixed her mask back to her jaw. It was uncomfortable with the humidity, but nothing that would test her endurance. Actually, Song hadn't seen her own face since the incident yet, had she?
“All of this, and you're talking about soap.” She said, stepping into the bath.
She hadn't shared one in a long time, and might have maintained some false decorum longer so that Song could ease into being treated like a peasant rather than a noble. Circumstances were different now, but all in all, she appeared to be taking to it like fish to water. It was interesting how Song’s faint glow diffused in the steam around her; perhaps thanks to the heat, she was not being pursued by a cloud of bugs this time. She might have even felt lonely if not for Falsedge, her hated guardian, being here with her. Song must have been accustomed to a multitude of servants assisting her every time she had bathed until now.

---

“Soap is an important topic,” Song defended with a light tone, her good mood relayed through a bright smile. She wanted to comment on her companion’s choice of mask even in bath, but such directness would be frowned upon in her family, and she felt that Falsedge might miss the more acceptable but subtle approach - despite the fact that Falsedge had picked up on every subtle jab thus far and was well versed in Summenan culture. Her opinion of Falsedge was still tinged with bias and distaste.

Soapy hair untangled, she twisted her curls into a bun to keep it from the clear bath water, letting the soap sit until she deemed ready to rinse off back in the shower later. Turning her attention back to the warrior, “We really ought to work on your so..” A pause as her eyes flicked back up, “Social skills.”

After all this time, it was only now that Song had bothered to look at Falsedge beyond eye contact. She had spent their entire journey sulking and avoiding her loathsome companion, but now in such a revealing context, there was no avoiding the evidence of Falsedge’s lifestyle written across her body. The talkative noble fae had almost let her mouth drop open upon seeing Falsedge’s hand, the two shortened fingers a grotesque reminder of a violent existence. Yet, strangely, beyond her knee-jerk reaction of disgust, Song wanted to ask for Falsedge’s story, each scar promising a strange tale. As much as she hated Falsedge, she could no longer deny her burning questions as to why the fighter came to her aid. What all had Falsedge given up to come on this journey? More questions she hadn’t asked herself until now.

Clearing her throat, Song focused once more on the conversation at hand, distracting herself from the other woman’s appearance, “We ought to avoid alienating our hosts. This seems to be the best case scenario as far as I am concerned, where we have a chance at some semblance of life beyond trudging through the trees. I don’t know why you speak so harshly all the time, but such manner of speech puts us at risk here. What are you trying to prove by provoking others as you do?”

---
With her mastery of discipline, Falsedge had not ogled at the light fae’s body, though she could certainly appreciate the Lambent nobles beauty. Eye contact was maintained with a twinkle of amusement when she noted the… interruption in Song’s words. The light fae’s revulsion stung no more than it should; these were old wounds that she’d long accepted. Fear and disgust was all she could have expected from exposing them. Lohrithe had displayed his own scars without issue, however. Cyndarans did not seem to take imperfection for unsightliness. Song was a social creature, like to pick up on cues and adapt to the culture. The shaksran’s studded brow twitched, not wishing to acknowledge that she might actually hope for her charge to get used to her appearance.
"Interesting concerns you have. It would suggest that you can picture a monster like me, living with others, shoving a... Let's say rocky past under the rug. And here I thought you'd been growing your justice streak.”
The war djinn’s ultramarine blue hair was not quite so long that she had to put it up for the bath; out of its ponytail and after the soap had been washed out and made even slicker by the water, it fell to her shoulders. She brushed it back with a hand, getting a few strands out of her face.
“Even though until I helped you escape my actions were 'lawful', they would not be judged in the same manner by Cyndara. Try thinking about where that puts you for holding my secrets, dear 'accomplice'- and I doubt your discretion was for my sake. You’re just protecting your own image by giving off the impression of holding better company than you actually have. Social ladders are the game you nobles are bred to play- don’t go pretending that’s not how you think. I have my habits, you have yours, and neither is sincere.”
She spoke like she was just airing her thoughts, feigning enjoyment with her metallic voice despite the weight that sank in the pit of her stomach as she deliberated redirected the topic to Song instead of herself. There was a nauseating admittance that could have threatened to break the surface- that the entire identity she had clung to was already trashed and disposed of, making all of this, from her hostile calm to her psychoanalyses that picked apart at others, nothing but a clockwork running on phantom force, threatening to stop once it realizes there was nothing left to drive it. And yet it just ground onwards.

---

"They let you in with their goddess thing," Song waved her hand airily, "They don't seem to care of your past if it's from another country, lawless or not. I don't know what sense of justice there is here, but I do hope you have the sense to stop following laws when they impovish and torture others so. Become a pig butcher if you desire blood." She huffed, once again failing to understand Falsedge's perspective.

Song shifted in the water, ripples crossing the surface in gentle flashes under light and shadow, "I do believe you can manage to live with others if you just temper your words. They don't have to be a facade, you know. The point of conversation is to make others understand your intention, which you haven't been doing. You're just poking them with a stick to get your point across, and no one is going to understand your point with a stick."

The fae pointedly ignored the turn of topic to herself, pursing her lips. Not because she was shamed by it's truth, but rather that she was confused that.. it wasn't the truth. She wasn't attempting to better Falsedge for the sake of her own reputation, which did sound like the rational option, and was one she had indeed been concerned about back at the House. Since their flight, however.. Song frowned, wondering if perhaps her own perspective had started shifting even before their flight. She had no reason to feel responsible for Falsedge, much less concerned with how others accept the warrior into their fold. More thoughts that she didn’t want to consider.

Failing to stay off the topic of herself any longer, she added, "Besides, your presence won't ruin my reputation. It is clear for any to see that I am an irresistibly gracious and admirable being." Her eyes twinkled once more with factual confidence.

---
Falsedge’s arm fell back into the water with a splash, speechless for a second at the light fae’s bold confidence. Not to say that it wasn’t a welcome sight that she’d made such a recovery after her traumatic incident, but maybe the Cyndarans sparkly-eyed admiration of her beauty wasn’t doing any favors to her ego.
"You think I agreed with the laws?” She scoffed, but didn’t leave Song time to respond. “Take that bleeding heart of yours and think of how betrayed the poor sods would feel if I were to let them get attached to some sinless, pleasant façade of mine, only to find out later that I should have been detested. Not to say that I intend to become an honest person, but to keep them at personal distance is really doing them a favor, isn't it? The warning colors of a venomous beast are nature's consideration." She gestured with a shrug, equating her abrasiveness to such common sense.

---

The noble fae nearly missed hearing the rest of Falsedge’s speech, honed in as she was on that first statement. Like a dog with a bone (except not, because that analogy is clearly too peasant for one such as she), Song burst out a singular sharp laugh of disbelief, “Of course you agreed with the laws! Who else but you would follow them so exactly! Any other would recognize that the law is just to scare people, not meant to be followed so exactly. Others would have shown mercy! What mercy did you ever have?”

 

[Mythee]

---
Falsedge rolled her eyes, letting out a sigh of exasperation. Of course Song would lock onto that. It was her own fault for having been honest for once, confusing the fae to a point she’d get this worked up. The war djinn leaned forward, looking her clear in the eyes.
“So you pretend to remain naive, even after denouncing your House. I was but one arm of the law, responsible for a small and narrow part of its injustices. The difference is that I brought it out into the open. My mercy is that I let people see the true shape of their masters, even as I played the loyal hound. Ask your own face if my aim was true.” It was with mounting discomfort that she had begun to explain herself, like a snake caught shedding its skin- naked and vulnerable. Well, she supposed she was naked, so that’s not entirely wrong. Anyway, this conversation needed to end.
"Enough about the past. Are you really this afraid that my goddess-approved presence and the protection it grants you will be rescinded over such a petty matter as 'the stranger's personality irritates me',” she made air quotes with her fingers around that phrase spoken in a comically whiny voice, “-or that desperate Desrick would no longer require our precious aid? Don't be ridiculous. You should assure yourself I'm not about to risk this operation, or my obligation towards you, by doing anything outside the bounds of their ample forgiveness and tolerance.”

---

Okay, fine, so Falsedge had a point in Song's own false naivety. The warrior wasn’t the only one to follow the law so exactly, and she hated that Falsedge was right. She hated that their society allowed it. That Falsedge partook and upheld it.

The other woman's words stung as pale fingers gingerly reached to touch her own face. The water between them reflected the light of the moon, Song's own face staring at her on the wavering and broken surface. She had nearly forgotten the cut was there after the events of the day, and she hadn't actually seen the wound since she first obtained it. For all her disgust at Falsedge, she found herself repulsed by her own appearance most of all, and looked angrily back up at her companion.

With the tenacity worthy of one who haggled for the best of prices, the glowing fae once more refused the topic change. Lashing out with a quiet, bitter tone, "No, not 'enough about the past,' it clings even now in the present. The only thing that changed was my face, Khuda. The citizens will still suffer. If that was truly your aim, you ought avoid partaking in to archery." Seething, Song stood upright and stepped out of the tub, turning the shower back on to rinse out her hair.

Song wanted to deny Falsedge's claims, to decry their validity, to point out their ridiculousness. Yet it was the one sole answer that bore any feasible logic to the one burning question: Why had Falsedge saved her, abandoning her own life in the process? But if Falsedge was truly concerned about their laws and society, she certainly went about it in a terrible manner. How many lives were ruined for that failed gamble? What part of society had she hoped to change with her methods? None of it made sense. Turning the shower off, the chill air bit at her skin, and she scuttled back into the warm bath.

“Alright,” She began, her temper back under control, “Lets say you murdered citizens with that great big heart of yours. What would you do next? They have no need of your.. Generosity here.”

---
Falsedge's eyes narrowed when Song returned, again, to the unwanted subject, even going so far as to use her real name- but also spoke of the suffering of citizens. "Stubborn woman. I suppose I deserve this." She stood up and stretched forward and back with the sound of a few cracking vertebrae, turned away so that the light fae could not see the look of pride on her face. She headed for that final rinse after the bath. "I wonder what the tale of your departure will be back in Summena. How far word will travel. Sometimes, change just needs a little inspiration, don't you think. I’ve assessed the results of my form of inspiration, and it was sufficient from a cost-assessment perspective."
None could say what the even longer-term effects would be- either of the tales of brutality brought to light or the tale of martyrdom that had come to pass.
She began to dry off.
“I wouldn’t go so far as to claim to have a heart, but you’re surprisingly on-target. I am a soldier left in dearth of duty. A tool for violence is more at ease when it knows where to point itself. Good thing for me, the world never fails to provide, and we can already hear the beating of war drums.”
She wasn’t done pretending, herself- but it did not feel like a lie to Falsedge, who hadn’t seen herself as more than the means to an end for the entirety of her adult life. For any pangs she felt, she questioned their validity given their source. What now, she asks?
“So we learn of what there is to make of this, and I see to it that you succeed at doing what you must.”

---

“The tale will be as grand and fantastical as any other scandal I’m sure. I imagine there’s a few musical renditions out by now.” Song grumbled, knowing the rumors would paint her as a hideous creature who sought to dismantle their utopian society, and it would likely persist for months on end. Everyone loved a good scandal.

“There need be no drums beating, I’ll see to that much. You best consider other occupations in the meantime for when we render murder useless. Perhaps a nice scribe desk.” She stared defiantly, a wry smirk tipping the tip of her lips. Song was but one fae in a vast and complex world, and she still wasn’t sure where she fit in with everything. Yet perhaps she could finally see something beyond simply surviving.

When Falsedge finished drying off, Song stood upright in the glowing mist of the tub, her arms held wide as she waited expectantly, muscle memory having taken over from the noble days of attendants swarming her, “Fetch the towel, then.”

---
What? Halfway through slinging on a loose linen shirt she’d acquired from Desrick’s wardrobe, Fals found herself questioning her hearing. Did Song expect her to wait on her in the bath? Hunting, setting up camp, escorting and preparing meals for her was one thing, but coddling and dressing her would be another entirely. She trudged over to the light fae, grabbing the towel on her way.
“Sure, let me just get that- Oh waaait, I just remembered something, I’m not one of your bath serfs!” She spoke as if she’d just realized it herself, and shoved Song back into the water with one sudden, decisive push of the shoulder.
“Oopsies. Heheheh.” She curled her hands in faux bashfulness and snickered to herself as she returned to getting dressed with the belt and leather pants. She had also found some gloves, unlikely to be Desrick’s for those would have been comically large-fingered. The result was so much plainer, so much less official than her usual uniformed and boldly emblazoned look, that she could hardly even recognize herself in the mirror if not for the damned mismatched half-mask. But this kind of airy, simple look didn’t drape so badly on her tall physique. Seriously, as if that conversation hadn’t been destabilizing enough. “Hm.”
She glanced back at Song. “You know, I'd have expected you to feel validated by the company you’ll find in dislike of me. I've heard enough of your pretentious gossip to tell. Now hurry and get dressed yourself, you’re a big girl now and dinner awaits. If you want me to talk less, do your part wheedling information on their background and connections out of them so that I don’t have to. We need to know what’s at stake for them." ‘We’ this, ‘we’ that. It was like they were at the start of a dysfunctional little family.

---

“KYA!” Song squeaked as she fell back, wet feet giving no grip as water sloshed over the sides of the tub in a dramatic wave. Indignant, she sat upright and gripped the sides, “Fiend! You're a blight on the sun, you villainous beef-witted prune! Not even a rampallian would deign to be in your mottled presence, you craven harpy! I ought to send your greasy, onion-eyed barnacle to the mists!”

Angrily grabbing at the towel, she patted herself down and tugged the clothes on, pointedly avoiding looking at Falsedge. It was always a great insult in Lambent for one’s existence to not be acknowledged. Feeling better already after having given proper admonishment, the fae peered down at herself. The provided clothes lacked the smooth, cool texture of silk, but they weren’t uncomfortable. It looked alien on her, and she wasn’t sure what to make of it. The colors were much too muted for House Lambent standards, which was more akin to a blazing rainbow spanning the entire color spectrum. What was this outfit’s fashion status in these lands? Peasant, she assumed. Regardless, she was thankful that it didn’t smell of sweat, and it was like to help her blend in. She left her own cloak off, glowing skin exposed as she had no plans to leave the house for the rest of the night. Scooping worn clothes between her arms, she looked away as she passed the mirror, pausing at the door, “We will have time to learn more tomorrow as well. I think it best if we can eat and rest for the night. You don’t need to be on mission every waking moment, you know. Perhaps it’s a good time to learn what life is like outside of being a soldier.”

---
She had begun to grab her things, still snickering over the most excellent string of insults Song had ever tossed her way. “Are those the lyrics to your next composition I just heard? Veeery poetic.” She mused aloud, sorting the things she’d wash later into a bag. Summenan garb or not, she wasn’t going to be dressing down for their ‘mission’ the next day. A certain sealed container gave her pause, and she took it, raising it up from her crouched position for the light fae to see. For her work, it had been essential to make herself presentable. At her station, she had been provided with the quality materials with which she could complete her tasks. It was no longer necessary.
“Hold- This is makeup for any complexion. I no longer need it. If you wish to, use it to lighten up your scar.”
Song’s last suggestion was a scary one.
“You know Shaksran are raised for soldiering from infancy, right? I literally have no idea how to be anything else, so kindly never suggest that again, it sends shivers down my spine. Just don’t slack off too much, civilian.” She clapped the light fae on the back before she began to walk back to the rest of the group, this time without tossing her into any baths.

There was a new Summenan figure in the kitchen when she arrived, prompting Fals to look quickly between each pair of eyes and the new arrival.
“Well then. Falsedge, a pleasure.” She introduced herself, then looked toward Ora and Rossarinya for answers. “Did you know he was coming?”

Flutterby deer Zazz cherub Rhaine SilverFlight

 

[Nevina]

Song accepted the makeup without comment, nodding in gratitude. “I’m sure you’ll manage, shivers and all.” She smirked, then waved Falsedge through without following. The noble fae turned to the mirror, touching the mark across her face. Her standards for herself were held much higher than she would hold anyone else, and the mark was a grisly appearance on an otherwise delicate face. She hated seeing it and yet, as she held the makeup container, she couldn’t bring herself to use it. On some level, she was still proud of her actions and didn’t want to take it back. The makeup felt like it would be cheating.

She stuffed the small container into one of the inner pockets of her cloak, took a deep breath, then returned to the smells of cooked dinner and cozy warm lights. "Oh, more new faces! A pleasure!" She curtsied in greeting.

 

[Zazz]

Lohrithe glanced the way of the newcomer with curiosity in his dark eyes. Another Sumennan. "Greetings, foreigner. I am Lohrithe." Then came Aeden, Crispin's father, to whom the drow bowed his head in greeting.

The dark elf took his seat by Ora, his interest set on her new jewelry. "Do you have this stone where you are from?" He reached out to touch the ring, but hesitated and dropped his hand. "Er, sorry." Lohrithe bit his lip. He just wanted to touch every beautiful thing he found.

 

[Flutterby]

Ora was intensely eyeing the basket of bread at the end of the table, wishing someone would pass it along, or that she had thought to sit near it in the first place. She was not a talented baker- or a baker at all. Bread meant a trip to the market, a trip out in public.
Her eyes darted up only briefly to look at Falsedge and Song, because Falsedge spoke as they walked in. It was hard to see a difference in Falsedge's appearance; she was still wearing the mask, and had covered herself well with a motley collection of Desrick's clothes. Song, on the other hand, only glowed more obviously now that her skin was soaped clean. The scar, too, was more noticable now that the rest of her skin was restored to perfection. Ora tried hard not to stare, mostly by looking back at Falsedge and then Rossarinya. She gave an unrufffled shrug, and said simply, "I thought I would be the only late-comer, but I've already been proven wrong several times. This whole thing is weird."
Mythee Nevina deer cherub

The night-skinned drow sat down beside her, immediately setting his eyes on her new piece of jewelry. He reached out to touch it. Ora's stomach clenched. He drew his hand away, and apologized. Ora's heart sank.
"It's alright, Lohr." She said, her tone softening almost to the degree the child Tomo had earned. She reached up and pulled the ring from her horn, holding it out to him to look at more closely. The sight of the silver and green piece gave her a flash of excitement.
"We don't have this stone, or at least, the dwarves don't mine it much. Other races don't mine, at all really, so if the dwarves don't mine it, it is rare to see it. The merchant said that it is found near copper ore, so I would guess it is ignored in favor of the metal. Maybe Rossarinya has seen it in jewelry, but it is much less common than rubies or other harder gems."
She reached out to take it back, and returned it to its place on her extra appendage, just at the edge of her vision.
Zazz
Her attention returned to the food, the bread, and she tried to catch the eye of someone sitting near the basket.

 

[Zazz]

The dark elf smiled with a similar excitement to Ora's at the horn ring in the palm of his hand. It had a nice, smooth finish. Handing it back to its owner, he told her, "My people, the drow, we mine as well. We live underground, and our community must carve out the rock to make space. Often, our gems and stones are used for trade across Cyndara." Lohrithe pulled a few more shinies from his pocket and laid them on the table in front of Ora.

"Would someone please pass the bread?" It came his way by a hand and he took some for himself before noticing Ora's hungry eyes. "Did you want some?" Lohrithe offered, holding it out to her.

 

[deer]

H

eated rosiness radiated on the She-Elf’s soft cheeks as she fought the urge to pull her hair back behind her ears or hide away behind the sleeves of her attire as if she could block the compliments and attention Lady Levinia was sending towards her and her company. If hiding behind Ora, Falsedge, or even Song was an option, she would have done so, but even in the comforts of the welcoming and accepting atmosphere, her shoulders and posture couldn’t relax. It was foreign to her, however, Desrick has been nothing but open and truthful. He was right that they would be treated like one of her own. It was a pleasant feeling, a little unnerving, but regardless, it was a fleeting moment and Rossarinya knew she wouldn’t be able to get used to or should enjoy. The green little demons were showing as time passed and Rossarinya hated feeling such and even more so, she felt guilt illuminate through her the more she stayed in Cyndara. How was she suppose to know she would feel these emotions she’s never felt before here in this new world? Her heart was at odds and even more so now that she knew she shouldn’t be getting attached, much less, display her heart and emotion on her sleeve as she had done in the past days. You’re unraveling.

As Lohrithe went from behind and offered to help set up the table, Rossarinya nodded as she gently took the plates he had handed to her. Her emerald eyes stared into Lohrithe’s eyes for a second, gauging his gaze especially his eyes. For a moment, she had been lost in thought before his voice brought her back down and another shade of pink made way to her face. Turning to quickly look away from Lohrithe, her attention set on Ora as the half-dwarf began to set up the table with both she and Lohrithe. Rossarinya hadn’t realised she had been staring long but meekly nodded, whispering a low, ”Thank you.” It came to a surprise to her at seeing his genuineness. A part of her felt laughter echo in her ears as she shut her eyes quickly of the notion before she ignored the feeling of uncomfortableness settling in the pit of her stomach. She wasn’t used to the attention much less so many compliments that she found herself believing and paying attention to. ”Cyndara is beautiful. What has been painted of this place and it’s people, including orcs and others alike, is not what it seems.” She finished softly, going quiet as she looked over towards Falsedge and Song. The djinn’s question if there was a bath eased Rossarinya’s mind for a moment. She could use the time after dinner to soak in the hot water. A small grateful tug of her heart pulled on her heart string as she sighed in relief when Lady Levinia allowed them to intrude in more than just sleeping in the comforts of her home. [ Zazz , Flutterby ]

However, as Desrick went to show the djinn and fae the baths, Rossarinya tilted her head in curiosity as her attention went to the front. Heading her voice she hadn’t recognised, Rossarinya was curious if the family were expecting company. But, as Desrick stepped aside to allow the newcomer inside, Rossarinya nearly dropped her plate as she was finishing a setting across from Ora. A human soldier. A Summenan.

All the worries she tried to suppress came pouring over once more as she couldn’t help but stare him before clearing her throat, making her way over towards him in a gentle glide,”Welcome, my name is Rossarinya Bellethiel. House Bellthiel.” She politely introduced herself, realising it was the second time she officially and formally greeted someone other than Song. [ cherub , Nevina ]

But, as she studied the figure before her, Rossarinya couldn’t help but find her head tilting up just to maintain eye contact with the male. However, as her emerald eyes scanned the dark-haired male, Rossarinya inaudible gasped, her eyes almost widenly as she saw the all-too familiar earring on his ears. ”That . . . earring. You. . .” She started, only to stop as she realised how rude she was being. [ cherub ]

“I. . I am sorry.”She quickly voiced out, flustered, only to hand him a cutlery. “Here . . you are. If you would like to help?” Turning around, Rossarinya walked back to the kitchen, sighing inwardly as she shook her head, purposefully ignoring what she just did. How embarrassing and disappointing, Rossarinya. [ cherub ]

Soon, it was time for dinner to begin and with the appearance of Falsedge and Song, Rossarinya took the time to actually take in her companions appearances. She had been too wrapped up with all of the chaos that she didn’t take her time to compliment or even take a proper look of those around her. It escaped Rossarinya’s notice, however it did was a careless and quite thoughtless of her, but seeing the djinn next to the fae, Rossarinya felt as if there was a story, especially seeing Falsedge’s mask and her ultramarine blue hair competed to the lighter and golden curled hair of the fae next to her. Although some truths were spilled at the bar, Rossarinya’s curiosity heightened. With Song’s love for stories and Falsedge’s experiences, Rossarinya wondered what to make of the duo. It’s not everyday Rossarinya encountered such an enigma. But at Falsedge’s question if she and Ora knew the newcomer, Rossarinya, like she had done before, quietly had Ora speak first. At Ora’s glance towards her when she answered Falsedge’s question, a small giggle and smile escaped her lips before she cleared her throat. ”This would be our first time meeting and it seems he was as lost as I getting here.” Rossarinya stated before smiling at Song’s enthusiasm. [ Nevina , Mythee ]

Soon, Lohrithe introduced himself and spoke out Ora. Taking the moment, Rossarinya’s eyes went towards Ora and whether Ora believed it or not, Rossarinya found the half-dwarf to be cut from the same cloth as her, despite two seperate lives. The jewelry that glimmered under the light shined in front of her as Rossarinya softly glanced at her horn and tail. It was intriguing. But, when her attention went towards Lohrithe next, Rossarinya quickly found herself turning her eyes and head away with reddened cheeks. How had she not taken note of the night elf’s shirtlessness? Biting her lip as she hoped no one saw her reaction, Rossarinya merely felt like a idiot for not realising sooner after being so close to him. Perhaps she, too, was enchanted by him. Nevertheless, Rossarinya looked around and saw Desrick. He, too, had only on a vest and no other garments to cover up. “Is it considered normal to show so much skin?” Rossarinya blurted out, not realised she wasn’t voicing her opinions in her head. [ Flutterby , SilverFlight , Zazz ]

“Oh! I . . .”She quickly started, tongue - twisting herself as she slightly squeaked. “I . . apologise. That was rude of me. I . . in Cyndara, is it not customary to cover-up?” Rossarinya tried to rectify, clearing her throat as her hand fidgeted under the table. [ SilverFlight , Zazz ]

With the sound of the door opening once more, Rossarinya took the opportunity to look to see who it was. Seeing the Elven walking into the kitchen, she felt the aura of the male realising he must be Head of the House. However, when Lady Levinia and Lord Aedan greeted each other, Rossarinya found interest in the goblet, not wanting to intrude on a moment. It was slightly odd and different to see such display of affections inside the household. Her mother and father were nothing like that. With a small head bow in greeting towards Lord Aedan, Rossarinya listened quietly as she looked over to see Lohrithe and Ora, smiling before extending her head to grab the basket of bread, handing it to the both of them. However, when Lord Aedan spoke of the crystal’s light, Rossarinya curiously listened.

“Are there any stories about these darker matters that are considered legends or myths in Cyndara?” She questioned, hoping she wasn’t prying too much, she just loved stories and she hoped to hear a story often told in Cyndara.

tags: SilverFlight , cherub , Flutterby , Mythee , Nevina , Zazz , Rhaine , The Suspicious Eye

 

[Flutterby]

Ora eyed the small gems he pulled from his pocket, reaching out and picking one up to look at more closely.
"This." she said, showing which one she meant. It looked like it might be some kind of opal, but it had some kind of glow that seemed off. "Is a softer stone than the dwarves would usually mine. They like to mine harder gemstones. It's not uncommon to ignore softer ores and stones." She paused, and pointed to another one that was blue and seemed to glow even more, "And things don't glow like that in Sumenna."
She returned the stones to him, as he was receiving the bread, mouth watering.
"I can't bake bread for a donkey's arse," She muttered as she took one, then two, large pieces. She took a hefty bite, and melted into a puddle of satisfaction. "And I really wish I could." Her eyes glowed with the pure joy of carb consumption.
Zazz
She fell quiet, eyes darting between Rossarinya and the elf, as she chewed on her bread. The idea of Cyndara's darker side intrigued her. Was it as savage as the stories said? How would a crystal, glowing as it was, keep something like that at bay? You dim wit, don't you think the goddess would have more to do with that? Ora ignored that little point, because religion was one of her least favorite topics.

 

[SilverFlight]

Levinia sniffed at her largest son. "When the meal is over dear, you'll be out washing next."
Desrick paused, the spoon midway to his mouth before he nodded obediently. It was Rossarinya's next remark that made him pause again, and look down at the green skin beneath his leather vest.
"I suppose I've never really considered it. It seems cultural. Woodelves tend to wear more clothes. Drow and Orcs wear less." The orc shifted uncomfortably, suddenly aware of something new. "Does...does it bother you?"

Aeden replied to the questions about the darker aspects of Cyndara with a serious calm. "The wilds of this land are not modest, and should never be taken lightly. The node crystals have paved the way for the progress of our civilization, but even then only united can we hope to live here without hindrance. It is part of why our principles advocate so fiercely for peace and cooperation. There are very few who can navigate the wilds of Noend without incident. Desrick, luckily, happens to be one of them."
"Orcs generally have a knack for it." Crispin added with a hint of envy. "You're generally always safe if you have one with you."

"Well, we should sort this out sooner rather than later, I know it's not a glowing prospect, but some of you will have to share the shop floor with my sons, there aren't enough beds for all." Levinia said this cheerfully, which earned her exclamations of hurt from Crispin and Desrick both.
"Now that stings mother, we don't snore, not even Des though he looks like he could bring the house down!"
Desrick cuffed him playfully and Crispin hit back as they laughed together.
"Yes, and I already promised to bathe." Desrick reconfirmed in a mock-solemn tone.

((I'll let cherub post once more and then I will time skip))

Zazz deer Rhaine cherub Mythee Flutterby Nevina

 

[cherub]

SOLDIER PVT. JAMES CIELO WOLKE​

James’ round eyes widened to see the tall man addressing him, widened even more to his deep baritone voice. He was used to feeling some degree of small compared to some older and other soldiers, but this was no soldier. No human man even, but an Orc. Wow, he’d never met one before this point. That’d be something to tell his mother.

”Yes, sir.” He spoke after his name, nodding once. And, It was with a great sigh he was relieved to have been given the opportunity to slip right into the group after his previous absence. A small smile returned to his face, careful to not stare as to be rude in ignorace for having been exposed to new surroundings. It was a good experience, and as suggested he entered the home. [ SilverFlight ]

With this, the smell of food hit the young man’s nose as he moved towards the kitchen, greeted by a dark elf briefly in the path. “James, ‘nice to meet you Lohrithe.” He spoke low as to not disrupt anyone elses interaction in getting to know one another.

The kitchen was warm and smelled just as inviting while his eyes fell upon more faces, a she-elf with gorgeous hair of rose creme, and forrest-frosted orbs for eyes. He’d met her some times before, only briefly. It was refreshing to see a familiar face, though beside her a less familiar but also stunning. She seemed of human and forrest magic, her head low as though possibly to hide or shield herself. He’d never seen horns gleam in light like her own, perhaps she was only showing them off. He decided, if he had horns such as hers he’d show them off too. [ deer , Flutterby ]

The summenan she-elf spoke first, a kind greeting to which he tilted his head in a mixture of bow and salute with two fingers briefly brushing his temple. ”Rossarinya Bellethiel.” He spoke it slowly, as though careful when holding her name, to not mix it up, to not sound so uncultured. It was a beautiful name to touch both tongues, even more when said properly. ”I’m James Wolke, Brynson soldier.” His eye-lids hung low over the blue hues in his eyes in their tired daze, where he seemed to wake up just a little in light of being in his destination. [ deer ]

His first proper greeting here, sparked by what seemed of genuine intent. His pink lips of gloss curled crooked in a smile as he went to immediately drop his bag with the jacket on top in a corner tucked away, and to wash his hands at the sink before touching any food.

Under the jacket was a simple tshirt, dark blue and tucked into his uniform pants. It fitted him well, displayed his arms in their scarrings and muscle definition. Shortly behind, he could hear the mention of his earring by the softest of voices, which had to have belonged to the she-elf. He turned, drying his hands chuckling quietly at her interest, waving away her apology. He took the cutlery, a vague dimple showing in his cheek as he began to say, ”Yes I would, and there’s no need to apologize for anything-...” But like that, the she-elf was turned away and walking. With furrowed brows he bit his lip in thought, what that was all about. She wasn’t the only to have asked of his earring, in fact he didn’t mind talking about it. It was part of him now, and was such a big part of he and his mother’s bond. [ deer ]

Putting the encounter aside, he prepared what he could, helped with what he could. Outside of the kitchen, where he could see were more new faces to greet. Raising a seasoned hand, he greeted the fairy of curls and the masked djinn. ”Pleasure’s mine!” [ Nevina Mythee ]]

It wasn’t long before dinner was ready, and where the others gathered, he too found a place with them. For the most part he tried to stay out of the way, and had brought his belongings close. There wasn’t much of it really, so it sat perfectly in his lap, jacket and all.

To the mention of the bedding situation, his ears only perked briefly, for he could sleep anywhere. He was more than fine with sleeping upon the floor, and would gladly do so without having to be asked.

tags: SilverFlight , Zazz , Flutterby , deer , Nevina , The Suspicious Eye

 

[Mythee]

Ugh. Song's enthusiastic greeting toward the new Summenan face belied no sense of danger. They hadn't heard of this one- how many more were there, and had Rossarinya and Ora lied about their numbers? She couldn't tell from the horned half-dwarf's noncommittal answer, and neither could she tell from Rossarinya's... well, the elven beauty hadn't seemed quite at ease for as long as Fals had known her, now. That moment of feebleness she had witnessed at the temple flashed through memory. It wasn't like that she would divulge the reasons in the open, and Fals wondered if she could rope Song into talking to her fellow noblewoman one-on-one.
She glanced back at the light fae, blinking in surprise that she had arrived without covering up her scar despite the near-constant shows of vanity. How interesting.

Falsedge raised her brow at the raven-haired man's eager return greeting. Unlike Song, she didn't like the looks of his brazen and late arrival. It was suspicious. He was keeping admirable decorum for one who should have been meeting an orc for the first time. "All right prettyboy, impressive you made it here in once piece alone. Just so you know, we've been told all about this little operation." She kept a piercing gaze on him long enough to evaluate his reaction to those words- any show of feeling that could betray his loyalties. cherub

Fals followed that up by grabbing some eats from the table before seating herself on the floor, given the limited chairs; the hardest asses get the floor, it was only natural.

Rossarinya's shyness about the shirtless Cyndarans elicited a snort. "At this juncture, I'm convinced the story we Summenans hear about you all is some age-old mistranslation of 'exhibitionist' into 'savage beast'." deer
The metal mask had returned to hinging, pulled to one side briefly every time she took a bite or sip of the soup. It was warm food, replenishing. She was thankful for the meal.
Desrick's words about the wilds were accurate, as Song and Falsedge had experienced themselves. If the light fae had been on her own, she would be fertilizer by now.
"Surprised people didn't take to the orcs as mercenary guards, then." She responded to Crispin's comment, then spoke to Desrick, who had reason to wish for an improvement to interracial relationships. "Wherever brutality and survival remain two sides of the same coin, capable warriors are essentially mobile node crystals. The way I see it, Cyndarans are putting all of their eggs in one basket." She left the rest unsaid. If something happened to the town's one source of protection, they'll have alienated their best line of defense. On the flipside, if Orcs ever became ambitious for status and power, some might get it in their heads that they would hold more sway as the sole providers of safety. The crystals would become their rivals. And so, preventing them from having a presence near their little utopias could be seen as a precaution against disaster. Could that be the shape of the racial tensions at play? Falsedge recalled the history of her own people- Shaksrans had narrowly escaped destruction from such a conflict of power. To become accepted in the world as a non-threatening existence, their military might was legitimized through their servitude to societal order. "War Djinn"- which they were known by far and wide- was a name that reminds of their role and station.

SilverFlight , Zazz , Flutterby , Nevina , The Suspicious Eye , Rhaine

 

[Flutterby]

As the conversation about the table picked up, Ora tuned into more and more of it. Rossarinya had brought up the common practice of not wearing a shirt- something Ora had noticed, but not thought all that important, given the circumstances. She looked over at the elf for a moment, wondering why she was seemed so out-of-sorts suddenly. Or at least, since they had shared the reason for their visit here. Maybe she wasn't comfortable being a traitor. Ora frowned a little as she took a bite of food, switching her ears to another topic to distract herself.
Mostly, the talk of orcs and darkness. It made sense, that the areas outside of the crystal's reach were wild and untamed- she thought back to her arrival in this land, moments after a battle with a very angry tree. The group had been rather battered, and that had been only steps within the border.
( deer )

The half-dwarf stopped, mid-bite, when Falsedge pointed out that the other races of Cyndara would be much better off working with the orcs, and using them for protection. The thought hadn't crossed Ora's mind at all. Falsedge was much, much more adept at using her more unfortunate features to her advantage, so she could see where it came from. Not to mention, she was also from a war-prone race. Ora felt a flash of envy- Falsedge, unabashed in her scars and muscular presence, was the kind of resistance to Sumennan standards she had hoped to one day be. Flasedge had the mind to play the system from inside. Ora had let the system beat her down.

Ora chose to pipe up anyway, after swallowing her mouthful, "Doesn't sound all that different from how a few of us would be seen back home. Too much established prejudice. That's not a battle easily fought.." She directed her statement to Falsedge, and gave Song (and her new scar) a small glance. Her statement had started out confident, but she lost her surety very quickly, when she realized the soldier was at the edge of her vision. A man in service of a house wasn't someone to express bitterness in front of. Ora glanced back at the warrior woman, and then at Aeden, and then back at her food. Stick to talking about sparkly rocks with the elf-man, before you get yourself arrested.
Mythee Nevina SilverFlight cherub Zazz