Fantasy Setting Summer Dawn

[deer]

A

t Desrick’s explanation, Rossarinya slightly moved in her seat, adjusting herself once more as she listened. However, realising that her question perhaps was too personal or even one of preference, Rossarinya’s cheeks heated once more as she mentally scolded herself for the not so brilliant remark and not being able to hold her tongue. It was foolish on her part. Although it seemed as if Desrick hadn’t taken offense to her words, Desrick’s concern if it bothered her made her feel small or even guilty for causing him worry. But, at Falsedge’s comment, Rossarinya couldn’t help tilt her head towards her in amusement. In thought, Rossarinya answered the war djinn first, ”It does sound better to call them as such than savage beast. However,” she paused for a moment before directing her word towards Desrick, ”it doesn’t bother me but rather I wondered how different or similar the culture was from one place to another. But, perhaps, being sheltered and being watched so often had caused me to be ignorant of the world. It’s one . . reason of why I wanted to see Cyndara for myself. Have I made you uncomfortable?” Rossarinya inquired sincerely before her eyes glanced briefly once more at James Wolke the Brynson soldier. What of his story and alliance? His opinion of Cyndara and Cyndarans?

It was only when the slight glimmer of his earrings did Rossarinya look away as she listened to Lord Aedan explain the wilds of the land Noend. However, Rossarinya was impressed to hear that orcs, especially Desrick had a knack for navigating through the forest, but, remembered he was the one that helped them travel through the mist and to the village. It was quite an adventure and Rossarinya couldn’t help but glance down at the wound she had prior to arriving to the village from the small misunderstanding and encounter. Staring at her thigh for a moment, seeing the torn silk and the herb that settled, Rossarinya couldn’t help but let out a small smile as she couldn’t wait to clean herself up from the state she was in. It was terrible manners and she knew if her mother saw her, she would have had a heart attack. However, as Rossarinya looked away from her wound, her eyes landed on Song for a moment as well, seeing the scar in her face much clearer than before.

Nevertheless, despite how much Rossarinya was curious, it was rude to stare and she turned to bring her attention to her goblet once more. She knew that no matter how much the people of Cyndara regarded peace with the utmost highest regard and idea of living, Rossarinya couldn’t help but find Cyndara a bit of a utopia, a dreamland that she knew she should wake up from. Although there are dark and wild things in the midst of Cyndara, Rossarinya couldn’t help but find it all too fascinating as she comprehended her arrival in such a place. All she knew was pretentiousness and that most people only looked out for themselves, betraying each other for power, and sorting through the benefits of ones own desires through underhanded means and manipulation. It was hard for Rossarinya to believe there was a place that loved unity and was all welcoming and filled with warmth. Under Summena’s harsh light and gaze, it was filled with traitorous acts behind the beauty of the veil. Her heart only slightly ached more when Ora mentioned the prejudice. It wasn’t just races against each other, it was also within themselves. But, at Falsedge’s comment to use the orcs as guards in case something were to happen in Cyndara, Rossarinya couldn’t help but full heartedly agree. Whether Cyndarans wanted peace in their own land, the fact remains that one should still be prepared for anything, especially potential threats that could end if not one, but both civilisations.

tag: SilverFlight , Flutterby , cherub , Zazz , Mythee , Nevina , Rhaine

 

[cherub]

SOLDIER PVT. JAMES CIELO WOLKE​

James’ eyes flickered to the war djinn who’d likely been wondering about him since his arrival, considering the squint in her eye and the sharpness of her tone. This was natural, they were from opposing nations, however she made her difference evident.

James could understand this point of view, where he could possibly be weary of Cyndarians for same reasons. However, he had no desire to fight a battle without well outcome.

To her statement, he grinned. First to the mention of his appearance, sly really, but amusing. Secondly, he tilted his head slightly, chin in hand as he gazed at the djinn. He was curious of the reaction that would possibly be expected of him, whether by stereotype or otherwise expectation. How should he reply?

He first nodded, once more, smile not faltering. Low as to not interrupt any more important tellings around them, he said, ”Yes, well of course. It’d make an… interesting situation for myself and a couple of others to be sitting here, and you not know of the operation.” With a boyish chuckle, his eyes briefly scanned around the the others around them before looking back to Falsedge. ”And I’m glad I amuse you.” [ Mythee ]

He ran a palm through his ravenesque hair and his attention then returned to those speaking. His mind steered back to Levina’s words of sleeping renovations to which he gladly prompted, ”I’ll gladly take the floor, it’s no problem at all. You’ve housed us and fed us for this time… I can’t complain...” He shrugged slight, youthful grin on his face. [ SilverFlight ]

Suppose as a Brynson Soldier of Summena he was expected to be ignorant or ungrateful, but it was quite the opposite for him. He enjoyed to learn about the differences of others, to understand tradition and culture, to appreciate and to help anyone who needed it.

This was not to get confused with being faced with danger, in which such patience and calm kindness was conditional. Mattered not who said it, where they were from, or why they did it- James could not sit and watch someone be picked on or threatened without means to defend themselves. And, when it came to himself he seemed to only react in kindness. Well, in words and patience. Hell, he didn’t even truly like to touch the swords on his belt if not for hobby and practice. Anger and upset was a foreign beast for him to host, and so he did his best to be the kindest he could to everyone.

Some might not appreciate it, or could see it as some sort of weakness, even a facade. And, while his loyalty is to Summena, he is first and always a conscious mind careful to take care of others before himself.

Briefly, his eyes found the she-elf Rossarinya's where she then, just as he'd noticed looked away. He brushed at his ear slightly, only to wonder if maybe there was something on his face, if not just the earring in his ear. Eyes low to the table, zoning in and out of focus he seemed to just mellow with the sounds of the voices muffling into a soothing hum. [ deer ]

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

 

[SilverFlight]

Desrick sighed patiently as Falsedge demonstrated her tact again at making a point. "If only it was that simple." He said wearily, not having the will to delve into the antagonistic history between orcs and the rest of the Cyndaran peoples.
He gave Ora a grateful smile, "The politics behind the decisions made are complex. Believe me I'd much rather see the orcs working together with the other races, but intolerance and pride are viruses that are dangers here just as the forest is."
"Nobody's talking politics at this table." Crispin said resolutely, waggling his spoon at Desrick. "It's too late in the evening anyway. You can all discuss it tomorrow, when I'm out of earshot." Mythee Flutterby

Desrick turned away from talk of the orcs and instead considered Rossarinya's comment. "I suppose, a culture that placed more importance on appearance would have more means of improving it. For an orc at least, you are either wearing armour, or nothing."
He smiled when she asked if he was uncomfortable. "I'm a big green orc living amongst small, twig-thin elves, I always feel uncomfortable."
deer

James had selflessly volunteered himself for sleeping in the shop.
"There will be a mat to sleep on, and pillows and blankets, there might be a bit of sawdust in the air, but otherwise its not unpleasant."
cherub

Once everyone was fed and dinner cleared Levinia guided most of the guests up into the rooms while Desrick led the way into the workshop. Upstairs there were several rooms each with a well-made bed: feather-stuffed pillows and thick, linen sheets and wool covers. The room walls curved with the natural shape of the tree and small glass orbs hanging before the window emitted a delicate yellow light. Tapping these once would turn them off.

The shop was spacious enough for four thick mats to be laid down, and the air was filled with the sweet scent of pine, maple and oak woods. The shelves were lined with toys, bowls, stools and other crafts and a half-finished piece sat beside a turning lathe.
Desrick flopped down on the mat beside his brother and put his hands behind his head.
He took in the gentle scent of wood and caught himself wondering is Lohr would like it in here, if this was a smell that comforted him.
Thinking about that, he slowly began to drift off to sleep.

~*~*~

He awoke again with the crystal's light just reaching the peak of its brightness. Crispin was still fast asleep and Desrick tried to get up as quietly as he could and tiptoe out the back way.
A bath and half a loaf of bread before the household awoke made him feel much more like himself, and after passing the clothes line, where one of his shirts hung, already dry he stopped and turned to consider it. The side of the house adjacent from the bath at the back was a small courtyard that opened up from the shop's back door. Along the side of it were several weighted beams for lifting and a slew of wood weapons. Desrick sauntered into the yard, struggling with the hem of his shirt, and the decision on whether it should be tucked into his breeches, or left out. He opted for tucked in finally and took hold of a wooden practice axe, giving it a few experimental swings.
"I wonder if the Sumennans spar?" He mused to himself.

Zazz cherub deer Flutterby Mythee Nevina Rhaine

 

[Zazz]

Lohrithe tucked his stones back into his pocket and spent the rest of dinner listening to conversations. When Rossarinya's comment about their bareness came about, the drow glanced down at himself. His chest, indeed, was bare. But before he could form a thought of an answer, Desrick spoke for both of them. It was true; his people only really wore clothing to keep warm, or as accessories. Perhaps for special occasions. It was normal for him to see women and men alike with little clothing. It was just so restricting, and unnecessary.

When dinner finished, Desrick went to bathe and Lohrithe helped Levinia in the kitchen. The drow had bathed in the river the night before, so he wasn't too concerned with himself. He joined the other men in the shop to sleep, indeed finding comfort in the scent of settled sawdust. While the others fell asleep, he worked on his horn carving by the light of a dimming candle. It slowly started to take on the spiral form of Ora's horns, but he knew he would not finish it that night. Finally, he blew out the candle and went to sleep beside, Desrick, taking in the orc's silhouette before closing his eyes.

-----

The morning light found the drow. Finding his orc friend missing, Lohrithe quietly got up and left the shop, heading outside. Sure enough, he found the orc swinging around a wooden axe. With a grin, Lohrithe picked up a hefty wooden sword and approached Desrick, greeting him cheerfully.

 

[SilverFlight]

Desrick turned on Lohr's approach and he broke into a wide smile as he saw him. "Good! I can warm up one someone who actually knows how to fight like an orc!"
He took up a stance close to the center of the ring, raising the practice blade before lunging expertly into a downward swing aimed at disarming his opponent through sheer force.
Zazz ((mini post :3)

 

[Flutterby]

Ora returned Desrick's smile with a look of understanding, and finally felt like she could turn her full focus to the food in front of her. It had the flavor and subtle flare of an experienced cook, compared to her plain cooking. Despite the extra (and extra large) guests, there was still plenty. Ora ate until she was the comfortable kind of full, and then a little bit more. It made her heavy and sleepy- her help clearing was much more sedate than setting. With such a happy stomach, she decided a bath could wait until the following morning, and picked a room nearest the stairs. The dwarf wasted no time shedding her dirtiest outer layers and climbing into bed, marveling at the little light for only a moment before tapping it out.
~~~~~
She woke to some amount of light filtering through her room's knot-hole. Time had a little less meaning here, but it seemed to be morning. She climbed out of her bed, which was one of the comfiest she had ever slept in, and gathered her things to creep downstairs.
She could hear voices around the side of the house, one of them Lohr's, and made an effort to stay out of sight. She wanted to be clean, and she didn't want to be bothered before she was. Ora claimed a shower for herself, finding some soap and a towel easily, and set about scrubbing away the dirt of her travels.
Once her skin and scalp were scrubbed clean, Ora dried and dressed in her other set of clothes- brown breeches, dark blue blouse. Her hair hung loose over her shoulders as she retrieved a wash tub and set about cleaning the items she had taken off. She was efficient, and had them hanging on a line to dry in no time. With the gentle breeze picking up, it wouldn't take long. Ora wandered around the side of the tree-house, and sat down on a rock to care for her newly-cleaned boots, watching Lohr and Desrick spar between glances down at the leather.
Zazz SilverFlight

 

[Mythee]

James' had taken that information in too much stride, without even a change of expression. His response couldn't truly suggest that he believed Song and Falsedge to be part of the operation, and hence, rightfully in the know- unless he, like the others, had been left out of the loop from his superiors. But what good reason could there be for Summenan dispatch to warn Cyndarans of such a potentially destabilizing mission? And what gave him the impression that she found him amusing? She looked around the diverse silhouettes in the same room before her eyes came back to rest on him with a kind of mock pity.
"Wouldn't know about that. This motley crew sets the bar high when it comes to amusement, but points for trying."
She returned his perplexing comment with the same low, conspirational tones.
He continued to be forward in his politeness toward the Cyndaran family.
If he were an assassin sent to assess and clean up after them if need be, he wouldn't have offered to sleep right by the orc and the drow, subjecting himself to their honed instincts and obvious battle-readiness should he attempt to sneak around for any... disposing.

He might as well have purposefully assured the war djinn that he wasn't planning on doing anything.
She didn't have to keep too much of an eye on him, then. Might as well enjoy her freedom to explore and learn more about this place tonight before the knowledge of Summenan spies changed the attitude of the town's authorities, if they were to eventually catch wind.
"I'll be going out for a romp later, leave a spot on the floor for me."
She added to that conversation, giving Desrick's adoptive mother a nod of acknowledgement. cherub

Falsedge smirked at the half-dwarf's words on prejudice, not missing Ora's nervous shift after she was done talking. Falsedge pointedly gave James a sidelong look, leaning in oh so slightly as if daring him to say something about it. Flutterby cherub

Rossarinya finally shared some of her feelings, and it wasn't anything that Fals had expected to hear, given how... affected by all this she had seemed. Curiosity, exploration... things that drove people to dream, and that were often lost as one grew burdened with the realities of adulthood. She'd make a good heroine for children's tales. "Song, take notes for your music. The noblewoman's got an adventurer's streak." deer Nevina

Politics was tiring, no matter the time or place; Crispin's finality about it elicited a chuckle. "All right, letting it drop. The night calls." SilverFlight

She set down her bowl near other dirty dishes and left, preoccupied with how little she knew of this place. Song had said that she didn't always have to be on the job, but she couldn't be more wrong. Someone had to do it when nobody else was. Furthermore, this was the best time to gather information. She left the house and stalked into empty streets, so dimly lit she could barely see beyond dark silhouettes, and feeling bare without her armor. Yet, as time passed in her wanderings, her eyesight adapted slightly- her other senses seemed to improve, orienting her. The stars were brilliant, giving off the impression of music up above when the world on the ground was quiet.

Her tumultuous inner state seemed further exaggerated when surrounded by so much peace, prompting her to focus harder on her task. Building a mental map. What manner of people went about at night. How many guards, if any at all. Awhile after she'd gone out, she found herself walking back to the temple, climbing the stairs to the top where they had overlooked the town square from earlier that day. No activity. She took a deep breath, unable to feel the cool and humid air due to the metal mask still affixed to her face. The mere thought that she could allow herself to enjoy this more was a bad joke. A bad joke, if she were still the monster. It was about time to acknowledge the changed shape of her imprints down this path she had chosen.

She unhinged the mask and inhaled. The fresh breath of moss and forest, alive in her lungs. She found herself missing the smell of baked dust on the stones of Summena, of bread dough made to rise by the sun. She surprised herself by not choking that feeling the moment it rose. What purpose would it serve to start acting like a person now? Sure, Song wanted this from her, but it wasn't going to do anyone any good for her to go exploring that uncharted territory when there was work still to be done.

Uncork even a little, and it all comes pouring out... She felt unruly and foolish as she re-affixed her mask, taking the first step back to join the others.

------

Entering the courtyard in the morning with some dry cloth and oils as well as her bagged gear from yesterday, Falsedge was greeted by the sight of Desrick and Lohrithe, seemingly ready for a spar. She was due for some exercise, herself; settling down on one of the weighted beams with her things, she debated returning to the workshop for stretches and drills if this area was already taken. She wasn't going to miss this show for the world, though. Time to get a good look at their moves.
"What a treat! Let's see how Cyndarans fight." She spoke, unsheathing the first of her khopesh for maintenance and settling it across her knees.

Zazz Rhaine

 

[Zazz]

Lohrithe laughed and ducked out of the way just in time, letting the orc follow through with his momentum while the drow tapped the flat of his wooden blade to the orc's rear. "Too much orc." Lohrithe waited for his friend to turn around, taking up a defensive stance, knees bent for quick movements.

 

[SilverFlight]

"Hey!" Desrick laughed as he regained his footing. "Fight fair!" The orc turned and faced Lohr again. When he lunged this time it was more careful, he shifted the grip of his blade to one hand and feinted, with the other, he reached out to grab the elf about the middle.
Zazz

 

[Rhaine]

Valac:

The gradual brightening of the crystal, perched like a beacon at the town's apex, had just hit its peak; merchants had already been pouring back into the market streets to unfurl carpets, erect booths, and display their panoply of artisanal wares or fresh produce.

News of Delan's guests had given new energy to some of these merchants, spurred by the spirit of competition- or sharing- to double their efforts so that the Summenans might partake in their goods should they pass by again, giving the enthusiastic Cyndarans a unique story to tell when they get home.

The young Naga Valac, peddler of woven goods, baskets and tapestries, had also caught wind of the foreign presence late in yesterday. It was the opportunity of a lifetime, but what could he make of it? Uncertainty and excitement had spurred him to seek out his hermit friend and sometimes instructor, Hael. The thick grass that had overgrown from aeons of seeding cycles between the town's cobbled stones flattened, and then rose again after his passage, smoothed into one direction by the great and shimmering serpent's tail.

"Lucky us! The lady from the herbal tea shop tells me they're staying at Levinia's- the Orc diplomat, Desrick's, home. She drew me these instructions on how to get there." Respect for the magi's tranquil disposition prevented the hurry of anticipation from entering Valac's voice; instead he slid forward at the edge of the cobbles, matching Hael's pace. One disadvantage of having a huge low body was that people were like to trip over him should he slither in the middle of the street, especially when they were carrying other things... yeah, he wasn't looking to repeat those experiences.

"Hmm. Is 'Waterdove's nest' a landmark, a business, or a road name?" He spoke, holding out the hand-drawn instructions.

-

Talk traveled quickly, especially among villages clustered tight among the great, billowing trees of Noend Forest. Even those who existed at the far-reaches heard tale.

There were Summenans among them.

They had come before their priestesses, been anointed, met judgment’s eye, and all had passed without incident. Their presence was enough to incur spectacle, let alone their acquiescence. They, born under sun, that true, punishing light. What secrets did they hold? What knowledge were they willing to share? What did they seek?

Hael had met a Summenan once. It was a brief encounter, marred by childhood, though he recalled clearly. On the Shivering Isle - at a crescent peak of the shore. He had been searching for dozing flies. His master had requested them. The light that poured out from the windows of the partially-hidden cottage attracted the singing insects. He had been collecting them, tucking them gently into the green-spun glass jar he carried.

A creak from the door then, and footsteps. Hael, small, shrinking from the light, didn’t flee. He was curious.

It was a woman, tall, supine - not dark or sharp as he. She was pale, yet he saw it upon her cheeks: that touch of light. Not flame’s doing, nor flush. It was faded, but drawn fundamentally into her skin. He had no name for it. He knew it now as the sun’s weary mark — the Summer King’s favor.

She had been beautiful. Striking in her other-ness. Enchanting in her familiarity. Something from a dream.

Grown now, he did more than he dared do then. Not just remaining, waiting, but seeking. It had been Valac’s doing, yet he hadn’t protested for too long. He wondered just as earnestly as the rest, if not more so. Hael disliked clamor, though he couldn’t disparage curiosity, even if it took hold as a certain disregard for privacy.

The dark, bushy-haired elf strode down the cobble-stoned street with bowed, careful step. He was a traveler in his dreams - it was only the presence of such trivial constants that kept him grounded in the present. In dreaming he moved smoothly - without effort, without hitch. This moment was as solid as a brick. He felt it in his delayed step — not so noticeable, but always a point of awareness.

The harkening crystal cast loose light in its cresting hours. It awakened Hael further every moment. His long, dusky robes swayed heavy, hanging fluid over his thick wrists as he gestured to the large nest nestled close in a crook between branches.

“A landmark, my friend. We are close.”

The two companions continued down the lane. Hael felt anticipation buzzing off of his young almost-apprentice. He needn’t have been so close to feel it with such clarity. It poured off of him in droves. A fleeting smile slipped over Hael’s full mouth, fading to neutrality once more. Valac was entertaining in his enthusiasm, despite any effort to conceal it.

“Will they meet your expectations, Valac? I wonder.”

His low, musical voice dipped somewhere in the realm of teasing, though it was framed more-so in general intrigue. He spoke of his friend’s anticipation, his expectations, yet never his own.

Hael came to a stop at the last house, down-ridden gaze hanging heavy over the door.

-

Valac:

Following Hael's gesture, Valac glanced over to the vaguely bell-shaped structure of twigs interwoven with silk. A fan of wildlife as he was, the naga had to fight the urge to draw nearer and take a peek at what was inside. After they had passed it by, the waterdoves flew in, the sound of flapping wings accompanied by the rise of their hungry chick's small voices at their parent's return.

The world around him almost brimmed with positivity, and it was hard not to be cheered by it. It was just like Hael to have caught on to his excitement; well, he hadn't exactly been subtle in the way he had urged the magi to come with him. Almost certain that this would be a wonderful occasion for his ponderous friend as well, Valac had wanted him to be there.

"I don't know... do you ever divine with auguration? I'm sure waterdoves mean something..." He answered the teasing bashfully, suddenly feeling shy now that the house was in sight. Most people had had the decency not to approach unless invited, but... nothing ventured, nothing gained? This could be his one chance at making Summenan connections and plotting a route while still in Cyndara.

"I'm so glad you're with me, Hael," he spoke with trepidation, shutting his eyes and drawing mental support from the wisened wood-elf's presence before he finally knocked on the door.

-

”I don't know... do you ever divine with auguration? I'm sure waterdoves mean something…”

Hael’s face turned downcast. There was a flash of a sardonic smile beneath the fall of his heavy, dark curtain of hair, despite what he had tied away in a knot at the crest of his skull. The expression was slightly jarring over his dark, somber features. To so good-naturedly touch at a subject that weighed so heavily.

With only that brief pause in which he retreated inward, he looked up at the sound of fluttering wings, dark eyes cast to the crystal-lit sky. He watched the grown waterdove in arc and descent. It pulled at his spirit.

“To tell you true, mˈɛl̡dir, I have always been a blind, old elf when signs are in question. I could not interpret an omen even as it passed willing before me.” Far from old, far from blind, good nature not lost, he fixed Valac with a pleasant expression, deep voice turning lighter.

“Still… with that said, and you fair-warned of my insufficiencies as a fortuneteller… I have heard tell that waterdoves bring fair fortune. They are a sign of peaceful relations. Perhaps — of promising beginnings.”

His words were, in part, for Valac’s sake - to indulge a friend. In some other sense, he was aiming to comfort himself. Whatever manner of being had crossed through this very threshold the night before held some sort of power over his psyche. Its face — he knew already, though its shape was unknown, manner foreign. An image of black, frigid waters arose. Churning over itself endlessly. Masking the Mysteries held in its depths. He could still taste the cold salt on his tongue, feel his muscles strain under a hand more powerful, more violent than any mortal's. Pulled thrush beneath shivering waters, two yellow eyes opened amidst the murky blackness. The chirping of the infant waterdoves saved him from his reverie.

Hael didn’t speak in response to Valac’s final truth. He only stood tall beside him, watching his knuckles wrap soft upon the door, his own hands resting loose at his sides.

Time moved slow. The silence was unbending.

-

collab with: Mythee
tags: SilverFlight cherub deer Zazz Flutterby

 

[cherub]

SOLDIER PVT. JAMES CIELO WOLKE​

James nodded intently, eyes traveling back to the woman of the house where in more detail he learned of the space itself where they’d sleep: the shop. His ears were quick to refocus, to listen, even in his tired daze where he then heard the voice of the other familiar, another female, the war djinn.

Looking her in her eye, he cleared his throat quietly and somewhat discretely. Not in a way of interruption, just in personal need, while she spoke of the dissociation between herself and amusement. He couldn’t help but wonder if she’d taken this small notion in a serious tone, to where she truly believed he’d, with intent, bend to amuse her.

He smiled again, to her frown and monotone gesture. Voice of dust in daylight’s age, he shook his head slightly. ”Don’t worry, miss. I wasn’t trying, so it’s quite alright.” He found his drink and took a swig, considering the idea that this was to be the basis of any further engagements between them. Interest by another name, still just as ominous as it is gravitational. Not considerably pleasant, not otherwise unsettling.

His eyes travelled elsewhere around the table, ears daring to fall from the grace of focus again. Falsedge’s voice again, something of saving a spot for her on the floor. Sure she was capable of finding a spot to squeeze into, and he hadn’t owed her any favor. However, it was less energy to be kind and so he’d do as asked and so he would, then never speak of it. In fact, he couldn’t recall- had she mentioned her name?

Shadow moved over him when he realized someone had leaned into his space, looking up it was the harsh look of djinn’s eyes. He chuckled upon reflex, lacking the seriousness it was likely she meant to invoke. Yes, yes of course. This and that, none and more, here and there. Sure. [ Mythee ]

--

James slept well as he would anywhere else. Soundly asleep, he was never one to snore, not loud to be heard unless anyone was eerily close to his face. Soft rustling if anything, leaves to gravel. There were times he woke up, confused of his whereabouts, but never did he move from his place on the floor. His jacket was his preferred blanket, as a full blanket might be too warm. Fast asleep once more, it wasn’t until morning was he rested and prepared to deal with that of a lively group beyond his own tuning.

--

He awoke to the moving of others, and dared not to be the last to wake. Raven strands of silk a stray in many directions, his best bet was to just rake through with his hands as his hair wasn’t so difficult to manage on any day. It would look as it so pleased to look, fitting for the soldier himself.

Reaching to his bag, he traded in the faded coal of shirt on his back for one of blue. Same material though it rather exposed his arms, cotton of sort and pants of similar. Dark, somewhat fitted, same loose chunky boots. He was sure to keep his swords on him, strapped onto the pants themselves as the other pair, flanked and beneath the cotton of his top.

Stepping outside for the first time this day, he found himself again lonesome for the sun. Light of crystal was different, not otherwise bad, just. . . different. Rubbing at a blue eye, he sighed, untouched eye looking around at the others of the courtyard. Some sparring, energetic, it made him smile. A genuine one, this reminded him of home even when clearly he was so far from it. [ SilverFlight , Zazz ]

Then he saw the familiar war djinn, Falsedge. He was sure he fell asleep before ever encountering her again the night before, and wondered if she even slept at all. A brief thought, really, not particularly concerned but curious. [ Mythee ]

Eyes briefly turning in his head, he kneeled low against the shop, stuck in his own mind. This was idle time, idle wandering and idle breath. He watched the sparring with his own great amusement, a good-hearted spar not for him, still admired from and with distance. He couldn’t help but to wonder if his friends were well, if his mother were well. Slickly drawing one of the swords from his side, blue handle: left, he used the reflection of the inflictor itself as a mirror, eyeing his lone earring. First red, flickering, fading, but still red. She was strong, wasn’t she?

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

 

[Zazz]

Lohrithe found himself caught by a big, green arm. "Agh!" The drow hacked at the orc's back with his wooden sword. "Quit.. leaving... your opponent's... arms... avail..able," he choked out, being squished. He then dropped his sword and went for Desrick's throat with his hands. Always crafty, the drow was.

 

[SilverFlight]

Desrick dropped his axe completely in favour of hefting the drow off his feet, fighting to prevent Lohr from getting a grip around his neck.
"Stop squirming!" He said between fits of laughter.@zazz
Noticing Falsedge Desrick gave her a playful smirk. "You're next Sumennan." Mythee

A loud wrap on the front door was audible from around the side of the house.
Desrick hefted Lohr into a position on his hip and shouted "Ho! We're round here!"
Mythee Rhaine

Then the elf did manage to catch him around the neck and Desrick's laughter took on a slightly strangled sound, though he didn't stop.
He fell to a knee, still trying his best to dislodge his friend and pin him.
"We're wrestling now eh? Ha!" Zazz

 

[Zazz]

Lohrithe squirmed in the orc's grasp, slowly climbing up closer to his neck in order to put him in a headlock. The orc, however, had the upper hand in strength, and it was a struggle. Resorting to cheap tricks, the drow bit down on the orc's ear and growled, arms wrapped tight around his neck.

 

[SilverFlight]

"Ow! That's it!" Desrick yelped. Now the gloves were off. He grabbed the elf in both hands and dropped to the ground, using it and his superior strength to try and pry Lohr off his throat. Once he had a small moment to breathe he regarded his friend with a pout. "See, now I'm just disappointed in us both."
Zazz

 

[Zazz]

Lohrithe caught his breath on the ground, grinning sheepishly up at his friend. "That was terrible," he admitted with a chuckle, a spark in his green irises.

The drow stood, brushing off his tan pants and walking over to sit by Ora. He took a small jar of what looked like grey dust from his pack and handed it to her. "For your boots; it will protect them from the mud." To prove his point, he showed her one of his dry, mostly dirt-free boots. Lohrithe then brought out a comb and began undoing the small metal clasps in his hair, and the few braids. The rest of his hair hung loose in a soft, silky white curtain.

 

[Rough Patch]

It had been a long time since he'd been a woman.

Sen Sunkisser strode confidently down the midnight streets of Delan, looking for the group he'd selected as his next mark. The large hips he'd formed as well as the ample backside swayed tantalizingly as he expertly walked in his high heels. His form was hourglass and fit, the dark elf body he'd created was perfectly curvy and seductive in order to stroke the fires of desire in both men and women. The clothing he'd selected showed off his pale dark skin and barely covered enough to be considered decent. Its fabric fell around him narrowing around his chest before flaring out into a long dress-like skirt that showed off his legs thanks to a slit in the side. The deep red colouring accented his skin nicely.

Plump lips, deep light green eyes and white hair tied back into a golden (fake) ornament on his head sold the rest of his persona.

"Let's see... dark elf culture. Broody, mysterious, edgier than a freshly sharpened scythe. Desired by many thanks to the exoticism as well as their..." he paused in front of the window of a house as he caught a glimpse of his new reflection and frowned. "Natural beauty... hmmm." He muttered, as his hands went to his bosom and felt them uncertainly. Hefting them slightly. Movement in the house drew Sen's eye and he realized he had an audience to his self-exploration. The shapeshifter grinned mischievously as he turned to the side to get a better view of his body. "C cups are nice and all but I think a group of adventurers would appreciate some double D's." In his hands, his breasts began to swell much to the shock and delight of the man watching. Sen blew his audience a little kiss before turning and walking away, enjoying his teasing of a stranger.

"After all, it's probably been ages since they saw a woman this well proportioned, adventurer and soldier types aren't exactly always co-ed. This should be a piece of cake, much easier than running from Johnny Law." The shapeshifter smiled confidently as he reflected on his travels.

His journey back into Cyndara had been difficult, with the strangeness of the Half-Sun hills as well as the pursuit of Summera's law enforcement on his tail it had been an ordeal unto itself. He'd managed to escape only by the skin of his teeth, thankfully unharmed. He didn't think he was out of the proverbial woods yet however, House Evereach's sphere of influence was massive and it was more than likely a few brave or insane individuals in their employ had pursued him even this far. Not to mention the massive bounty on his head, he'd seen the wanted posters which advertised his guilt to the world, instead of a drawing of his face it was a large question mark. They didn't have his real name either but had taken to calling him "The Faceless One" and had listed a string of his aliases. He wasn't quite sure how they'd found out about so many of his false identities and tied them to him, some of the ones they'd listed had been hidden very well and he'd put in months of work to separate them from his other ones. Sen didn't think he'd been betrayed but... it was strange how quickly Evereach had fallen upon the scam he'd been running.

The crimes on the poster had almost taken up the entire wall including things he was pretty certain were made up and other things he'd never done. The list included; Murder, Thievery, Adultery, Urinating in Public, Defecating in Public, Insulting a High Noble, Insulting a King, Insulting the Entire Planet, Cheating in a Duel, Goosing Goslings, Lifting Skirts, Lifting his own Skirt, Wearing a Hat on Glory Day, Public Nudity, Bribery of an Offical, Bribery of an Unofficial, Stealing a Baby, Teaching a Baby how to Smoke, Bad Role modeling, Bad Breath, Chicken Swindling, Pig-Kidnapping, Flogging a Bishop, Fugicide, Attempted Regicide, Vegetarianism, Cow-tipping, Corruption of Roosters, Breaking and Decorating, Goat Painting, Vague Yet Certainly Criminal Actions, Gross Indecency, Net Indecency, Profitable Indecency, Wearing A Loud Shirt In A Public Area Between The Hours Of 7-11, Enticing a Riot, Seducing a Riot, Endangering the Reckless, Engendering the Reckless, Misgendering The Reckless, Being Reckless, Being Drunk In The Presence Of A Cow, Bad Mouthing Spices, Refusing A Platonic Date, Taunting the Handicapped, Flagrant Heterosexualisim, Impersonating a Member of the Thieves Guild, Impersonating Members of Every Guild, Guilding Members who are Impersonating Him, Flagrant Homosexualism, Bottling, Abduction

The poster had continued on with crimes both real and imagined, turning him into one of Summera's most wanted. Sen, of course, had been flattered and had stolen the poster. He didn't have anywhere to hang it yet but figured he'd find a place eventually. Building a new hide-out where he could stash anything he'd gain on the run sounded like a fun idea. First, he needed to lay low and get as far away from the border as possible. Joining a group of adventurers and wrapping them around his little finger so they'd do all the work sounded like a comfortable way of accomplishing that.

He thought fondly of his time in Summera, despite everything and longed to return one day. As the house he'd been looking for came into view he decided he was ready for this new adventure and found himself excited at the prospect of seeing new things. Naively, Sen had begun to think himself free of everything that had happened in Summera and was viewing this as a fresh start. Only time would tell if this was true or not.

Sen lifted a carefully manicured hand and was about to knock on the door when he decided he'd look more mysterious with tattooed lines running up his arms and converging around his chest. Once those were finished forming he rapped on the door three times.

"H-Hello?" he said changing his vocal cords to sound more silky and feminine. "Is anyone home?"

 

[Mythee]

Valac had been looking his way while they were talking, so he couldn't miss the change in Hael's expression. He recognized the gloom that would sometimes befall the wood-elf, whose recollections of the past often seemed to weigh heavily on their bearer, and noted that he should avoid the subject in the future.
But wait, is it better to talk about it? I hear people say that sometimes... ahh, I don't know!

It was interesting to find out about a branch of magic that neither of them had ever picked up on. Mystics and augurs seemed less common than casters, though priestesses could be considered mystics of a kind. He waited for Hael to finish speaking before protesting his self-description, hoping that he wasn't making everyone older than him self-conscious of their age.
“You're really not that old- and that's great! Peaceful relations is exactly what I.."

All too visible in the near distance over Hael's shoulder, there was an unexpected sight. A bombshell of a woman, right out of well... a certain demographic's collective imagination, strut over to the adjacent house. Valac's mind turned blank as he fixed his gaze back on the door in front of him, flinching at the sound of a gruff voice calling them from somewhere inside the property, which turned into oddly strained laughter. What was going on back there?

"Oh, um... Okay! We're coming!" Valac shouted back, about to make his way over, but the voice of the woman at the next door over stopped him. Oh boy. He turned around.
"Hello ma'am! A-are you also looking for the Summenans? We're about to meet them..." He offered helpfully, unable to ignore that she was quite possibly here for the same reason.

--

Meanwhile, Falsedge made a face at the prospect of sparring with Desrick. It wasn't as if she didn't value a good training exercise, but it wasn't quite the same when the opponent wasn't wearing armor and if she didn't have appropriately blunt training weapons. Recklessness. That said, Desrick was in a formidable weight class of his own, she could understand his confidence.
"I'll take a hard pass. Half-orc brat already said you were stronger, remember? Spoilers kind of ruined it for me."
The fight that continued between him and Lohrithe was factually hilarious, distracting attention from her task. She gave James a nod as he crouched next to the shop to join in the watching.
It wasn't so much a spar, at this point, as the kind of harmless wrestling that took place between brothers. Until Lohr bit Desrick, that was.
"Hahah! And they call me a brute."
Done maintaining her left gauntlet, she put down the clean rag and re-equipped it, flexing the joints with a quick snap of the fingers and then moving on to the next piece.
From the sound of it, they had visitors on the way, so she held off on shooting their latest Summenan addition the prying questions she had in store for him.

cherub SilverFlight Zazz , Flutterby , deer , Nevina , The Suspicious Eye , Rhaine , Rough Patch

 

[Flutterby]

Ora glanced up when Falsedge came out into the courtyard, carrying a bag and supplies for caring for her gear. She seemed interested only in her work and the spar between Desrick and Lohr, so the half-dwarf let her be after giving a standard nod in greeting. Ora didn't mind- her mornings were usually the loneliness part of her lonely life. Sitting quietly on her own suited her just fine.

Shortly after Falsedge, the newest addition of their party came out. He received a little more attention than Falsedge, mostly because as he sat down, he swiped his sword to examine his own earring, drawing her attention to it. She knew that it must be Sumennan work, but it flickered with soft red light of its own. Ora wanted to look at it closely, find out what magic had been used on what stone to produce such an intriguing illusion. The added glow got to her dwarf side, made her brain clatter about the shine and the sparkle. She scowled at that, and quickly moved her eyes back down to her red-brown boots, ignoring the knock that made Desrick call out.
SilverFlight Mythee cherub

Lohr ended up resorting to biting, which ended to wrestling rather quickly. Ora gave him a look when he sat next to her, but was focused on rubbing the proper amount of oil into her boots. He pulled something, a jar of grey dirt, out of his pack and offered it to her. She raised an eyebrow, wanting to point out that it looked like it would make her boots more dirty. But she had been unkind to him too much already, so she nodded and took the jar to use next.

"We don't have much mud in Sumenna. The sun's warmth dries the earth quickly." Ora finished with the oil, and picked up the jar to examine its contents. Testing it with her finger lead her to believe he was right, so she decided to use it. Her dark eyes darted up to him when he moved, watching him fuss with his hair for a moment before saying. "When I was young, the dwarves like to use the juice from a plant that grows on the side of the mountain, nuru-weed, to make their hair shinier. It works, but it also smells a little bit like fish." The dwarf gave a half-smile, bordering on wicked, because of how silly it seemed to her. "The entire palace would smell like fish for a week after a big party."
Zazz

 

[Zazz]

"You will find plenty of mud, here," he chuckled, smiling as she chose to use the boot dust. Her boots were a very pretty colour, he thought. When she told him about the dwarves' fishy parties, he laughed. "Our caves would smell, too, if we used.. nuru-weed?" Lohrithe remembered something, and stopped doing his hair to rummage through his pack. He procured another jar, this one the size of two thumbs. Inside was a shimmering, silvery-pearl substance. "This is what we use at special events," he said. Lohrithe opened the small container and gently took a small lock of the dwarf's hair from just behind her ear. "May I?"

 

[Flutterby]

Ora chuckled, adding, "There are certainly much better smelling ways to treat one's hair." She pulled on her boots, lacing them loosely around her feet but tightly up at the top.
Lohr was fishing around in his bag again, and Ora wondered how much random stuff he was carrying around in there. What was next, a cute little musical instrument? Nope, hair-sparkle.
Ora visibly froze when he touched her hair, eyes widening when his fingertip brushed the skin behind her ear. The half-dwarf looked over at Desrick, and then Falsedge, as if she was looking for them to intervene. But Lohr was just being kind, trying to connect.

"Um-well-I.. I hope that I don't make it look silly." In truth, she was worried it would make her look silly, but she didn't say that out of respect for his culture. That, and she was curious about it. The pearl-like coloring no doubt just made white hair like his shine, but what would happen on dark red-brown locks like her own? Besides, she had already crossed into a forbidden land, on a mission she wasn't invited on, pretending to represent a throne that had denounced her, and told the people who were supposed to be enemies the truth about their visit, so was sparkly hair even that much of a risk? Please, you just like the attention. Are you really stupid enough to start throwing your little heart out there again so soon?
Zazz

 

[SilverFlight]

Desrick sat in the dust for a moment more, watching Lohrithe.
"Rested well Ora?" ( Flutterby ) He asked as he hefted himself up to his feet, replacing the weapons on their racks.
He shrugged in Falsedge's ( Mythee ) direction. "The lady fighter doesn't want to fight." He left it at that for now, more interested in the voices that were coming from the front door.
He heard another voice call out and guessed that the new visitors could not find their way around to the court yard. Excusing himself from the company of his guests he began to make his way around to the front.
"We're all gathering in the..." ( Mythee Rhaine Rough Patch ) Desrick trailed off when he saw the people gathered. There was a wood elf, this didn't surprise him, though from the garb he looked to be from a faraway tribe. The nagakin was less common this far up against the border of Cyndara, and this one looked young, but merchants and peddlers were not unheard of. The most unusual to Desrick's eyes was the dark elf woman, whose every feature seemed extenuated to the height of sensual beauty. He caught himself staring and quickly put his eyes to the ground.
He'd always considered Lohr to be beautiful, but this creature went far beyond that. What were they doing here? Had they heard about the Sumennan people staying at the house?
"Desrick Larkwing." He nodded at them, eyes still fixed on his mother's flower beds, painfully aware that his name was about as far from an orcish name as one could possibly get. It was wood-elvish, and sometimes, he was ashamed of it. "How may I be of service?"

Back in the courtyard someone appeared at the gate behind the house. She was short of breath, her green complexion flushed with a copper tinge. It was Razah, the orc woman they had met in the market square, mother to Tomo. Her eyes were wide with fear and Tomo...was nowhere to be seen.
"Please," She began once she had caught enough breath to speak. "I am looking for Desrick." Then she spotted Lohrithe ( Zazz Flutterby ) sitting on the bench by Ora and she hastily opened the gate to let herself in. "Lohr! Tomo is missing. I've checked all his usual hiding places and...I found tracks leading away from his stick fort in the woods. I...I think he's been taken."

Desrick heard the familiar voice and turned at its urgency. He motioned for the newcomers to follow him round back, turning to lead them into the courtyard. Upon seeing him Razah rushed over and repeated what she had told the others. Desrick's brow creased deeply. "Taken? What do you mean taken? Who would kidnap Tomo?"
The darker part of Desrick's mind could think of several reasons why someone would want to strike at the half-orc child, in the eyes of some, he was an abomination. This he did not voice however, but kept grim silence.
"I don't know Desrick, but I am getting frightened. Please, will you help me look for him?"
Zazz Mythee Flutterby deer cherub Rhaine Rough Patch Nevina

 

[Zazz]

The drow smiled warmly, and licked his finger and thumb before dipping the former into the hair sparkle. He rubbed it between his fingers like hair dye and applied it to the half-dwarf's lock of hair. The colour of her hair remained unchanged, but his fingers left behind a subtle shimmer.

Lohrithe's head turned suddenly at Razah's frantic voice. His blood froze; he knew what that kind of worry meant before she put it into words. Tomo. The drow stood, putting away the two jars and coming to meet the orc, expression serious. "When did you last see him? What kind of tracks?" The dark elf took hold of one green hand of the woman. "We'll find him."

 

[Rough Patch]

Sen turned towards the voice who had called out to him, annoyed at his mistake but having the good sense to shift a blush into his cheeks, and smiled pretending to be embarrassed. "Oh dear," He said, "I seem to have gotten the address wrong." A manicured nail rested on full lips thoughtfully. "Master does say I'd forget my own spells if they weren't tattooed on my arms" Cheerfully Sen bounced off the stoop of the house he'd been knocking on, just as the owner poked a confused head out and began to gawk.

As he sashayed over towards the pair who'd called out to him, Sen began to prepare.

During his time in Summena, Sen had come across the curious profession of acting and had for a short while been involved with a few actors and actresses. The shapeshifter had found the way their culture showered them in riches and accolades enticing and yet decided it was an utterly boring profession he didn't care to try. While his natural abilities would have made him extremely suited towards the work there wasn't any fun or difficulty in pretending to be someone else when everyone already knew that was what you were doing. If he'd have tried to make a career out of it as well Sen would have to have gone under one name, vanishing and resurfacing as a different talented actor would have caused his true nature to have been revealed eventually. Summena's entire culture would have been the death of him if that happened, it sometimes felt to him that the entire nation was built around hating beings like him. Mothers told stories to their children about shapeshifters who kidnapped babies and replaced them with their own wicked spawn. Sen found this story silly, he didn't even know what he'd do with a baby.

Even though Sen had chosen against acting as his career, he had picked up a few things which helped him during his cons. Most actors when they had to play a specific part would do something to help them get into character, a personal ritual, a prayer or a physical motion. Sen had liked the ones who had an article of their costume that they'd wait until the last second to put on, those actors would mentally attach the character's persona to that little thing and would only fully become the character once it was on.

That habit had helped him become as skilled as he was at impersonations. Now as he approached he pulled a small bejewelled ring decorated with small stones which shined strangely in the light of Cynda's Eye. It was one of the few things he'd managed to secure from his treasure stash before escaping and he'd never seen it shine like this before, instead, it had always sparkled in the bright light of the sun.

"Can't think of that right now. You are Seltheria. A twenty-two-year-old dark elf apprenticed to a master sorcerer. He's sent you to join this group in order to gain some worldly experience, which you sorely lack or so you think. His name is Dondaren and he is a reclusive hermit, he keeps his past hidden but you've gleaned that a terrible tragedy caused him to withdraw from other people. He chose you because of your appearance as he's getting on in his years and is looking to produce an heir who he can actually teach because you are talentless you don't know this, however. Seltheria is a clumsy, naive and occasionally vacant woman. She enjoys the attention from men and loves to tease and flirt but treasures her virginity and guards it carefully as her Master demands. You are nervous and yet excited about this journey and unaware that the real reason he's sent you away is because you recently accidentally destroyed his alchemy lab and he wanted you out of the Tower for a while before he strangled you. You only show any talent in illusion magic and even then it's almost non-existant. You worry about being a burden on the others and do your best to help but are so laughably incompetent that it comes off as endearing. Your master said you could share his name but not where his Tower is located. If pressed you'll whisper as if you were worried he could hear you that it's a really big tree in an even bigger forest far to whichever direction is the opposite from where the group is currently headed.

You are Seltheria. I am Seltheria."

Sen slipped the ring on and vanished into his own mind.

Seltheria's eyes lit up with joy as she finally found the group her master had told her about. "I'm so glad I found you all!" she said noticing and filing away that the Naga stuttered a little in her presence. The owner of the house soon joined them, unable to meet her eyes and instead seeming to find something interesting to stare at in the flowerbed. She giggled a little at his bashfulness and clapped her hands cheerfully together, bouncing gleefully. "Desrick! You're the orc Master told me to find! Apparently, there are some people here I'm supposed to join!" A small part of Seltheria's mind, currently asleep, marvelled at the difference in culture between the orc's name and race. A fascinating story likely lay beyond it.

A female orc suddenly rushed in, cutting off her introduction, and explained in shortened breaths that apparently someone named Tomo had gone missing. She begged for help and another newcomer joined the group out front, this one was a dark elf scarred and muscular. Somewhere deep down in her brain, Seltheria stored away the mental image of his face, a network of scars like that could be added to many bodies to enhance a story. The drow quickly pledged his assistance in a serious fashion.

Seltheria's eyes sparkled as she clapped again happily. "How noble! Is our group already going on a brave mission to save an innocent? Oh my it's just like the stories I heard when I was a child! You all must be brave heroes indeed!"

 

[Mythee]

"I've been told I don't play well with others." With wry humor, she answered Desrick's comment. She didn't buy into the passion most fighters had for their skillsets. Hers were a result of grit and discipline; she might have held some satisfaction in the distant past for her aptitudes and achievements before they had taken a dark turn, but every bit of her martial prowess had been honed to bloody, torture and maim for the past decades. Do enough of that and any pride once felt upon its successful execution dries up into an apathetic husk. So, yeah. The lady fighter didn't want to fight for no reason. "Besides, I've got priorities, like watching this heartwarming scene. Just look at these adorable bastards."
Falsedge smirked invisibly and jabbed a thumb at the social grooming unfolding between Ora and Lohrithe, both out of place in her mockery and indulgent in her people-watching. Well, everyone needed hobbies. And it was true, those two were heartwarming. She remained seated, scrubbing the last armored boot as Desrick went to greet the strangers. His house, after all.

Around the corner, Valac felt his heart quicken when he saw the dark elf's cheeks color themselves, suddenly inspiring him to make silent protest at the world. That couldn't be allowed, right? Who even blushes at something so small? Nobody does, I'm not overreacting. He was grateful when the orc arrived, allowing him to turn and incline himself shyly in greeting.
"Ah, um- nice to meet you Desrick. I'm Valac, Valac of Greenhaven, and this is my friend and mentor Hael Myrin Lavarre." He turned to indicate the magi, but there was a disturbance in his face as the dark-elven beauty had begun to bounce up and down, sending his gaze firmly into the safety of Desrick's flowerbed. That couldn't be allowed... right?
"Nice... flowers. My mom gardens." He spoke awkwardly to his fellow flowergazer. Oh boy. Was there a spell Hael could use to return him to his senses?

Back with the others, Razah's frantic arrival surprised Falsedge, her tale drawing the War Djinn's full attention. Of course the same negligent woman from the previous day had let the kid go around unsupervised, all the while orcs were going missing. Actually, how much she knew about that was another question that hadn't yet been answered. Regardless, she knew cyndaran naiveté was going to spell trouble for them, but this timing was interesting, wasn't it. But there was no time to deliberate. In a few quick snaps the straps of her boots were tightened and Falsedge was up on her feet, slinging her swords on while initiating a protocol all officers of the law were meant to be familiar with.
"We need an immediate dispatch to the location he went missing. I'll go with that group." Time was of the essence, they didn't want to lose their traces. She addressed Razah, loud and clear enough for everyone: "Someone else needs notify those scouts from yesterday if you haven't already." Their fleet-footedness, ability to disseminate an alert about the missing child, and their knowledge of the area would be crucial to a search. "Meanwhile, your job is to think and remember. Is there anyone your brat trusts, someone he would have told about his hideout? Someone he might follow if asked? Give us names, appearances, anything you can. We need to keep an eye out for them, question them if we find them. This information should also be relayed to the wood-elves as well." Of course, if anyone was planning to argue with those tested and practiced instructions, Falsedge wasn't going to putter about foolishly in debate. All set to go, she stood by Desrick. "Potential kidnapper already has a head star- is that a snake? Boy? Attached-? Ah, nevermind." Ample time for snake people, or sneeple, to distract her on some other occasion. He had a sword, unusually for a Cyndaran. The way he ogled her reminded her of the crowd when they'd gone for drinks together. She glanced over the others- wood-elf, seems to have come with sneeple, meet you later, and a sinful exaggeration of Lohrithe that almost had her spit-take in her mask. "-holy shit woman, ease up on our loins. All right, someone point me to this stick fort."

Valac seemed to almost shrink into himself, thick dark serpent's tail coiling into an anxious spiral as events around him unfolded into something that wasn't as peaceful as what the waterdoves ought to have forecasted. Maybe. Hael did say he didn't know auguration, after all. This wasn't how he'd imagined he would be meeting Summenans for the first time since his childhood. (Or earlier childhood, one could say.)
"Is there any way I can help?" He asked, uncertain.

Zazz SilverFlight Flutterby deer cherub Rhaine Rough Patch Nevina