((If you want to join, please pop in on the OOC chat and talk to me about what you want your character to be/do in the party and how to fit them in. Thank you for your interest, but the players have been picked.))
A spell of such magnitude worried the phoenix, and once more his mind churned through possibility after possibility like a river tumbling stones. For now, his family was safe. Guarded by distance and warded by incense from his own feathers. Those first few to slumber had been revived and moved to safer points, deeper in their valley. But the stockpiles could only hold for so long and time was clearly of the essence. In his brief flight through neighboring lands, he had seen countless bodies sleeping where they fell and too few left who could move them to safety.
His heart went out to them, but he could not bear to delay. Something stirred to the north and its intentions were unpure. So unpure, he felt it in his hollow bones leagues upon leagues away.
For now, he made his way west by southwest towards a specific site, a rallying song pouring from his throat. He hoped there remained some scholars or some long-lived folk who might know what the sight of that meant. He hoped there would be some to answer the call. And most importantly, he hoped he could aid them in their coming journey.
Utterly exhausted but still beyond sleep, a traveler stepped through the doors of the quiet inn. People slumped in their impromptu slumber, and thankfully even those who had passed out in their plates had self-corrected. The proprietor lay awkwardly over a prized keg of something, as though he'd had just enough time to register the wave of sleep and not enough to fully react. A dog pile was concentrated around the door.
"Tch," the traveler picked her way gingerly through the room, only stepping on those who looked sturdy enough to take it. "Damn him," she growled, though it didn't seem directed at anyone present.
A grunt and she hefted herself over the counter, then another and she shifted the portly innkeep to lean on it instead. Then she filled one of her waterskins with the strong-smelling drink and scrounged for food.
After gathering enough supplies to continue, she returned outdoors and sighed. What a mess. All this, and for what? People knocked out, all exposed to the elements and all manner of beasts... Opportunistic degenerates like herself, helping themselves to anything that wasn't locked down (sometimes cracking the locks, when they wanted the practice). Before long, there'd be nothing left but ruined homes and fallow fields and terrified scavengers fleeing what was coming. The brave ones who'd fight it would be dead, for sure. And she wasn't particularly brave.
As she made her way further south a strange song filled the air and she paused. Something about it resonated and she watched its source without the usual fear that might be afforded such a large, black bird. Maybe her earlier assessment hadn't been strictly accurate. Maybe there was a chance to do something and maybe that bird was an omen. A lot of maybes to bother following on, but she didn't really have a better plan. And she was very tired of running alone.
She adjusted her course, now headed more west than south along the roads. If she could keep the bird in sight, she'd probably find something good. Maybe. Or at least others curious enough to chase weird birds.
A spell of such magnitude worried the phoenix, and once more his mind churned through possibility after possibility like a river tumbling stones. For now, his family was safe. Guarded by distance and warded by incense from his own feathers. Those first few to slumber had been revived and moved to safer points, deeper in their valley. But the stockpiles could only hold for so long and time was clearly of the essence. In his brief flight through neighboring lands, he had seen countless bodies sleeping where they fell and too few left who could move them to safety.
His heart went out to them, but he could not bear to delay. Something stirred to the north and its intentions were unpure. So unpure, he felt it in his hollow bones leagues upon leagues away.
For now, he made his way west by southwest towards a specific site, a rallying song pouring from his throat. He hoped there remained some scholars or some long-lived folk who might know what the sight of that meant. He hoped there would be some to answer the call. And most importantly, he hoped he could aid them in their coming journey.
Utterly exhausted but still beyond sleep, a traveler stepped through the doors of the quiet inn. People slumped in their impromptu slumber, and thankfully even those who had passed out in their plates had self-corrected. The proprietor lay awkwardly over a prized keg of something, as though he'd had just enough time to register the wave of sleep and not enough to fully react. A dog pile was concentrated around the door.
"Tch," the traveler picked her way gingerly through the room, only stepping on those who looked sturdy enough to take it. "Damn him," she growled, though it didn't seem directed at anyone present.
A grunt and she hefted herself over the counter, then another and she shifted the portly innkeep to lean on it instead. Then she filled one of her waterskins with the strong-smelling drink and scrounged for food.
After gathering enough supplies to continue, she returned outdoors and sighed. What a mess. All this, and for what? People knocked out, all exposed to the elements and all manner of beasts... Opportunistic degenerates like herself, helping themselves to anything that wasn't locked down (sometimes cracking the locks, when they wanted the practice). Before long, there'd be nothing left but ruined homes and fallow fields and terrified scavengers fleeing what was coming. The brave ones who'd fight it would be dead, for sure. And she wasn't particularly brave.
As she made her way further south a strange song filled the air and she paused. Something about it resonated and she watched its source without the usual fear that might be afforded such a large, black bird. Maybe her earlier assessment hadn't been strictly accurate. Maybe there was a chance to do something and maybe that bird was an omen. A lot of maybes to bother following on, but she didn't really have a better plan. And she was very tired of running alone.
She adjusted her course, now headed more west than south along the roads. If she could keep the bird in sight, she'd probably find something good. Maybe. Or at least others curious enough to chase weird birds.
In this slumbering world, time had become blurred to the young dryad. The air was silent- no songbirds whistled their tune, no insects chattered or buzzed, and even the wind seemed to have quieted down. It was an unnatural absence of life, something she had never witnessed before in any of her years. It was as if all at once a billowing wave of sleep had swept across these lands, bringing upon an endless dream.
She had been tending to the exotic flowers of her grove when this power had wrapped itself around life. The animals had all slumped down in a deep haze, their consciousness lost to the world. Birds dropped from both sky and tree, and though she had done her best to slow their descent, some would never wake again. The great guardians of her forests too had fallen to this event, their branches drooping low and glowing eyes closed.
The gravity of all of this was not lost to her; this was not a natural occurrence. Something, somewhere- somebody, perhaps, had caused this. Demeter had wept when reality came crashing upon her, and she felt like she had failed the very nature that was her birthright to protect. Just as she was wiping the tears from her amber eyes, however, a mystical song caught her ears.
Though she had not seen what had caused that mighty cry, she knew that wherever it was, there was bound to be creatures that had not fallen to this horrible sleep. She rose from her equine legs, squinting as she saw the vague avian shape soaring across the sky. Rejuvenated with a new hope, she thoughtlessly galloped after this new discovery. Not all was lost, she prayed to herself, ready to see whatever the horizon had in store for her.
She had been tending to the exotic flowers of her grove when this power had wrapped itself around life. The animals had all slumped down in a deep haze, their consciousness lost to the world. Birds dropped from both sky and tree, and though she had done her best to slow their descent, some would never wake again. The great guardians of her forests too had fallen to this event, their branches drooping low and glowing eyes closed.
The gravity of all of this was not lost to her; this was not a natural occurrence. Something, somewhere- somebody, perhaps, had caused this. Demeter had wept when reality came crashing upon her, and she felt like she had failed the very nature that was her birthright to protect. Just as she was wiping the tears from her amber eyes, however, a mystical song caught her ears.
Though she had not seen what had caused that mighty cry, she knew that wherever it was, there was bound to be creatures that had not fallen to this horrible sleep. She rose from her equine legs, squinting as she saw the vague avian shape soaring across the sky. Rejuvenated with a new hope, she thoughtlessly galloped after this new discovery. Not all was lost, she prayed to herself, ready to see whatever the horizon had in store for her.
She had been resting in a thicket of flowers and trees, eyes closed as she listened to the river she rested near. No birds sang, there was no scurrying that would signify a forest creature. Nothing. Like the other animals, her people, one by one, had succumbed to an unnatural slumber, leaving her as the sole ‘survivor’, if she could call it that, from this dreadful curse. A curse was all she could think this was. She had tried to use her magic to rouse them, but nothing worked. She had fallen to delirium, which dissolved into an immense sadness.
Unicorns weren’t meant to be alone.
So long as two unicorns lived, side by side, they would be happy until the end of their days. But with just one, it was easy to wither.
And wither she did.
Her head hung low, muzzle nearly touching the ground as she sulked. It wasn’t a sulk one would find from teenagers or whiny children, or even upset dogs. No, this was a unicorns pain, where they lost their will to live.
It wasn’t until the sound of a familiar creature that startled her, blue eyes shooting open and head lifting skyward. A creature as old as herself would know that call anywhere. Though she knew not the language, the tone was easy to make out. Hope. It was a call of hope. It was a call to arms. And she would heed the call, hoping beyond hope another of her kind would come. To not be alone.
Rising to her hooves, the silver mare galloped off through the woods. She barely made a sound, sun glistening off her alabaster pelt. Even in full gallop, the small unicorn leaped over fallen logs and twisted around trees as if she knew this entire forest by heart. And that she did.
Unicorns weren’t meant to be alone.
So long as two unicorns lived, side by side, they would be happy until the end of their days. But with just one, it was easy to wither.
And wither she did.
Her head hung low, muzzle nearly touching the ground as she sulked. It wasn’t a sulk one would find from teenagers or whiny children, or even upset dogs. No, this was a unicorns pain, where they lost their will to live.
It wasn’t until the sound of a familiar creature that startled her, blue eyes shooting open and head lifting skyward. A creature as old as herself would know that call anywhere. Though she knew not the language, the tone was easy to make out. Hope. It was a call of hope. It was a call to arms. And she would heed the call, hoping beyond hope another of her kind would come. To not be alone.
Rising to her hooves, the silver mare galloped off through the woods. She barely made a sound, sun glistening off her alabaster pelt. Even in full gallop, the small unicorn leaped over fallen logs and twisted around trees as if she knew this entire forest by heart. And that she did.
The city was eerily quiet. Indeed, the world itself seemed to be lost in a state of dreamlike reverie, and instead of waking with her passing, the silence only seemed to deepen.
The slumbering forms of men and women, young and old alike were huddled in the doorways, in the streets, hanging halfway out of windows. Some of them appeared to have slouched against a wall, as if they had sensed the oncoming wave of drowsiness and had done their best to oblige to it. Others had not been so lucky; a man's body lay bent on the cobblestone of the street, fallen from and pummeled by the cart that two oxen had been hauling. The beasts themselves had plod to a lethargic halt in the middle of the road, and there they stood yet, horns spearing the stone before them.
Borealis tread softly; there was an otherworldly aura about the city. She had been sure to remain away from the heart of the thing, this slumbering beast that threatened to wake at any second. A mystery of ultimate proportion had unraveled before her, made all the more forbidding by the palpable air of darkness that emanated from each and every Sleeper. This is what the huntress had named the cursed, the wretched, for lack of a better word. Sleepers. Birds, beasts, humans, nonhumans... all had fallen captive to this unyielding force.
The huntress could give no guess as to why she had been left standing, when the creeping world around her fell at her feet. Why was she the last, the survivor, the one left to be the hero? She had been far to the south when it had began here in the north; against all instinct, she had fled toward the sorcery instead of away. There was just something terribly intriguing about a town of slumbering people, something that would definitely have a very interesting explanation behind it. But then a town had turned into a city, and a city into a city-state, and then into a country. It was possible that by this time the curse had enveloped the known world.
"Why am I here," she muttered to the drooping face of a basset hound that sprawled on a doorstep. It was not a question, for she expected no answer. "Why am I here, and what do I expect to find."
Every once and awhile, the silence was broken by a singular snort, or a whimper, or a murmur. Everyone and everything was as silent and still as though they had already passed into the grave, with only the occasional and unpredictable stir to break the monotony. This, above all else, was what made Borealis flinch so visibly when a distant, bolstering melody floated to her on a breeze.
An omen? was what immediately sprang to mind, though she did not consider herself to be superstitious. More likely was another living thing in this world of dream, hoping to arouse any that might have been spared. Borealis stood motionless while the song grew louder, stronger, and she looked to the skies to see a midnight-colored bird soar above. It was difficult to tell if it was of magical quality or not, but either way the huntress was desperate for contact with another soul, animal or human. And so she broke into a sprint, unhooking the bow from her back in case she encountered anything dangerous.
The slumbering forms of men and women, young and old alike were huddled in the doorways, in the streets, hanging halfway out of windows. Some of them appeared to have slouched against a wall, as if they had sensed the oncoming wave of drowsiness and had done their best to oblige to it. Others had not been so lucky; a man's body lay bent on the cobblestone of the street, fallen from and pummeled by the cart that two oxen had been hauling. The beasts themselves had plod to a lethargic halt in the middle of the road, and there they stood yet, horns spearing the stone before them.
Borealis tread softly; there was an otherworldly aura about the city. She had been sure to remain away from the heart of the thing, this slumbering beast that threatened to wake at any second. A mystery of ultimate proportion had unraveled before her, made all the more forbidding by the palpable air of darkness that emanated from each and every Sleeper. This is what the huntress had named the cursed, the wretched, for lack of a better word. Sleepers. Birds, beasts, humans, nonhumans... all had fallen captive to this unyielding force.
The huntress could give no guess as to why she had been left standing, when the creeping world around her fell at her feet. Why was she the last, the survivor, the one left to be the hero? She had been far to the south when it had began here in the north; against all instinct, she had fled toward the sorcery instead of away. There was just something terribly intriguing about a town of slumbering people, something that would definitely have a very interesting explanation behind it. But then a town had turned into a city, and a city into a city-state, and then into a country. It was possible that by this time the curse had enveloped the known world.
"Why am I here," she muttered to the drooping face of a basset hound that sprawled on a doorstep. It was not a question, for she expected no answer. "Why am I here, and what do I expect to find."
Every once and awhile, the silence was broken by a singular snort, or a whimper, or a murmur. Everyone and everything was as silent and still as though they had already passed into the grave, with only the occasional and unpredictable stir to break the monotony. This, above all else, was what made Borealis flinch so visibly when a distant, bolstering melody floated to her on a breeze.
An omen? was what immediately sprang to mind, though she did not consider herself to be superstitious. More likely was another living thing in this world of dream, hoping to arouse any that might have been spared. Borealis stood motionless while the song grew louder, stronger, and she looked to the skies to see a midnight-colored bird soar above. It was difficult to tell if it was of magical quality or not, but either way the huntress was desperate for contact with another soul, animal or human. And so she broke into a sprint, unhooking the bow from her back in case she encountered anything dangerous.
By the time Cedric had managed to drag his elder brother’s body through the muck and dirt and stones, Jason was filthy as a pig and Cedric was exhausted. They had been sparring, and when Cedric had finally struck Jason, he whooped with pride and gave a wide grin. It had been hard to find a single open spot in his brother’s defense, and when one suddenly displayed itself, he should’ve known something was wrong. Jason’s expression had fallen to confusion, and then the male slumped down in the mud, leaning on his sword as his eyes fell shut. Even Cedric felt the tug- some kind of magic or charm, he was unsure, but his concern for his brother managed to keep him awake. He scrambled to the older boy and after a few unsuccessful attempts to wake him (including slapping him, mocking him and downright sobbing and begging him to wake once all else prove fruitless), slid his own arms beneath his armpits and began to drag him from the wide muddy clearing. He could see that horses in their stables had fallen asleep, the stablehand slumped over the railing and the oats he had been feeding them scattered around the ground. A few chickens had made their way there, but the last of them stumbled before flopping ungracefully to its side.
He managed to bring Jason back to the inn they had taken up residence in, dumping the muddy prince in his bed with about as much grace as that chicken had- and then he himself sat on the opposite bed with a great sigh, putting his head in his hands.
Cedric wasn’t exactly built to be alone. Though he was toned and great with maps and spells, and especially with a bow, Cedric lacked courage more than anything. Jason was always the one who plunged headfirst into battle, and that was when you would find Cedric at his side, but now? He sat in that room, watching his sleeping brother as the rest of the town fell to the sleep. He cried, maybe once or twice, but dried his tears after a few moments- a Prince shouldn’t cry, especially not over another man. Even blood, it was unbecoming, or as Jason would put it, “not manly”.
The prince had spent some time sulking, pacing and throwing just a few temper tantrums (he had gone and bloodied his knuckles punching walls, though such violence was not common of him), when he heard a sound outside- he scrambled to the window of the small room, pressing his face to the glass as he peered out and observed the bird in the sky- his eyes glittered and for a moment, he completely ignored the woe he felt, awe taking its place.
The bird was flying further away; the realization hit him like a stone, and the young prince scrambled around the room, throwing his things into his bag, securing his bow over his shoulders and pulling his quiver up on his back. He cast an anxious glance to his brother, still fast asleep, and shut his eyes; a few quiet murmurs passed his lips before the charm was cast, a simple protection ward. Hopefully that would be good enough to keep Jason safe- if he was awake, after all, others must’ve been awake too.
The young prince dashed down the stairs, bouncing over bodies and sleepers, and ran out the door, clutching his books to his chest. This was a signal, and though he wasn’t sure who all would respond, he was certain it would at least be worth investigating. And maybe he’d get the chance to meet this wonderful creature... with that hope in his heart, he bounded out of the inn doors and down the cobblestone road, following after the bird and its song.
He managed to bring Jason back to the inn they had taken up residence in, dumping the muddy prince in his bed with about as much grace as that chicken had- and then he himself sat on the opposite bed with a great sigh, putting his head in his hands.
Cedric wasn’t exactly built to be alone. Though he was toned and great with maps and spells, and especially with a bow, Cedric lacked courage more than anything. Jason was always the one who plunged headfirst into battle, and that was when you would find Cedric at his side, but now? He sat in that room, watching his sleeping brother as the rest of the town fell to the sleep. He cried, maybe once or twice, but dried his tears after a few moments- a Prince shouldn’t cry, especially not over another man. Even blood, it was unbecoming, or as Jason would put it, “not manly”.
The prince had spent some time sulking, pacing and throwing just a few temper tantrums (he had gone and bloodied his knuckles punching walls, though such violence was not common of him), when he heard a sound outside- he scrambled to the window of the small room, pressing his face to the glass as he peered out and observed the bird in the sky- his eyes glittered and for a moment, he completely ignored the woe he felt, awe taking its place.
The bird was flying further away; the realization hit him like a stone, and the young prince scrambled around the room, throwing his things into his bag, securing his bow over his shoulders and pulling his quiver up on his back. He cast an anxious glance to his brother, still fast asleep, and shut his eyes; a few quiet murmurs passed his lips before the charm was cast, a simple protection ward. Hopefully that would be good enough to keep Jason safe- if he was awake, after all, others must’ve been awake too.
The young prince dashed down the stairs, bouncing over bodies and sleepers, and ran out the door, clutching his books to his chest. This was a signal, and though he wasn’t sure who all would respond, he was certain it would at least be worth investigating. And maybe he’d get the chance to meet this wonderful creature... with that hope in his heart, he bounded out of the inn doors and down the cobblestone road, following after the bird and its song.
Far to the southwest of the spell-source, there lay a mound mostly hidden by time-worn rubble and vines. All that remained of the external structure was a grand arch and lumpy stones barely recognizable as statuary. Kekoa circled the site, scanning for any attendants who might also remain, but saw none. Then he checked again, wheeling through the air in figure eights and calling out in the hopes that someone might answer.
Of course he wouldn't be so lucky... At least here, though, the spell had yet to touch. Insects still hummed and small beasts scurried to and fro. There was plenty to hunt and eat on these grounds. There would be time to rest from his flight, after he had seen to a few more things.
Kekoa landed and entered the mound's tunnel system, striding along with care.
Surprisingly, the internal structure was intact - the wards placed years prior had held. Locks and doors even functioned as they were meant to, responding to the proper notes of their songs. The items within were safe, as they had been for centuries. All they needed now were folk to wield them.
A few days, he decided, and then he would try to forge ahead on his own. He was stronger now than he had been then... as unlikely as it was, perhaps this time it would be enough. If no others came, it would have to be.
Verifying that everything was in order, the pheonix returned outdoors to wait. He chose to perch on the shrine gate - the standing arch - and from there, he sang himself to sleep.
He didn't know how much time passed when something changed. Some other creature had entered into range, larger than your average woods-beast. Greater emotional depth, too.
Excited, Kekoa warbled a greeting.
Of course he wouldn't be so lucky... At least here, though, the spell had yet to touch. Insects still hummed and small beasts scurried to and fro. There was plenty to hunt and eat on these grounds. There would be time to rest from his flight, after he had seen to a few more things.
Kekoa landed and entered the mound's tunnel system, striding along with care.
Surprisingly, the internal structure was intact - the wards placed years prior had held. Locks and doors even functioned as they were meant to, responding to the proper notes of their songs. The items within were safe, as they had been for centuries. All they needed now were folk to wield them.
A few days, he decided, and then he would try to forge ahead on his own. He was stronger now than he had been then... as unlikely as it was, perhaps this time it would be enough. If no others came, it would have to be.
Verifying that everything was in order, the pheonix returned outdoors to wait. He chose to perch on the shrine gate - the standing arch - and from there, he sang himself to sleep.
He didn't know how much time passed when something changed. Some other creature had entered into range, larger than your average woods-beast. Greater emotional depth, too.
Excited, Kekoa warbled a greeting.
Demeter felt as if she had been wandering forever. The slumbering land offered no indication of how close she was to finding any answers, for the only creatures she encountered were fast asleep. She lifted her head to the sky, brushing soft locks of hair from her face- the sky was empty of any birds, providing only rolling clouds and the first few glittering stars of the evening. If not for the circumstances, she would have considered such a mesmerizing sight peaceful.
Just as fast as her confidence had grew, it now fell short. How long had she been out here? Was she truly the last waking being in this living dream? Her fur quivered nervously at the thought of being alone, for she had never been without other life present; the thought alone horrified her.
It was only after what had felt like hours that she laid eyes upon the world of waking again.
The signs were small at first. A buzzing insect flying past her ear, a gentle tweet of a bird. These were the first indicators that she was, in fact, not the only creature to still thrive, and she felt her heart swell with a rekindled determination. Her smile was soft and kind as a finch landed on her gnarled wooden arm, providing her with a comfort that encouraged her to carry on.
"How is it that you have not fallen too, my little friend?" she asked, fully aware that she was talking to herself.
With her new companion resting on her shoulder, the dryad carried on until she came to a site that held an undeniable magic presence. It was one that no mortal creature would bear, nor was it from the long abandoned shrine itself. She tilted her head curiously, coming to a pause as she surveyed her surroundings. Forgotten architecture, stories lost to the passage of time, a pitch black bird...
Demeter clasped her hands to her mouth and squealed at the sight of this grand phoenix, her avian friend squawking in surprise and fleeing from her arm. Dappled legs pattered nervously against the ground, and her amber eyes were wide with surprise- was this real, or had she fallen asleep and was now dreaming?
"A-ah! Are you really there, mister phoenix? I'm not imagining you, am I?"
Just as fast as her confidence had grew, it now fell short. How long had she been out here? Was she truly the last waking being in this living dream? Her fur quivered nervously at the thought of being alone, for she had never been without other life present; the thought alone horrified her.
It was only after what had felt like hours that she laid eyes upon the world of waking again.
The signs were small at first. A buzzing insect flying past her ear, a gentle tweet of a bird. These were the first indicators that she was, in fact, not the only creature to still thrive, and she felt her heart swell with a rekindled determination. Her smile was soft and kind as a finch landed on her gnarled wooden arm, providing her with a comfort that encouraged her to carry on.
"How is it that you have not fallen too, my little friend?" she asked, fully aware that she was talking to herself.
With her new companion resting on her shoulder, the dryad carried on until she came to a site that held an undeniable magic presence. It was one that no mortal creature would bear, nor was it from the long abandoned shrine itself. She tilted her head curiously, coming to a pause as she surveyed her surroundings. Forgotten architecture, stories lost to the passage of time, a pitch black bird...
Demeter clasped her hands to her mouth and squealed at the sight of this grand phoenix, her avian friend squawking in surprise and fleeing from her arm. Dappled legs pattered nervously against the ground, and her amber eyes were wide with surprise- was this real, or had she fallen asleep and was now dreaming?
"A-ah! Are you really there, mister phoenix? I'm not imagining you, am I?"
They say there is no rest for the wicked, but what about rest for the pure and weary of heart?
She wasn't sure how long she had traveled. For all she knew, the moon could have risen and fallen and she would never have noticed. The song seemed to go on forever, snatching her heart like an anglers lure and tugging her fast towards an unknown location. She had to follow. She had to heed the call. A unicorn abandoning hope was not a unicorn at all, and the silver mare would be damned before she turned away from such a song. No unicorn worth their horn would.
Forests turned to meadows, meadows turned to riverbeds; and so did the land change beneath her cloven hooves. She would not rest for more than a moment at a time, either to get her bearing or to sip from a purified stream of her mending. Food would only taste like ash in her mouth, so deep did the loss of her kind leave a bitter taste upon her pallet. No, food would wait until she was sure she could even stomach it.
She knew she was drawing near when a birds call reached her ears. It was clear and true, a song of life. The distant sound of buzzing and chirping bugs alerted her to a land where the Sleeping Death did not touch, and she was desperate to reach there. It mattered not what came between her and the Land of Hope, she would find her way around it, or through it, if it came down to it.
So when she finally found herself surrounded by the sounds of nature, did her hoof-steps slow. Ears were perked and listening, eyes wide open and seeking. She was on high alert just in case this was some kind of trap, a trap that would be clever enough to capture the last of the Awakened Unicorns. She wouldn't be so easy to catch unless the Master of the Sleeping Death found out why she wasn't claimed. Deep in her heart, though, she desired to join her kin...
A harmonic voice reached her ears, so familiar and oh so close. The Maker of the Song. Picking up the pace, though still delicate enough to ensure not a blade of grass was out of place, the ivory mare appeared from behind a tree. Blue eyes fell upon a dark-colored bird, a phoenix she knew, perched high upon a shrine gate; this area was protected in some way and it was not a way she was sure she was familiar with. Those eyes flickered to another familiar form, a creature she hadn't interacted with in many long years, possibly since she was still considered a foal; a dryad. It was a creature she would never forget.
Falling at ease, she was sure these two creatures couldn't possibly be the cause of the Sleeping Death. This was a Place of Hope.
"I have heard your call, Noble Phoenix..." Crowned head lowered in a bow, though eyes were skyward to peer at the Maker of the Song. Though her words rang like the purest bell, a hint of the withered disposition could possibly be noted by the keen of ear. "..and to you, Lady of the Forest." Once again, a bowed head was offered. But those eyes once again turned to the Phoenix as she stayed silent. Ageless eyes were tired, weary, begging for answers she wished she knew the answers to.
On seeing the forest spirit, the phoenix's heart soared. It had been too many years since he had seen such a being, and here she was, having answered his call to arms. "Greetings, dear Lady of the Woods," he hummed and bowed deeply. When he rose, a quiet chuckle escaped him. "I should hope I am not imagined, for this would be a terrible dream to have..."
When another presence entered the site, optimistic despite weariness, Kekoa whistled encouragement. "Welcome. I truly wish this meeting could occur under more auspicious times." Another bow and he swooped down to be on the ground. This put him almost at eye level with the unicorn, but left him craning his neck to look up to the dryad. "I am Kekoa."
He sensed expectant curiosity and gave an apologetic dip of his head. "Please, rest. In three days' time, I plan to go north. I will explain as best I can, closer to departing. Just know: I will need aid in the coming journey."
A few days had passed since she'd first heard the song, and she'd almost given up many times between. When she'd lost sight of the bird, she followed the music; when she'd lost that, she continued southwest. And it had been only a few hours in when she'd fallen out of earshot, travelling on foot as she was.
When she encountered the remnant of bandits along the road, she barely haggled safe passage by giving up half her supplies and the boozy waterskin. When she met others fleeing south, she hitched a ride as far in the same direction as they could take her. That last day or so saw her fumble her way through old forests where, after her last bit of oil ran out, she'd nearly tripped over some weird deer. She rested just long enough there to regain her bearings and continued on.
When she finally reached the mound, something about the place gave her pause. Old... powerful... somehow pure. As though it was made to turn people like her away, or smite them on crossing its threshold. She would have stayed there, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, if not for the bite of some flying insect. Before she could stop the reflex, she'd already swatted. The slap shattered the quiet of the misty dawn.
Silence followed, then the chirp of a bird unlike any she'd ever heard. A scan of the area turned up the one she'd followed to get here - perched on the remains of a statue and looking directly at her. Relief swept through her.
It seemed this was her destination.
Then it spoke and her eyes went wide. "Welcome," it (he?) said. "Please, enter and rest. Should it please you, there are beds in one of the chambers below."
Experience screamed that this was a trap. That she'd succumbed to the magic and it was trying to convince her that this was everything she wanted so she wouldn't fight. Which was ridiculous. If she hadn't fallen there at the start, then why would it happen now? Especially so far from its source?
"Uh, alright," she gave an awkward nod. "Thanks. I, uh, think I'll just set up out here, though. If y'don't mind."
He hadn't even finished his nod when she whipped out her bedroll and a tarp. Using some debris, in minutes she had an ugly tent to lay under. In a few more, she would be asleep.
The phoenix chuckled and returned to dozing, himself.
When another presence entered the site, optimistic despite weariness, Kekoa whistled encouragement. "Welcome. I truly wish this meeting could occur under more auspicious times." Another bow and he swooped down to be on the ground. This put him almost at eye level with the unicorn, but left him craning his neck to look up to the dryad. "I am Kekoa."
He sensed expectant curiosity and gave an apologetic dip of his head. "Please, rest. In three days' time, I plan to go north. I will explain as best I can, closer to departing. Just know: I will need aid in the coming journey."
A few days had passed since she'd first heard the song, and she'd almost given up many times between. When she'd lost sight of the bird, she followed the music; when she'd lost that, she continued southwest. And it had been only a few hours in when she'd fallen out of earshot, travelling on foot as she was.
When she encountered the remnant of bandits along the road, she barely haggled safe passage by giving up half her supplies and the boozy waterskin. When she met others fleeing south, she hitched a ride as far in the same direction as they could take her. That last day or so saw her fumble her way through old forests where, after her last bit of oil ran out, she'd nearly tripped over some weird deer. She rested just long enough there to regain her bearings and continued on.
When she finally reached the mound, something about the place gave her pause. Old... powerful... somehow pure. As though it was made to turn people like her away, or smite them on crossing its threshold. She would have stayed there, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, if not for the bite of some flying insect. Before she could stop the reflex, she'd already swatted. The slap shattered the quiet of the misty dawn.
Silence followed, then the chirp of a bird unlike any she'd ever heard. A scan of the area turned up the one she'd followed to get here - perched on the remains of a statue and looking directly at her. Relief swept through her.
It seemed this was her destination.
Then it spoke and her eyes went wide. "Welcome," it (he?) said. "Please, enter and rest. Should it please you, there are beds in one of the chambers below."
Experience screamed that this was a trap. That she'd succumbed to the magic and it was trying to convince her that this was everything she wanted so she wouldn't fight. Which was ridiculous. If she hadn't fallen there at the start, then why would it happen now? Especially so far from its source?
"Uh, alright," she gave an awkward nod. "Thanks. I, uh, think I'll just set up out here, though. If y'don't mind."
He hadn't even finished his nod when she whipped out her bedroll and a tarp. Using some debris, in minutes she had an ugly tent to lay under. In a few more, she would be asleep.
The phoenix chuckled and returned to dozing, himself.
Cedric was certainly thankful (at least for the first portion of the venture) that this sleeping spell had been enacted- he followed the strange bird and its song as long as he could, running along the main roads and cutting through fields when they proved easier to navigate. And he would also be thankful for his horrible nerves that kept him from sleeping, At least for as long as he could hold out.
When he encountered life, he seemed overly relieved, and with the bees buzzing above him, flying in and out of the fat hive that clung to a tree branch, Cedric found new hope. It would be a little while longer that he managed to stumble on a field where a few horses were grazing, the stableboy apparently rummaging through his things and far too distracted to noticed Cedric sneaking through the brush. In what was probably the least noble thing he had ever done, Cedric reached up gently to brush one of the horses noses, before swinging up on its back and digging his heels into it. If there was one good thing that came out of these adventures with his brother, it was learning to ride bareback.
The trip felt much shorter when he had the horse, though it had been a few days- and he had spent quite a few of those running from the apparent Lord he had stolen the horse from. Too late for apologies.
When he finally began to approach the mound, he hopped from his horse, leading it alongside him. He could feel the power here, and it was further sparked by the pheonix rested on the arch- and of course, followed by the other two very plainly mystic creatures (though he couldnt see Raed in her tent). He stared for a moment, starting to feel a little like the odd man out. It'd be much more fitting for his elder brother to be here, surrounded by all these creatures, and he shifted the lopsided crown around his head before clearing his throat, "...I-I....I'm...." He looked at his horse for a moment, then to Kekoa, and then the others, before swallowing again, "...hello there. I just saw you above and...er....couldn't help but follow...." Whether it was his nerves causing these slip ups, or perhaps exhaustion just settling in, Cedric certainly expected himself to be more awed- he had only once been in the presence of a unicorn, and it had certainly thrown him for a loop. With three very clearly inhuman beings here, he was more anxious than excited.
Just what had he gotten himself into?
When he encountered life, he seemed overly relieved, and with the bees buzzing above him, flying in and out of the fat hive that clung to a tree branch, Cedric found new hope. It would be a little while longer that he managed to stumble on a field where a few horses were grazing, the stableboy apparently rummaging through his things and far too distracted to noticed Cedric sneaking through the brush. In what was probably the least noble thing he had ever done, Cedric reached up gently to brush one of the horses noses, before swinging up on its back and digging his heels into it. If there was one good thing that came out of these adventures with his brother, it was learning to ride bareback.
The trip felt much shorter when he had the horse, though it had been a few days- and he had spent quite a few of those running from the apparent Lord he had stolen the horse from. Too late for apologies.
When he finally began to approach the mound, he hopped from his horse, leading it alongside him. He could feel the power here, and it was further sparked by the pheonix rested on the arch- and of course, followed by the other two very plainly mystic creatures (though he couldnt see Raed in her tent). He stared for a moment, starting to feel a little like the odd man out. It'd be much more fitting for his elder brother to be here, surrounded by all these creatures, and he shifted the lopsided crown around his head before clearing his throat, "...I-I....I'm...." He looked at his horse for a moment, then to Kekoa, and then the others, before swallowing again, "...hello there. I just saw you above and...er....couldn't help but follow...." Whether it was his nerves causing these slip ups, or perhaps exhaustion just settling in, Cedric certainly expected himself to be more awed- he had only once been in the presence of a unicorn, and it had certainly thrown him for a loop. With three very clearly inhuman beings here, he was more anxious than excited.
Just what had he gotten himself into?
Borealis was accustomed to travelling for long periods of time through the harsh, forbidding wilderness, but it hadn’t taken three hours for her to lose sight of the majestic, rousing bird of inky oblivion. When the flashes of the bird through the leafy canopy—the city had turned to forest quickly—had succumbed to distance, the huntress found herself trailing doggedly after the wispy suggestions of a melody. When the song had faded into the ominous silence of the sleeping world, Borealis continued in the basic direction that the beast had been flying; it seemed to have deliberately been following a straight line. She was unfamiliar with this part of the country; the huntress could not tell where the bird was leading her.
The farther Borealis journeyed to the southwest, the less imposing the northeastern blackness became. Instead of shadowing her every move with the underlying presence of the Sleepers, it now seemed to be a consistent, faint reminder that not all was right with the world. Indeed, the huntress would have known this even if she could not sense the evil’s blistering breaths down the back of her neck; for the singular night that she slept during her journey, nothing but the gentle drift of the trees’ branches and the slow crawl of the night sky above suggested that the forest was anything more than deceased.
There was a group of tight-lipped, pale-faced individuals straggling southwards before the onslaught of the spell. Despite their obvious anxiousness, Borealis found them somewhat reassuring; they were the first signs of life that she had encountered after traveling northwards. There might yet be hope, she decided before making her leave of the unnervingly bale-eyed villagers. The gentle shuffle of their feet and the clopping of their beasts of burden faded into the omnipresent Silence, and Borealis came upon an indistinct trail almost immediately. It seemed as though it led in the general direction that she was headed, and so she followed it.
The trail, though difficult to discern and often invisible, led her to a place that seemed sheltered from the spell of magnitude that she could not comprehend. There was, very suddenly, a single, shrill cry of a bird in the boughs above, and Borealis’ head snapped up, her eyes following the dark shape flitting through the leaves. And then, as if assured by that single twitter, the forest was suddenly alive with sounds that seemed deafening from so long wrapped ins silence. The huntress stopped to marvel for a second, then carefully slung her bow back over her shoulder; there could not possibly be anything sinister lurking here.
An hour or two later, Borealis stumbled into a clearing, a clearing of ancient stones that vaguely resembled a statuary. There were strange beings here, beings that she had only heard rumor of: a forest dryad, a unicorn, and the black-feathered bird now recognized as a phoenix. There was a tent erected at the crumbling foot of the statuary, and a man stood off to the side, looking somewhat uneasy. The huntress, after blinking in surprise—there was, she realized, annoyingly more surprise than triumph in her discovery of what she had found—stepped forward, glancing around unsurely at the inhabitants of this place of refuge. Her tongue was frozen with fatigue; she could do nothing more than stare.
The farther Borealis journeyed to the southwest, the less imposing the northeastern blackness became. Instead of shadowing her every move with the underlying presence of the Sleepers, it now seemed to be a consistent, faint reminder that not all was right with the world. Indeed, the huntress would have known this even if she could not sense the evil’s blistering breaths down the back of her neck; for the singular night that she slept during her journey, nothing but the gentle drift of the trees’ branches and the slow crawl of the night sky above suggested that the forest was anything more than deceased.
There was a group of tight-lipped, pale-faced individuals straggling southwards before the onslaught of the spell. Despite their obvious anxiousness, Borealis found them somewhat reassuring; they were the first signs of life that she had encountered after traveling northwards. There might yet be hope, she decided before making her leave of the unnervingly bale-eyed villagers. The gentle shuffle of their feet and the clopping of their beasts of burden faded into the omnipresent Silence, and Borealis came upon an indistinct trail almost immediately. It seemed as though it led in the general direction that she was headed, and so she followed it.
The trail, though difficult to discern and often invisible, led her to a place that seemed sheltered from the spell of magnitude that she could not comprehend. There was, very suddenly, a single, shrill cry of a bird in the boughs above, and Borealis’ head snapped up, her eyes following the dark shape flitting through the leaves. And then, as if assured by that single twitter, the forest was suddenly alive with sounds that seemed deafening from so long wrapped ins silence. The huntress stopped to marvel for a second, then carefully slung her bow back over her shoulder; there could not possibly be anything sinister lurking here.
An hour or two later, Borealis stumbled into a clearing, a clearing of ancient stones that vaguely resembled a statuary. There were strange beings here, beings that she had only heard rumor of: a forest dryad, a unicorn, and the black-feathered bird now recognized as a phoenix. There was a tent erected at the crumbling foot of the statuary, and a man stood off to the side, looking somewhat uneasy. The huntress, after blinking in surprise—there was, she realized, annoyingly more surprise than triumph in her discovery of what she had found—stepped forward, glancing around unsurely at the inhabitants of this place of refuge. Her tongue was frozen with fatigue; she could do nothing more than stare.
"Hello," the phoenix bowed, a smile dancing in his orange eyes. "To both of you." He directed a second bow to Borealis as she approached.
"It is safe here, for now, and you have clearly traveled far. Please, take this time to rest. When you awake--" he stopped himself as a thought struck. There were five others here already. Considerably less than those who had gathered last time, but certainly more than he had expected to arrive. Six, counting himself, and an entire armory to outfit them.
If more came, he could explain as they arrived.
The phoenix shook his head and drifted down from his perch. "My apologies. It may actually be better to explain now and let each of you decide whether to continue south or to remain. That you came here is promising, but I cannot ask you to fight a beastly evil if you don't have it in your heart to do so."
He jogged over to the tent, oddly graceful despite his skipping gait, and lightly thumped the side of it with a wing. The sharp grunt that followed sounded more like it came from a hog than a person.
"Excuse me, Miss. A word."
Another grunt - this time sounding like a bear - and the tent's owner stirred. Boots first, she wiggled out from under her tarp and squinted around while the phoenix apologized once more. The large woman muffled a yawn, but seemed awake enough to continue. So Kekoa did.
"This mound protects a collection of equipment expressly to aid in fighting the monster that made this spell. Below our feet are numerous arms, armors, and artefacts of great utility, made for all manner of creature who might take up the fight. All carry wards and enchantments - some to protect the equipment, some to protect their wielder - and may take time to attune. Please keep that in mind as you make your selection. There should be gear suited to your needs, even if it appears initially to be the wrong shape."
He tilted his head a moment, fixing each of the gathered five in a cryptic look. Finally, he blinked and looked towards the mound's entrance. "Would six strangers fight with the might of an army? Would they bear the compassion to render aid, even to those they'd never meet?"
Then he'd hum and look back to the gathered group. "I will gladly answer any questions you might have. If I do not know it, I may offer speculation but I will introduce it as such."
"It is safe here, for now, and you have clearly traveled far. Please, take this time to rest. When you awake--" he stopped himself as a thought struck. There were five others here already. Considerably less than those who had gathered last time, but certainly more than he had expected to arrive. Six, counting himself, and an entire armory to outfit them.
If more came, he could explain as they arrived.
The phoenix shook his head and drifted down from his perch. "My apologies. It may actually be better to explain now and let each of you decide whether to continue south or to remain. That you came here is promising, but I cannot ask you to fight a beastly evil if you don't have it in your heart to do so."
He jogged over to the tent, oddly graceful despite his skipping gait, and lightly thumped the side of it with a wing. The sharp grunt that followed sounded more like it came from a hog than a person.
"Excuse me, Miss. A word."
Another grunt - this time sounding like a bear - and the tent's owner stirred. Boots first, she wiggled out from under her tarp and squinted around while the phoenix apologized once more. The large woman muffled a yawn, but seemed awake enough to continue. So Kekoa did.
"This mound protects a collection of equipment expressly to aid in fighting the monster that made this spell. Below our feet are numerous arms, armors, and artefacts of great utility, made for all manner of creature who might take up the fight. All carry wards and enchantments - some to protect the equipment, some to protect their wielder - and may take time to attune. Please keep that in mind as you make your selection. There should be gear suited to your needs, even if it appears initially to be the wrong shape."
He tilted his head a moment, fixing each of the gathered five in a cryptic look. Finally, he blinked and looked towards the mound's entrance. "Would six strangers fight with the might of an army? Would they bear the compassion to render aid, even to those they'd never meet?"
Then he'd hum and look back to the gathered group. "I will gladly answer any questions you might have. If I do not know it, I may offer speculation but I will introduce it as such."
Demeter's face lit up with ecstatic hope once she learned this was in fact reality, and it took all she had in her to not hug the ancient bird. Behold, the salvation to all of her fears! She was saved! She prayed, anyways.
"Oh, the most delightful of days! I thought the end was upon us," she offered shyly.
The tall dryad nervously fretted upon the arrival of the elder creature, her warm eyes rapidly fluttering between it and the phoenix. She gave an awkward little wave, only to remember her manners and attempt a clumsy curtsy. To an experienced viewer, it was obvious that she had not quite obtained the endless wisdom the adults of her kind had. She was a youthful, naive little thing...no, she wasn't exactly the book definition of a dryad. Not yet, anyways.
"O-oh! Ah, greetings! M-miss...unicorn?" she said with a quaint smile, hugging her arms around her own waist. It was hard not to feel out of place here, with two beings with intelligence and experience beyond their days. Fate had brought her here, however, and so as she was dismissed, she turned to gently lay herself down in the grove to think.
Time passed slowly, or so it felt. She had spent her hours in thought, racking her mind for ways that she could provide for her host and whoever else might approach. Her magic was not offensive, so she might not be the most powerful, but she could perhaps at least provide sustenance and healing. Would any of her magicka even work? If the whole world had fallen asleep, then it was not out of the question that other things had also been affected.
She watched each new individual with curiosity and glee, barely able to hold herself from rushing to meet them. So many faces that she had never seen before! Maybe one of them knew what had happened? Her bushy tail wagged with excitement, and she felt a bubbling happiness rising in her chest.
Her attention snapped to the smart-looking phoenix when he addressed them as the small group they were, and his mention of some great evil confused her, to say the least. A monster? An army? Her brows furrowed as she struggled to understand this, her long legs easily rising and carrying her over to him.
"Excuse me, mister! You said something about u-uhm, a m-monster?"
"Oh, the most delightful of days! I thought the end was upon us," she offered shyly.
The tall dryad nervously fretted upon the arrival of the elder creature, her warm eyes rapidly fluttering between it and the phoenix. She gave an awkward little wave, only to remember her manners and attempt a clumsy curtsy. To an experienced viewer, it was obvious that she had not quite obtained the endless wisdom the adults of her kind had. She was a youthful, naive little thing...no, she wasn't exactly the book definition of a dryad. Not yet, anyways.
"O-oh! Ah, greetings! M-miss...unicorn?" she said with a quaint smile, hugging her arms around her own waist. It was hard not to feel out of place here, with two beings with intelligence and experience beyond their days. Fate had brought her here, however, and so as she was dismissed, she turned to gently lay herself down in the grove to think.
Time passed slowly, or so it felt. She had spent her hours in thought, racking her mind for ways that she could provide for her host and whoever else might approach. Her magic was not offensive, so she might not be the most powerful, but she could perhaps at least provide sustenance and healing. Would any of her magicka even work? If the whole world had fallen asleep, then it was not out of the question that other things had also been affected.
She watched each new individual with curiosity and glee, barely able to hold herself from rushing to meet them. So many faces that she had never seen before! Maybe one of them knew what had happened? Her bushy tail wagged with excitement, and she felt a bubbling happiness rising in her chest.
Her attention snapped to the smart-looking phoenix when he addressed them as the small group they were, and his mention of some great evil confused her, to say the least. A monster? An army? Her brows furrowed as she struggled to understand this, her long legs easily rising and carrying her over to him.
"Excuse me, mister! You said something about u-uhm, a m-monster?"
Hedera required no formality. But to be respected by both creatures had done wonders to soothe her soul. While the dryad was still young of years, she was a creature to be respected regardless, and Hedera wouldn’t show any less.
There was no continued conversation, the Phoenix who called himself Kekoa had asked them to rest. She said nothing but dipped her head to the side, as to avoid skewering the feathered beast with her horn. Without a sound she had turned and went to settle in a particular grouping of trees not unlike the kind Demeter has sought out, but provided a little shelter with the long grass that nearly disguised them. It felt much warmer here, the energy of life, of the living, reminded her of better days in her home. She slowly lowered herself to the ground and turned her head to rest against her side, much like a deer would. Sleep meant healing, and not just physically.
How long it had been, the Unicorn could not say. But she had rested and slept as much as she needed, though she continued to stay in her little bubble of the sanctum. It might not have been heard, the sound of rustling, if the trio had gone and continued speaking. But since it was silent save for the bird calls and hum of wildlife, Hedera had heard someone coming. She had instinctively rose to her feet, muscles twitching under ivory pelt. She dare not leave her small abode, in case the one who came was the one who caused this mess to begin with.
But it was just a girl, a human, in fact, likely just beginning to sprout into adulthood. She chose to stay hidden, for the time being, concealed in her grasses. But she curiously watched the human converse with Kekoa, set up camp and go to sleep shortly after.
Feeling tired of being in her spot, Hedera got up to wander. And just as she did, the sounds of hooves caught her attention. Anything that loud had to be a horse. Shuffling away towards where Demeter had been resting, she turned her head to peer at the horse and it's rider as it entered the clearing. Another human, though this one male, and he was likely younger than the female who came before him. And one other thing, if that crown upon his head meant anything, this boy was likely a king or a king-to-be. Of what kingdom, Hedera was uncertain and it mattered not. But what nobler a cause than to come to assist some tragedy such as this? If not a king, then certainly a knight.
Prince, King, whatever he was, he wasn't very articulate, but the Unicorn figured that was just nerves. And not long after he had arrived, so too did someone else. Another woman, another human, this one younger than the last. Her attention was snared by Kekoa as he spoke again, and she stayed silent. The more Kekoa spoke, the more uncertain she was.
She was a Unicorn.
Unicorns were creatures of purity, magic, majesty. They weren't meant to fight evil. Wasn't that what knights were for. Her eyes briefly flitted to Cedric, before falling on the Phoenix once more. Then the Phoenix had gone to rouse the first human who had arrived, the one who had taken rest within her tent. Her head lowered some at the bear-like sound within, though lifted again as the woman revealed herself. Kekoa explained about armor and weapons and enchanted items. Seemed strange honestly. A Unicorn had no need for things such as that before... Her head turned to look back in the direction she had come, and she thought longingly of her kind that lay sleeping. Ears folded back slightly before she turned to look back at the Phoenix again.
"What rests down there for a Unicorn?" Hedera finally inquired. "I can purify water and find poison, and I can offer healing. But I am no fighter, Noble Phoenix."
There was no continued conversation, the Phoenix who called himself Kekoa had asked them to rest. She said nothing but dipped her head to the side, as to avoid skewering the feathered beast with her horn. Without a sound she had turned and went to settle in a particular grouping of trees not unlike the kind Demeter has sought out, but provided a little shelter with the long grass that nearly disguised them. It felt much warmer here, the energy of life, of the living, reminded her of better days in her home. She slowly lowered herself to the ground and turned her head to rest against her side, much like a deer would. Sleep meant healing, and not just physically.
How long it had been, the Unicorn could not say. But she had rested and slept as much as she needed, though she continued to stay in her little bubble of the sanctum. It might not have been heard, the sound of rustling, if the trio had gone and continued speaking. But since it was silent save for the bird calls and hum of wildlife, Hedera had heard someone coming. She had instinctively rose to her feet, muscles twitching under ivory pelt. She dare not leave her small abode, in case the one who came was the one who caused this mess to begin with.
But it was just a girl, a human, in fact, likely just beginning to sprout into adulthood. She chose to stay hidden, for the time being, concealed in her grasses. But she curiously watched the human converse with Kekoa, set up camp and go to sleep shortly after.
Feeling tired of being in her spot, Hedera got up to wander. And just as she did, the sounds of hooves caught her attention. Anything that loud had to be a horse. Shuffling away towards where Demeter had been resting, she turned her head to peer at the horse and it's rider as it entered the clearing. Another human, though this one male, and he was likely younger than the female who came before him. And one other thing, if that crown upon his head meant anything, this boy was likely a king or a king-to-be. Of what kingdom, Hedera was uncertain and it mattered not. But what nobler a cause than to come to assist some tragedy such as this? If not a king, then certainly a knight.
Prince, King, whatever he was, he wasn't very articulate, but the Unicorn figured that was just nerves. And not long after he had arrived, so too did someone else. Another woman, another human, this one younger than the last. Her attention was snared by Kekoa as he spoke again, and she stayed silent. The more Kekoa spoke, the more uncertain she was.
She was a Unicorn.
Unicorns were creatures of purity, magic, majesty. They weren't meant to fight evil. Wasn't that what knights were for. Her eyes briefly flitted to Cedric, before falling on the Phoenix once more. Then the Phoenix had gone to rouse the first human who had arrived, the one who had taken rest within her tent. Her head lowered some at the bear-like sound within, though lifted again as the woman revealed herself. Kekoa explained about armor and weapons and enchanted items. Seemed strange honestly. A Unicorn had no need for things such as that before... Her head turned to look back in the direction she had come, and she thought longingly of her kind that lay sleeping. Ears folded back slightly before she turned to look back at the Phoenix again.
"What rests down there for a Unicorn?" Hedera finally inquired. "I can purify water and find poison, and I can offer healing. But I am no fighter, Noble Phoenix."
Bleary-eyed, curls frizzed from having been laid upon, rubbing at her jaw like one might rub a stubbly beard - Raed behaved like anything but a "Miss." That was a term for pretty young women - girls with prospects - or unmarried who ran businesses. If she could have known what Hedera thought of her, stage of life and all, the rogue would probably cackle uncontrollably.
As it were, she listened to the Phoenix and his explanations and rhetorical questions with furrowed brow. Something about the way he talked irritated her. Or maybe it was just that he'd woke her after what felt like no time at all... Hadn't he said 'rest' before? Just make up your mind!
"Ah. Yes," Kekoa answered Demeter with a twinge of sorrow. "The source of the enchanted slumber was a monstrous dragon, one of the worst variety. His greed and desire for power twisted him into that form, where once he was but an elven caster. He was defeated, body destroyed, and his magic sealed away.... There.... is a chance we might only face a shadow of that former caster, or perhaps nothing but the magic itself will need purged.... These possibilities are slim."
Raed scanned those gathered with confusion. Only one other really looked like a combatant - two if you counted the phoenix - and the last human could probably be trained to give fire support... But the bizzarre deer-tree-woman seemed far too sweet and Raed had never even heard of unicorns fighting except in dumb rhymes.
To be fair, though, she hadn't heard many stories of unicorns, period. It just wasn't done among the crowds she frequented. The only talk of unicorns she got to hear was in passing - remarks about comparative rarity, vendors peddling powdered goats' horns and sun-bleached pelts... Those sorts of thing.
Hedera's skepticism drew a warm and reassuring warble from Kekoa. "I think you might surprise yourself, though I understand your hesitation. That you can heal and purify, however, is more than enough. Below are items to strengthen such skills and allow their wearers to hide in plain sight if necessary. And I can speak from experience that there are armors light as air and strong as steel that were built for many non-human frames."
Raed frowned, waiting for him to finish.
"I hate t' be the downer, but how're six folk - three of us probably preeetty mortal - going to do anything to some massive evil? I mean, it'd be bad enough if it was just a single monster; they're tough, but it's doable when you're equipped. But I heard there's other monsters moving in from the east and I know I seen at least a couple groups of bandits roving around along the way. Not t' mention those jerks from Syormica are probably on their way right now to take advantage of the mess." She considered the horrifying thought that maybe these were all headed in to meet with the dragon-thing. Which lasted all of two seconds before she waved it off and shook her head.
"I don't have anything else to bribe them with. So unless some of y'all have good stuff you'd part with, we'd have to fight 'em off. And fighting every bandit, and monster, and war-mongering nut you meet doesn't happen without losing somebody. Not even in stories. Only heroes survive those odds.... You gonna tell me you think anyone here's a hero?"
She rubbed her neck, wondering if maybe she had made a mistake. She wasn't really any more of a fighter than the unicorn, with waaay fewer useful skills. It had been ages since she'd been in a large-scale battle, and if she'd failed then why would now be any different? She'd just manage to muck it all up and then run like the coward she was. Same as always.
"And if I do?" If the phoenix was irritated it didn't carry into his voice. He calmly tilted his head, eyes no less warm than when he'd spoke to Hedera. "You'd be surprised how simple it is to become one... It starts by answering a call."
As it were, she listened to the Phoenix and his explanations and rhetorical questions with furrowed brow. Something about the way he talked irritated her. Or maybe it was just that he'd woke her after what felt like no time at all... Hadn't he said 'rest' before? Just make up your mind!
"Ah. Yes," Kekoa answered Demeter with a twinge of sorrow. "The source of the enchanted slumber was a monstrous dragon, one of the worst variety. His greed and desire for power twisted him into that form, where once he was but an elven caster. He was defeated, body destroyed, and his magic sealed away.... There.... is a chance we might only face a shadow of that former caster, or perhaps nothing but the magic itself will need purged.... These possibilities are slim."
Raed scanned those gathered with confusion. Only one other really looked like a combatant - two if you counted the phoenix - and the last human could probably be trained to give fire support... But the bizzarre deer-tree-woman seemed far too sweet and Raed had never even heard of unicorns fighting except in dumb rhymes.
To be fair, though, she hadn't heard many stories of unicorns, period. It just wasn't done among the crowds she frequented. The only talk of unicorns she got to hear was in passing - remarks about comparative rarity, vendors peddling powdered goats' horns and sun-bleached pelts... Those sorts of thing.
Hedera's skepticism drew a warm and reassuring warble from Kekoa. "I think you might surprise yourself, though I understand your hesitation. That you can heal and purify, however, is more than enough. Below are items to strengthen such skills and allow their wearers to hide in plain sight if necessary. And I can speak from experience that there are armors light as air and strong as steel that were built for many non-human frames."
Raed frowned, waiting for him to finish.
"I hate t' be the downer, but how're six folk - three of us probably preeetty mortal - going to do anything to some massive evil? I mean, it'd be bad enough if it was just a single monster; they're tough, but it's doable when you're equipped. But I heard there's other monsters moving in from the east and I know I seen at least a couple groups of bandits roving around along the way. Not t' mention those jerks from Syormica are probably on their way right now to take advantage of the mess." She considered the horrifying thought that maybe these were all headed in to meet with the dragon-thing. Which lasted all of two seconds before she waved it off and shook her head.
"I don't have anything else to bribe them with. So unless some of y'all have good stuff you'd part with, we'd have to fight 'em off. And fighting every bandit, and monster, and war-mongering nut you meet doesn't happen without losing somebody. Not even in stories. Only heroes survive those odds.... You gonna tell me you think anyone here's a hero?"
She rubbed her neck, wondering if maybe she had made a mistake. She wasn't really any more of a fighter than the unicorn, with waaay fewer useful skills. It had been ages since she'd been in a large-scale battle, and if she'd failed then why would now be any different? She'd just manage to muck it all up and then run like the coward she was. Same as always.
"And if I do?" If the phoenix was irritated it didn't carry into his voice. He calmly tilted his head, eyes no less warm than when he'd spoke to Hedera. "You'd be surprised how simple it is to become one... It starts by answering a call."
Cedric probably would've laughing, hearing someone think of him as a Knight. He was second to throne, and sure he was the smarter one between his brother and himself, but Jason had been-- no, Jason was the Knight. Cedric could fire a bow and swing a short sword as good as any trained soldier, but Jason was the one who charged ahead, he was the one with the shining armor and the glittering blade, set with precious stones. No, Cedric was more a tactician than anything, and with the right books sure, he could pack a punch. Those "right books" were probably what he held clutched to his chest, as if they were a shield. To him, they were certainly as good as any iron or wood, that was certain.
He seemed to stand a little straighter, realizing his soon-to-be allies were sizing him up. If anything happened to Jason...he was the next in line for the throne. He would be King, and a King certainly didn't stutter or shake. No King of Dicon, anyways. His vibrant eyes kept their focus on Kekoa, however, much too anxious to examine the others around him, his fingers absentmindedly dancing along the spine of the books in his arms. The horse beside him payed no mind, eating the grasses around his feet.
Facing some unknown evil surely would be the death of him-- better not to think that way, now that he considered the current situation. It wasn't like Cedric could just waltz away from this- eventually, it would reach home, to his Father and the people. If it hadn't done so already...he swallowed and shifted the blade on his belt, opening his mouth to voice his concerns but snapping it shut when Raed cut in. He words seemed to sting the young man, who had spent his childhood growing up on stories of heroes and epic battles. Hell, those stories were everything that fueled he and his brothers little adventure away from home- what young boy could hear stories of goblins and white armor and fire-breathing beasts, and want to stay within the stone walls of a castle, far from any of these things?
He mentally chided himself-'You wanted to find adventure, Cedric, well adventure has found you. Beggars can't be choosers, don't you remember?' Of course, he had expected to find adventure with his elder brother at his side- now he was sleeping in a sealed inn room, miles and miles away from the dragons and evil sorcerers and god knows what else they would be seeing.
And yet...something in the young man's heart stirred at Kekoa's words. He was right- even in fairy tales, heroes did not magically become such things. The Legendary King Arthur answered the call of the stone...the Prince answered the cries for help from the maiden trapped in the tower. The Hero of Dicon even answered the call, from a force far beyond their control.
"I'll answer this call." He said calmly, the words foreign on his tongue- these weren't the words of the careful tactician Cedric Archerson, no. This was Jason, he could feel it in his heart, "I've people to protect and I won't give in to any scourge that dares threaten my home, or anyone else's for that matter." He felt like his brave words were going to give his companions the wrong idea- but what would be the harm in letting them believe he was a hero just the same? Perhaps...just this once...he could be the one telling his older brother of his great adventures, when they defeated this caster.
He seemed to stand a little straighter, realizing his soon-to-be allies were sizing him up. If anything happened to Jason...he was the next in line for the throne. He would be King, and a King certainly didn't stutter or shake. No King of Dicon, anyways. His vibrant eyes kept their focus on Kekoa, however, much too anxious to examine the others around him, his fingers absentmindedly dancing along the spine of the books in his arms. The horse beside him payed no mind, eating the grasses around his feet.
Facing some unknown evil surely would be the death of him-- better not to think that way, now that he considered the current situation. It wasn't like Cedric could just waltz away from this- eventually, it would reach home, to his Father and the people. If it hadn't done so already...he swallowed and shifted the blade on his belt, opening his mouth to voice his concerns but snapping it shut when Raed cut in. He words seemed to sting the young man, who had spent his childhood growing up on stories of heroes and epic battles. Hell, those stories were everything that fueled he and his brothers little adventure away from home- what young boy could hear stories of goblins and white armor and fire-breathing beasts, and want to stay within the stone walls of a castle, far from any of these things?
He mentally chided himself-'You wanted to find adventure, Cedric, well adventure has found you. Beggars can't be choosers, don't you remember?' Of course, he had expected to find adventure with his elder brother at his side- now he was sleeping in a sealed inn room, miles and miles away from the dragons and evil sorcerers and god knows what else they would be seeing.
And yet...something in the young man's heart stirred at Kekoa's words. He was right- even in fairy tales, heroes did not magically become such things. The Legendary King Arthur answered the call of the stone...the Prince answered the cries for help from the maiden trapped in the tower. The Hero of Dicon even answered the call, from a force far beyond their control.
"I'll answer this call." He said calmly, the words foreign on his tongue- these weren't the words of the careful tactician Cedric Archerson, no. This was Jason, he could feel it in his heart, "I've people to protect and I won't give in to any scourge that dares threaten my home, or anyone else's for that matter." He felt like his brave words were going to give his companions the wrong idea- but what would be the harm in letting them believe he was a hero just the same? Perhaps...just this once...he could be the one telling his older brother of his great adventures, when they defeated this caster.
Borealis had slowly trailed over to the Phoenix and the small group that was gathering. She refrained from rolling her shoulders from lethargy—not the magically-induced kind, of course, simply from pushing herself for so long. Her eyes flickered around the clearing, examining the setting that this little troupe would discuss the current situation in. Her dark green cloak swirled lightly around her in the breeze, and the sunlight warmed her hood. The colors seemed more vibrant here.
Her attention moved onto the members of… what was this, exactly? A vigilante club specializing in outlandish beasts of lore and then mere humans? Borealis cast an appraising eye upon the three mythical creatures; all three held a certain majesty about them, though the unicorn trumped the others in that aspect, though the Phoenix was chief for civilized ferocity and the dryad for the sweet innocence that was so coveted in the huntress’ eyes. The other two were… Well, I suppose that all five of them could be considered nothing less than ‘interesting,’ she mused.
Listening to the conversation that erupted upon her appearance, as the phoenix conversed with the dryad and then the unicorn and then finally the other woman—names were a first priority, she decided—Borealis took an instant liking to the latter. In the ultimate spectrum of instant appreciation, little could compete with refreshing brusqueness. Then the other human, the man, spoke after an apparent mental conflict, and her gaze swept to him. The crown on his head gleamed, demanding to be noticed; he was clearly a man of great importance in some distant land, come to dispel whatever threatened it. Or perhaps he has stolen it from some unfortunate nobleman, Borealis thought humoredly, though I daresay that he carries himself as a royal would.
It was a strange bunch, to be sure. And yet she could feel the strengthening bonds tied between each of them, familiarity borne of a common goal and sinister times.
Borealis was suddenly keenly aware that she appeared to be the youngest there, if the rumors of magical creatures’ elongated lifetimes were anything to judge by.
Nonetheless, and though Borealis was loath to criticize any of these people—oftentimes she found that her respect was elicited from age alone, which was dangerous in the sense of morality—it was her innate nature to analyze. There seemed to be no lack of willingness, though their prowess in battle would be questionable. She herself could only hope that no hordes approached; her brilliance was in one-to-one combat.
Now that the man had pledged his allegiance to the cause, Borealis considered her own pledge. It was simple, in actuality: did she desire the extinguishing of whatever tainted the north? Of course. Was she willing to sacrifice herself physically, mentally, and/or emotionally to see it done? She always had. Could she cooperate with newly-found allies that she did not even know the names of? That caused some hesitation, but Borealis knew it to be badly-founded.
“As do I,” she declared in addition to the blond-haired man’s statement. Her silver eyes turned back to him beneath her hood, gleaming in the shadows, and she continued: “I have faith that, if played right, we can give this spellcaster a moment of pause in this game of life and death. Although,” she added, features darkening, “it is rather difficult to illusion a band of six… ah… merry travelers thwarting something of this magnitude, even with items of magical origin.”
Her attention moved onto the members of… what was this, exactly? A vigilante club specializing in outlandish beasts of lore and then mere humans? Borealis cast an appraising eye upon the three mythical creatures; all three held a certain majesty about them, though the unicorn trumped the others in that aspect, though the Phoenix was chief for civilized ferocity and the dryad for the sweet innocence that was so coveted in the huntress’ eyes. The other two were… Well, I suppose that all five of them could be considered nothing less than ‘interesting,’ she mused.
Listening to the conversation that erupted upon her appearance, as the phoenix conversed with the dryad and then the unicorn and then finally the other woman—names were a first priority, she decided—Borealis took an instant liking to the latter. In the ultimate spectrum of instant appreciation, little could compete with refreshing brusqueness. Then the other human, the man, spoke after an apparent mental conflict, and her gaze swept to him. The crown on his head gleamed, demanding to be noticed; he was clearly a man of great importance in some distant land, come to dispel whatever threatened it. Or perhaps he has stolen it from some unfortunate nobleman, Borealis thought humoredly, though I daresay that he carries himself as a royal would.
It was a strange bunch, to be sure. And yet she could feel the strengthening bonds tied between each of them, familiarity borne of a common goal and sinister times.
Borealis was suddenly keenly aware that she appeared to be the youngest there, if the rumors of magical creatures’ elongated lifetimes were anything to judge by.
Nonetheless, and though Borealis was loath to criticize any of these people—oftentimes she found that her respect was elicited from age alone, which was dangerous in the sense of morality—it was her innate nature to analyze. There seemed to be no lack of willingness, though their prowess in battle would be questionable. She herself could only hope that no hordes approached; her brilliance was in one-to-one combat.
Now that the man had pledged his allegiance to the cause, Borealis considered her own pledge. It was simple, in actuality: did she desire the extinguishing of whatever tainted the north? Of course. Was she willing to sacrifice herself physically, mentally, and/or emotionally to see it done? She always had. Could she cooperate with newly-found allies that she did not even know the names of? That caused some hesitation, but Borealis knew it to be badly-founded.
“As do I,” she declared in addition to the blond-haired man’s statement. Her silver eyes turned back to him beneath her hood, gleaming in the shadows, and she continued: “I have faith that, if played right, we can give this spellcaster a moment of pause in this game of life and death. Although,” she added, features darkening, “it is rather difficult to illusion a band of six… ah… merry travelers thwarting something of this magnitude, even with items of magical origin.”
His own desires to protect and determination to follow through resonated with those of the prince and huntress. Delighted with their answers, Kekoa bugled with a mix of triumph and relief. He wouldn't be alone, at the very least.
Composing himself after that outburst, he'd nod to Borealis and Raed. "Unfortunately, you and the taller Miss are correct. As it stands, our numbers would do little against large waves of enemies. We would have to avoid them entirely or commit to long-term guerilla tactics."
"Were it as simple as taking the few days' travel - er, probably two weeks on foot - directly to the beast, I would disagree. With the right maneuvers and the assistance of those magic items, it would absolutely be doable."
Whether any of the six survived the ordeal was the real question, and one he tactfully kept to himself.
Kekoa paused, considering the last time. It was an unlikely band then, too. Small. Only a handful of dedicated fighters - the rest had learned along the way... He had only been brought on for his healing abilities and the fact that his voice could rally folk across broad distances. He hadn't been a fighter and yet fight he did. Had to, to defend the people he cared for.
And here they were, trying to do the same with considerably fewer people. He didn't like those odds any more than the rest of them.
"Fortunately, there were agreements made after its magics were sealed. Those whose lands and families it threatened, they offered people in the event that the seals failed. As many folk as they could muster, and 'champions' to lead them." He sighed, steeling himself to vocalize the next part. "Unfortunately, since then three of those kingdoms have dissolved or splintered into tens of fiefdoms, and those intact will be reluctant to honor such old words. Especially with their numbers dwindled and the threat of outside forces moving in."
He fluffed and flapped his wings, then smoothed the feathers with his beak, momentarily lost in thought. This he did three times before he focused on the creatures gathered before him.
"The agreements - oaths, truly - were formed of an old magic. Even the descendants of those who spoke the Words would have to honor them if invoked, or forfeit everything they hold dear. I... must admit, I am reluctant to invoke them, even now. It will, however, be easier for us to reach our goal with even a small army behind us. And I would much rather increase our odds of success than go immediately to our enemy and leave the outcome to chance." Or otherwise tempt Fate....
Surely some of the people who remained were warriors? Or could train the able-bodied to fight? The six here certainly wouldn't have time to do all of that themselves.
What terrible odds they had stacked against them.
Another sigh, then his determined bearing returned. "Knowing all this, I must ask once more: are you willing to lend aid? If so, let us prepare and set out as soon as we've gathered our strength."
Composing himself after that outburst, he'd nod to Borealis and Raed. "Unfortunately, you and the taller Miss are correct. As it stands, our numbers would do little against large waves of enemies. We would have to avoid them entirely or commit to long-term guerilla tactics."
"Were it as simple as taking the few days' travel - er, probably two weeks on foot - directly to the beast, I would disagree. With the right maneuvers and the assistance of those magic items, it would absolutely be doable."
Whether any of the six survived the ordeal was the real question, and one he tactfully kept to himself.
Kekoa paused, considering the last time. It was an unlikely band then, too. Small. Only a handful of dedicated fighters - the rest had learned along the way... He had only been brought on for his healing abilities and the fact that his voice could rally folk across broad distances. He hadn't been a fighter and yet fight he did. Had to, to defend the people he cared for.
And here they were, trying to do the same with considerably fewer people. He didn't like those odds any more than the rest of them.
"Fortunately, there were agreements made after its magics were sealed. Those whose lands and families it threatened, they offered people in the event that the seals failed. As many folk as they could muster, and 'champions' to lead them." He sighed, steeling himself to vocalize the next part. "Unfortunately, since then three of those kingdoms have dissolved or splintered into tens of fiefdoms, and those intact will be reluctant to honor such old words. Especially with their numbers dwindled and the threat of outside forces moving in."
He fluffed and flapped his wings, then smoothed the feathers with his beak, momentarily lost in thought. This he did three times before he focused on the creatures gathered before him.
"The agreements - oaths, truly - were formed of an old magic. Even the descendants of those who spoke the Words would have to honor them if invoked, or forfeit everything they hold dear. I... must admit, I am reluctant to invoke them, even now. It will, however, be easier for us to reach our goal with even a small army behind us. And I would much rather increase our odds of success than go immediately to our enemy and leave the outcome to chance." Or otherwise tempt Fate....
Surely some of the people who remained were warriors? Or could train the able-bodied to fight? The six here certainly wouldn't have time to do all of that themselves.
What terrible odds they had stacked against them.
Another sigh, then his determined bearing returned. "Knowing all this, I must ask once more: are you willing to lend aid? If so, let us prepare and set out as soon as we've gathered our strength."
Talk of old treaties and magic strong enough to bind them, even after all these years? It saw Raed scowl and cross her arms. Things must have been real desperate for anyone to have agreed to terms like that, and whoever had wrote them was some special kind of vindictive.
Even so, contracts were contracts and if the signers weren't willing to honor them, they shouldn't have signed in the first place... Or should've wrote in some escape clause.
Raed sighed.
"Fine. I'm in. Anythin's better than sitting around waiting for the end. So... yeah. Hi, I'm Raed, and I'll be joinin' y'all on this grand quest."
With a gesture that looked so helpless coming from such a strong body, Raed indicated for the phoenix to lead the way.
Down below, the magic of this place hummed more vibrantly and the details of its original builders remained every bit as strong as the day they'd been crafted. Jiari and Rovirnan-looking carpets lined the walls and floors, Aulffar and Kulimi carvings coexisted with Kohlinic and Rovirnan paintings up and down the joists which were strongly of Kulimi make. Thick roots twined to form other things, like doorframes and light sources: Breloish design, to those who recognized such things. This whole mound seemed to have been a combined effort, harmonious in its execution and restful in aspect. Raed almost regretted having refused to pop down here for her nap.
The pheonix mostly walked, only fluttering through the air briefly here and there to get more quickly around corners. As he went, he pointed out sleeping quarters and kitchens (still stocked with edible food, surprisingly) and teaching the lock-songs for interested parties to gain entrance. But that all was done with haste while they made way to the armory.
Once opened, that chamber was slightly different: lit by glowing veins in the stone walls and cieling, carrying running themes of marigolds, lightning, fish-tailed beasts, and griffons, and full of pedestals and shelved alcoves, carrying all manner of equipment.
Raed found herself dazzled a moment. Everything in here was the stuff of stories. The thought of walking into an adventurers' inn wearing -- hell, carrying -- any of it? She fought the urge to giggle about it.
Then her eyes landed on a handsome brigandine. Leather stained a deep blue, studded on the outside, but reinforced with strips of metal behind. And it looked just her size! Without a second thought, she stripped off her coat, slipped out of her battered hauberk, and settled her new find over her dirty tunic. And though the fit wasn't quite perfect, it felt more and more right by the minute. She didn't even feel as tired anymore!
"That was dubbed the 'Thieves' Plate'," the phoenix offered, "affectionately, of course. Someone quick on their feet will find excellent use for it, and a clever wearer could even make use of spells turned against them."
Although mildly irritated by the name, Raed chuckled. "If it gives me an edge, I'll take it."
From there, the woman collected a pair of sturdier weapons (one sword, one club), a patterned strip of silk (which she used to replace her own aging hair tie), and a stone ring inlaid with bone. The former two made her feel pretty kickass, while the final had an air of mystery she couldn't resist.
She would have stopped there, if not for aimlessly tracing some of the floor mosaics. Her wandering brought her to a section full of those fish-tailed beasts and frogs, boats, rushes, and river scenes. When she looked up, one pedestal displayed a fancy, hooked dagger of similar theme, inlaid with hammered pearl and precious-looking shells. The sight made her scoff.
That jerk would have loved something as gaudy as this, she frowned, picking it up to get a closer look.
"So what's this one do--wOO?!"
The thing rippled at her touch, shedding its pearls and shells, and when it was finished it held a new shape. Plain gray metal, hilt twined with what looked like remnants of net. Straight blade, every bit as balanced as before, but fluted now in a design she recognized as being for throwing. It almost felt too light in her hand as she twirled it between her fingers...
When she looked away from it, she found the curious gaze of that phoenix on her once more. Before she could try to deflect blame, he hummed, "Odd."
At length, he continued. "That one has no name, and all I know of it was that its prior bearer swam with the strength of a seal. The Lake Court made it, though, so it should grant passage through their holds.... If you desire -- if any of you desire -- I can meditate on your items while you rest and perhaps give a better answer before we leave."
He bowed, then went to perch on a set of light mail, making himself available for questions and occasionally chiming in for the others when he thought it might be helpful.
Raed chewed her lip, inspecting the knife once more before tucking it into her boot. A seamless match to the hidden sheath she'd had stitched there ages ago. As its cool aura seeped through the leather, she couldn't help feel special. A little more heroic, even. Some magic mystery-knife had picked her to travel with.
Even if that's not at all how this worked, that's the story she'd tell from here on.
Even so, contracts were contracts and if the signers weren't willing to honor them, they shouldn't have signed in the first place... Or should've wrote in some escape clause.
Raed sighed.
"Fine. I'm in. Anythin's better than sitting around waiting for the end. So... yeah. Hi, I'm Raed, and I'll be joinin' y'all on this grand quest."
With a gesture that looked so helpless coming from such a strong body, Raed indicated for the phoenix to lead the way.
Down below, the magic of this place hummed more vibrantly and the details of its original builders remained every bit as strong as the day they'd been crafted. Jiari and Rovirnan-looking carpets lined the walls and floors, Aulffar and Kulimi carvings coexisted with Kohlinic and Rovirnan paintings up and down the joists which were strongly of Kulimi make. Thick roots twined to form other things, like doorframes and light sources: Breloish design, to those who recognized such things. This whole mound seemed to have been a combined effort, harmonious in its execution and restful in aspect. Raed almost regretted having refused to pop down here for her nap.
The pheonix mostly walked, only fluttering through the air briefly here and there to get more quickly around corners. As he went, he pointed out sleeping quarters and kitchens (still stocked with edible food, surprisingly) and teaching the lock-songs for interested parties to gain entrance. But that all was done with haste while they made way to the armory.
Once opened, that chamber was slightly different: lit by glowing veins in the stone walls and cieling, carrying running themes of marigolds, lightning, fish-tailed beasts, and griffons, and full of pedestals and shelved alcoves, carrying all manner of equipment.
Raed found herself dazzled a moment. Everything in here was the stuff of stories. The thought of walking into an adventurers' inn wearing -- hell, carrying -- any of it? She fought the urge to giggle about it.
Then her eyes landed on a handsome brigandine. Leather stained a deep blue, studded on the outside, but reinforced with strips of metal behind. And it looked just her size! Without a second thought, she stripped off her coat, slipped out of her battered hauberk, and settled her new find over her dirty tunic. And though the fit wasn't quite perfect, it felt more and more right by the minute. She didn't even feel as tired anymore!
"That was dubbed the 'Thieves' Plate'," the phoenix offered, "affectionately, of course. Someone quick on their feet will find excellent use for it, and a clever wearer could even make use of spells turned against them."
Although mildly irritated by the name, Raed chuckled. "If it gives me an edge, I'll take it."
From there, the woman collected a pair of sturdier weapons (one sword, one club), a patterned strip of silk (which she used to replace her own aging hair tie), and a stone ring inlaid with bone. The former two made her feel pretty kickass, while the final had an air of mystery she couldn't resist.
She would have stopped there, if not for aimlessly tracing some of the floor mosaics. Her wandering brought her to a section full of those fish-tailed beasts and frogs, boats, rushes, and river scenes. When she looked up, one pedestal displayed a fancy, hooked dagger of similar theme, inlaid with hammered pearl and precious-looking shells. The sight made her scoff.
That jerk would have loved something as gaudy as this, she frowned, picking it up to get a closer look.
"So what's this one do--wOO?!"
The thing rippled at her touch, shedding its pearls and shells, and when it was finished it held a new shape. Plain gray metal, hilt twined with what looked like remnants of net. Straight blade, every bit as balanced as before, but fluted now in a design she recognized as being for throwing. It almost felt too light in her hand as she twirled it between her fingers...
When she looked away from it, she found the curious gaze of that phoenix on her once more. Before she could try to deflect blame, he hummed, "Odd."
At length, he continued. "That one has no name, and all I know of it was that its prior bearer swam with the strength of a seal. The Lake Court made it, though, so it should grant passage through their holds.... If you desire -- if any of you desire -- I can meditate on your items while you rest and perhaps give a better answer before we leave."
He bowed, then went to perch on a set of light mail, making himself available for questions and occasionally chiming in for the others when he thought it might be helpful.
Raed chewed her lip, inspecting the knife once more before tucking it into her boot. A seamless match to the hidden sheath she'd had stitched there ages ago. As its cool aura seeped through the leather, she couldn't help feel special. A little more heroic, even. Some magic mystery-knife had picked her to travel with.
Even if that's not at all how this worked, that's the story she'd tell from here on.
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