Fantasy CRG: In Search of the Legendary Trudine

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KASKAE KUNIK

just a curious speck
that got caught up in orbit

There was something about the traditions of the Copper Raven Guild that elevated it above just a menial club. It was older, more distinguished than a simple explorer's get-together. Having offered countless discoveries in the name of science and knowledge, it was officially recognized by all five nations. In fact, in the case of a successful Venture, all participants of said Venture would have a private audience with the monarch hosting the Gathering that year.

This year's Venture seemed rather simple on paper: find and study the Legendary Trudine. What the party would find, however, was that such a task was not so easily undertaken.

~~~​

It was the smell of new letters. Kaskae closed her eyes of ink to inhale the scent of the paper she held. Beneath her thumb, she could feel the golden scrolls that decorated the edges, along with the outline of the raven that sat at the top. She was walking away from that small, dark room where her life’s dream had become a reality, walking into the new adventure that was just hours away. It still felt lucid and incorporeal, as if it was simply an illusion and nothing more.

Feeling the tip of her boot knock against something, Kaskae opened her eyes and found herself almost plastered against a large wooden door. She had been given instructions to come here and meet with the other winners, where they would hopefully be given more information and perhaps a little guidance. She did, of course, know that their destination would ultimately be Jaspen Island. In a way, she was almost homesick. It had taken her some time to travel the whole way down to Orilon from Nornesse, and now she would be traveling even further away. But it was all in the name of discovery, right?

Folding the paper and tucking it into her belt, the stonemason placed a hand on the silver-colored door handle, shivering at the cold metal before pushing it open. Her lips opened in wonder as the door swung open, revealing the intricate interior that was the inner chambers of the board of Official Adventurers. The symbol of the Copper Ravens was plastered everywhere, from the gold-tinted swirls on the walls to the backs of the chairs that surrounded the circular table in the center. Kaskae felt somewhat out of place, and her hand crept up to her cloak collar, where she rubbed the now-tarnished but still copper-colored raven pin that was stuck there.

It seemed she was the first. Surprising, since she always seemed to be late, but a reassurance. Kaskae supposed she ought to simply wait, seeing as one of the Official Adventurers would be coming to “debrief” them, as it were. So, she walked further into the room, the sound of her footsteps somewhat magnified by the smooth marble floors. Taking the pack that was hanging from her shoulder, Kaskae set it on a chair and walked to a set of rather large windows, which sprawled from the ceiling down to the floor.The panes of glass were meticulously polished and allowed Kaskae an unhindered view of Orilon below her.

To be fair, the glistening hall of the Copper Ravens was a bit out of place from the delicate wooden and often rustic buildings of Orilon, but it and the Great Library were often seen as the glimmering jewels in a simple crown. Kaskae had been here only twice before, not finding it possible to separate from her work until she was sure she had set up a permanent position as a stonemason.

Today, besides being a gathering of adventurers across Tecc, was also the first day of autumn, and so the Feast of Color. Kaskae could see bright banners spanning from rooftop to rooftop, along with lanterns that bobbed in the tree branches, casting a warm yellow light as dusk began to slowly settle. Tonight would be a time of feastin; Kaskae had decided that she would walk about the city after this meeting and view the art that would be put out. She had also heard news of a bonfire in the center of the city, which she hoped would be like something back home.

Kaskae put a hand against the window, her forehead brushing against the glass as she took in the multitude of colors below. Her heart was still fluttering, and her breath had refused to stop coming in short. She was beyond excited - the butterflies in her stomach had evolved into great eagles. But she wasn’t nervous or frightened; no, she felt she could soar.

template by astraea ∙ beware hidden scrolling

mourning star Gallus D U H The Pattern Night-Hawk ​

 

[Night-Hawk]

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Azari Saloris

Location: Orilon, Nyqira | Interacting with: N/A | Mentions: boo.

Through the bustling streets of Orilon and up a flight of ornate stairs that gradually curved around the mighty trunk of an aged tree, a hooded figure walked with a purposeful gait, his dark cloak flowing languidly behind him; while a soft rattle of the sword sheathed on his hip punctuated every step.

Within a moment he reached the top landing, and here he drifted back over towards the rail, regarding the scenery that laid below his current level. It was still quite alive despite the approach of dusk, and if anything, it seemed the delicate city was becoming all the more active with each deepening shade of the sky; like fireflies emerging from their slumber to claim the night. And placing his hands atop the smooth wood of the railing, Azari exhaled a breath into the cooling air, his velvety brown graze drifting over the people that were setting up for the Feast of Color.

Booths had been erected throughout to display all kinds of artistic work, from paintings to pottery and the like; while vibrant banners were strung, and lanterns were lit in so many places that they seemed as if the sky’s blanket had lowered to the treetops and draped them in ethereal pinpoints of light. It was admittedly beautiful, magical even — and Azari used that term sparingly. Yet he hadn't come here to enjoy the view.

So with another sigh, the young man pushed away from the overlook and continued on his way, boots thudding the freshly swept boards. He adjusted the knapsack slung on one shoulder beneath his cloak, its lightened weight telling him he’d need to acquire more supplies before departing for his Venture. And though he suspected the others in the party would most likely need to do so, as well, they were all pretty much out of luck until tomorrow morning, he discovered. Any shop or vendor that was open tonight was catering purely to the useless or artistic — save for the culinary treats that would still aptly quell hunger no matter their more decorative flair.

Moreover, all the flux of visitors had made finding sleeping accommodations a nightmare. The mere thought had him scowling beneath the shadows of his covering once again. Azari had tried several places, however they’d all been full up due the Feast, and he had no time left to waste trying. He knew he should’ve arrived sooner to avoid this little problem, but the delay had been a calculated risk. Because although steering clear of Onryx and making the extra trek around to pass through Apani instead had been inconvenient, Azari had preferred that over bumping into certain persons that he may or may not have double-crossed at one point. Heh… The life of a mercenary was never dull. Naturally, it was not as cut and dry as it sounded, yet he chose not to dwell on the matter, and left those thoughts behind somewhere between archways and staircases.

He’d figure out where he’d sleep later. Right now, his focus shifted to the building that was his destination when it finally came into view, and his heart skipped a beat. Azari had memorized the instructions in his letter until the words were etched behind his eyelids, and this was definitely the place. So nearing the door without hesitation, he pushed it open and slipped into the grand room beyond, the click of the latch as it closed in his wake reverberating through the lofty space. He’d seen many places, from castles to ruins, but this one held a certain energy that could not be described, and he let out a low whistle as he spun in a lazy circle, peering up and around. Then dropping his gaze, it swept over the round table and chairs that stood in the room, before pausing on a bag. Truthfully Azari was tempted to peek inside it, and probably would have, if he hadn’t noticed the possible owner standing by a wall of towering windows.

code by Ri.a

 

[mourning star]

[div class="heading"]Naveena Alys Kavanagh ~

The general sound of conversation flowed through the air, the vendors of the small marketplace making merry with their customers. An assortment of artwork was being presented, varying from seller to seller. Amongst it all, a young redhead passed by, hurrying past each stall with a determined expression. Naveena kept her head down, emerald eyes wavering between her feet and certain displays that caught her eye. She had been tempted to stop and admire a painting or a bust nearly a dozen times, unaccustomed to all the color that surrounded her. It took a lot of her willpower to keep herself walking, her hand clenching harshly against the handle of her satchel.




Celebrations such as these had not existed in the village she lived in. The customs of their land had rarely enthralled the withered farmers, more keen to keep to themselves than humor the concept of holding a festival. Her travels had made her more accustomed to these sights, although she had yet to be in a major city during one of the holidays. It had been a shock to her system when she had stumbled out of the stable she had slept in, only to be greeted with the bombardment of colors around her. Never had she imagined such shades, accustomed to the sight of the bland greens and browns from her youth.




Whatever the case, she didn’t have time to falter. She had a specific destination in mind, one that she refused to be late to. It took her only moments to clear the market, wandering into a square where dozens of people had crowded themselves into. Her determination quickly withered away, catching her off guard as she suddenly stopped in her tracks. Someone bumped into her back- an older man who let loose a muffled curse and skirted around her form. Her apology came too late, drowned out by the musicians near one of the taverns. There was a small group of dancers stepping there, several couples that had managed to draw a smaller crowd from the massive onslaught of people.




Breathing a shallow breath through her nose, she continued on her way. It was easy to skirt around the cluster of people, keeping herself pressed mostly to the edges of the crowd. In a matter of minutes, she had cleared the square and was on her way once more. Her shoulders finally loosened, the swell of anxiety in her gut eased. Her gaze drifted skywards, considering the setting sun and the weakened rays that stretched endlessly across the skies. It was a marvelous sunset, she decided. Another person bumped into her side, immediately snapping her back to reality. Her gaze settled back on the ground, both her hands wrapped around her satchel protectively. It was one of the only things she carried with her, asides from the bow and quiver that was slung across her back.




After what felt like an eternity of walking, Naveena eventually reached her destination. The huge doors of the building stood out to her, seeming to beckon her closer. She sharply inhaled, followed by a heavy sigh that caused her shoulders to sag. Gone was the tension, although her apprehension still caused her heart to race in her chest. The staccato rhythm pulsed silently in her veins, quickly traversing up to her eardrums as the heart rate increased. The feeling gave her pause, gathering her courage to open the door. Taking another steady breath, she squeezed her eyes shut. Her hand shot out for the handle, twisting until she heard the familiar click of the mechanism opening.




She took several steps past the threshold, her gaze settling on the table in the center of the room. Immediately, she was hit with the urge to turn back around and run out the door. Her hand slipped from the knob, causing the door to slip back and shut with more force than anticipated. It was easy to see how she winced, her gaze drifting over the other two inhabitants in the room. They both seemed older than her, a confidence in their forms that spoke of experience. Well aware that she lacked both of those things, Naveena quietly made a beeline for the table, settling herself in the chair farthest away from the door. She kept her feet glued to the tile, unwilling to curl into herself and ignore those around her. Biting her lip, she sent a wavering glance when the silence continued to drag on. Steeling her resolve, she plastered an unsure smile on her lips as she addressed her other two companions.



“It’s beautiful outside, isn’t it?” The way her voice warbled was disastrous, although she cleared her throat and pressed on, "I've never really seen anything like it. We don't celebrate like this where I come from- not my village, at least."

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code// just-peachy!

 

[ichorus]

Shaian Amun
i'm asking for myself​

boo. Night-Hawk mourning star ​

Shaian was glad to have already been in Orilon when he got the letter. If he'd still been stuck in the archives of Airedale, he would have missed the meeting by weeks. Trying to get anything in order in that city during the Feast of Color was near impossible. As it was, though, all he'd had to do was arrange his leave with the Great Library and head out.

Shouldering his knapsack on, he set a brisk pace as he made his way through the streets. He had mistimed when to make his exit, forgetting that the beginning of the festivities would result in more foot traffic and less space to move around. Hopefully, the Guild had taken that into account where he hadn't and expected the meeting to begin later than the prescribed hour. Starting off the Venture drastically late would afford him no favors.

Through the whirl of color all around him, Shaian would spot the occasional familiar figure or art piece from Airedale and he had to force himself to not slow down to greet a friend. Whenever he allowed himself a wave and grabbed their attention, he had to shrug apologetically at them when they made their way towards him. He noted down who he'd have to find for a brief conversation before he left the city.

He slowed down into a leisurely stroll as he approached the hall doors to pat the dust off his clothes and tidy his unruly hair with a smooth brush of his fingers before opening the door. With a serene smile, he slid through the entrance, cataloging the contents of the room - woman at the windows, man by the table, woman sitting down - with a quick skim before leaning casually against the wall next to the windows. He wasn't late after all, he thought as he settled himself into a comfortable pose on top of a particular grand swirl of gold.

The woman next to him was gazing out at Orilon with - from what he could make out from her side profile - a sparkle in her eyes.

Shaian couldn't figure out if it was the celebrations or the adventure that had her so excited that he could practically feel the energy coming off her skin. He asked her, "Never celebrated the Feast before?"

code by pasta ​

 

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KASKAE KUNIK

just a curious speck
that got caught up in orbit

Saspa was known for its long and hearty celebrations, but this was a whole new level of festival. Kaska could barely take it all in for the sheer amount of everything going on. There were sights, smell, and sounds she had never experienced before. This was something totally foreign and amazing. But Kaska knew she wouldn't be alone for long.

In fact, the stonemason was more right than she imagined. She heard a whistle behind her; looking over her shoulder, she could see that a man had entered behind her. A fellow Saspian? Could have been, but Kaska didn't want to be rude. He seemed just as amazed as she was, but a bit more reserved. Not sure how to introduce herself, Kaska was still for a moment, as if she was a deer caught by a light, but some of the tension was released as another person entered. She seemed timid, the red-head, and she was quick to make her way to a chair. Again, before Kaska could make an attempt at any sort of introduction, the girl spoke up, which surprised her.

“It’s beautiful outside, isn’t it? I've never really seen anything like it. We don't celebrate like this where I come from - not my village, at least."

Kaska felt a sort of slim smile come to her lips. That sounded familiar.

"I won't say Nornesse doesn't celebrate - we certainly do - but it's not so... vibrant."

Turning back to the window, Kaska was just in time to see a flurry of multicolored kits fluttering past and winding into the sky. Grinning widely, Kaska pressed her face against the glass and watched them soar into the air, tethered by thin, almost invisible strings that were held by children in the streets below. Now those were things she had certainly never seen in her home city - the winds in the Norn Mountains were too fierce for any sort of aerial arts.

Yet another adventurer entered, placing himself beside Kaska. He seemed a bit more confident, making an assumption on her personality.

"Never celebrated the Feast before?"

"Not like this." Kaska grinned again, turning to lean against the window lightly. "I'm used to more... delicate, solemn arts. Like stone and metal work."

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[Night-Hawk]

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Silence reigned as the first two Copper Raven arrivals discovered one another, but instead of exchanging introductions, they just stared like a couple of awkward pigeons. Azari nearly laughed at the expression being displayed on the young woman's face, but he suspected his own had waxed rather humorous, as well. It’s just that he hadn’t expected to see another Saspian in this Venture — and this development caused a mixture of conflicting feelings to knit themselves inside his gut. It had been some time since he’d been in his homeland, and the thoughts that attempted to dredge up were not ones he wished to ponder.

Thankfully, however, the uncomfortable stillness was broken. It seemed fairly safe to say no one would be sneaking into the Copper Ravens’ hall — at least not by the door, anyway. For the hefty piece of carved lumber served as an effective announcement to newcomers, and that announcement traveled into the farthest nooks and crannies of the room; even vibrating the floor beneath Azari’s feet. He turned away from his fellow Saspian at this, and found another young woman that was quite small compared to his stature looking back at him.

But again, silence dominated the room as she said not a word — so neither did he. And as she proceeded to a chair, the male watched in curious silence, already taking inventory of her, his dark gaze nonchalantly scrutinizing every detail: from the bow and quiver on her back, to the scar along her eye, her tanned complexion, clutched satchel, earth-toned robes, and clear nervousness.

Azari supposed he couldn’t blame her for being mousy. Today, or rather tonight was a momentous occasion.

“It’s beautiful outside, isn’t it? I've never really seen anything like it. We don't celebrate like this where I come from- not my village, at least."

Apparently she wasn’t nervous enough to refrain from speaking, although the tremor in her words did not go unnoticed. Still, her apparent innocence reminded the mercenary of someone, and Azari pushed his hood back completely and offered a debonair smile as he sauntered closer to the table, his own response pausing on his tongue as the other Saspian answered first.

"I won't say Nornesse doesn't celebrate - we certainly do - but it's not so... vibrant."

Ah, so she was from Nornesse. Azari had been there many times, but personally did not hail from that underground stronghold himself. It was a neighbor to his birthplace, though.

“The Feast of Color is aptly named,” he hummed at last, his knapsack sliding off his shoulder as he reached a chair near the unsure female. Yet before he could take a seat, the sizable doors opened once again to admit a fourth individual. Azari spared the newcomer, who appeared to be from Kel, an appraising glance, his peripherals following the other all the way to the window even while lowering into his chosen seat. Then settling his bag under the table between his feet, Azari leaned his forearms atop the polished surface, a brief sidelong look cast to the conversing pair.

"Never celebrated the Feast before?"

"Not like this. I'm used to more... delicate, solemn arts. Like stone and metal work."

The Saspian male had little qualms in chiming in.

“And Saspa has plenty of that.” Azari remarked with a light wave of his gloved hand. “Lots of whites and grays. And snow. Lots and lots of snow.” The corner of his lips twitched downwards, but he shook his head, flinging the displeasure away, and turned his attention to the quiet red-head. She really needed to loosen up, he thought to himself.

“So, did you happen to get your portrait drawn for the festival?” he asked, a lilting charm taking up residence in his accented voice. “Because I imagine your face would be highly favored among those seeking beauty.”

Azari Saloris

boo.
mourning star
ichorus

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coded by myfanwy

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[mourning star]

[div class="heading"]Naveena Alys Kavanagh ~

Settling against into the fine upholstery of her chair, Naveena glanced between the other occupants of the room. Movement caught her eye, causing her to turn and regard the man standing near the table. She watched as he removed his hood, dark locks spilling past his shoulders as the material fell away. She was ill-equipped for the grin he sent her way. A feminine voice served as a welcome distraction, allowing her to glance in the direction of the woman near the window.



"I won't say Nornesse doesn't celebrate - we certainly do - but it's not so... vibrant."



Naveena quirked a brow in response, intrigued. Before she could gather herself to respond, the other woman was already turning her gaze back to the scenery below. Faltering slightly, Naveena allowed silence to settle once more. It didn’t take long before another voice broke the still air. Her gaze flickered upwards, forcing her to crane her neck to glance at the older male. His wry humor earned him a quiet huff of laughter from the young redhead, shyly turning her gaze to the table as he approached one of the chairs closest to her.




The click of the door handle caught her attention, glancing up in time to watch another man stride through the threshold. She eyed him as he approached the windows, barely sparing her or the man near her a glance. Her mouth twitched down into a thoughtful frown, green eyes flickering between the two figures across the room. Her attention quickly shifted, glancing over the guild emblems that littered the building. It aided in distracting her, the twisted knot of nerves in her stomach easing.




For a time, she was lost in her own thoughts. She didn’t register the conversation near the windows, drowning out the voices as she pondered what the evening held in store for their little group. However, the sudden feeling of eyes on her made her shift, brows furrowed. Her head tipped to the side, emerald eyes meeting the gaze of the man who was seated near her. She was unsure why he was staring, her fingers clenching as she attempted to school her expression.




All her attempts to seem collected wavered when he spoke next, his tone teasing and soft. A swift blush claimed her cheeks, leaving her to blink owlishly at him for a moment. Unbidden, an embarrassed laugh escaped her. She couldn't fight the urge to duck her head, fidgeting in her seat under his gaze.



“That’s sweet of you to say,” She began feebly, ignoring her embarrassment to shoot him a curious glance, “Although, I doubt many people find young women with scars and a layer of dirt from traveling the epitome of beauty.”

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code// just-peachy!

 

[ichorus]

Shaian Amun
i'm asking for myself​

boo. Night-Hawk mourning star ​

When the woman answered him, Shaian turned to look at her only to see the slight fogging of the glass and not much else of her expression. Maybe when he knew her better, he could ask her to let him examine her hands and examine the callus buildup from that kind of work. He'd always wanted to see the difference between craftspeople's hands and warriors' hands, but his scholarly work left him little chance to find people who'd let a stranger fondle their palms.

Keeping the smile on his face light, he said, "Ah, this may be a good opportunity then. Artisan or not, I've seen the Feast to be an educational experience for those in your occupation."

Shaian turned his gaze on to the other occupants as they conversed. He lifted his hand to his mouth as he stifled a laugh at seeing them interact and could only imagine what their ensuing travels would be like. To think that they would likely never have encountered each other in their lifetimes, but here they were instead.

"I'm Shaian, a scholar," he told the adventurer next to him. Though he had pitched his voice lower so as to not intrude on the other conversation, he was still loud enough for everyone to hear him in the quiet meeting room. Louder, he asked the room at large, "Do you know if we're all gathered or are we waiting for more?"

code by pasta ​

 

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KASKAE KUNIK

just a curious speck
that got caught up in orbit

Kaska almost scoffed at her fellow Saspian's remark, but grinned ruefully. He was right - the vibrancy of Saspa seemed limited to a certain spectrum, but that didn't mean it wasn't glorious. The sheer magnificence of Nornesse, for example, was brought magnified by the size of the mountain fortress, as well as the solemnity of traditions carried out there. Newcomers were often overwhelmed by the twisting passages and caverns that looked the same to the untrained eye. But to Kaska, it was her home. She had been born there, she worked there, and she hoped one day to die there as well. But of course, she planned to have plenty of adventures along the way.

The Kellian introduced himself as Shaian, and informed Kaska that he was a scholar. That was a profession Kaska had never been intelligent enough to pursue - at least, in her opinion. She had never exactly loved her studies as a child, and had reserved herself to things she could touch and mold, rather than things that remained in one's mind. And yet, those who chased a life of higher learning and thinking were intriguing. What could they know what Kaska did not? Did the learned people, who often spent their days in dusty halls, curled between fading scrolls and yellowed paper, know the exhilaration of standing in the first gales of winter? Had they ever felt the joy of cradling their first, rudely carved sculpture, or experienced the thrill of shield surfing down the sheer crevices of a hidden mountain pass?

Ah, perhaps it was too far beyond Kaska. She was content with a simpler life, and would leave the complicating thinking to scholars, like Akari.

"Do you know if we're all gathered, or are we waiting for more?"

Kaska shook her head. "I was not told the number in our Venture, although I imagine-"

The words of the stonemason were broken off as the door opened once more, this time allowing the entrance of an esteemed looking lady. She was regal in her older age, the wrinkles on her face having been won with experience. Her presence seemed to call for silence, so Kaska did not pick up her statement. She rather watched the lady pace to the table, where she paused behind a tall-backed chair and motioned to the other seats.

"Please sit; we have much to discuss."

As Kaska made her way to the chair that held her bag, she studied the robes of the lady, which shimmered with bright thread. It was constructed with blocks of bright red and blue, with green and gold accents bordering. As Kaska looked closer, she could see small ravens flitting in and out of the weave, any movement the lady made making them appear to flit about. She was clearly a Hythian, as per her strong facial structure, proud posture, and bronzed skin. Her jet-black hair, which was striped with grey, was braided and hung down her back like a tassel.

Finally taking a seat, the lady folded her hands on the table and looked across those gathered, her gaze seeming to penetrate each Guild member like the Holy Light itself. She cleared her throat, tilting her chin slightly upward before speaking in her smooth, accented tone:

"On behalf of the Copper Ravens Guild, I congratulate each of you on winning this year's primary Venture. I am Muneera, and I have been chosen from among my fellow Official Adventurers to present you with your task proper.

"You are to find and study the Legendary Trudine, a beast shrouded by mystery that is said to dwell on Jaspen Island. We cannot confirm that any danger is to be expected, but as always, the Guild will not be responsible for injury, maiming, and possible death for the duration of the Venture. Your safety is your own concern; prepare accordingly."

Kaska supposed this was a routine spiel, but she felt a shiver run down her spine at the mention of violence. She had weaponry; she was an experienced hunter, but to even consider that the Trudine could hurt anyone? It was horrifying.

"The Guild has made preparations for your departure. On the second dawn from tomorrow, you will gather at the Northcrest Wharf, where The Spear will transport you in a day's journey to Jaspen Island. That gives you all two full days to prepare. A few day's provisions have been generously supplied by the Guild, but you are expected to bring your own gear. It is your duty to record all that you can about the Legendary Trudine and return safely to report all you can to the Guild. Should you return successful, your discoveries will be recorded and credited under your names.

"Failure, however, is always an option. We wish you all the best of luck in your search, but do not forget that a legend is sometimes just that: a legend. However you may return, you will be welcomed with open arms and cheerful hearts."

Muneera seemed finished, but hesitated for a moment. Some questioning look crossed her face for a moment before passing into a neutral expression.

"Any questions?"

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Night-Hawk - mourning star - ichorus ​

 

[Night-Hawk]

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Azari took the blossom of color that washed across the female’s cheeks as a symbol of triumph, and the soft laugh that proceeded to flutter past her lips was even more so, making his own pull into a light simper.

“That’s sweet of you to say. Although, I doubt many people find young women with scars and a layer of dirt from traveling the epitome of beauty.”

“Perhaps not,” Azari shrugged noncommittally. “But, it would be their loss.” he added, the suavity not abandoning his masculine timbre. “Personally I find scars to be far less unsightly blemishes and more of… testaments to character. They are medals from battles won, hardships overcome, and strength built from adversity. Or at least,” a gentle titter was woven into his sentence, “that’s how my mentor put it.”

Azari was tempted to pull out his sketchbook and trace the fine lines of this young woman’s face upon a sheet of parchment, yet refrained for two reasons. Firstly, this was no time for such frittering away; and secondly, he didn’t often perform his hobby in the company of strangers. Or anyone, for that matter. He may be charming and rather audacious now and again, but he was not an open person, nor did he trust others easily. Nevertheless.

“As for a layer of dirt,” the male continued while tugging at the material covering his right hand with his left. “I think being unafraid to get a little dusty for the sake of an adventure isn’t such a bad quality.” he peeled the glove from his skin, revealing a scar on the back of his hand, which coincided with another in the near center of his palm as he loosed his calloused digits. Then extending the appendage, he offered it to the red-head.

“The name’s Azari.” An introduction was made at last. He didn’t feel he owed anyone such a gesture, but something about this bright-eyed young woman brought out the chivalrous fellow in him. He decided not to fight against it.

Soon enough, however, all conversation was interrupted by the addition of a dignified woman in their midst, and it was clear she had not come to join the Venture. Just by the palpable hush that fell across the room with her enigmatic presence alone, as if she carried the power over noise itself, made it evident she was someone of importance. And this stillness was pierced only by the click of her steps across the polished marble.

Azari eyed her calmly, though felt himself sitting perhaps a fraction straighter beneath her weighty gaze while squaring his shoulders. She carried herself like a queen; and something in him felt obligated to show at least a semblance of respect.

Except as she began her monologue, the young man relaxed once more, his fingers idly threading together on the table in front of him as he soaked in every possible aspect of the coming journey.

And the disclaimer came as no surprise — he’d expected danger on this Venture. If there was none, he’d seriously question it’s worth at all; as he believed nothing great was ever earned or accomplished without a struggle. Easy was boring. Anyone could do easy. That, wasn’t an adventure.

Not to mention Azari was not overly concerned about his safety. He’d been through enough in his life that he didn’t believe death to be all that frightening anymore — and, he was confident in his ability. The art of snowdance was as natural to him as breathing, and the twin broadswords that occupied a single scabbard on his hip were like extensions of his arms.

"Any questions?"

Azari cleared his throat at the prompting. Everything seemed duly laid out to him, from time of departure and the vessel they’d be taking, but there was a curiosity pressing upon his mind.

“I have a question,” he began evenly, licking his lips before delving right in. “What if we kill it? I mean, say this Trudine is less legendary and more hostile, and we end up having to defend ourselves. Is that a course of action that would be allowed, or is there some law over this? Because I don’t intend to come back to get arrested, if that’s the case.” a faint upward curl to his mouth punctuated his inquiry, the droll humor not lost in his final words.

Azari Saloris

boo.
mourning star
ichorus

​

coded by myfanwy

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