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Fantasy Setting Summer Dawn

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Pyrrhus had a knowing smile ready for the inquisitor.
He threw the dwarf maid a roguish wink before making his way to Crow's side.
"Eishar, you forget one of the benefits of having a centaur as your sweetheart," his lilting voice teased, "If you don't mind it, I can carry you on my back. I solemnly swear you shall not fall."
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Emerging into the night was a welcome adjustment for the halfling elf, after far too long under tonnes of rock. This darkness was refreshing, and the air was crisp. Azaria reached out to touch a leaf, rubbing it gently between her thumb and her fingers. It was dewy and plump, unlike the foliage of the Lightlands. Nearby, Crow was in awe at his surroundings. Ora made a comment about the stars, and Azaria nodded in agreement, staring off into the woods. Something was coming. Many somethings. Her new bow found itself in her hands, an arrow readied.

"...What in the stars..." Azaria lowered her bow uncertainly as their mounts arrived. They seemed to be wild predators, with their sharp teeth, yet Desrick and Ora seemed to be fine, hauling themselves up onto the beasts' bare backs. She glanced at Lohrithe, who was trying not to make a face. The drow, it seemed, seemed almost as wary as the assassin.

"What are they?" Azaria asked, putting away her bow and carefully approaching one of the hooved creatures. They were beautiful, with their colours and their antlers. Instinctively, she bared her own elongated canines as the beast showed its teeth.
 
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In the dark, Falarion made out a figure approaching him and he mewled when Ora knelt down nearby. He sniffed at the air and recognized her voice when she spoke to him. He rushed forward, mewling a few more times until he right in front of her. He began purring, rubbing against her hand and then legs.

When Crispin approached and helped dry him off, Falarion continued to purr and flapped his wings a few times when Crispin pulled the now wet cloak away from him. Stretching, Falarion yawned and then meowed at the pair who had assisted him, seemingly thanking the two.

Ora mentioned stars to Crispin and Falarion perked at the word, his wide eyes staring up at her. He chirruped and then tilted his head to the side, as if he had understood her.

When he was returned to Leandra, Falarion meowed loudly and wriggled out of Ora's grasp, perching onto Leandra's shoulder while she profusely thanked Ora in kind. Leandra began scratching him underneath the chin and Falarion's purring picked up once more while his tail flicked back and forth behind him.

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Ora smiled softly at Leandra.
"He's not like any pet I've ever had, with the wings and all, but he's every bit as sweet." She had acknowledged all of his little noises with nods, as if she could understand exactly what he was trying to tell her. She couldn't, of course, but it was obvious the little creature was intelligent enough to mean something with all that noise, even if she didn't know exactly what words he would have used. And when he had squirmed with all his might to return to leandra, she had released him as quickly as was safe, as one should when returning a little thing to their chosen someone.
"It's a joy to have him along. You as well, of course, but I can't quite resist a tiny thing like him," She said with a chuckle, even as she was shifting impatiently. They needed to get everyone set with a mount and get a move on. As much as she enjoyed the small talk and wanted to get to know the mysterious tunnel-traveler, they could do that over a pint after all of this was over.

She glanced up, as Azaria spoke. The barely-tame animals were hauntingly beautiful, and just as dangerous.
Ora gave a shrug, and said, "Desrick called them Benruss stags earlier."
There was a twinkle in her eye as she added, "He requested them specifically."
 
The creatures were stubborn, but once Desrick pulled his own stag, the largest, into line the others began to follow.
They raced through the undergrowth, the beasts seeming to follow some trail, invisible in the dark, but very clear to them.
The marks seemed to stretch by and they didn't show any signs of even tiring.
Pyrrhus kept up, almost as nimble as the creatures the others rode. He lamented the fact that they were simply racing through all the beauty of Cyndara, but they had a destination, and not much time to get to it.

Twice they rested, but only for a few marks. The journey was hard and took them up hills and down into valleys, through the thickest parts of the forest until finally they came out onto what looked like a main road. It was wide and flat and as they raced past, a few travelers on it gave them shouts to slow down.
They crested a ridge and suddenly their vision filled with light:
Below them, nestled in the tall trees, sat a glittering city: Myst
The very tones used to build the houses and paths were infused with a pale, other-wordly light. It didn't shine so much as glowed, illuminating all things gently. There were squares and pavilions, canals that ran through the heart of the city. The roofs of each building were styled in curling edges, fashioned also out of the glowing stones. In every break in the rooftops there were statues that lined the streets, or stalls with shops or play areas for children. It looked like such a peaceful city. At the far end Desrick could see the garrison, a tall square building with a simple roof. He wondered if the queen had moved her forces yet, he prayed she hadn't.

They stopped at a large archway that lead into the city where guards were questioning the people waiting to enter. Desrick stopped just before it.
So they had gotten to Myst, but now the orc seemed at a loss. "I'm a nobody from one corner of Cyndara, I have no power here at all...how are we going to get an audience with the queen?"

Pyrrhus stretched his legs, feeling sore, but more or less all right. "Perhaps we could ask nicely?"

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Lohrithe managed to coax his steed forward to Desrick's side as they halted. The city was beautiful, yes, but it soon would not be if they hesitated. "You forget, dear Desrick, your newfound relationship to a certain member of the Council." The drow grinned and winked at his lover and pulled ahead to the guards.

"We come bearing urgent news for Her Highness under the authority of the Dark Peaks Council of the Drow. Let us through."
 
The journey was long, but Ora knew it was even longer than it felt. Their mounts were fast and sure, moving with surety through the wilds that amazed her. She couldn't help but agree with Pyrrhus- she wanted nothing more than to gaze about like she had the first time, but they had an agenda.
By the time they reached Myst, her body was starting to tire of the riding. But the sight of the city.. well, it was enough to chance any thought of weariness away. It was as bright as any city in Sumenna, but without the shadows that chilled those streets. The light bathed the city, infused in the very rock, touching every nook and niche. It looks like a place where nothing bad could every happen. Ora's eyebrows twitched toward each other for a heartbeat, when she remember that she had once felt that way about Dwerstand.

"Well, I suppose that might count as asking nicely," She said, watching the guards' reactions carefully. Would they be allowed through, with such obvious summerlanders with them? Now would be the time for heightened distrust- when they knew there was an army of summerlanders out for blood.
 
The city unveiled to the party possessed an exquisite, unparalleled beauty in the eyes of Crow. Perhaps it was a combination of the materials and the aesthetic, or maybe the inquisitor lusted for sights unknown to him. “This is Myst?” he breathed while steadily lowering himself from Pyrrhus’s side. “This is... gorgeous. The tales could not have prepared me.” His hand lingered as he glanced back to his more diplomatic friends at work.

The urgency of their business would surely not be lost on the gatekeepers. Still, Crow wondered if the presence of Sumennans would sway their decision. It all came down to the judgment of a small handful of guards. “I regret that I cannot do more at this moment,” he admitted to Ora. “If only one could readily tell the righteous from the nefarious and the honest from charlatans.” He tittered at his own wishes; such an ability would make inquisitors and other investigators wholly unnecessary.

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Desrick watched Lohr take the lead, hiding a grin and the deep feeling of pride. Pyrrhus nudged him with an elbow, smiling for him and nodding towards the drow. Desrick snorted and shoved him lightly for the jab.

The guards took notice immediately. Dark elves were rare at the best of times, even in Myst, and Lohr carried himself with such authority they seemed to respond on instinct.
"Well, it certainly got the job done." Crispin replied to Ora's remark. Nodding in approval. "I should hang about you noble types more often. Might learn a thing or two."
Pyrrhus stepped back to stand by Crow, overhearing his lament. “It would solve a great many problems, wouldn’t it? Though, I can’t help but feel it would also make things so terribly dull.” He added the final part with a roguish stamp of a hind hoof and flick of his tufted tail.

"You are the ones...who sent the message." A stout guard with a greying mustache stepped forward from the gates.

Crispin breathed a sigh of relief, knocking his forehead lightly with the heel of his palm. "Of course the message! The bird I used from the slopes of the mountain in Dwerstand. You got it!"
"We were informed to expect a party of your general description. The queen knows about you already."

The elder guard called for another guard. "Go inform the court." Then, looking back at the travelers he offered gently. "It will take some time for the court members to gather, but the guard was instructed to escort you to the palace in the meantime."
There were six guards in total, sent to bring them through the city. Spears and armour gleaming in the multi-coloured light from shops and lamps all around them. The city proper was tucked into a low valley, surrounded on all sides by sleepy dwellings from every race and culture Desrick could count. They were lead down a central pathway, stepped on both sides for foot traffic and smooth stone in the center for carts and mounts. The wide path was lined with lamps that looked more like they had been grown than made: twining, rooty, wood formed cages about the pale blue flames, which did not burn. Some of the denizens glowed just as brightly, with markings made of luminescent paint, set in intricate designs on their faces, legs and arms.

Oh that looks splendid.” Pyrrhus said happily. “I must try it later.

The soft sound of water babbled from crafted streams running down the hillside beside them. The water bounced down tiered pools, turned wheels and flooded into ornate water clocks set to keep the eternal march of time in the darklands. Looking about them, Desrick noticed the flags and brightly-coloured banners.

“Is there a festival going on?” The orc questioned one of their guards. “Now? With the attack coming?

To celebrate our fair city yes. I have no idea what you mean by an attack, but I suppose those are words for the court.

Desrick turned with concern to his companions. “They haven’t made the information public yet. I wonder if we should be concerned.

Crispin made a face. “Maybe we should have a plan, how we’re going to get them on our side if they’re not. I know they got the letter sure, but that doesn’t mean the queen believes us…I don’t have much authority, but, maybe with Lohr and a helpful boost from our Summerlanders, it might be enough to take us seriously.

((You can all feel free to make up some scenery or city things happening as they walk by. We’ll get a chance to explore the city later))

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Lohr, too, grew a frown when they learned the inhabitants of Myst were completely unaware of the danger coming for them. "You should know, at the very least," he told the guard who spoke to them, "that my people have evacuated our home and are headed this way for both refuge and resistance." That many dark elves above ground would otherwise call for alarm. "You must spread the word amongst your guards. There are children among them." Their living children were precious to his people, as so many of them died in the caves.
 
Ora made a small face, at the classification of "noble types." She knew Crispin meant it well, with humor, but she couldn't quite hid the distaste that "nobles types" brought up for her.
"Probably not all good things, " She said, managing to inject a good-enough amount of humor into it. Crow's remarks earned a soft hum in agreement, but she couldn't help but smile ruefully at Pyrrhus's concern about the lack of adventure it would bring to know everyone's true nature. She could do with less adventure, these days.
In any case, Lohr's approach worked, thanks to Crispin's messenger bird. They were soon being escorted to the palace, with a promise that the court would assemble shortly.. well, as shortly as they could manage.
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The city was a lively, colorful place. Ora caught sight of more than one shop that sold the same kind of ornamentations as the one on her horn. It slowed her for only a second- they just glimmered so in the lights all around.
If this is what it is like in wartime, how wonderful it must be-
Her thought was cut short by Desrick questioning the guard if there was a festival happening. She couldn't hide the shock on her expression when the guard said they had no idea about an attack.. and seemed utterly unconcerned about it.
She glanced around at the others, then at the guards flanking them. What exactly are we walking into? Why would the court entertain us, if they don't think the threat is real?

Ora looked over at Lohr, frowning in turn. The city would need to prepare for the refugees, even if they didn't want to prepare for war. If the guard didn't know about the traveling drow either.. she had a bad feeling.
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"What is the Queen and her court like? Are they.. generally reasonable?" Ora didn't love the phrase she had used, but couldn't think of another way to word it. She imagined them insisting no summerlanders could even reach the city, no one would have the audacity to attack Myst, the goddess would protect them.. any such arguments she had heard time and again in the royal courts of her childhood. For half a second, she wondered if another common reasoning- secret alliances- had anything to do with the lack of alarm in the city.
Surely, there was no way that Lassard's reach extends all the way to the Queen and her court already, there's no way he would even have access to them, she reasoned, dismissing it as paranoia.
"If they haven't raised the alarm yet, they could be waiting for proof. We could- do we still have the map, or did it get lost in the chaos?"
 
Azaria had a similar, unsettled feeling to Oralia's. She didn't like the current situation. All around her were peaceful, joyful citizens of Myst, completely unaware of their impending demise. Courts were rarely something to put one's trust in. She quickly shot both Ora and Iolas a discreet glance before slipping the guards, and quickly assimilating into the crowd. The assassin would find her own way into the palace. In case things went awry.

While keeping a close eye on her friends, the halfling elf took the opportunity to do some shopping... and eavesdropping. She listened for news of any of the attacks; she wanted to know just how secluded Myst's inhabitants were to the world outside their gates.
 
Iolas moved in line with the others, doing very little to draw attention to himself as was often the case whenever the number of Cyndarans increased. As he took in the environment there was no doubt that the natives would have an easier time enjoying the scenery with their natural adaptations to the environment; however, Iolas couldn't help but feel as if there was something special about appreciating the beauty and wonder of something you once disdained with your entire being. It was surreal; their happiness, their ignorance. It was as if the two joined in a midnight waltz that would go on for eternity if time gave it's blessing. Unlike Lohr, and some of the others who seemed taken a back by those who would keep their country in the dark, Iolas couldn't help but wonder. "If the world were to end tomorrow, would you truly want to know?"

He said it out loud, but it wasn't aimed at anyone in particular. Unlike the denizens who who painted this world with vibrant colors or passion, their group had stumbled across the truth and were tasked with carrying the burdens of that consequence. Even with this knowledge, and their willingness to defy fate, Iolas could not truly decide what was right, or wrong in this situation. If anything he found a small corner of envy welling up in the corners of his heart. Eventually, he suppressed it with a sigh. Yes, blissful ignorance was still ignorance. Perhaps there was no greater tragedy than living in a dream unaware of your frail reality. Iolas couldn't help but laugh. Such a fate was truly tempting, but in the end Iolas knew deep down he would rather struggle with a hard truth than be at peace with a lie. After ending his internal debate he made eye contact with Azaria, the corner of his mouth upturning ever so slightly so that only those who had journeyed with him would be able to notice. Seeing her take action only solidified his answer to his earlier self imposed question. They had a job to do as the ones entrusted with this burden. "Either way, proof will find them," Iolas said with a shrug of his shoulders in response to Ora's comment. "They can deal with it now, or later."

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The entire situation sent chills up Crow’s spine. “C-count me in,” he hesitated, scanning the designs in the glowing body paint. He tried to keep calm in the face of an all-out war, but it wasn’t easy.

Iolas’s comments on the matter made Crow’s stomach sink. He hastily—almost panickedly—retorted, “That is practically what we are trying to prevent, is it not?”

The palace grew closer, and with it, the number of spectacles increased. Performances, games, and commemorative murals not only had him yearning for better, more peaceful times, but also mustering the resolve to usher in such an era with his actions. While thinking of a plan with the others, a course of action Crispin wisely suggested, the inquisitor pursed his lips. Some of their findings at the masquerade ball were locked away in the Grand Inquisitor’s maximum-security vault until needed. ‘They are needed now, father,’ he thought. “I think the queen will want more than a mere story, even though we just evaded a literal army hours ago. Let us pool our resources and send forth our most compelling speakers. I volunteer; as one who has intercepted and read Lassard’s messages, you may need my memory.”

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It wasn't lost of Ora that Azaria was slipping away to join the crowds- she did her best not to look directly at her while she did, lest the guards follow her gaze. Maybe she would find out something useful, but the half-dwarf doubted it. What could be overhead, if no one knew anything about it?
Ora glanced over at Iolas at his musing, silent for the moment as Crow spoke up again. The inquisitor appeared shaken, far more shaken than the rest of them. Was it the stark difference between where they had come from, and where they were, that was setting him on edge? Surely it wasn't the violence- they had seen violence, plenty of it by now.
Ora frowned a little. It's not the first time the general public has been kept unaware of life-altering events. And I'm certain it won't be the last.
Moving her eyes from Crow slowly, she muttered, "I suppose it depends on if I could do something about it- which feels like it has yet to be determined."

She glanced between the Cyndarans, trying to gauge their reactions to her question. And to Iolas's. Everyone was shaken, she couldn't disregard that. And the sights and sounds were distracting, enticing- enough to lull anyone into a blissful ignorance. But conversations about what one would want at the end of the world were far more entertaining when you weren't looking at the very event. So she didn't want to press the issue.
Instead, she answered Crow calmly.
"That's likely a good idea, if they won't let us go all together. Crow, to speak on Lassard's messages. Myself, to speak on his plan in Dwerstand. We'll probably have to explain the.. dark crystal, too, and the images in the caves. Definitely at least one more, yes? Someone else, who knows more than we do about the crystals taken from here..." Ora trailed off, glancing about the group pointedly.
 
"Desrick and Iolas should go, as well." He put a pale hand on Desrick's large shoulder. "You know our people best. And Iolas, well... I do believe you would be best at driving home the ruthlessness of the Summerland elves. High elves? Is that what they are called? I've lost track." Lohrithe shook his head. It had been an exhausting adventure, indeed. Truth be told, the dark elf was uncomfortable with the whole situation. His people were in danger, and he knew exactly what the city guards would think if they arrived unannounced, armed, in a swarm. It would be a bloodbath. If he was stuck inside the palace with the Myst Queen, he could not protect them.

It was then that he noticed the halfling elf, their volatile assassin, was missing. His heart dropped into his stomach, and his face would have paled if it could. He turned his gaze to Iolas, who seemed perfectly unbothered as always, and promptly sighed that bit of stress away. If anyone had noticed her missing, it would be his lightland brother.

As they neared the palace, Lohrithe couldn't bring himself to look around in awe. He had never been to Myst. The drow kept quiet, letting the others do the talking for now, while he worried for his people.
 
"They will admit us all." Desrick said firmly, putting a hand over Lohr's as he felt the touch on his broad shoulder.
When they arrived at the outer gates of the palace however, they were shut up tight. The gates were wood, gnarled and covered with vines, as if they had been grown and not made.

"Well, it looks like we might be waiting a moment." Pyrrhus said with an impatient stamp of a back hoof.
"We beg your pardon," one of the guards offered. "But the council has not yet assembled. I've been instructed to show you to the central square so you may explore the festival if you like, or, if you prefer rest, we can escort you to the palace gardens."

Desrick looked to the others. He knew they had been riding hard for days, but moving about the city and gleaning information might help them in their meeting.
"I'd like to look around." Desrick told them. "But if you need rest then take it."

Crispin looked at his brother in utter dismay. "I suppose...poking around town might be a benefit..." He glanced at Ora, hoping to read her will before he made a decision.

"Well I for one would be delighted to explore." Pyrrhus seemed rejuvenated by the idea. He unslung his lute and began to tune it with enthusiasm, most certainly planning to join the first set of musicians he found.

"The council will likely be assembled in one mark. Until then, we would come with you."
Pyrrhus made a face. "Ah, I suppose it makes sense that we'd have minders. If you insist."

They made ready to go when suddenly, Pyrrhus had an idea.
"Surely Cynabrynde would be on our side? Perhaps we should bay them invoke our dear goddess for the truth?"

Desrick thought back to when they had first brought summerlanders into the town of Delan. They had had to pass the test of the goddess before they would be trusted.

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Lohrithe nodded at the centaur's suggestion, and looked to the great green orc. "Pyrrhus has a point. If the elves of Delan can do it, the Myst Court should be able to, as well.

The drow turned his gaze towards the palace, and the guards. "Surely there is a way to hasten these procedures?"

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Further off, Azaria traded for small items, using the busy market as a cover as she scanned the palace walls for weak points. A back door here, a vent there... Bioluminescent vines created a lattice she was certain she could scale if need be.

The assassin halfling tucked a little trinket she had just purchased into a pocket and moved on, keeping an eye on her fellow travelers.
 
There were a lot of unsure, darting glances between the lot of them. Especially when offered rest, or exploring the city.
Ora couldn't help picture herself sinking onto a bunch, surrounded by unfamiliar but beautiful sight, the noise of the city dampened by the walls and the leaves and...

Pyrrhus's tuning brought her back tot he present. The other were right, they should go have a look around, see what the public was thinking and talking about at the moment. Maybe figure out what this festival was for, exactly. Or at least, how angry the people would be if it were per-emptively canceled on the word of a rag-tag bunch of outsiders.
She turned her face part-way to Crispin and gave a small nod that yes, she would come along into the city.

As they began their jaunt, the centaur spoke up again, and for some reason, Ora got a chill down her spine.
"You betray yourself to think your intentions will be judged harshly. Be as honest with your own heart as you are with others, and you may find more peace. You may stay, and learn to see truth."
That was a lifetime ago. Before the tunnels, before the ball, before Burgren.
Ora glanced over at Desrick, wondering if he remembered. Well, not really, because of course he did. But did he feel, suddenly, how horribly distant and frighteningly close that time was to now?
Her eyes moved over to Lohr. Did he feel how much they had changed since then?
Finally, back to Crispin. Did he realize that the time frame in question, contained almost every minute they had known each other?

Ora cleared her throat, and glanced about the larger group. She tried to shake.. whatever the mood that had settled over her was by speaking.
"If I remember, that was a judgement on our character, not on the hard truth of our claims. Does it work that way?"
Of course she remembered, but it felt uncomfortable to admit how vividly.
 

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