Fantasy Setting Summer Dawn

[Flutterby]

Ora looked up at Lohrithe, surprised to hear him speak to her. His eyes sent a chill down her spine, but it wasn't entirely unpleasant. The half-dwarf nodded slightly to acknowledge his statement. "I'm sure it will be fine. As long as we stay together.." She said softly, returning her gaze to in front of her. If they were all always together, no one dare attack, the skin-changer or otherwise.

After a moment of feeling uncomfortable, she said, "I heard Desrick call you Lohr, short for Lohrithe. I go by Ora, now. Short for Oralia. It's only fair that you know my name as well." The woman swallowed softly, and then offered him a reserved smile, one that hardly touched her eyes. Her gaze slid back to the iridescent fletchings attached to Desrick, her mind itching to know how he got it, but she held herself from asking. Something told her now was not the time, but she couldn't say what.

Ora spoke again, after a few silent steps. "I owe you an apology, for the way I spoke to you, before the mist. You.. you meant it well, I know that. I am sorry." Ora's tail flicked lightly at the end, brushing her ankle. She hesitated, hoping to offer more of an explanation, but the words didn't come. The not-so-friendly cat had got her tongue; the part of her that was unsure about trusting the Cyndarans had gone from ignorable to irritating. Ora flashed him a shaky half smile, returning her eyes to the ground in front of her.
Zazz

 

[Brendanfp]

A napping Gwyn slowly stirred awake to the commotion of his group packing up and preparing to depart. The Sumennan had elected to nap under one of the strange trees that bared colorful shelled fruit but was now on his feet feeling slightly less exhausted now. Gwyn starred up to the still alien sky where instead warmth and comfort he was met with a myriad of distant twinkling specks. While he had done his best to hide his emotion from the other members of his party, he was still struggling with the reality of the situation.

"Man I'm really here... deep within the land of savages... the most horrific place in all of Bryn," the soldier whispered to himself.

As Gwyn moved something brushed against his foot. He looked down. There in the soft black soil laid half a shell. Within the shell had been a savory stew which Gwyn had devoured quickly before he drifted to sleep. He bent down slowly and retrieved the shell from the earth. The Sumennan reflected on the Orcs character, his bravery, and his kindness.

"The most horrific place in all of Bryn... Or at least that's what they told me..."

Quickly Gwyn rejoined the group as they departed towards the home of the Orcs.

SilverFlight Flutterby Zazz idalie AlbaGuBrath velleity deer The Suspicious Eye

 

[SilverFlight]

Desrick looked taken aback by the skin changer's ( velleity ) quick and savage retort, it only took a second before he smiled, a sliver of admiration appearing on his face.
"You're right." He said simply, before walking past her. "But only about the orcs."
After that Desrick left her alone. It was evident she wasn't going to cooperate with him.
Lenore ( The Suspicious Eye ) came to him next, speaking her warning softly.
Desrick watched the fairy go afterwards, thinking of one last thing to say. "You speak like you lived the lesson."
He made a mental note to press her further on that point. She was right of course.

"I'm taking a big risk." Desrick confided quietly to his Cyndaran friends as he picked their way through an unseen trail; Lenore's words had plagued him that far, and it wasn't just with the Summenans either, The skin changer was following them too. So far she had given absolutely no reason for anyone to like or even trust her. It irked him. At least the Summenans were amicable. This new Cyndaran seemed only to favour hate and arrogance.
"I'd better give her a warning, or she'll be filled with arrows before she reaches the gate." Desrick sighed before rounding back.
"Skin changer." ( velleity ) He addressed her as such, for she hadn't given anyone her name. "If you expect to be welcome in the village you'd best keep civil. My people will be on edge enough. They'll react to any threat...poorly."
He wasn't entirely sure how they would react to the Summenans, but he was sure it wouldn't be good. The last thing they needed was a savage, packless skin changer.

They walked for hours through the delicate glows of the forest. Each new sight vying to be the most impressive it seemed. A scaled creature with limbs like a deer and horns that curved down the back of its neck watched them through a grove of blue flowering trees. In an instant it vanished. In a valley below the trail a herd of giant, six legged beasts, great tusks protruding from the sides of their mouths ambled slowly through the underbrush.
Desrick took the party up a small slope and down into a thickly-forested ravine. Following that for what seemed like an eternity they finally broke through the trees into an open trail lined by trees so tall they vanished in a cloud of thick leaves.

All of a sudden Desrick stopped. The sound was subtle, and only people raised surrounded by bows would pick out the tightening of a string in the gentle rustle of leaves.
On the trail ahead of them a figure stood, his shock of red hair pale in the gentle light of the mushrooms on the trunks about him. His bow was leveled at the first Summenan he had seen. Crispin, Desrick's adoptive wood elf brother was standing as if he would fight them all.
A closer look would tell any observer that he was shaking, clearly terrified, and in no way a match for any accomplished fighter.
"Let...my brother go." He managed to stammer out.
He had misunderstood the situation and thought the Summenans were holding Desrick and the others hostage.
Desrick for that moment was taken completely aback. He almost forgot that there were twelve other archers with arrows trained on each member of the party.
One by one, they revealed themselves: wood elves all, grim expressions and steady hands on their hunting bows, ready to skewer any who made too quick a movement.

Flutterby Zazz idalie AlbaGuBrath velleity deer The Suspicious Eye Brendanfp

 

[Brendanfp]

Gwyn kept pace with the assorted group of travelers as they followed the lead of the burly orc. The soldier within him had been put on edge ever since he was attacked by a bloodthirsty oak. Now not only did he have to keep his eye out for any murderous flora, but he'd also have watch out for the vulgar-mouthed newcomer who had unleashed a verbal onslaught at Desrick. Gwyn had failed to even notice the woman's arrival so he assumed she appeared while he had been napping. Up until now all of the Cyndarians, he had met had seemed only slightly put off by his parties arrival in the mystlands, however, the vulgar women appeared to have a deep hatred for his people.

Perhaps... If I showed her the light... She would come around, Gwyn thought to himself.

Quickly the Sumennian began to add his encounter with this woman to his journal. His pen glided across the paper as he wrote a detailed description of her physical appearance and hostile personality. Suddenly he heard something. A rustling in the bushes beside him... behind him... in front of him... he had been too slow to realize that the entire party had already been surrounded. Gwyn's pen stopped mid-sentence as the air filled with the faint twang of bows being notched. A bead of sweat formed over his brow, but Gwyn remained calm. Unlike the blood oak incident, this was the kind of threat he was used to facing. In the middle of the path stood a scarlet-haired figure who's bow was strung and ready to find its target.

"Let...my brother go," the stranger stammered as he tighten the draw on his bow.

Gwyn wondered what the stranger had meant by those words. There was no one among the traveling party the even resembled the red-haired archer. The soldier had no time to discern the answer to his question, as several creatures slowly began to emerge from his surrounding. Surprisingly, his captors looked rather familiar. They resembled high elves, however, they possed neither the beauty nor grace of his brethren clan. Clearly, they had never been touched by the light.

"What is the meaning of this!" Gwyn called out to the savage elves as they closed in, his hand slowly making its way up to his blade.

SilverFlight Flutterby Zazz idalie AlbaGuBrath velleity deer The Suspicious Eye

 

[Flutterby]

They seemed to be walking for a long time. Time passed quickly for Ora, because every minute brought more new sights. She thought the herd of large, six-legged, tusked creatures looked almost friendly and rideable, which seemed like an absurd thing to think.
And then, the group was rather suddenly stopped by Desrick halting without warning.

Ora skidded to a halt and raised her eyes from the ground. In front of them, in the middle of the path, a red-haired figure stood with an arrow ready to fly. She supposed he was some kind of elf, even though the thought didn't register right then. Her hand slid backwards; she had almost gotten her own bow free of her pack, when an elf stepped out of the woods nearby, materializing from some hidden spot, and made eye contact with her. She returned her hands in front of her, palms facing toward the elf. The half-dwarf wasn't keen on being shot, especially after they had gotten this far.

She gave Gwyn a glance, as he yelled, and noticed that he was also reaching for his weapon.
"They think we're holding them all hostage," She called out to him, and then added, "Like that's even possible." The idea was a little absurd to her, considering the collective strength of the mystlanders, especially their orc leader, and the fact that they were all walking so calmly.
"Now would be a good time to explain, Cyndarans" She spoke again, knowing that anything they said would likely be taken as a lie.

 

[velleity]

Spoiler: Mobile Friendly

After a mumbled growl, the skin changer followed on, a hand ever on the pommel of her sword.

The heart of a great leopard beat within her chest and sharpened her instincts, and with her own wounds from the owlbear skirmish healed and faded, she did not trudge about the trail so much as dance across the roots and dirt. The Mystlands were home to many a fierce and deadly beast, but they were home to Vyara as well. She knew where to step and how, knew when to duck her head, knew what fallen limbs were obstacles or stepping stones, all as if she were raised within this very wood. She might wield the shape and soul of a graceless feline, but a feline nonetheless and her charm with the earth was second only to the wood elves.

Surrounded by the wonderfully wicked world of the Mother of Spring, Vyara found her nerves softening, a small skip quickening her steps, her usual relaxed smile pulling ever so slightly at the corners of her mouth. She could wander her country for the rest of her life, die horrifically at the claws or fangs of the garish beasts who roam with her, and be forever at peace. But all thoughts of calm were dashed when the orc turned and addressed her once more.

"Skin Changer," he said, his domineering tone drawing a growl from the woman. "If you expect to be welcome in the village, you'd best keep civil. My people will be on edge enough. They'll react to any threat...poorly."

"My name is Vyara," she shot back, "use it properly! ...Hmph! I'll keep myself however I please." She muttered the last bit, but her chest swelled with hope and new determination. She was well-versed with orcs, outside of that dunderhead anomaly leading the party, and she was certain to find more than a single ally among their ranks! Vyara's mind flashed with memories of brawls and adventures with various hulking fellows, always fast friends and sporting sparring partners. She wondered if she might see anyone she knew within his village, hoped anyone unfamiliar didn't share Dumbrick's oblivious or pigheaded nature.

The shifter continued on with the party for some while, the hours passing as quickly as her thoughts. She stole glances at Sumennans every few seconds, refusing to let her awe of the natural world overcome her guard. The orc whispered among elves, the half-dwarf in confidence with the drow, and the human scribbling away in a notebook. Outrageous monsters, the lot of them.

And then came the rustling. Vyara halted, as did the rest of the crew, and scanned the trees until a lone figure with all the battle experience of a leaf in summer stepped forth, arrow drawn as he called for his brother.

"What the . . . ?" trailed Vyara as others appeared from their places in the trees. Wood elves. All of them. But what could the boy mean? There wasn't a single wood elf among their number.

"What is the meaning of this!" the human screamed a few paces from her side. Her head snapped to him, saw his hand creeping towards his sword. Vyara's lips pulled back from her teeth, a growl rising in her throat as she reached for her own. With a dozen arrows trained on their backs, she at least knew better than to lunge for him.

Then came the dwarf's remarks, "They think we're holding Desrick hostage!"

Hah! Vyara, a hostage?! Never!

"Now would be a good time to explain, Cyndarans," Ora offered, and Vyara was more than happy to oblige.

"They're Sumennans! Shoot! Shoot now, before they can run!" She called out to the branched elves first before turning towards the boy in front, taking a slight step forward that he might see her. "The Orc, Dumb--er, Desrick... They've taken his mind! You have to shoot, now, before they corrupt any more Cyndarans, please, listen to me!"

After a mumbled growl, the skin changer followed on, a hand ever on the pommel of her sword.

The heart of a great leopard beat within her chest and sharpened her instincts, and with her own wounds from the owlbear skirmish healed and faded, she did not trudge about the trail so much as dance across the roots and dirt. The Mystlands were home to many a fierce and deadly beast, but they were home to Vyara as well. She knew where to step and how, knew when to duck her head, knew what fallen limbs were obstacles or stepping stones, all as if she were raised within this very wood. She might wield the shape and soul of a graceless feline, but a feline nonetheless and her charm with the earth was second only to the wood elves.

Surrounded by the wonderfully wicked world of the Mother of Spring, Vyara found her nerves softening, a small skip quickening her steps, her usual relaxed smile pulling ever so slightly at the corners of her mouth. She could wander her country for the rest of her life, die horrifically at the claws or fangs of the garish beasts who roam with her, and be forever at peace. But all thoughts of calm were dashed when the orc turned and addressed her once more.

"Skin Changer," he said, his domineering tone drawing a growl from the woman. "If you expect to be welcome in the village, you'd best keep civil. My people will be on edge enough. They'll react to any threat...poorly."

"My name is Vyara," she shot back, "use it properly! ...Hmph! I'll keep myself however I please." She muttered the last bit, but her chest swelled with hope and new determination. She was well-versed with orcs, outside of that dunderhead anomaly leading the party, and she was certain to find more than a single ally among their ranks! Vyara's mind flashed with memories of brawls and adventures with various hulking fellows, always fast friends and sporting sparring partners. She wondered if she might see anyone she knew within his village, hoped anyone unfamiliar didn't share Dumbrick's oblivious or pigheaded nature.

The shifter continued on with the party for some while, the hours passing as quickly as her thoughts. She stole glances at Sumennans every few seconds, refusing to let her awe of the natural world overcome her guard. The orc whispered among elves, the half-dwarf in confidence with the drow, and the human scribbling away in a notebook. Outrageous monsters, the lot of them.

And then came the rustling. Vyara halted, as did the rest of the crew, and scanned the trees until a lone figure with all the battle experience of a leaf in summer stepped forth, arrow drawn as he called for his brother.

"What the . . . ?" trailed Vyara as others appeared from their places in the trees. Wood elves. All of them. But what could the boy mean? There wasn't a single wood elf among their number.

"What is the meaning of this!" the human screamed a few paces from her side. Her head snapped to him, saw his hand creeping towards his sword. Vyara's lips pulled back from her teeth, a growl rising in her throat as she reached for her own. With a dozen arrows trained on their backs, she at least knew better than to lunge for him.

Then came the dwarf's remarks, "They think we're holding them hostage!"

Hah! Vyara, a hostage?! Never!

"Now would be a good time to explain, Cyndarans," Ora offered, and Vyara was more than happy to oblige.

"They're Sumennans! Shoot! Shoot now, before they can run!" She called out to the branched elves first before turning towards the boy in front, taking a slight step forward that he might see her. "The Orc, Dumb--er, Desrick... They've taken his mind! You have to shoot, now, before they corrupt any more Cyndarans, please, listen to me!"

SilverFlight The Suspicious Eye Brendanfp deer idalie Zazz | Noend Forest - Village Outskirts

 

[deer]

R

ossarinya could only quietly watch as Ora tended to her wounds, a polite smile remaining on her lips. Tilting her head to the side, Rossarinya shook her head lightly as the sound of her earrings clinked together softly like bell-chimes. The She-Elf wasn’t really bothered at her torn silk dress as she could always make another one, but, Rossarinya appreciated Ora’s sentiments. ”Thank you for your kindness and your aid.” She whispered softly only to stop momentarily as she listened to Ora’s voice. Rossarinya could only stare at Ora in disbelief. Why was she apologising to her? The half-dwarven woman’s words confused Rossarinya and she could only sit on the rock in grand stupor. The She-Elf believed that perhaps in time, she and Ora could be more acquainted. Rossarinya always had a curious thought when it came to dwarves and the stories she’d hear of them. Rossarinya wondered if Ora had an eye for beauty as well in terms of ore and silk as well. However, it wasn’t until she heard the shuffling of those around her that Rossarinya came out of her small daze. Gathering her things in a timely fashion, Rossarinya slowly stood up, taking her time as she moved steadily behind the others.

Once more, Rossarinya found herself taken back as Desrick spoke of seeing their priestess. Rossarinya could only furrow her brows in slight hesitation as she sucked in a breath. The She-Elf never found comfort in thinking of a ‘higher power’ and she wondered what the others thought of them. As Rossrainya’s gaze found Ora’s, her eyes traveled to where Ora’s eyes were settled on. In that moment, Rossarinya felt her stomach doing flips as she took an unconscious step back, feeling nausea take a hold of her. “That. . . arrow” She whispered to herself.. Why did Desrick have it?

The more Rossarinya’s emerald eyes stared at the arrow as the company traveled through the unseen trail, the more uncomfortable she felt. Time seem to have ticked longer than she remembered and the glittering glow of the scene didn’t make an impact on the curious She-Elf this time around. Her focus was solely on the Evereach arrow. But, enough was enough, Rossarinya slowly made her way towards Desrick. “Desrick? That -” She started before she stopped in her trail and clamped her mouth shut.

Her ears twitched while she listened to the subtle sound forming around the company, hidden. Her fingers twitched. Arrows? There’s. . . However, Rossarinya’s gaze snapped towards the Cyndaran ahead, eyeing the bow aimed at them. Hearing the low shake in the male’s voice, Rossarinya could only raise her brows slightly at the accusation aimed at them. Brother. . . ? Hostage? It was only seconds later that other. . . elves. . . . seemed to have emerged from the trees. Rossarinya’s eyes glossed over towards them as she passively stared back at ‘leader’, not liking the situation they were brought against. If she knew how the Elves were back in Summena. . . she could only imagine how they were in Cyndara, especially with enemies.

At hearing one of the Sumennan’s outburst, Rossarinya could only bite down the urge to shush him only to hear the sound of metal slowly being sheathed. Turning her head towards the male, Rossarinya frowned as Ora explained to him what was happening.”She is right. Raising a weapon will only cause more trouble. Don’t.” She chimed in. However, before she knew it, the shifter called out towards the Elves, claiming their accusations were right.

With a quick turn of her heels, Rossarinya’s attention went directly towards the beast-woman, having enough of her outburst. Nevertheless, Rossarinya slowly stepped up, raising her hand in submission. Speaking out-loud, Rossarinya shook her head before raising her head up, proud, feigning confidence.

”She is confused! Much like you are right now. If you say he is your brother,” she called out, hoping to reign in their attention to her melodious voice.

”Do you truly believe your brother would have been foolishly caught by us, Summenans? Look closer at us. If we wanted to harm your brother, he would have been tied by a rope or worse, injured.” Rossarinya paused for a moment wanting to gauge their attention.

“But, he is free from any scarring and is free to leave our presence if he so wishes. But, he has chosen not to. Please, lower your weapons and let us speak and clear these misunderstandings.” She finished as she exposed her small injury. Her injury could perhaps be some sort of evidence that Sumennans, her people, have been attacked and not the other way around.

“Desrick.” She whispered, hoping he would be able to calm down his brethens if her plan did not work.

tags: SilverFlight , Flutterby , Zazz , velleity , Brendanfp , idalie

 

[Nevina]

(OOC: Not in sight of the group yet!)

The muted sound of leaves and twigs under her soft leather boots were almost beginning to sound normal. Unentove still wasn't used to the uneven footing of nature's carpet, which made her long for the unimpeded smooth marble floors and rugs of her castle, the glistening paved stone roads of the city. Her legs were sore from using muscle groups different from her normal stride and dance. How long had they been traveling now? Still, it wasn't all that bad, considering, and the ground did seem somewhat softer than she had expected. That was, after all, the nature of dirt versus stone, which she had clearly given little thought to before.

The noble fairy had traded the buoyant and clamorous sound of laughter and festivals for the perpetual warble of insects and critters, her eyes gradually adjusting to the eternally moonlit wild lands. There had been plenty of surprises in coming across the barrier into Cyndara, including the pleasant discovery of the ethereal and radiant plants and bugs. Had she not been still mentally reeling from her recent plight, Unentove might have almost called it.. beautiful.

Despite her relief that the land wasn't cast in utter darkness as she had feared, she was quite displeased to have discovered that insects were drawn to the diminutive glow her skin produced. The light fae side-stepped a tree, hood pulled low over her face with her robe clasped the entire way down in the front, careful not to let the slits in the robe's side expose her skin. Find your own light source, you barbarian pests!

Another step over a jutting stone as she continued following her.. companion. Unentove tightened her jaw. For now, she could handle being an outlaw on the run, the tender wound that had finally stopped throbbing on her face, even the dirt that collected itself on her boots. These were things she would mourn later-- things she couldn't bring herself to think about yet-- saved for when they found some place safe to hole up in. What she was discovering that she couldn't handle, however, was the lack of voice. Unentove was desperately craving conversation, even if that conversation had to be with her despicable and cruel war monger of a partner, Khudalch.

"Well then, Khuda," She began, her voice light as her disdain was tucked away behind a perfectly welcoming expression, "As it seems we shall be in one anothers' presence for some time, it would behoove us to learn to communicate better." Earlier attempts of conversation consisted primarily of Unentove ignoring the other woman, while Khudalch gave the sporadic command with barbed commentary, which was certainly not appreciated. The fact that Unentove was speaking so bluntly now would have been read as an insult to any other proper House Lambent resident, but in this case, she felt it appropriate.

Unentove wasn't interested in hearing anything about death and mayhem, which she was sure was what Khudalch's life consisted of, and so to control the flow of conversation, she deemed it necessary to provide the topic: "Back when we navigated the wall-less labyrinth of the mist, I daresay I have been alight with curiosity since. Divulge what dreams transpired for you."

The duo had come by raft on the southern end of their continent, abruptly finding themselves tipped unceremoniously into the water as they were plagued with strange visions during their escape from Summena. It was clear there had been something about that mist, but neither had deigned to speak about it before now.

 

[Mythee]

Is it worth saving her? Khudalch Ir had asked herself the question twice since Unentove had publicly denounced her House's ways. The light fae had cut the bull, so to speak, and cut her face at the same time. Is it worth saving her? Unen was no longer a potential force of change in the world, after all. Her actions had spelled the end of her usefulness to her family as well as the end of her usefulness to Khuda. And so, the first time she had asked herself the question, she hadn't had an answer. Yet, the ex-captain had whisked the light fairy away regardless. It was sense of duty, most likely, that had driven that decision. Khuda saw herself responsible for the creation of this martyr, after all. That's what she had told herself at the time: that she was taking responsibility. How unlike her, to have been so whimsical. Why then, of all times? Until that moment, she had fulfilled her role perfectly, serving House Evereach's twisted justice without ever looking back on the trail of suffering. If Khuda hadn't left her post, she could have continued sowing the seeds of dissent. Other Unentoves could have appeared, and not all of them would be so... sacrificial.

With some quick thinking and a good deal more resources than the average criminal, the war djinn and her unlikely rescuee had ridden to port, sailed out on the first eastward smuggling vessel, then taken a rowboat out rather than reach the next port. If they had gone by land route, soldiers would have awaited their every step. And so she rowed, and rowed, for over 24 hours. Cyndara was their destination. They knew little of what awaited them there aside from darkness and new dangers... despite this, Khuda had believed it would be the best refuge they could seek to evade capture.

Is it worth saving her? The second time she'd asked herself that question was after their rowboat had tipped them over, the chill of cold waters snapping them out of their respective illusions. The light fairy, who had until then kept it together, had burst into sobbing tears. Back in the Lambent capital, with a voice as clear and beautiful as a siren's, she'd boldly driven a stake through the illusions that plagued her noble brethren. Unentove was, in that moment, the symbol of everything Khuda had wanted. Then, having crossed into the unknown and face to face with this wet, self-pitying creature, Khuda saw only her own mistake; the momentary lapse in rationale that had led her to cast aside her all-important role. They had both finally snapped, hadn't they? In their respective ways. Two people so different, with such similar failures. Whether either of them was worth saving was a worthless question to ask in this situation, where they had no way to evaluate their usefulness.

But they had made it through the mists, and survival had been Khuda's focus for the past two weeks. They mapped their way, evaded notice, shared rations, watch shifts at night. She kept her charge angry, too. Saw to it that the fire in Unen's eyes would keep burning hot, hopeful for retribution if nothing else. They had learned a few things since coming here. One, the territorial wildlife was unpleasant, no matter where. It was a good thing she had her blades with her. She had a sense they had been lucky in their encounters, if the frightening tree-trunk gash she'd seen in passing was any sign. Their injuries had been negligible thus far. Two, rising from a nap without sunlight leaves one feeling ill-rested. Three, curiously, there were scattered villages in this new world, which they had viewed from a distance. If Cyndarans were no better than monsters following their basest instincts, then this would warrant explanation. While they erred on the side of caution by avoiding contact with these smaller communities, Khuda charted their course toward- she believed- where they might be able to find a more central civilization.

The taller woman glanced back at Unentove when she finally deigned to make conversation. It hadn't been lost on Khuda that for such a social creature not to talk for this long, she must truly despise her. “Aww, look at that, she’s opening up.” Khuda's voice rang back at her with a metallic tone, thanks to the half-mask she wore to cover the bottom half of her face. "Has that pretty head of yours has already forgotten? It's Falsedge now, 'Song'." If anyone were to hear their true names, it could potentially travel back to unwanted ears. They had taken on aliases.

"-And I thought you'd never ask. Was your experience a dream?" She arched her brow, then went back to walking forward, keeping a watchful eye- and ear- out for any sign of danger. "Mine was more like a nightmare," she continued, emphasizing the word. Then without missing a beat, she delved right into her habit of pissing Unentove off. "So in this horrible apparition, we were making out. Smacking and macking like adolescents, couldn't tell frog from woman. Fuck, the sounds... It was chilling." Her voice dripped with horror, selling it. "In fact, we- hold." The tone was suddenly serious.

The clanking of Khuda's armored footsteps had come to a halt. A shout had carried through the forest. Distant, but from a seemingly human voice... Another loud voice, clearly from a different person, rang next, though they couldn't understand any of the words spoken from this far away.

 

[Nevina]

Unentove bristled, but returned a pointed smile, "Forget? An enigmatic assumption on your part, Falsedge. I had not accredited trees with the ability to spread word of our presence, nor, I suppose, the insects. To ease your poor worries I shall use this false name of yours as you so desire." She was generous like that.

And just when Unentove-- no, Song-- felt that Falsedge's words could not get any worse, the other woman promptly illustrated otherwise. A frog? Song stood agape at the visual of kissing that.. that.. she shuddered, both disgusted at the idea of kissing Falsedge's scarred lips that uttered such profanities against life, and also quite distinctly insulted that Falsedge herself was turned off at the idea of kissing Song. Falsedge should be grateful for the opportunity to have witnessed such an impossibility!

She couldn’t hide the sharp edge of anger in her voice, though as always, her voice remained at its constant, even volume, “Strange, and here I thought the mist showed us our deepest desires, what with my visions consisting of me no longer traveling with you and being amidst others intelligent enough to appreciate my abilities. Are you certain it wasn’t a mirror you were kissing?” Song might have adjusted the tale of her own apparitions somewhat, but she wasn’t about to confess that. “In fact, I’d say--”

Song paused at Falsedge’s prompting, her anger instantly set aside as she came to attention. The outlaw knew better than to verbally ask what it was until their immediate safety was determined, and so instead she quirked a curious brow at her partner from under the shadows of her hood, gold eyes shifting in the direction of the noise. After a moment, she felt safe enough to quietly venture, "Discounting potential causes of such volume, the tone seemed to be of an intelligent language. Perhaps we might find something more.. civilized yet." The pause was quite pronounced as she held back the urge to wrinkle her nose.

 

[SilverFlight]

Desrick tensed visible at Gwyn's outburst, and he could have smacked Vyara for her stupidity. Instead, he put his hands to better use and held them up in peace, stepping forward and looking at Crispin directly.
The other elves seemed confused by the shouting , but some looked very inclined to oblige the skin changer. They listened to Rossarinya however and others seemed to take her words to heart.
"Stay your weapons! I'm not a hostage. And I'm not under any spell either." Desrick boomed.
Crispin seemed to waiver, so he pressed on. He opened the palm of one hand; a neat scar could be seen in it, silvery against the green of his skin.
"I got this rescuing you from a karkadan. You tried to ride it. We were fourteen. Remember?..I also know you sucked your thumb until you were eight."
Relief flooded visibly into the elf's eyes and he lowered his bow. Gesturing for the other archers to do the same.
"These are sumennans, but they don't mean to fight. I wish to take them to the temple."
Crispin took a moment to process this, and after that had passed, he approached cautiously. "Right...well then...I bet mum won't be expecting this type of company...Are they all staying for dinner?" He glanced over at the others gathered, drawing in a breath, obviously quite taken by their beauty.
"Did you have to mention the thumb sucking?" He asked sheepishly.
Desrick broke into a smile. "Of course."
Crispin let Desrick take the lead, and the archers reluctantly slung their bows upon their backs. Some introduced themselves tentatively to the group while others hung back, scowling or exchanging fearful glances. This was new. It was different, and everything they had been told growing up contradicted what they were seeing now.
Flutterby Zazz idalie AlbaGuBrath velleity deer The Suspicious Eye Brendanfp

One archer, the obvious leader of the troop paused for a moment, looking off into one directly before he gestured subtly and two of his bowmen vanished into the trees.
These two made their way quietly over to the other two summenans, first to observe, then to collect...carefully, at the points of their arrows.
Mythee Nevina ((I'll let you guys control the guards and catch yourselves up to the group.))

The village entrance was almost unnoticeable, a small wooden gate made of raw branches that were still sprouting broad, glowing, green leaves. There were a few huts scattered about the ground, and some would have been surprised to see that they looked as if they had been grown straight out of the surrounding trees. Their roofs and walls curved, bark-skinned and leafy. Small holes in the sides served as windows from which the gold light of fires spilled forth. Overall however, there seemed altogether too few houses to make a proper settlement.
It was when Desrick came to a halt next to a particular tree (its trunk would have taken thirty people linking hands to go around) that things began to fall into place:
The orc grinned at the new comers to his home and pointed up.

There, in the thick, leafy boughs of every massive tree, were buildings. They were also growing straight into the trunks, lights twinkling off into the distance. Each trunk was connected by wood and rope bridges that snaked between them. There was an entire city, bustling straight above their heads.
"Go and tell the priestesses who we are bringing." Desrick told one of the guards that had found them. he obeyed reluctantly. Desrick was known here, but something about the way many of the guards behaved told them that he wasn't all together accepted here.
"What are we doing in the meantime?" Crispin asked tentatively.
"We'll take them home."
"Oh! That's great Des, let's just invite the mysterious light people into our house, there's only a small chance they'll set it on fire."
"They're not going to set the house on fire." Desrick said adamantly. "Don't be rude."
"Fine, but we're going the 'up' way this time, I want as many guards between me and them as I can get. At least until they've been to the temple."
Desrick looked visibly uncomfortable, but he agreed.

The 'up' way, as Crispin had called it, was a wooden winch elevator that took them to the third tier of bridges connecting this first tree with the others.
Once up Crispin bounced out onto the broad, wood platform, leaning over into open air, and into a two hundred foot drop.
"Don't do that!" Desrick barked, still clutching the back rail of the elevator. Obviously no keen on letting go.
Crispin gave him a wicked grin. "Heights still not agreeing with you brother?"
Desrick could only glare. this was revenge for the thumb sucking comment. He was sure of it.

Flutterby Zazz idalie AlbaGuBrath velleity deer The Suspicious Eye Brendanfp

 

[Flutterby]

Ora's head snapped to look at the skin-changer, and her hand twitched toward the knife at her hip. Her top lip twitched toward her nose, showing the disgust she felt in that moment. The elf nearest her cleared his throat, and tightened his bow string, forcing Ora to quell her temper. Should have injured you more, you're just trying to kill us all. She couldn't imagine why Desrick had allowed her to follow them.
But Rossarinya calmed the elves, and Desrick used some.. well, rather embarrassing details to verify he was in his right mind. It was then that Ora put together that Desrick was the brother that the elf referred to, and they were not going to go see more orcs, but would be staying with the wood elves. Her heart gave an uncomfortable thump. Elves were not her favorite people in Sumenna, would they be better here? Her dark eyes flickered to Lohr for barely an instant, and she felt a little more at ease.
The half-dwarf watched the elves with as neutral of a face as she could. Her eyes were trained on a pair that were disappearing back into the woods, when a voice sounded next to her. It was the elf who had pointed his bow at her, and he had a haughty, questioning expression on his face.
"What are you?" Was the first thing he said. Ora interpreted his tone as disgust, but it was probably just curiosity. "You're obviously not a proper fawn, or any Cyndaran I've ever seen, but.. well, you're just not like the others."
Ora turned to him with a flat look, and said softly, "I'm half-dwarf," Then, she added, a little venomously, "I'm one of those ugly Sumennans who eat Cydarans for dessert."
The elf looked a little shocked, and dropped back to get away from her.
SilverFlight velleity Zazz

By the time she was able to look around her, they were standing in a shady little area that could not possibly be a real village. With his usual flare, Desrick revealed the real settlement.. above their heads.
Ora's jaw dropped, for the umpteenth time since entering this land, and she mutely climbed onto the wooden elevator. The elf that she snapped at caught her amazed look, and she had the decency to duck her head apologetically.
While Desrick didn't seem to think it safe to go near any edges, Ora crept a little closer to Crispin, and peeked down. Her stomach flipped. She had never been so high up in a tree before. A tiny smile popped onto her face, as she backed up a little and looked around her, eyes twinkling in a reflection of the lights of the tree-city.
SilverFlight

 

[Brendanfp]

It was foolish for Gwyn to believe things couldn't get any worse, after all the time he had spent in the military there was one thing he knew for certain. A bad situation can always take a turn for a worse... and that's just what happened. The women who had spewed countless venomous threats at the Sumennian party was now reaching for her own weapon. Gywn's sense sharpened as adrenaline filled his blood. The woman now opened her mouth and began shouted towards the elves surrounding them. "They're Sumennans! Shoot! Shoot now, before they can run!" She called out to the branched elves first before turning towards the stranger in front, taking a slight step forward. "The Orc, Desrick... They've taken his mind! You have to shoot, now, before they corrupt any more Cyndarans, please, listen to me!" Gywn's mind was racing as several heads turned towards her. Fight or Flight? He who strikes first had the advantage. His hand tightened around the hilt of his sabre. What a shitty ending this would make for, Gwyn thought to himself as he his thoughts turned to his novel.

A voice cut through the air, and its origin was the elegant high-elf women. Gwyn had been surprised by her arrival, as he had been expecting a high-elf that went by the name of Andaer, however, he wasn't complaining. A trip through lands of unforgiving darkness could always be brightened by a beautiful woman and beautiful she was. The high-elf spoke well and attempted to diffuse the incendiary situation that had arisen, but Gywn wasn't convinced that her words had gotten through to the band of archers. Then came a second voice, a deeper growling voice. Gwyn was impressed by the tact and eloquence displayed by the brutish Desirck. The orc navigated through the encounter like a true diplomat. Slowly the arrow levelled with Gwyn's back was lowered, and his breathing slowed. The soldier removed his hand from the hilt of his sword and followed as Desrick and his apparently elvish brother led the way towards the village. However, a thought still echoed through Gwyn's mind. If this was only the reaction of a small party of Cyndarians, what would transpired when the group ran across a larger more hostile force. The soldier shook his head as he entered the wooden elevator.

SilverFlight Flutterby [/USER] idalie AlbaGuBrath velleity deer The Suspicious Eye

 

[deer]

W

ith a sigh of relief, not realising she had been holding her breath, Rossarinya slowly stepped behind Desrick, finding more comfort behind the scenes after the 'show' she had put on. Rossarinya rarely did anything of the sort, but, pretending she was talking to potential customers was an easy way to trick her mind. However, as Desrick spoke to the wood elf, it was only then her mind clicked together realising Desrick and these elves. . . were related, brethens, even. She only half-guessed with a process of elimination, but was relieved to know she wasn't making a fool of herself. Nevertheless, she still felt inadequate to even look at the wood elves but decided to 'suck' it up. Bringing her hands to her lips, Rossarinya tried to cover her laughter as she heard small, intimate details of the elf before them. But, the mention of 'temple' only brought shivers down her spine again as she tried to shake off her uneasiness. Soon, she followed behind the rest of her company, grateful the misunderstanding could be cleared up. . . slightly for now.

"Is your. . . " A voice came next to her, causing her head to twirl over, seeing one of the wood elves approaching near her. He attempted make small talk with her, though judging by his stance, he was still cautious, if not alert, yet his curiosity seemed to get the best of him - much like herself. Rossarinya's emerald gaze bore into the wood elf's only for her to clear her throat, nodding slowly as she took her time answering him.

"Yes. It is but a scratch." She spoke just above a whisper. Any tell signs of the confident She-Elf that was displayed before vanished and Rossarinya could only awkwardly shuffle her feet behind the rest, not sure what else to say to the Elf that made her, or rather any Elf, tense.

The wood elf, however, seemed to not mind her bland respond and continued, "I've never seen - are you Light Elves as bad as they say you are?" He asked, trying to make light of the situation.

"That depends of what was spoken about us. Light is supposedly 'good', but it's subjective. Though, I could revert the same question onto you, Cyndaran." She quickly retorted, slightly snapping at the end of her words, as she couldn't help but find herself feeling defensive.

Holding up a hand, the wood elf merely chuckled, "Just a simple question ."

Biting her inner lips, Rossarinya sighed inwardly, not meaning to come off in such a way, as she shook her head. "No, I apologise. It's not because of where you are from. I don't find. . .comfort in being close with other. . .elves." Inching herself away from the wood elf to emphasize her point, her words trailed off slowly.

At the corner of her eyes she could see confusion upon the wood elf's face but kept her attention and focus towards the village, Desrick's home. Her eyes widened at the architectural setting of the place as she couldn't imagine living there. She wondered if Braxius would have ever thought to live in such a place where the city was above in the trees. Was being high up among the trees safer than being on the grounds? Her thoughts took a dark turn and she couldn't help but shake her head from them, realising her negativity isn't putting her in the right mind. Slowly yet gracefully, Rossarinya’s glide led her to where the rest of her companions walked, heading into a make-shift contraption that would lead them up into the city of the wood elves. However, Rossarinya couldn't help but take note of some strain between Desrick and some wood elves, reminding her of her own experience with her own people. Odd one out.

As Desrick's brother shook the platform, Rossarinya's balance stumbled as she almost knocked into Gwyn. "I'm sorry." She said apologetically, trying to regain her position as she held onto the wooden rails of the elevator. Her head turned slowly, seeing the wood elf she had been talking to earlier with a furrowed expression and she could only sigh as her eyes landed back towards the arrow at Desrick's hip. Rossarinya wasn't sure if now was the best time, hearing Desrick's brother mention Desrick's fear of heights. But, perhaps it could get his mind off of the 'ride'.

"Desrick?" She called out softly, waiting to get his attention before pointing to the bow, ". . . Where did you get that?"

tags: Brendanfp ; Flutterby ; SilverFlight ; idalie ; velleity ; Zazz

 

[Zazz]

Lohrithe remained quiet as the group moved along into the village. He kept watch over the three women, leaving the skin-changer, Vyara, to his orc friend. He remembered coming home with Desrick, here, to the elves years ago as a boy, but the height of the wood elf villages still mesmerized him. Sure, his home was essentially a deep tunnel in the earth, but the surface of Cyndara was simply something to wonder at.

Finally, he thought to ask of the light elf, "What does your home look like?" He had never been to Sumenna, obviously, and he couldn't fathom the bright light. It would hurt his eyes, he thought.

 

[deer]

S

lightly jumping from the low voice near her, Rossarinya's attention was turned away from Desrick and the bow as her gaze fell upon the dark elf. Lohrithe. If she remembered his name correctly. Her brows furrowed as she listened to Lohrithe's inquiry. Blinking back her surprise, Rossarinya could only stare for a moment before her mind started working. How could she explain her home to someone who has never stepped foot in the light, much less answer such an open-ended question? Tapping her cheeks, Rossarinya's gaze wandered around as she looked left and right, gauging her surroundings once more before returning her attention back to Lohrithe.

"My home?" She questioned softly, gathering her thoughts together. "I . . . do you mean Summena itself or where I dwell in Summena?" Rossarinya asked, tilting her head to the side.

Clearing her throat, Rossarinya politely smiled, "If it is Summena itself, perhaps I can explain to you. Will you humor me for a little?"

Taking a deep breath, Rossarinya positioned herself in a more comfortable way as she leaned against the rail. "Do you remember the feeling of the heat against your skin from being near a fire? The warmth that it gives?" She asked rhetorically.

"The closer you head towards the fire, slowly and steadily the heat will flare against you, and if caught too close to the fire, you could almost smell and feel the burning sensation on your flesh. The bright Summenan sun's light can be unforgiving if one doesn't use ointments and other protection from his ray's. Thankfully, much like Cyndara's trees, the leaves provide a form of shade from the light if one wished to sit underneath the bright, blue sky." Rossarinya paused for a moment, humming softly as she listened to the small sounds of critters around the village.

"Some areas are quite open, especially the fields and meadows around Summena. It is a great area for horse-back riding." She sighed softly, almost wistfully as she longed to feel the wind in her hair and the sound of trots from her noble steed. A small smile made way to her lips as she remembered her brothers and their time together. Rossarinya felt her heart ache slightly as she reminisced the good times.

Shaking her head, Rossarinya turned her head slightly, feeling her cheeks reddened from her momentary lapse. "Although different in species, the flowers and animals that reside are Summena are just as free and exotic like those here in Cyndara. Oh, you must see how the flowers bloom in the light one day. And one thing we rarely do have. . . are those mist." She joked slightly, hoping it came off alright.

tags: Zazz , SilverFlight , Flutterby , Mythee , Nevina , velleity , Brendanfp , The Suspicious Eye , idalie

 

[SilverFlight]

Crispin watched Ora with a big grin on his face. "Pretty isn't it?" His body language gave away the fact that he was still quite uneasy about these new people, but it was also no secret he was taken with their beauty.
"You know, we have a lot of stories about Sumennans..but you're not ugly in any of them. At least that bit's true eh?"
With a sheepish smile he turned and started their way across one of the long wood and rope bridges to the next tree.
Flutterby

Desrick had waited until most of the party had stepped onto the bridge before steeling himself and letting go of the railing of the elevator. He grumbled the entire way over, crouching a little as he took hold of the rope barrier. One foot at a time, very slowly he stepped onto the bridge.
When Lohr asked about Sumenna Desrick paused, listening intently. He tried to picture the land she described. It sounded terrifying, but also beautiful. He couldn't help but be filled with the urge to see it for himself.

The question about the arrow made his expression turn grim, and even as he was comically shuffling across the bridge he fixed her with a serious look.
"I pulled it from the body of one of my people." He took the shaft from his belt and held it out to her. "You recognize it." It wasn't a question.

The trek across the bridge took longer on account of the acrophobic orc, but at length they reached the other side. this tree was even bigger around than the first, and had a series of doors and spiral stairs jutting out of the rough bark. From there grew a ramp that meandered downward again, to a forested bluff on which sat a wide, squat tree, as ancient as anything could be, with stone-black bark and wide, steepled trunks. Inside the tree, of course, light could be seen through delicate stained glass windows set into the knots. A temple of Cyndabrynde.
Beyond this however was a light brighter than anything they had seen since they entered the woods. It shone almost as bright as daylight, pure white, illuminating a bustling center square. The temple overlooked the square, sitting above it on the hill, and at the town's center, held up high on a living tree pedestal, was one of the node crystals they had seen from a distance at their camp sight. It was as big as a house, and shone with a brilliant, inexhaustible light both gentle, and pure.

"Once you have been appraised," Desrick started to explain as they reached the back gates of the temple, "If you are found to be true, and your intentions benign, you will be permitted to stay and you can meet the healers, and visit the archives...though I think you will have to submit to being guarded...this..hasn't happened before. The elves are understandably nervous."

@Ophal Zazz idalie AlbaGuBrath velleity deer The Suspicious Eye Brendanfp Mythee Nevina

 

[Flutterby]

Ora looked up at Crispin. He noticed her amazement, and even though he didn't seem to want to stand to close to her, decided to speak to her. His smile was big, a little goofy even, and Ora couldn't help but return it with her own half-smile, closed lipped, but it just touched her eyes. She nodded, and was about to comment on why it was so beautiful, when he spoke again.She blinked and the ends of her ears burned a little. All these mystlanders, calling you pretty, I wonder what they could ever hope to achieve?
This time, she shoved the voice away and said softly, "I could say the same about you Cyndarans."
The wood elf turned and lead their way across the bridge, with Ora trailing thoughtfully a few paces behind. She thought she might say more to the elf-brother, but the conversation behind her caught her attention more.
The way that Rossarinya spoke of Sumenna, caused the first pang of homesickness she had ever felt for Dwerstand. The sun, mostly; she hadn't thought about the absence of its warmth yet, but now it made her heart sad. Her lips parted, hoping to add to the description of their homeland, but they clamped shut when Desrick mentioned the arrow. Ora's dark eyes flashed over the light elves in their company, holding her tongue. It was their people- she would give them the chance to own this conversation. But if no one said..

The walk across the bridge was painfully slow for Desrick, but after several minutes, and a lot of sympathetic looks from the half-dwarf, they had all cleared the bridge, and approached the temple. Ora was staring beyond it, at the magnificent light, like a million of those"stars" had come down from the sky and landed in one place. She had to tear her eyes away, almost painfully, to look at the Cyndarans. Her voice was reserved, hiding nervousness, when she asked,
"What will.. Cyndabrynde appraise us for? What does this temple teach?"

 

[Zazz]

Lohrithe listened intently to Rossarinya's description of Sumenna, his white brows pushed together as he tried to imagine this foreign land with its bright blue sky and hot fire. He had no idea what the Sumennan "sun" was. There was no sun, in Cyndara, as far as he knew. "But where does the light come from? What, or who, is this son you speak of?" The drow was very confused, but very curious. He wanted to see the world outside of his.

They reached the light at the town square, and Lohrithe hesitated, shielding his midnight and green eyes. It was a gentle light, but nonetheless it bothered him. Perhaps Sumenna was not a place for him to visit... The dark elf fell back behind the others, taking time to adjust to the lack of darkness.

 

[Mythee]

(OOC: catching up... eventually... xD)

Deepest desires? Did that forsaken magic mist play favorites on them? What Falsedge had experienced was far from it, but now wasn’t the time to rebuke her.

“Shut it, prattler. I don’t have your long ears for the listening.” She cut in and motioned with two fingers for Song to follow her, then began to make her way hastily in the direction of the shouts- they had been quite far away, so it was unlikely they could be seen or heard from here. Getting closer was a small risk she was willing to take in case someone was in trouble. After all, maybe they’d help them navigate this new land in return for saving their life. Just the smart thing to do. Possibly a wasted thought in Cyndara, where they didn’t know if allies were even a possibility– but there was no time to hesitate. Falsedge found the first tree with a low branch to hoist herself up, climbing up to get a better view-
Two figures were moving in the trees toward them, and with great agility. They couldn’t possibly outrun them, especially on what was clearly their home terrain. Falsedge leapt back down to the forest floor with a heavy thud and promptly shoved Song over a small nearby ledge before spitting out a ‘Stay!’ in a harsh whisper and turning around, at the ready.

With one hand resting on the hilt of a khopesh, she declared loudly as their visitors arrived:
“Well, this is awkward.”
The two elves stood on branches above, pointing their arrows at the face of this- how to describe- If the others so far had been clearly Summenan, this extremely tan, gaudy-colored, sun-emblazoned figure was glaringly, in-your face Summenan, carrying a sort of effortless hostility despite her casual tone that made them want to instantly loose their arrows.
-“Summenan!” -was actually the first thing out of one wood elf’s mouth, with only his discipline and captain’s orders to keep him from skewering the intruder this moment.
“Yes, you called?” She quipped back, coyly.
The other archer, lavender-haired and older looking, frowned at this.
-“Let go of your weapon! Now!”
She didn’t budge.
“Mind if I ask you first, what happens to unarmed Summenans around here?”
-”We don’t usually get Summenans.” the younger elf said, clearly on edge. “Where’s the rest of your invasion?”
-”Calm down, Aibo. We were given orders. You and the others are safe with us, so long as you don’t make any moves.”
The others? Other Summenans? An invasion? Now that was an interesting lead. Perhaps there was a clearer path ahead for them. That younger elf, well, he seemed terrified of her. There was fear and doubt in the other one’s eyes, too, but he spoke with a frank honesty that she knew to recognize. She let go of the hilt of her weapon and slowly lowered her arm.
“Fascinating. In that case, come on out, Song.” She turned her back to the two elves to call the other woman out, showing them that she wasn’t on guard. “Looks like Cyndarans have that civilization thing you wanted, aren’t you happy?”

She would, of course, come out with an arrow still pointed at her, too.

 

[Nevina]

The push took her by surprise. With what could only be described as a mastery of grace, Song managed to not only avoid face-planting into the brush of the ledge, but she also managed to spin just in time to twist into a neat little crouch. Despite their immediate danger, Song puffed with pride at her elegance that was most certainly not adrenaline fueled luck. It didn't matter that none bore witness to her brave act of defying gravity; her confidence in herself was more than enough satisfaction, with just enough time to shoot Falsedge an unamused glare.

The moment was short lived as she realized weapons with decidedly more literal sharpness than her own daggered stare were pointed directly at Falsedge. The former noble cringed at her companion's terrible sense of diplomacy; was she trying to get into a fight with the first creatures who bore more intellect than a fly? She was about ready to interrupt Falsedge when the two scouts offered safety, though it wasn't until Falsedge herself lowered her arms that Song's own guard was set to ease.

Song exited the bush with a quick pat of her robe, making a small cluck noise with her tongue to indicate her distaste of the twigs and leaves that came with her. She made a point to flick one of the twigs at Falsedge, but otherwise focused her attention on the two.. Cyndarans.. who had promptly turned one of their arrows towards her. They certainly looked like elves. Did such creatures truly reside here? She observed them with tense appraisal, as if wondering when they might reveal their monstrous forms. Not one to dally after words had been shared, however, she gave an airy wave of her arm as if to disregard such notions, "You need not such weapons addressing us, fair.. people." The hesitation was short enough that most wouldn't notice, and she paired it with a pleasant and welcoming smile, "We appreciate and accept your offer of safety. I fear the lands are harsh to those of us who are guests upon it."

Song certainly wasn't interested in naming themselves as part of any invasion, and felt obligated to note this distinction, "I have set upon a quest to find beauty in the world and weave music with it," Her lies flowed with the ease of one grown in the courts, her own voice a lilting melody, "Though I fear that I was not prepared for the sharp edge of such beauty here."

The guards didn't lower their arrows right away, but it was easy enough to see Song's glossy robe and boots were of finer build than a soldier's, her airy demeanor sounding more like naivety than sly treachery. The more important part was that it seemed the more aggressive woman was making no further attempts of reaching for weapons or sudden movements. The two guard flashed a look between one another, an invisible nod given as they lowered their arrows and loosened their bow string. Though they did not, one might observe, put the arrows back to their nest. The one named Aibo still seemed ill at ease, while the older one nodded his head back in the direction they had appeared from, "We will escort you."

"Much thanks," Song politely chimed, nearly flouncing with joy in being able to communicate with others, "Might I make an appeal to learn the names of our newfound protectors?"

"This is Aibo." The lavender haired elf replied, his own eyes warily following them, "I am Dounen. We will have you rejoin your Summenans at the temple."

Not one to be discouraged by the curt replies, Song persisted, "Oh a temple, how lovely! Why, I'm certain that--"

And thus began the incessant pratter of the noble elf who had been two weeks without proper company. She didn't even pay attention to where they were heading towards, occupied as she was with asking them questions and declaring all the niceties of the information they shared, adding in a bit of flourish with her own tales of beauty in their side of the world. It was a rare moment for Song to not even pay attention to her audiences' reactions; she was in pure bliss to indulge in conversation that it didn't matter if it was with these would be monstrous murderers.

"And then--" Song paused, blinking as she realized there were more voices just ahead, "Oh, are we there already?"

 

[Mythee]

At first, Falsedge found it appropriate that Song could get it out of her system and quite possibly not go mad with loneliness as their journey continued, but every time the war djinn had found the opportunity to ask some questions or spur their elven escort to inform them on Cyndara, the temple, and the other Summenans, Song inevitably twisted it around to a topic she could talk about again. Evidently, someone loves the sound of her own voice. Falsedge didn't know if she was more awed at the light fairy's vocal stamina, or annoyed that she was costing them the advantage of knowing more about what they were getting into.

-"Is she always like this...?" The younger archer asked Falsedge, so exasperated that even he could overcome his timidity.
"And you thought I was the dangerous one." She gave him an ugly chuckle.
He seemed to want to laugh, but couldn't.
"What, haven't warmed up to me yet?" She mocked, untactful.
He pulled back from the conversation, senses warning him that there was definitely something off about this person. More than being Summenan, that is. Compared to Falsedge's fake-sounding laughter, even Song's ceaseless chatter was more pleasant.
Well, this was better for her in a certain way. Not talking was her most diplomatic state, and they were in 'enemy' territory, or so they were told to think. Soon enough they encountered another elven scout.

"We found two more." Dounen spoke, and without any pomp or fanfare, they were brought to the foot of the giant arboreal community that housed the temple of Cyndabrynde. Like the starry skies they had trekked underneath, Falsedge found the view to be grandiose and beautiful... Though she wasn't one to be charmed with aesthetic alone. After all, people lived here. Something she knew intimately was that the most beautiful city could host the ugliest secrets.

In the town square there was, indeed, an odd and assorted group of Summenans that looked like they had no business whatsoever on this side of the Mist barrier. The two elves looked visibly relieved to see that their Cyndaran comrades were unharmed.

Their group caught up to them at the back door of the temple, at which point Falsedge announced their presence before their escort could.
"Fancy that! Are you people here for the tour, too?"
-"Be respectful in the temple." Dounen addressed her, eliciting an amused twinkle in the brute's eye.
"Following rules is my specialty. How can we be respectful for you today?" She spoke serviceably. Unnervingly so. But she was right in a sense- as those who brought them here, they would feel responsible for any grave missteps they made in this holy place.
Dounen turned to speak to a nearby temple attendant.
"These Summenans are unfamiliar with our customs. We would best make sure they are informed."

 

[velleity]

Spoiler: Mobile Friendly

No way.
No fucking way!

They just believed those light fiends?! Just like that?! Call the skin changer confused and offer a thumb-sucking comment and those damned wood elves take the Sumennans at their word?! The orc may keep his memories, but that didn't mean his mind belonged entirely to him! Why couldn't they see that?! Why was Vyara the only one who saw those foreigners for what they were?! Light lovers! Monsters! Villains out to destroy everything she held dear!

Her grip grew tighter on the hilt of her sword as the others moved forward to follow the orc and his "brother." Meanwhile, one of the elven archers sneered at Destrick's back as the orc made his way into the village, then turned his eyes to the rest of the motley crew that followed. All but one. He noticed Vyara's hesitation, caught sight of her hand on her sword, her knuckles void of color, and jumped from his perch to the ground, fluid and graceful as the rest of his kind. He kept an arrow notched to the bowstring and held it on guard.

"Onward, stranger," he said as he nudged her back with the tip of his bow. "You may be Cyndaran, but you are neither known nor welcome here. Keep close to your party."

The shifter's head twitched back, flashed a glare and snarled at the offending elf before finally following footsteps. Her boots slammed against the earth, her gait heavy and determined, her mouth set back into that uncharacteristic scowl, flashing her fangs. One hand remained on the hilt of her sword, the other at her side, fingers curled and twitching, bones cracking, her body yearning to let loose the fury blazing in her veins. Nothing could quell her rage. The beauty of the treetop town was little more than sticks and leaves in her eyes. Her pulse pounded in her ears and drowned out the banter between the so-called siblings as she arrived at the tail end of the group. She could focus only on her anger and expressions of the wood elves as they paused their errands to stare at the group; most dripped with curiosity, others betrayed their fear, and some were pulled taught with a temper akin to Vyara's own. But these expressions were directed at the group entirely, not just the uninvited foreigners, and whenever her eyes clashed with the villagers', her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach.

Vyara was a warrior. A protector. She was loud and lively and too willing to brawl according to the rest of countrymen, but she was good!

. . . Right?

She was caring and kind and sincere, and even though more than a few had voiced their concerns with her actions, they were still accepting of her!

. . . Weren't they?

They still loved her!

. . . Did they?

Despite it all, she loved her people. She only wanted to protect them, guard over them, and serve the maker of the night world as best as she could.
And yet her people tore her soul into pieces with every frightened glance and irritated glare.

So focused on her own thoughts, Vyara took no notice of Rossarinya's lesson on Sumenna, of Ora's somber silence, of Lohrithe's curious questions, or of the Orc's guiding words. They were all the better for it to be sure--the shifter was close enough as it was to letting her leopard self out to play and vent her fury/melancholy by slitting throats and wreaking havoc. There had been enough chaos for a while yet, and so she simply kept to herself, lost in her sad thoughts, and trembled with emotions that she couldn't quite place.

That is, until they reached the temple.

The starlight glimmering in the stained glass caught her eye, reeled her consciousness back to the present. A temple! Cyndabrynde! Not so gorgeous as Aureja's of course, but plenty pretty enough. Her joy leaped forth, her lips caught in a half-smile of utter relief. She could pray! Pray for the Sumennan's swift exit from the Mystlands, pray for peace, pray for vanquished threats! Pray to Cyndabrynde! The Mother of Spring would answer this time for sure. For sure! How could she not with these invaders in her territory?

She pushed past the elves, the dwarf, the orc, yearning for the feeling of home within the temple, and then--

"We found two more."

Pause.
What?

Vyara turned her head to find two women joining their group, one who stood tall and drenched in Sumennan beauty, the other looking as fierce and ruthless as any vanguard soldier and with all the scars to prove it.

Two more.

"Fancy that! Are you people here for the tour too?"

Two more.
Light-lovers.

"Be respectful in the temple."

Two more.
Monsters.

"Following rules is my specialty. How can we be respectful for you today?"

Two more.
Villains out to destroy everything she held dear!

"These Sumennans are unfamiliar with our customs. We would best make sure they are informed."

Her breath came quick and shallow.
Her knuckled curled and cracked.

No way.
No fucking way!

They just believed those light fiends?! Just like that?! Call the skin changer confused and offer a thumb-sucking comment and those damned wood elves take the Sumennans at their word?! The orc may keep his memories, but that didn't mean his mind belonged entirely to him! Why couldn't they see that?! Why was Vyara the only one who saw those foreigners for what they were?! Light lovers! Monsters! Villains out to destroy everything she held dear!

Her grip grew tighter on the hilt of her sword as the others moved forward to follow the orc and his "brother." Meanwhile, one of the elven archers sneered at Destrick's back as the orc made his way into the village, then turned his eyes to the rest of the motley crew that followed. All but one. He noticed Vyara's hesitation, caught sight of her hand on her sword, her knuckles void of color, and jumped from his perch to the ground, fluid and graceful as the rest of his kind. He kept an arrow notched to the bowstring and held it on guard.

"Onward, stranger," he said as he nudged her back with the tip of his bow. "You may be Cyndaran, but you are neither known nor welcome here. Keep close to your party."

The shifter's head twitched back, flashed a glare and snarled at the offending elf before finally following footsteps. Her boots slammed against the earth, her gait heavy and determined, her mouth set back into that uncharacteristic scowl, flashing her fangs. One hand remained on the hilt of her sword, the other at her side, fingers curled and twitching, bones cracking, her body yearning to let loose the fury blazing in her veins. Nothing could quell her rage. The beauty of the treetop town was little more than sticks and leaves in her eyes. Her pulse pounded in her ears and drowned out the banter between the so-called siblings as she arrived at the tail end of the group. She could focus only on her anger and expressions of the wood elves as they paused their errands to stare at the group; most dripped with curiosity, others betrayed their fear, and some were pulled taught with a temper akin to Vyara's own. But these expressions were directed at the group entirely, not just the uninvited foreigners, and whenever her eyes clashed with the villagers', her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach.

Vyara was a warrior. A protector. She was loud and lively and too willing to brawl according to the rest of countrymen, but she was good!

. . . Right?

She was caring and kind and sincere, and even though more than a few had voiced their concerns with her actions, they were still accepting of her!

. . . Weren't they?

They still loved her!

. . . Did they?

Despite it all, she loved her people. She only wanted to protect them, guard over them, and serve the maker of the night world as best as she could.
And yet her people tore her soul into pieces with every frightened glance and irritated glare.

So focused on her own thoughts, Vyara took no notice of Rossarinya's lesson on Sumenna, of Ora's somber silence, of Lohrithe's curious questions, or of the Orc's guiding words. They were all the better for it to be sure--the shifter was close enough as it was to letting her leopard self out to play and vent her fury/melancholy by slitting throats and wreaking havoc. There had been enough chaos for a while yet, and so she simply kept to herself, lost in her sad thoughts, and trembled with emotions that she couldn't quite place.

That is, until they reached the temple.

The starlight glimmering in the stained glass caught her eye, reeled her consciousness back to the present. A temple! Cyndabrynde! Not so gorgeous as Aureja's of course, but plenty pretty enough. Her joy leaped forth, her lips caught in a half-smile of utter relief. She could pray! Pray for the Sumennan's swift exit from the Mystlands, pray for peace, pray for vanquished threats! Pray to Cyndabrynde! The Mother of Spring would answer this time for sure. For sure! How could she not with these invaders in her territory?

She pushed past the elves, the dwarf, the orc, yearning for the feeling of home within the temple, and then--

"We found two more."

Pause.
What?

Vyara turned her head to find two women joining their group, one who stood tall and drenched in Sumennan beauty, the other looking as fierce and ruthless as any vanguard soldier and with all the scars to prove it.

Two more.

"Fancy that! Are you people here for the tour too?"

Two more.
Light-lovers.

"Be respectful in the temple."

Two more.
Monsters.

"Following rules is my specialty. How can we be respectful for you today?"

Two more.
Villains out to destroy everything she held dear!

"These Sumennans are unfamiliar with our customs. We would best make sure they are informed."

Her breath came quick and shallow.
Her knuckled curled and cracked.

SilverFlight The Suspicious Eye Flutterby Brendanfp Mythee Nevina deer idalie | Wood Elf Village

 

[The Suspicious Eye]

Lenore

Lenore didn't answer her orc companion as he spoke out, she knew her past was indeed holding a series of lessons. However, now was not the time or place to tell such a long and broken story. She walked along with the others as they made their way towards the orc's home. It had been quite a long time since she walked into any village, the last one was that of her own kind and in the end it was unpleasant. The memories of iron blades and the searing pain of her loss made hr skin crawl.

Her mind wandered as he feet continued onward heavy and slow as stone being pushed up a hill. Lost in the scarres of her past Lenor swlaked face fist into the stopped Summerlander. Her face wincing from the pain it was a relief to her that she did not collide with iron for she might not have a face at all. Rubbing her nose she looked up at the Summerlander curious as to why they and subsequently the others had stopped. Unmotivated to float up in case of danger Lenore tried to peek around the band of stocky misfits to no avail. All the elderly fairy could pick out was that their large leader of the group had stopped. If only she could ease around them she could see what stopped him. Stepping slightly onto the earth she felt the earth call out to her to stay still and listen. Foot frozen to the soft soil, she relaxed herself and her mind and focus on the shift in earth. This technique Lenore knew from her earliest of memories, used as a form of tracking others. However with help from her master it expanded into being able to survey the entire land, picking up anything connected to the ground, as far as her Mana could reach. Carefully looking around her she gazed in the estimated direction of the other archers surrounding them. Thinking of how to evade such an attack Lenore was spared the why as Desrick'e brother spoke out to the group. Her eyes narrowed as the wood elves made themselves known and she saw the arrows pointed towards them.

A bit of worry crossed over Lenore's soft face as she wondered what she could do. Although rest and a meal helped her slightly recover after her long rest, avoiding the arrows alone would be hard for her in her current condition. Let alone having to protect the Summerlanders as well and, there was little she could do. She could only hope that diplomacy could be found between them all. Hearing the stoic Summerlander shout and notice him begining to reach for his blade she gave him a sour look only to turn back to the archers as the female tried to explain. Hearing her call out to the Cyndaras to explain, Lenore's first instinct was to speak up and try to explain, yet she could not. Looking upon these faces she saw no one she knew, no one that saw her as a child of this forest or even the traitor her kind had branded her. As close to her brothers and sisters as the land bonded them together, Lenore felt detached from them. That feeling sunk deeply into her chest as she closed her lips and hoped Desrick could mend this on his own. Her days of delegation were gone, as of now she was just as a stranger to these people as the Sumennas were.

Before Desrick could speak the young shape changed, Vyara, called out of the Sumennas death with lies. Tisking loudly Lenore wishef she was beside the fish girl to quiet her. Lenore could empathize with her hated of their kind but she did not stand for endangering others for such selfishness. Luckily the other Sumernan had some sense and tried yet again to come to an understanding. With her words and Desrick's connection to his people they were able to all relax again and were luckily welcomed as guests for now. It was true that she couldn't help but crack a slight smile at the young elf's more private events being brought bro light. Looking around at the others she began to float a bit as she listened in quietly to their conversations. Not needing the elevator she floated up to the top of the read and landed on the platform a bit earlier than the others. She admired the amount craftsmanship has changed since her time. Everything was much more civilized in Cyndara than it was eight hundred years ago. Temples have changed and yet our love for Cyndabrynde never waivered. Resting her hand against the tree she smiled remembering this tree it was far older than her, but my how it has changed. How you have grown. You hold quite a lot on your shoulders. Be proud and stay strong. Blessing the tree and ground with a bit of her Mana she watched the others arrive and enter the temple.

Following suit she looked in awe at the temple and it's futuristic wonder. Lightly stepping across the floors she gazed around inspecting the innovations of buildings, this being her fist seen after her rest. Used to the brightness of the sun and light it took her only a minute to adjust to the pure white light that shone over the center square. Leaning over the edge she looked down at the bustlinfh squat below having not seen such a vibrant market since she was with her master. Missing most of the conversations, Lenore was lost as she gazed up at the node crystal. The illuminated vision of the crystal dropped Lenore deep into her past. Standing there Lenore didn't know how many minutes had passed around her, but she felt the centuries of her lost life weighted heavy on her. It wasn't until anew voice called out that she was pulled out of her long trance and looked back to see the new faces. Her brows rose in surprise as she saw the two new faces. However, she caught a dark aura eminating from the shape changer nearby. In truth Lenore was equally startled by these new arrivals to Cyndara. This was becoming more than a simple discovery team as they first claimed. If more were being found in the forest how many more Sumernans could be scouting their home and for what reason. Clenching her fist she strode over towards Vyara and stood in front of her with a serious look. "Not here Vyara. Not in her temple." Her eyes flashed with mana showing that she was not joking. Without another word she turned in her heels and went to the others to see these new strangers up close. ( velleity )

@Ophal Zazz idalie AlbaGuBrath velleity deer SilverFlight Brendanfp Mythee Nevina

 

[Brendanfp]

At last, they had reached the temple...

Gwyn stood in awe as the party reached the end of the long rope bridge. The first thing to catch his eye wasn't the temple, but something that sat beyond it, in the village's center. The object of interest was a gargantuan crystal perched high in the branches of a tree. Soft radiant light poured out from the jewel illuminating the square and casting oblong shadows onto the ground. The soldier dragged his hand across his face wiping away a tear. It was a truly inspiring sight, to say the least, but that was enough of that. Gwyn was sent here for a reason, had he forgotten that. An orc had invaded the Summerlands, and Gwyn needed answers. As much as he wanted to trust Desrick, he just didn't have all the facts. Gwyn thought for a moment. His best chance to gather information would be while he was here in the heart of a Cyndarian settlement. Once his party had settled down he would make his move. Gwyn's train of thought halted when Desrick began to speak.

"Once you have been appraised," the orc started to explain as they reached the back gates of the temple, "If you are found to be true, and your intentions benign, you will be permitted to stay and you can meet the healers, and visit the archives...though I think you will have to submit to being guarded...this..hasn't happened before. The elves are understandably nervous."

Gwyn bit his tongue at the mention of being guarded, and what was this appraisal processes about. The soldier steadied his breath. This couldn't stand, Gwyn needed a way to freely investigate the town unannounced to the orcs. He would need help, but who could he rely on?

Lady Eirianwen Perhaps? No... While she was a reliable healer he feared that the halfling had gone soft for the Cyndarians. Hatching a plot with her could be his undoing ( idalie ).

What about the dwarf... Ora? Gwyn was unsure. Before they crossed the bridge he had observed her conversing with the elf who had JUST held their party hostage. Better safe than sorry, so Gwyn ruled her out as an option ( Flutterby ).

And what of Rossarinya, the fairest of the Sumennian party. Gwyn considered the thought for a moment. While he was enamored by the high elves beauty, she seemed to be more intrigued by Desrick's character. While Gwyn favored the orc above any other Cyndarian he had met so far, it was imperative that he not his bias cloud his judgment and distract from the mission ( deer ).

Gwyn deliberated for several more moments before a brilliant thought came to mind. Well, perhaps "brilliant" wasn't the right word. It was risky... and perhaps suicidal, but if he could pull it off he would have made a powerful ally. Without further thought, the Sumennian soldier slowly approached the shape-shifting woman ( velleity ).

As Gwyn approached the woman, he noticed her posture. She was tense, definitely not happy. Well, he wasn't sure if she was ever happy. Slowly, approaching her from behind the Sumennian took in a deep breath realizing that this might be the last thing he ever does. Gently he tapped the stiff shoulder of the vulgar-mouthed woman, "Pardon me... If I could have but a moment of your time I believe I have some information that might be beneficial to both of us," Gwyn said in hushed tones before extended a hand he might very well lose, "The name is Gwyn by the way."

SilverFlight The Suspicious Eye Mythee Nevina