Fantasy Setting Summer Dawn

[SilverFlight]

Crispin took Ora's ( Flutterby ) comment to mean him specifically, and this made his cheeks redden noticeably. "Well...I uh..I suppose a lot of us are fairly easy on the eyes.."The woode elf stayed with them as they made their way to the doors of the temple. In comparison to the rough exterior of the temple walls the doors had been finished and rose, smooth and black in the light of flickering torches. he was happy to answer Ora's next questions too.
"The priestesses channel the spirit of Cyndabrynde herself. They speak for her, and they'll say out loud what the lady goddess finds in your hearts. First and foremost Cyndabrnde is a lady of peace and harmony. Her teachings are kindness, forgiveness and togetherness." He thought for a moment, then added with a sheepish rub at the back of his head. "I'm sure you won't have anything to fear."

In this time the two new Sumennans ( Mythee Nevina ) joined the group and Desrick looked them over with a critical curiosity.
"Friends of yours?" He asked the group he guided here.

The temple attendant took the guard's words and bowed before vanishing through the doors. She returned accompanied by another figure, clad in flowing lilac robes, a circlet of opalescent stone ringing her pale forehead.
"The temple of the Great Lady bids you welcome." He voice, deep and clear cut through the low whispers among the group.
"You will be permitted into the sacred space, but you must follow our customs and our rules: The temple is a place of worship and self-reflection. No weapons are allowed within these walls, and any form of violence or acts of hatred are condemned in the eyes of the Lady of Peace. They will not be tolerated."
With that she looked at each member of the party critically, before stepping aside to let them pass.

Desrick lead by example, taking the axe from his back, his hunting knife and the broken arrow shaft and placing them on a table at the side of the door.
Crispin was next, laying his own knife and his bow and quiver down as well. The guards that had followed them behind, made no move to put down their weapons, and stood blocking the only way out that wasn't through the temple itself. A passive statement that they did not have a choice but to be subjected to the Goddess' judgement.

"STOP!!" An anger-filled voice cried out as an aged wood elf came stalking after them down the wood bridge. He pushed past the guards, gnarled staff in hand and came to a stop right before Desrick.
"You've gone too far this time." The venom in the old elf's voice was unmistakable. "How dare you bring these lightlanders here?!"
Desrick towered over the man, and narrowed his eyes, though when he spoke his voice was slow and patient. "They must be appraised, elder Grims."
"An orc found them, so this is an orc problem. You are endangering wood elves needlessly bringing these blood-thirsty savages right into the heart of our village!..Unless your people burned all the temples we built for them, and you've none left to do this work?"
It was a barb meant to make Desrick angry. Desrick had been at the forefront of the initiative to build temples for the orc camps, to help them become closer to the peaceful teaching of the goddess. Not all settlements had taken to the temples, but overall they were a success. One that the elder was bitter about. Crispin looked indignant, but also fearful. This man, whoever he was, was clearly a figure of some influence in the settlement. Desrick took a breath and met the old man's hateful gaze.
"The orcs I was checking on are gone. Their homestead ransacked. Something happened to them, and the Summenans could help me find out what."
"That is both nonsensical and irrelevant to my point." The man snapped, waving a dismissive hand. "Orcs are born to war, your village must have just been the latest to fall victim to infighting. These barbarians won't help you. And I won't permit you to desecrate our sacred temple with their filth!"
Desrick bared his teeth, his carefully-cultivated temper finally ready to crack. "This is my home too you pompous, intolerant--" But he was stopped short by a faint light filtering through the doors. The priestess who was standing aside for them raised her head.
"The goddess bids you enter." Her voice, though it was still her own echoed strangely this time, as if something was reaching through it to touch them.
The old man, shocked and fearful, staggered back. It was clear even he wouldn't interfere with what was happening now.
The inner sanctum could be seen through the doors, a circular dip in the floor, bathed in moonlight, which illuminated intricate patterns made with tiled opals and mother of pearl. The sides of the circular chamber were ringed with stone statues of maidens, past priestesses, holding items relevant to their lives. The statues held up a domed roof, fashioned with precious stones to reflect the real night sky.
Each person present felt the compulsion to stand under the light.
Zazz idalie AlbaGuBrath velleity deer The Suspicious Eye Brendanfp Mythee Nevina Flutterby

((So how this works is the priestess will say a few sentences to appraise the heart of your character, you can write these for yourself in your own posts if you like, but no one can deceive the goddess, so the statements have to be true.))

 

[Flutterby]

Ora looked back up at Crispin, and her dark eyes widened a little. Kindness? Forgiveness? Togetherness?
The wood elf made a sheepish comment that she had nothing to worry about, and she blinked in surprise. Did he know nothing about life in Sumenna? No, obviously, you buffoon.
Ora gave a small shake of her head, and said softly, "Sumennans aren't very good at those three things. Hopefully your goddess will forgive us."
The half-dwarf was distracted from her conversation by the arrival of two others. One was clearly a light fairy, though she had a large, fresh scar on her face, and the other.. well she wasn't completely sure, but she thought she might be a war djinn. Ora had heard rumors of them in Sumenna, but they never strayed near Dwerstand. She looked over at Desrick when she spoke, and gave a small shake of her head.

Not that there was time to think about it much, with the appearance of the priestesses. Ora felt a wrench in her gut, as they were instructed to disarm themselves. She glanced back the way they came, and then resigned herself to it. Her knife, bow, and quiver plopped onto the table, just as a shouting old elf appeared.
The exchange with Desrick was surprising, to her. Clearly, he was not as accepted here as she had thought, or that he maybe should be. Her gaze slid to him, watching his temper begin to flare, as the elf said things that seemed.. well they seemed like very personal attacks. Her heart gave a lurch for Desrick- if anyone knew how it felt to be treated this way, it was she. In the back of her mind, she felt an inkling that there was something there.. something she should be putting together, with these little bits that had been given..
The insults to the Sumennans didn't phase her much, but the half-dwarf turned to glare at the elf on behalf of Desrick.

Her glare melted when the priestess spoke, and she turned to look in pure awe. Well, maybe it was a little bit of terror, too. Her eyes fixed on the room past the doors, adorned in stones like she had never seen before. Ora's dwarf part gave an elated gasp. She had never seen such pure, large opals. That mother of pearl, too, was far above any quality that they had ever pulled out of the Dwermounts, which were more filled with colored stones like rubies. And the stones on the ceiling..
Ora was standing within the center of the room before she knew it. She glanced around, and suddenly felt afraid.

Her eyes locked suddenly with the priestess, and the same strange voice came out of her again.
"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."

Ora's heart dropped clear to the floor, and she was only able to hold the priestess's gaze for another heartbeat, before dropping her eyes to the floor. Was it shame she was feeling?

 

[Mythee]

"Huh, just that?" Falsedge arched a brow, unbuckling the straps that held her scabbards and laying them down without even the thought of a complaint. Clearly the night lands weren't lawless, but surely there had to be more ritual and authority to inform this little Summenan invasion of before they are allowed to desecrate their holy places. No violence, no acts of hatred. Perhaps therein lay the catch; what passed for an act of hatred, and what would happen if one crossed that line? Did those here truly worship kindness, forgiveness and togetherness, or was it in name only?

This Elder Grims- she would remember the name- marched in and demonstrated that just as expected, Cyndara wasn't free of prejudice and hypocrites giving themselves airs. That the orcs were thought of as a warlike people might have made Falsedge feel closer to them if she'd actually had any urge to identify as Shaksran, but it made little difference to her.

Falsedge looked over the group, observing them as they deposited their weapons one by one- they were certainly well-armed and equipped for a journey. Were they fellows in coincidentally timed self-exile, or were they here with a purpose? By the make of their clothes and their faces, they did not appear to be from matching social classes; as such, they would have made unlikely acquaintances back in Sumenna. Indeed, by the way they interacted with one another, they probably hadn't known each other for long. This made the exile party idea unlikely. Perhaps, under the lead of the one uniformed man among them, they had come to Cyndara with a goal.
The silver-haired man did not carry himself like a soldier, what with his casual posture- but his uniform was unmistakeably of House Bryson. Unlike Falsedge's straight-backed and disciplined body language, he allowed himself to relax. It belied a naked confidence. He was no doubt a man of rank. If any of them should be interrogated, it was probably he.
The one who seemed most out of place was the Elven lady. Her beauty would have stood out even in Summena- no wonder then that she drew so many long gazes here. With her quiet air, she appeared either withdrawn or distractible to Falsedge at this time.
The horned one was of uncertain race. The only reason one could guess that she's Summenan was because of the way she and the Cyndarans held themselves relative to each other. Her quill was small with limited ammunition, so it was likely only for hunting- but she had not one, but two swords, eh? Unlike Falsedge's twin khophesh these were longswords, an intelligent choice to increase reach due to the horned woman's short stature. It was difficult to tell what kind of build went under those layered clothes, but with the thought and style put into her weapons, perhaps she was a warrior after all.
Speaking of arrows, the orc was carrying one, but it didn't look like it was cut from the same stock as any of the other arrows around here. One had to wonder what its purpose was.

Orc. A creature of legend, here before them. Though it was only the second time she'd seen one. Falsedge glanced over to Song, expecting some form of reaction to his monstrous form. Rather than fear and distaste, Falsedge was equal parts impressed and entertained by their differences. Now there's a big green shoulder she'd want to clap... and probably never encounter in a fight. Yeesh, those muscles. She had fixed him a little too long, perhaps, and so gave him a grin and a dainty little wave of the fingers. Not that anyone could see her grin, hidden by a half-mask as it was.

The other cyndarans among them had mixed and interesting forms- couldn't miss the freckled girl shooting that bloodthirsty, hate-filled look at the Summenans, though. Who knew what the rest had done to deserve such animosity? And why the hell were most of them even here? They weren't with the wood elves, from the looks of it.

She watched and listened to the noble elf woman's appraisal, not particularly impressed by the mumbo-jumbo. Was there any real magic at work? She supposed she'd wait her turn, but there was probably nothing to worry about even if they could actually read minds. Or hearts.

Zazz idalie velleity deer The Suspicious Eye Brendanfp SilverFlight Nevina Flutterby

 

[velleity]

Spoiler: Mobile Friendly

"Not here, Vyara. Not in her temple."
The shape changer drew a quick breath, her eyes growing wide as plates as they turned to focus on the fairy, then on her surroundings.

The temple . . .

Right. Of course.

How could she have been so stupid?!

Full of reluctance, Vyara straightened her stance. Her hands twitched to the bone daggers at her thighs, but she clenched her fists and held them at her back.

Not here. Not in her temple.

Her breathing betrayed her bloodlust, still quick and still shallow. Her head jerked about, as if trying to shake the murderous thoughts from her mind. Focus. Focus! She shut her eyes tight against the soft light of the node crystal and hoped, willed it to be, that the Sumennans were gone, that she was home with Aureja, but when another voice snapped her out of the void, nothing whatsoever had changed.

Well, except for the human's foolhardy approach to her side.

"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." At the sight of his extended hand, Vyara rose a solitary brow. "The name's Gwyn, by the way."

. . . Really? He was actually serious?

Vyara bared her teeth, eyes narrowed, and opened her mouth with the intention to tell him exactly where he could shove that damned hand, until--

"STOP!!"

Interrupted yet again. But instead of anger coursing through her veins, intrigue bid her watch as an ancient wood elf gave quite the tongue-lashing to the party's guiding orc. Satisfaction bloomed on her face. She brought her fists forward, silently cheering for the elder and nodding at his every word. Finally! Someone with some sense! Someone with a clear mind! Someone who saw the Sumennans for the awful omens that they were! A wide-toothed grin spread across her face as the old man refused to give up, a slight growl pouring past whenever Desrick shot back.

"The goddess bids you enter."

The words of the resident priestess commanded attention now and Vyara's smile faded.
What...? She couldn't... She couldn't really want these monsters in her temple! Could she? They were the children of her enemy, after all! They were villains, they were evildoers, they were... they were invited onto holy ground...

What was Vyara's world coming to?

The shifter flashed another glare at the human who dared approach her, but it lacked the same ferocity of those past; it was a scowl marred by curiosity. If he passed his appraisal, if Cyndabrynde herself deemed him worthy... should she listen to what he had to say? No. Of course no. He would never succeed. She hesitated a moment, unsure how to act, then removed her weapons and her pack at last and set them aside from the pile. She followed the others inside, blinking furiously to keep her eyes dry. Vyara was certain she conquered the compulsion to weep in awe at the sight of the Mother's temples long ago, but it gripped her tightly again. Or maybe it was something else? Doubt, perhaps. Or fear.

Her chest grew tight at the dwarf's judgment, her breath caught in her throat. Two tears slipped past her defenses only to be wiped across her leather armor.

She passed.

A Sumennan passed.

"Not here, Vyara. Not in her temple."

The shape changer drew a quick breath, her eyes growing wide as plates as they turned to focus on the fairy, then on her surroundings.

The temple . . .

Right. Of course.

How could she have been so stupid?!

Full of reluctance, Vyara straightened her stance. Her hands twitched to the bone daggers at her thighs, but she clenched her fists and held them at her back.

Not here. Not in her temple.

Her breathing betrayed her bloodlust, still quick and still shallow. Her head jerked about, as if trying to shake the murderous thoughts from her mind. Focus. Focus! She shut her eyes tight against the soft light of the node crystal and hoped, willed it to be, that the Sumennans were gone, that she was home with Aureja, but when another voice snapped her out of the void, nothing whatsoever had changed.

Well, except for the human's foolhardy approach to her side.

"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." At the sight of his extended hand, Vyara rose a solitary brow. "The name's Gwyn, by the way."

. . . Really? He was actually serious?

Vyara bared her teeth, eyes narrowed, and opened her mouth with the intention to tell him exactly where he could shove that damned hand, until--

"STOP!!"

Interrupted yet again. But instead of anger coursing through her veins, intrigue bid her watch as an ancient wood elf gave quite the tongue-lashing to the party's guiding orc. Satisfaction bloomed on her face. She brought her fists forward, silently cheering for the elder and nodding at his every word. Finally! Someone with some sense! Someone with a clear mind! Someone who saw the Sumennans for the awful omens that they were! A wide-toothed grin spread across her face as the old man refused to give up, a slight growl pouring past whenever Desrick shot back.

"The goddess bids you enter."

The words of the resident priestess commanded attention now and Vyara's smile faded.
What...? She couldn't... She couldn't really want these monsters in her temple! Could she? They were the children of her enemy, after all! They were villains, they were evildoers, they were... they were invited onto holy ground...

What was Vyara's world coming to?

The shifter flashed another glare at the human who dared approach her, but it lacked the same ferocity of those past; it was a scowl marred by curiosity. If he passed his appraisal, if Cyndabrynde herself deemed him worthy... should she listen to what he had to say? No. Of course no. He would never succeed. She hesitated a moment, unsure how to act, then removed her weapons and her pack at last and set them aside from the pile. She followed the others inside, blinking furiously to keep her eyes dry. Vyara was certain she conquered the compulsion to weep in awe at the sight of the Mother's temples long ago, but it gripped her tightly again. Or maybe it was something else? Doubt, perhaps. Or fear.

Her chest grew tight at the dwarf's judgment, her breath caught in her throat. Two tears slipped past her defenses only to be wiped across her leather armor.

She passed.

A Sumennan passed.

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

 

[Nevina]

Song stood idly while the others unloaded their weapons. She felt herself at ease, given that Falsedge deemed it safe enough to relinquish her own weapons, and so she glanced around quietly. It wasn't until she noted one of the elf guards staring pointedly at her that she realized he was waiting for her to unload a weapon. Ha! Like she'd carry such crude implements of-- Oh. Right. She was. Song haughtily pulled the small dagger from her boot, it's hilt richly decorated, the blade an expensive craft of finely folded metal. It's size was better suited to carving than for getting itself coated in blood, but she supposed this would appease the guards.

Pulling up the back of the line alongside Falsedge, Song found herself with enough time to observe this strange new situation. The protesting elder caught her attention first, and Song blossomed into a grin. Not only was there gorgeous architecture and a strange allure to the atmospheric lighting, but there was also an actual, developed sense of culture! The light fae nearly purred with happiness as she watched the cantankerous elf argue on behalf of their society, an example in itself that they had standards. Perhaps she might find something worthwhile here yet.

It was a sobering thought, and her grin faltered and slipped back into her trained hostess smile. Not for the first time she wondered what they were doing out here. What was she doing out here.. Song cast a sidelong glance towards Falsedge. Questions nibbled at the back of her mind as she peered at her companion, but they were questions she wasn't yet ready to entertain.

Instead, Song turned her attention to the motley gathering they had been corralled into. Their attention pulled to the priestess gave Song the opportunity to stare unabashedly. What could possibly bring Summenans out this way? She pulled her hood further over her face. How long had they been here? With luck, these travelers wouldn't have heard tale of the recent uproar at House Lambent. House leaders might have tried to quell the news of her actions and flight, which in turn would have given birth to a myriad rumors, each more flamboyant than the last. She would have enjoyed fanning those rumors herself, had she not been the match that caused it. Regardless, the group clearly had other things to worry about for now.

Thoughts cataloged for later consideration, Song proceeded with her examination of the group: The large green man's skin didn't seem too peculiar, when painted skin could be found readily at House Lambent's renowned and colorful festivals. His jaw's deformity, however, caught her attention, where it looked like his teeth didn't quite fit into his mouth. She stared at his lips with fascination as he spoke, marveling at how he managed to not skewer himself upon his words. She looked away as a show of consideration, in case he was shy of his mouth's deformity. ( SilverFlight )

The light fae belatedly realized someone had stepped forward into the moonlit room, intrigued upon hearing the positive verdict. Well, that seemed easy enough. The woman was short, perhaps a dwarf of some kind. She wasn't what Song would call beautiful, but she wasn't exactly repulsive either. Perhaps because her face didn't hold that look of enmity that others had. ( Flutterby )

Song was surprised, then, when her eyes fell upon a woman whose face had previously burned with antipathy, just in time to see her sweep away tears. It was moving, Song thought, that the woman cared so much for her people. Not moving enough to make her forget that Song was one of those hated intruders and that it would be best to avoid her, but moving nonetheless. She dared not let her eyes linger on this woman, as she was keen on avoiding any confrontation given the uncertainty of their situation. ( velleity )

Was that.. a fairy! Song was disappointed to note they were not of light origins, but still, a fae of Summena was a welcome sight indeed. It took all her willpower to bite back a greeting to the other woman, wondering if it would be considered disrespectful to talk inside the temple. ( The Suspicious Eye )

Forcing herself to keep her eyes moving, she was surprised to see a human here. His hair indicated that he was beginning to move past his prime, and she mourned those who had such short life spans. Still, he seemed rather capable and held himself in a manner that made her suspect he'd had training of some sort. It made her feel wary of him, which in turn prompted her keep her most pleasant smile plastered upon her lips to continue avoiding any reason for discord. ( Brendanfp )

There were more in the party she was eager to investigate, but she took a moment to lean in towards Falsedge, finding small comfort in the one familiar person to her, even if said person was a sanguinary war djinn. Forgetting her concerns over temple etiquette, she whispered, "How do you think you will fare under judgment of these foreign laws?" Part taunting, part genuine concern. ( Mythee )

 

[Zazz]

His questions unanswered, Lohrithe followed the rest into the temple. He, like the others, unsheathed his great sword and set it on the table. It was longer and wider than any other blade from those present, and well adorned. Though, not as extravagant as the newcomer's... knife? Lohrithe could not see much of its owner, but what he could see he found charming; eyes the colour of the gold that ran along the flat side of his blade. And her partner, though fierce-looking, had eyes the hue of the light that came from the glowing insects in his home underground. He found her sleek blue hair nearly as mesmerizing as her eyes, and he wished to find just the right colours to paint it. He probably stared a little too long as he disarmed himself and left his things together, but he could not help it; he had an eye for beauty.

The inside of the temple was breathtaking; the dark elf's strange eyes followed each pattern in the pearls and stones, noting each variant of iridescent colour shimmering across their surfaces. He was, of course, marveling at all the beauty when the Goddess spoke through the priestess. "Lohrithe, of the underground, you are of an innocent soul. Be not caught off guard by wickedness behind beauty, but also be true to your heart. Stay, and teach others to trust."

Lohrithe dipped his head in a respectful bow and stepped back to let another take their turn.

 

[Mythee]

The appraisals so far had been vague enough that Falsedge would wager that a one-penny fortune teller could easily recite the same words, but what were the odds that Cyndarans actually commonly had the chance to communicate with their goddess?
There were such 'holy people' in Summena, who would claim to be capable of that feat- to be one of the exclusive few who could convince their flock that they hear and convey the will of their deity, all for the express purpose of cultivating power and influence, building their fame, fortune and sprawling, gorgeous temples on lies... or in the rare case, their pure delusion.

But it's not as if her disillusionment meant she was expecting everything to be the same wherever she went. After all, this lot of fellow Summenans were remarkably alive right now, with hardly a scratch on them despite the little angry Cyndaran over there's unveiled hostility. If this had been Summena, drifters from across the mist would have found their judgment much sooner and met with the end of their days. It's not as if the priestesses, who would allow even Summenan border crossers to plead their case, were creating a more harmonious nation or fostering its togetherness. After all, the idea in itself had sown divisiveness among the Cyndarans. Rather than maintaining these values only for themselves, it was possible that they adhered to it as a higher principle... or that they wished to gain Sumennan allies for the intel it could grant them. Falsedge smirked under her mask, crossing her arms. The past two weeks might have been a holiday from civilization.

The next one in line for appraisal was a Cyndaran- unless he had stepped inside, she would have thought him part of the official escort for the Summenan group. Was it standard custom for those entering this city for the first time? The priestesses must be busy. He was a silvery man of a race unknown to her, with dark sclera that would terrify most Summenans- not to mention his heavily scarred face; clean gashes from weapons, not claws or teeth, that had healed well. Perhaps Song could look forward to her wound closing without pulling at the flesh and discoloring her with sickly patches around its edges if it was kept clean and treated as skillfully. He shared in dashing elven features that Summenan folklore about Cyndara would have deemed impossible, but his prominent musculature would be unusual among elves, and he was no doubt a force to be reckoned with in combat.
When his gaze lingered on her, she figured she'd show him what a badly healed scar looked like.
Making sure it was while Song wasn't looking, Falsedge pulled off her metal half-mask briefly to flash him a shocking grin. The thing about assassins is that their weapons tend to be laced with poisons. When one's job is to track down and subdue the sneaky bastards, a festering necrotic wound or two is well within expectations. She was lucky to have survived it even though her good looks certainly hadn't.
And just like that, she looped the strap back around and the half-mask went back on, replacing the jarring sight of her lower face with the comparatively acceptable silver snarl of engraved fangs.
She winked at him and put up a finger. "Shhh." Then she pointed at Song, whom she thought might faint if she ever saw it.

As if on cue, Song approached her with a question that belied some justified concern. Falsedge side-eyed her for a moment, arms crossed, before responding with a low voice- probably the most subdued that the fairy will ever had heard it. She would have spoken unkindly so that none could begin to think of her as a provider of comforting words, but her reasoning won out over her habits; managing an unfavorable image moments before some priestess decides if she can stay in town would be counterproductive.
"It won't come to violence in here, I can tell that much. If the outcome is unfavorable, there are things other than moral fabric we can offer to have them re-evaluate our worth as allies."
She meant intel, of course, though explicitly stating it would be unwise. It was possible that Song would wish to stay, even if Falsedge were told to leave; but the Shaksran wasn't ready to trust this place to keep her charge safe. Falsedge's betrayal of House Evereach was only halfway done; it wasn't like her not to finish the work!
"That one has more to worry about than I do."
She added gesturing to Vyara, hoping to distract Song from asking what she had meant by "things other than moral fabric."

Zazz Nevina velleity

 

[Flutterby]

Ora quickly stepped back from the center of the room, casting her eyes about. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Vyara swipe quickly at her face. Was the skin changer.. crying? Why, in summer's name, would she be crying? Was it even possible for a creature like that to cry? Ora dismissed it, as a trick of her own eyes, and quickly moved her eyes away; there was no need to give her another reason to attack them. ( velleity )
The half-dwarf kept her chin lowered, watching Lohr's appraisal from under dark lashes. An innocent soul? Most certainly, she thought, recalling the way he had first approached her. Wickedness behind beauty? Well, the entirety of Sumenna could fall under that category. Ora chewed on the inside of her lip thoughtfully, and waited for the next appraisal. While she did, her mind wandered.

The old elf that had protested- he had gotten Desrick to say out loud that he was helping the Sumennans- holding on to them- because they might be able to help him find out what had happened to the destroyed orc village they had passed. The image of the bodies flashed through her mind, and her tail curled around her ankle.
Desrick had pulled the arrow from one of the orcs, he had said that to Rossarinya. A light elf arrow, a Sumennan arrow. Inside Cyndara, before they had come. Her brow furrowed, confusion settling over her mind.
What could possibly explain the House of Evereach sending armed troops into unknown territory, before sending this scouting mission? How had they gotten to the village, without guides? Where were the troops now? Did- did Cyndarans kill them?

 

[velleity]

Spoiler: Mobile Friendly

The drow passed, but that was of little surprise to Vyara. Of course he held the goddess's favor, he was Cyndaran, as was she. But her gaze remained wary, her form tense as she watched him return his place outside of the light. She remember his hold, strong and fierce and entirely unpleasant. She remembered a mouth full of dirt because of him, because of all of them, light-lover and night-walker alike. Her eyes flickered to Desrick. This was his home, he said. His place. His village. His temple. Could she truly trust the words of the priestess before them, knowing their connection to the orc . . . ?

Stupid, Vyara, so stupid! If anyone knew anything about temples and priestesses, it was the shifter! She knew Cyndabrynde's voice when she heard it through any other! How could she possibly even begin to doubt such things in such a place?! Idiot, she chided herself as she met the devout elf's faraway gaze. The priestess gave the barest inclination of her head. Vyara's turn to be judged had come.

She should feel confident and completely sure of herself as she stepped into the light, but her thoughts were filled with flames of one year past. Her turn. Vyara's turn. Surely the most devoted of that motley group of fellows, and she must be appraised before the rest of the Sumennans even ventured close?! Her hands curled at her thighs as she knelt before the elf, twitching towards the space her daggers once were.

Cyndabrynde must have good reason to call her out so quickly. The goddess probably wished to make an example of her. Look on, countrymen and unwelcome guests alike, the shape changer imagined, behold the form of a true follower! Such beautiful words would only be followed by the quick death of those wretched foreigners! Surely that was how it would be!

Surely.

Surely. . .

"Turmoil follows your every step. Your intentions are true and good, but well hidden within a heart of hatred."

Wait. . . That wasn't what she was supposed to say.

"Violence is not welcome here, shape changer."

Vyara's head shot up, her eyes wide with fear and growing sorrow. That wasn't at all what she was supposed to say!

"Until you learn the kindness taught by your fellows, neither will you be."

The shifter's breathing came ragged. She couldn't keep still. Her hands shook, fingers twitching. Her head swiveled, eyes darting about, searching for a comforting face among the crowd but finding only stern faces and angry glares. Not a single small smile or soft expression met her frantic face. Aureja was dead, after all.

The guards venture close to grab hold of each arm.

"No. . . Please, no, please don't do this! My lady! My goddess, please I have served you faithfully my entire life!"

No response.
Her face was splotched red with hot tears. The guards forced her to her feet.

"I only wish to serve you, my lady, I swear it! I only want to protect your people! My people!"

Nothing.

The guards began to haul her backwards, towards the edge of the circle, but she refused to be moved so easily. Thrown out of town by Cyndabrynde herself. . . Had she truly fallen so low that even the Mother of Spring would toss her aside?

Out of sheer desperation and complete terror of total abandonment, Vyara took a step forward and dragged the guards with her. She didn't want to be left alone. She couldn't be. If Cyndabrynde cast her out, she would have no one. She would become a mere husk of flesh and blood and bone with no one to care for her name.

She couldn't let that happen.

The tears poured freely now, ruining her vision, but she glanced towards the varied party anyway and saw a hulk of green skin and the beautiful Sumennans at its side. Her eyes returned to the priestess, full of sorrow and sincerity.

"I promise... I-I swear it, my lady, I swear I will do anything you ask! I will learn! I'll be kind and peaceful, I will! I will lay down my sword and life for you, great Mother, just. . . Please! Don't. . .!"

Don't send me away.

"That is enough, shape changer," one of the guards commanded. He was all cold steel, but hurried and upset that the shifter brought their actions this far in the presence of their goddess. This was Her temple, a place of reverence and peace; to think that a fellow Mystlander would act so defiant while claiming to be so zealous within it was more than a little unnerving.

"Hold."

The guards froze, Vyara along with them. All eyes latched onto the holy elf.

". . . To learn requires guidance, shape changer, and a guide you shall have--in the form of our daylighter guests. Attend them at all times. Learn to wield a tolerant mind as well as your sword, and welcome you may be."

The faraway look off the priestess slid at last from the leopard's face to the air within the room as she awaited the next appraisal.

The guards' hold loosened and they slid their arms away, but pinned her instead with stern stares that watched her every move. Vyara remained where she stood a moment longer, hardly breathing at all.

Attend them at all times.

Attend the Sumennans. Learn from the Sumennans. Let the Sumennans be her guides.

She could scarcely believe it. She didn't want to. Let her enemy teach her patience and acceptance and peace?! That couldn't possibly work! But the Mother's every whisper was the will of Vyara and compliance her only option. And so, her presence in this village too precarious to risk, she left the light at last and stood beside the half-dwarf. She kept her eyes trained on the floor.

The drow passed, but that was of little surprise to Vyara. Of course he held the goddess's favor, he was Cyndaran, as was she. But her gaze remained wary, her form tense as she watched him return his place outside of the light. She remember his hold, strong and fierce and entirely unpleasant. She remembered a mouth full of dirt because of him, because of all of them, light-lover and night-walker alike. Her eyes flickered to Desrick. This was his home, he said. His place. His village. His temple. Could she truly trust the words of the priestess before them, knowing their connection to the orc . . . ?

Stupid, Vyara, so stupid! If anyone knew anything about temples and priestesses, it was the shifter! She knew Cyndabrynde's voice when she heard it through any other! How could she possibly even begin to doubt such things in such a place?! Idiot, she chided herself as she met the devout elf's faraway gaze. The priestess gave the barest inclination of her head. Vyara's turn to be judged had come.

She should feel confident and completely sure of herself as she stepped into the light, but her thoughts were filled with flames of one year past. Her turn. Vyara's turn. Surely the most devoted of that motley group of fellows, and she must be appraised before the rest of the Sumennans even ventured close?! Her hands curled at her thighs as she knelt before the elf, twitching towards the space her daggers once were.

Cyndabrynde must have good reason to call her out so quickly. The goddess probably wished to make an example of her. Look on, countrymen and unwelcome guests alike, the shape changer imagined, behold the form of a true follower! Such beautiful words would only be followed by the quick death of those wretched foreigners! Surely that was how it would be!

Surely.

Surely. . .

"Turmoil follows your every step. Your intentions are true and good, but well hidden within a heart of hatred."

Wait. . . That wasn't what she was supposed to say.

"Violence is not welcome here, shape changer."

Vyara's head shot up, her eyes wide with fear and growing sorrow. That wasn't at all what she was supposed to say!

"Until you learn the kindness taught by your fellows, neither will you be."

The shifter's breathing came ragged. She couldn't keep still. Her hands shook, fingers twitching. Her head swiveled, eyes darting about, searching for a comforting face among the crowd but finding only stern faces and angry glares. Not a single small smile or soft expression met her frantic face. Aureja was dead, after all.

The guards venture close to grab hold of each arm.

"No. . . Please, no, please don't do this! My lady! My goddess, please I have served you faithfully my entire life!"

No response.
Her face was splotched red with hot tears. The guards forced her to her feet.

"I only wish to serve you, my lady, I swear it! I only want to protect your people! My people!"

Nothing.

The guards began to haul her backwards, towards the edge of the circle, but she refused to be moved so easily. Thrown out of town by Cyndabrynde herself. . . Had she truly fallen so low that even the Mother of Spring would toss her aside?

Out of sheer desperation and complete terror of total abandonment, Vyara took a step forward and dragged the guards with her. She didn't want to be left alone. She couldn't be. If Cyndabrynde cast her out, she would have no one. She would become a mere husk of flesh and blood and bone with no one to care for her name.

She couldn't let that happen.

The tears poured freely now, ruining her vision, but she glanced towards the varied party anyway and saw a hulk of green skin and the beautiful Sumennans at its side. Her eyes returned to the priestess, full of sorrow and sincerity.

"I promise... I-I swear it, my lady, I swear I will do anything you ask! I will learn! I'll be kind and peaceful, I will! I will lay down my sword and life for you, great Mother, just. . . Please! Don't. . .!"

Don't send me away.

"That is enough, shape changer," one of the guards commanded. He was all cold steel, but hurried and upset that the shifter brought their actions this far in the presence of their goddess. This was Her temple, a place of reverence and peace; to think that a fellow Mystlander would act so defiant while claiming to be so zealous within it was more than a little unnerving.

"Hold."

The guards froze, Vyara along with them. All eyes latched onto the holy elf.

". . . To learn requires guidance, shape changer, and a guide you shall have--in the form of our daylighter guests. Attend them at all times. Learn to wield a tolerant mind as well as your sword, and welcome you may be."

The faraway look off the priestess slid at last from the leopard's face to the air within the room as she awaited the next appraisal.

The guards' hold loosened and they slid their arms away, but pinned her instead with stern stares that watched her every move. Vyara remained where she stood a moment longer, hardly breathing at all.

Attend them at all times.

Attend the Sumennans. Learn from the Sumennans. Let the Sumennans be her guides.

She could scarcely believe it. She didn't want to. Let her enemy teach her patience and acceptance and peace?! That couldn't possibly work! But the Mother's every whisper was the will of Vyara and compliance her only option. And so, her presence in this village too precarious to risk, she left the light at last and stood beside the half-dwarf. She kept her eyes trained on the floor.

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

 

[Nevina]

Song had not been distracted at Falsedge's attempts of redirection, and was indeed about to push inquiry when the sound of further judgment caught her attention. The Cyndaran who glared so sharply was going up after yet another so easily passed, huh? It came as a surprise, then, to see what transpired.

They would remove one of their own for being violent and unkind? Thoughts inevitably flashed back to her own society, it's laws dictating and upholding cruelty that she had so publicly rejected. Song didn't hate Cyndara, she'd never felt a need to hate it, but it's creatures weren't particularly attractive, stories illustrated their inferiority, their lands were dark and unwelcoming.. it was clearly not a country to look up to in any manner. Yet here stood a respected speaker of their community saying words that she herself had shared sentiments to just a few weeks prior. She wasn't sure what to make of it just yet.

The light fae leaned back over to her companion, her eyebrows pinched with renewed concern as she whispered, "Extinguish your bloodlust, Khuda, for you must pass." She certainly wasn't about to lose the only one who had proven to be willing and capable of guarding her, even if she still despised said other woman.

As if to prove a point, Song stepped forward and respectfully pulled back her hood, offering herself up to be judged. The others hadn't spoken first, so she didn't either. She stood in a similar manner as the priestess so as not to risk offense. She held herself like a mirror, blending in as best she could by emulating those who already belonged. It was a common technique for fitting in at court; observe and adapt to survive. Was there to be a cost? She shook off unbidden memories of her standing apart, defiant to the masses, and forced herself to focus on the now. Such thoughts of grandeur weren't well suited for survival, after all.

The priestess nodded with an otherworldly acknowledgment of greeting, her voice reaching, "I witness your heart as it absolves you from from any desire of bringing harm to other souls. The grudge you bear, however, only serves to blind you. You are welcome here."

She gave a small bow of respect as she stepped back. Grudge? Song blinked, pleased to have clearly passed, but baffled. She didn't hold any grudge towards Cyndara. It hadn't exactly done anything to her other than introduce flora and fauna that tried to eat them on occasion, but she wasn't holding a grudge against Cyndara for it's poor taste in nature. She also didn't hold it against them for pointing arrows in their faces; she understood why they did it, and also understood that they weren't killed on sight. What grudge?

Still mystified, she found her place beside Falsedge once more, gold eyes focused on the masked woman.

 

[The Suspicious Eye]

Lenore | Wood Elf Village - Temple

Making her way over to Desrick's side she listed to the elven man, called elder Grims. His words were far from brotherly love that their people should hold. Her brow narrowed as she did not appreciate the thoughtless jabs towards him. Gritting her teeth she was about to give this elf a lesson in manners. Yet to her surprise Desrick began to lose his own temper and call him exactly what she wanted to. Their rage was quenched as the priestess spoke up and called to the Sumennans to face their appraisal. Lenore gave elder Grims one more stony look and then stepped closer to see and hear the appraisals.

Standing and listeneing she felt a weight upon her from somewhere in the room. Looking around Lenore's eyes rested on the new Sumennans. Raising a brow noticed that these new Summerlanders weren't just all that. She saw one of her won kind, a fae like herself, younger and bursting with light energy. She must be a child of light, Lenore thought to herself her memory of the other fae's of her time soured her mood. After her eight hundred year rest there was a clear reason as to why she did not return to those of her kind. Back then it was unfamiliar for Fae to be so close and Lenore was no different, she was born alone and it was those apart from her race who raised her. Her time with the Fae started after her master's passing and ended shortly after. Meeting the light fairy's eyes Lenore's cheeks flushed and she quickly turned away. Taking a deep breath, to steady her heart, she looked around yet again at the temple of her Goddess and gave a soft smile. I shouldn't think such things here. Here there is peace and wisdom. More and more of the Sumennans passed as she was deep in thought.

Her feet began to move on their own, Lenore unaware of their destination let her mind wander from the past and focus on the stone above them all. Until she found herself under the light and standing in front of the priestess. Lenore startled in shock as she heard the calm voice of the priestess so close to her ear. Words ringing with wisdom and truth the priestess looked Lenore in the eyes and gave a soft smile. "You believe you have betrayed your kind, your people and your home for a empty cause. However, you were pursuing for a peace not ready to be heard. You've awakened after the long centuries to realize that vision of peace. It is time for you to teach, earth child."

Lenore looked into the priestess's eyes as her body trembled. Those words were something that she never knew she desperately wanted to hear. That all the loved ones and relationships that she lost were not for nothing, that her love and what she tried to accomplish centuries ago was not a sin. Tears fell down her cheeks as she went to cover her face and nodded accepting the priestess's advice. Stepping back from the warm spotlight above her she fell into the tender embrace of the temple's shadows to compose herself.

SilverFlight velleity Flutterby @Brendanfp Mythee Nevina deer @HumansArentReal

 

[Mythee]

Falsedge nearly spit in her half-mask over the openly hostile Cyndaran's shock at the verdict. How daft could she be not to have realized that there was no way she'd pass for a peaceful citizen if all she did was ooze hatred? Having beheld much worse than this show of escorting the devastated troublemaker out, and having inflicted much worse than it too, the dramatic scene didn't tug at anything else than the war djinn's funny bone. Ahh, if she remembered that clueless face for later she'd get to laugh at it. Here she remained appropriately quiet, albeit with amusement creasing the corner of her eyes.

Song's words came out of seemingly nowhere. Heh. Of course! Her 'bloodlust' would be a source of worry, wouldn't it.
"I'll have you know, I find violence distasteful." She said jokingly- even though the words were true to her heart, it would sound like a bad jest to anyone who had ever witnessed her at work. Yet, those so-called bloodthirsty actions had been nothing more than the cool-headed execution of her will, as artificial as Evereach's concept of justice itself.
The light fae passed the appraisal, and Falsedge was treated to another clueless look.
"She means me." She stage whispered helpfully, leaning sideways toward Song's poofy hair- though she had only an inkling that this could be what the words had meant.

A more cryptic appraisal took place for the dark fae, who was the next to walk forward; it sounded like there was an interesting story there.
Finally, the priestess nodded toward the war djinn, motioning her forward. Well then. Finally Falsedge's turn to approach into the moonlight, the sound of her armored boots echoing in the chamber. A strange compulsion sept outward from this place. She steeled her psyche, wary of charms and illusions to manipulate the mind. These priestesses may wield precisely that kind of fearsome power, from what she had seen earlier with the elven elder, and now, with this.

For a moment, the priestess' eyes tightened as if pained, but she spoke with compassion.
-"Rarely has one with such truth and kindness in their heart been led so astray. Your anger has been cast at such terrible cost to your soul. Your strength has become your torment; weakness becomes your salvation. But you do not seek salvation."
Falsedge felt a chill go up her spine, nearly bristling. It felt offensive, for something so personal and hidden to be brought into the open in such a manner. Last time someone had found out about her true intentions, she had ensured their permanent silence so that she could continue sowing the seeds of dissent unimpeded from her important post. But she had no crucial position to defend. In these lands, it made no difference to be understood or not; her initial silence passed into surprised laughter. This heart-reading business was the real deal.
"Noble priestess, if I may speak, forgive me for having shown you such an ugly sight."
The guards at the door readied themselves, though unsure for what.
-"You misunderstand the Goddess; you may remain here, as you would not harm our people. These are my own words, not Hers, but if there is something I could convey- all of the injustice of the world does not fall upon your shoulders."
Heh, is that what the goddess wanted people to think? 'It's ok to try for less, we're only mortals after all'?
"Too few take responsibility. Some of us have to pick up the slack."
The priestess recognized this track of thought. It was not the first or last time she would come face to face with a zealot such a this. They would choose death and eternal struggle over inner peace, and desperation always drove them down the wrong path... but she had faith in Cyndabrynde's decision. She smiled gently.
-"You are kind."
Falsedge balked, then hung her head. This priestess was going to ruin her temples' reputation, saying that line so earnestly to SHE of all people.
"Please. Don't embarrass me."
-"We will do our utmost. If you would visit us again, Cyndabrynde wishes to offer guidance for all struggles, regardless of their origin. It seems we have many who need guidance today."
The robed woman looked over to Vyara, giving her an almost motherly smile- no doubt apologetic for the way the guards had behaved earlier.

SilverFlight Nevina deer idalie Flutterby velleity Brendanfp The Suspicious Eye Zazz

 

[deer]

O

nce the platform arrived to its final destination, Rossarinya stared anxiously at the bridge they had to cross. Taking a deep breath, Rossarinya slowly made her way across the bridge, being careful to not trip over anyone else. Thankfully, Rossarinya's attention was brought back towards Lohrithe when he began to churn different questions one-by-one, especially about the sun. A small giggle escaped her lips as she shook her head, not able to help herself from finding such a child-like innocence from his inquiries. However, before Rossarinya could answer his misunderstanding about the sun, her attention was brought back towards Desrick's low, rumbling stern voice.

With a slight skip of her heart, Rossarinya stood frozen as she gazed blankly at the arrow held in Desrick's palm. His words echoed in her ears as she merely subconsciously nodded her head. He pulled the arrow out from one of his people. The She-Elf told that sentence to herself over and over again in her mind like a chant, trying to make sense of the claim. Her fingers shook slightly as she felt the world spin slowly around her. Rossarinya refused to believe that the arrow, her people's arrow, was found in Cyndara. It made no sense to her as a part of her felt defensive, ready to defend. She was afraid of what the results could mean or the aftermath of such horror. Rossarinya shook her head fearing for her family, especially her brothers. How did the arrow get to Cyndara? Had they been lied to? Although all evidence pointed at the make-shift arrow that belonged to House Evereach, Rossarinya found herself stumped at the statement. Desrick didn't ask if she recognised the arrow, he knew she had. Of course, why wouldn't she? Rossarinya had no intentions of hiding the fact that those arrows belonged to their Head House. But, what could she do when she had no answer, no reasoning? The Elves couldn't have been in Cyndara. She and her company were told that it was only them who had crossed the borders. No one else. Deep in her heart, Rossarinya knew that despite her constant inner war with herself that her people couldn't do such a thing, within her core, Rossarinya just didn't want to face the solemn truth that she wouldn't put it past them to pull a stunt like that. Lies. Betrayal. Mistrust. All shrouded by a facade - a mask that the light could never reveal even when it was as clear as day.

Not able to utter a word, Rossarinya quietly walked behind the rest of the company, keeping to herself as felt tense and paranoid. Her eyes wandered before the sight of the Temple of Cyndara rested upon her eyes. The bright light seemed to envelop her entire being as Rossarinya sucked in a breath, swallowing shallowly as she stared in awe and fear. Her emerald green eyes gave way to what she was feeling: animosity, concern, and worry as she found it harder to move with each moment that passed. Her muscles stiffened and her throat became dry as a desert as she bit her lips. All warning bells flashed in her head as she fought the urge to run. Rossarinya's eyes began to water as she felt the bright light almost tickling against her skin. Tearing her eyes away as she shut her eyes, Rossarinya allowed her other sense to takeover.

Hearing Desrick's words of needing an appraisal from the Priestess before going further, Rossarinya slowly stepped back, trying to find the nearest exist. She wanted nothing to do with temples and those that resides inside. The small flash of memory flickered in her mind as she sucked in another breath, resisting the urge to panic. Her lips trembled and her body shook slightly. However, she was grateful that the others were too focused on what was ahead that they hadn't noticed her freak out. As Rossarinya tried to find a source to keep her mind from overthinking too much, her eyes opened slowly as she nervously looked around, hearing Ora's question before taking note of the Gwynn's attempt of speaking to the shape-changer. Furrowing her brows slightly, Rossarinya almost tilted her head in curiosity before more wood elves appeared and in followed two more Summenans.

However, before Rossarinya could get a good look at them, her curiousity subsided as she found her eyes landing on Lohrithe, wanting to fall back where he stood, away from the light. A light Elf afraid of the light? How unheard of. She thought to herself as she looked up, a grim smile appearing on her face as she believed someone up there, whoever it was, had it in for her. But, Rossarinya did as she was told silently, placing her bags and bow and arrow down as she stepped to cross further towards the temple, listening to instructions to a tee. But as Rossarinya made her way over, she jumped slightly, hearing the loud shouts of an older Elf, screaming insults towards Desrick. Her eyes saw clearly the hatred and distaste on the Elf's lips.

Rossarinya's eyes tore away from the scene as she bit her lips, closing her eyes as she slowly whispered to herself. Little blue birds fly high in the sky. The continuation of the mantra that seemed to calm her down whenever she felt herself slipping away from sanity. A sudden urge to cover her ears and cower away made way towards her need as she wished for the older Elf to stop his shouting. She knew all to well the feeling of exclusion and being screamed at. It only made her shy into herself more. Soon after what felt like hours on end, the Elf was shut up by none other than the Priestess.

However, relief couldn't escape her soul as she felt compelled and drawn to the light. The walk inside the temple felt gruesome and tiring on Rossarinya as she patiently fidgeted and waited for her appraisal. One by one her companions stood before the Priestess and one by one the Priestess said her peace towards them. There were so many intrigue and mystique that surrounded those she was accompanied by. However, Rossarinya found herself distraught knowing her mind, soul, and heart would be picked at again once more.

Rossarinya stood behind, her heart dropping with each second that passed as she watched the shape-changer's appraisal and her pleas. Her eyes tore away once more, refusing to look at the scene as she felt water well around her eyes. The desperate sound of a desperate call from the shape changer tore her heart apart as she imagined herself being in those shoes despite the shape changer and her case being different from the other. Rossarinya felt utterly helpless as she tried not to listen to personal appraises by those in her company as she sighed to herself. The words of the Priestess were filled with raw emotions and advices that held a deeper meaning than Rossarinya could dare imagine. Each appraisal had their own worth and lessons and Rossarinya couldn't help but tremble knowing her turn was coming. But, what caught her attention once more was one of the newer arrivals of the group. She seemed confident with a slight edge that showed her brawns and courage. Rossarinya gazed up at the Summenan, looking over her features as she curiously stared not sure what her origins were. The second new arrival was also different - a light fairy and Rossarinya couldn't help but feel a slight "buzz" spark within her veins as she blinked.

Finally, it was her turn for her own appraisal. As Rossarinya slowly glided towards the center, feeling the light against her, Rossarinya took a deep breath. Her heart pounded against her chest as she felt as if she could hear her heart beating in her ear drums. Her legs felt like jelly as she tried to maintain her balance and composure, hoping she would successfully pass through.

"You are wrong to believe the world is against you. The emptiness you feel will no longer stay until you learn to take a leap of faith and to have courage. What you seek may be closer than you think. Do not let fear make you falter in your quest to seek the truth. But, be warned that the truth is not always what you believe. You may stay and grasp what you need."

Her breath hitched slightly as Rossarinya felt her knees weak. Her composure almost tore down as she stood for a moment, regaining her self-awareness as she slowly made her way away from the center, veering to the far back as she leaned against a wall for support. She saw everything.

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

 

[Flutterby]

Ora's thoughts were broken, right at their apex, by Vyara moving past her to be appraised. The skin-changer now walked with a swagger, a haughty look in her eyes. It made Ora shift uncomfortably, sneaking a glance up at the priestess. Her face was not as soft as it had been addressing Lohr, which peaked Ora's interest.
As interested as she was, she almost couldn't watch the next few moments. Rejected by the goddess, the shapeshifter grew upset, hysterical even. The pain, betrayal, and confusion were plain as day, er.. night, in her voice. Ora averted her eyes, memories of her own ten-year-old self being dragged from the castle of her birth springing to the forefront of her mind. Her jaw tightened.
Just when Ora was truly considering stepping forward, the priestess spoke again, and halted the situation. The half-dwarf let out her breath slowly, and looked up to stare at the priestess. She had moved her eyes away, looking for the next person already. The skin-changer came to stand next to Ora.
Without looking at her, without giving any indication that her words were for Vyara, she said softly, "Nothing worse than rejection from your home. You will be welcome again, sooner rather than later." Half of her hoped it would be too soft for Vyara to hear.
The pieces of this skin-changer were beginning to fall together, the overwhelming tide of hate falling in step with this new wave of love for the goddess. She wasn't a violent psycho- she was a religious zealot. There was a difference, even though many people didn't think so.
velleity
The appraisals of the light elf and of Lenore were uneventful, but the war djinni's was interesting. She went so far as to have a conversation with the priestess, insisting that the reading of 'truth and kindness' was not correct. What Ora found most interesting was the suggestion that this person was, apparently, chasing down injustice at great personal cost. Sumenna was full of injustice, for people like Ora and below. Perhaps, after this mission..
Rossarinya, as tense as she seemed, passed the appraisal, and Ora glanced around, wondering if they were done. Her eyes fell on Desrick, and her mind flashed back to the arrow. The House of Evereach was not honest. What else did they hide to get us here? Ora's heart skipped a beat, and for the first time, she wished that she had fallen in line with Dwerstand, and allowed the party to lack dwarvish representation.

 

[SilverFlight]

Desrick caught the two new Sumennan's staring at him and met their eyes before he could decide better of it. They each had a similar, eerie beauty possessed of all the light people he'd met recently, though there was a clear diversity even to that. He felt himself leaning into a subtle respect for the tall warrior woman, almost similar in build and bearing to an orc.
All the same however, he couldn't help but wither a little under their inquisitive gazes, shifting uncomfortably he turned away, once they were appraised, he would feel much better about them.
Mythee Nevina

The first to step into the circle of light was a Summenan, the dwarven maid, Ora. The Goddess judged her, and she was found true. Relief rushed in to quell anxiety like rain on parched soil. He'd been right. Some small part of him drew satisfaction of imagining the look of Grims' face when he learned of this.
Flutterby

Lohr was next and Desrick felt a swell of pride and protectiveness when the priestess spoke his heart out loud. Anyone who dared hurt the dark elf he would very happily snap in two.
Zazz

When Vyara was called he didn't know what to think. There was such a storm of emotion on her graceful features that he, at that moment, felt it hard to hold the past marks against her. He began instead to think of how someone so young as that had come to carry so much hatred while still seemingly being so devoted to their goddess. It was beyond him.
The goddess' words didn't surprise him, and he told himself her expulsion was for the best. His heart twisted though as she begged, and he caught a glimpse of a frightened and vulnerable girl.
"Hold."
The word had been on the edge of his own lips, and he was surprised when the voice that came was melodious and female.
It appeared that the skin changer would be with them for longer. She stood by them again, meek and quiet, and Desrick would have reached a hand out to her, if he was more certain she wouldn't still take it off.
velleity

Lenore was next and the goddess' words confused him. 'Centuries'? Surely he'd heard wrong. He made a note to question her later, for now, she needed the time alone and he would be the last one to hinder that.
The Suspicious Eye

The woman warrior was next and Desrick had to admit that is any Sumennan looked like a threat, it was her. She too passed however and it seemed that the goddess had surprised for each as they stood in her light.
Mythee

Desrick took his turn as the others did, though he had been through this several times before (mostly to satisfy those on the council that found orcs less than civilized). The reading was a familiar one:
"You strive to be the bonds that hold what you love together, but do not let your love of your people blind you to truth."
He was about to turn and go when the priestess spoke one more time:
"There are tests ahead Desrick. You must heed what you have been told...now more than ever."
That was new. A warning?
Desrick stood back, slight confusion showing on his bullish face.

Now the majority of the party had been appraised, the guards began to direct them through the temple to the other side. They were bade to wait at the main entrance to the temple, overlooking the bright town square. Even from their elevated place at the top of the temple steps they could see the happy bustling of elves down below. A market had been installed at the based of the giant trunk holding the crystal, canvas stalls and tents of every colour displaying exotic fruits and fine clothes. There were musicians at nearly every corner and somehow their different tunes harmonized so everywhere you turned your ears you heard a pleasant melody. There were also entertainers, juggling balls of coloured fire or performing slight of hand for enraptured children. Nearly every face in the crowd belonged to a wood elf, and the diversity within the town was wide: hair colours ranged from gold to black and skin tones from alabaster to copper to a deep, exotic purple. The normal frames were slight and tall, like Crispin, and they moved with the effortless grace of deer.
"Now that you've been appraised," one of the guards began, "you have free leave to move about our town." He presented the basket holding their weapons. Desrick took his axe first, running the feather charm through one of his huge hands before sheathing it.
"You'll find that the people of this town trust the word of the goddess, they will already know you mean no harm, so most will be quite welcoming." Desrick added.
He stretched out an arm and pointed to the far side of the square, to a house underneath the twisted roots of a weeping willow tree, spangled with glowing green fruit.
"That over there is the house of my adoptive parents. When you have explored the town, I invite you there, to eat and rest. We will decide what to do after that."

Zazz deer velleity Brendanfp Mythee Nevina idalie

 

[Nevina]

"You?" Song echoed with disbelief, her reflex instantly kicking in denial. She held a poor opinion of Falsedge, certainly, but it was formed from observation and facts. How could that be a grudge to blind herself from? Lambent law had recently passed a new declaration amidst rising crime: death for the one who steals. Song witnessed such a theft once while doing budget shopping. He was poor and starving in a town with nearly non-existent aid, and the only thing he took was food. He was a product of their system; of course he would resort to theft. Yet such a minor case in a minor part of town involving an equally poor victim should have warranted little attention and a punishment that didn't have to entail death. Loss of fingers perhaps, or simply extended jail time. Yet Falsedge, accompanied by Lambent militia, just happened to be there to witness it alongside her. She exacted Lambent's laws swiftly and publicly--but not before taunting and bullying the man first, drawing in a crowd as a result. His final moments, surrounded by gawkers, militia, and Falsedge, as he begged for forgiveness and cried for his family. What person could show no mercy like that? Song disagreed with many of their laws, but surely the law was meant as a deterrent not to be followed so sharply. It was clear to Song that Falsedge derived morbid pleasure from her job, using their law as an excuse for it. She felt disgusted at the mere memory of it, hating their laws and Falsedge both.

Her reverie was sharply shattered upon the priestess's pronouncement of Falsedge's truth and kindness. What? Haha, oh silly light fae, clearly she misheard! And yet the conversation proceeded as if Song had heard the words perfectly clear. Falsedge? Kind?

The only kindness Falsedge had ever shown was aiding her rescue and not abandoning her out here to die.

Why?

And there it was. The question she had been pointedly ignoring for weeks. The question she didn't want to know the answer to.

"Palm readers, the lot of them. At least it seems we are free to roam." Song spoke to Falsedge with a chipper voice, waving her hand as if to disregard anything stated by the priestess. If only a hand wave was all it took to disregard these unwanted thoughts and unspoken questions. "Well then. Perhaps we should find out what all these other Summenans are here for?"

 

[Flutterby]

Ora followed the group, lagging a little behind. Her chin was heavy, dragging her eyes downward. Everything swarming around in her head made her skin crawl and her mouth dry. Outside, she retrieved her weapons and strapped them back to herself, not looking up at the guards. Her eyes went, instead, to the town in front of them now that they were at the front of the temple.
The crowd looked at first to be a rainbow blur, but after a moment, she was able to discern individuals. Their diversity was nothing like she had ever seen in a single species in Sumenna. Gold and red and brown and purple and.. well, there was a lot of color. Her face was blank as she watched, even though there was a storm of thoughts going on underneath. Her breath caught in her throat, and then she cleared it.

The half-dwarf glanced at the backs of those in front of her, and then said, "I need a stiff drink. Do you have those in Cyndara?" It came out with the bluntness that dwarves had, and it made her frown a little. She didn't like to sound so much like a dwarf.
Her tail unkinked from around her ankle, but it didn't relax- the tip of it lashed back and forth behind her, from one heel to the other.
It did occur to her, that elves typically, at least in Sumenna, were not the rowdy crowd that dwarves could be, and that this might even be an entirely sober community. That would be.. quite the development.
She looked around again, waiting for one of the elf-familiars to answer her question.

 

[Mythee]

The Orc's appraisal came last- another cryptic message. As expected though, Song was unable to accept that frankly pushing it characterization that the war djinn had been subjected to. Palm readers, was it? "Be respectful of the temple, Song." She chuckled at the fae's reticence, not losing a chance to chastise her from some petty moral high ground. But yes, they still had to find out what these others were here for. Nevina
Thinking of which, she noted the elven noble was leaning against the wall of the temple, seemingly unwell. It was understandable for the Summenans to be so unsettled. Having your heart seen through in a foreign land you've been taught was nothing more than a gathering of savages... who could've been prepared for the experience? But now wasn't the time to dawdle. Falsedge passed by near the woman to try to snap her out of it. "Milady, we are leaving." Despite the neutrality of her words, her tone was oddly aggressive as was more customary. deer
She then turned to the basket and retrieved her dual khophesh, slinging her arms back through the straps in a rapid motion and exiting the temple on cue with the others while tightening them. She threw a last look at the mysterious holy place, and at the priestess. Including the Orc's instructions to 'heed what he had been told', there had been a lot of 'imperatives from the Goddess' today. Aren't divine decrees a big deal here? Don't see anyone chiseling the words into a stone tablet.

The Orc- Desrick, she knew, since his name had been spoken earlier- invited them to his home faster than she could even introduce herself. She turned her hands up at him.
"F*ck's sake, you don't even know my name. And you say most Cyndarans are this trusting?" Faith in the goddess or not, this was exaggerated. But also, if it was true... this land was full of surprises for them yet. Perhaps she'd somehow gotten Song to the safest place in the world. What a riot, then, that she had no inclination to let her settle down peacefully in some middle-of-nowhere oasis of easy living and hospitality, away from all the world's struggles. SilverFlight
"Y e s." She added intensely, pointing to the horned woman at her suggestion. Flutterby
It would be a good way to get those introductions over some drinks- even better if the lot would have loose lips under the influence. Falsedge eyed the silver-haired human briefly- she'd have some questions for him especially.

 

[The Suspicious Eye]

Wood Elf Village - Market

LenoreWhat she'd heard from there priestess was overwhelming, she'd never entered a temple like that. She never had her life, her path read so easily before. After leaving the spotlight above her she passed the others and headed towards the entrance. You'd think after centuries alone, one would grow tired of the loneliness however Lenore needed a moment to herself. The pain of her past hurt too much, she couldn't cope. Quickly making her way out of the temple she sidestepped away from the entrance and rested her back against the temple wall. Clutching her heaving chest Lenore tried to steady her breathing as best she could as her tears began to slow. Lifting her gaze from the village before her up to the vast sky. Ever since she'd left that cavern she hadn't truly looked at the sky. It was much grayer than before. Not just the normal dark of the shadow kissed sky of Cyndara, but grayer as if there was a veil of haze over the whole world. She wondered if this was just how the world changed without her. If I was born now, would I even notice?

She gave a soft sigh and wiped the tears from her cheeks. Shaking her head she ran her fingers through her bangs and spoke softly. "Of course not. What of the past would they know?" She paused letting the priestess's words sing though her mind and shook her head. "A teacher though?" She wrinkled her nose as she contemplated teaching this new generation. Shrugging she sighed "...I still don't think it's for me." Thinking back to her past she winced and clutched her heart at the pain, the hatred, the loss she felt, was there really something to gain from it all? After she lost her love, she lost everything that mattered. Was their fight just too early, can she use this pain for something good? Maybe I should try? She'd want me to try. Lenore thought of the woman she loved, to their vow to make this land better for both kinds. She was always braver than herself, always stating that she'd fight the good fight. 'I'll only give up when I'm dead!' She smiled at the memory, how true that was. Letting the temple wall support her weight Lenore lowered her head out to the vast forest she once called home. It's strange to feel so detached from something so familiar. Pushing off the temple wall she stepped towards the edge and stared down at the ground below her.

She looked at the people passing around and smiled as she saw the younger folk playing with each other. Crouching down she smiled at them, she always had a soft spot for children. Well now...I suppose everyone is a child to me. Taking a deep and focused breath she let go of the heavy emotional weight she held since she's woken up. If the priestess was right, then this was her chance to use her past to help those now. "Will doing this help me find you?" Looking out at the passing people she came to her conclusion. Standing up she rolled her shoulders and came up with a plan, her first plan in a very long time. Nodding to herself she turned around and made her way into the temple yet again. Passing by the guards and priestess she stopped and looked at her one last time. "I do not see myself to be fit to teach anyone, but I will strive to be." Giving a polite nod to her she continued through secondary exit. Only to walk in as the Sumenna woman began to rudely talk to Desrick while the dwarf mentioned alcohol. Mythee Flutterby SilverFlight

She let out a heavy sigh, this was typical of Sumenna along with their desire to drink. She never knew what was so interesting in alcohol, she'd rather have a nice cup of herbal tea. Looking up at the woman Lenore tilted her brows in a exasperated manner. "Don't you think that's a bit harsh of a thank you. Shouldn't you be saying 'thank you, Desrick for kindly opening your home to us.' Especially since you and your partner seem to be here out of necessity. Not a peace party." Looking up and down at the woman it was easy to tell she was not apart of the Sumennas they helped this one looked fit for killing, not protecting. "Be thankful you are being welcomed. If you had entered this land in my time, you'd been killed on site. Times certainly have changed here for us all, take heed of your fellow Sumennas and make sure it is for the better." Looking at her for a moment she brushed past the woman and made her way to Desrick's side, the earth below her blackening under her own control and rising up to attach upon her. Her horns and armor formed around her as she smiled to him stepping to his side her tail finished forming and flicked playfully against a leaf. It had been a long time since she felt whole. She was glad that her magic was finally returning to her, it was much faster than she expected. Far from being one hundred percent, she could feel herself grow stronger as did her resolve. Then again after accepting her memories and this new task, everything seems easier.

Zazz deer velleity Brendanfp Mythee Nevina idalie

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[deer]

E

verything came to her as a blur as she zoned in and out listening to Desrick's appraisal. She didn't know how long she had stood in the background by being just there. Not moving an inch. Frozen. However, her ears perked and her eyes lifted over when she felt someone towering over her, much less speak to her. Furrowing her brows, Rossarinya blinked back her initial surprise as she stared at the Summenan warrior before her. Rossarinya could barely hear others but when this woman spoke, she heard it as clear as day. Maybe it was the fact that she took initiative to actually tell her that their company was starting to clear out of the temple. Her heart leaped as if life breathed back into her soul. They were leaving. The women's tone was aggressive yet it didn't cause a shiver down her spine. Instead, Rossarinya merely gazed in awe, a feeling of familiarity in her tone as she had been given such a tone before by one other: Braxius.

A small smile made way to her lips as she followed behind the foreign Summenan woman. Grabbing her bow and arrow along with her bag, Rossarinya blinked at the arrowheads once more before sighing, strapping her items around her back as she moved fluidly behind. Rossarinya looked ahead and never turned back. She could only whisper a small, Thank you before finding refuge and relief in leaving the temple. As Rossarinya found her wits again, she took a deep breath, finding herself focusing back and coming back down to the land of the living. Her eyes roamed as she looked down below, seeing the colorful blur. Her eyes widened in surprise and wonder as she found her smile slowly widening genuinely. The stalls in the marketplace, the sound of children laughing, and the overall atmosphere reminded her of home. The market place had always eased her, especially when she took note of all the crystals, silk, and jewelry. Excitement surged through her bones as she was curious to see what sort of items were sold in Cyndara. She could only imagine the foreign beauty of it all. The music echoed in her ears as she closed her eyes, listening to the sound as it slowly seemed to soothe her aching heart.

Turning her attention towards Ora's voice, she tilted her head to the side. Stiff drink? Rossarinya was never one to drink, much less, had ever a sip of any alcoholic beverages or been in places that contained such liquor. She was always forbidden to let such liquid come close to her lips but she wasn't home, was she? Nodding, Rossarinya couldn't help but agree, a drink sounds perfect. "That sounds. . . wonderful, especially right about now. I never had such a drink before, but, maybe having my first drink in Cyndara is a memory to remember? She questioned out-loud, not really directing it to anyone. "I could only imagine the stories to tell!"

At hearing the words palm readers from the light fairy, Rossarinya stared inquisitively. She had never had her palm read before, but had always wondered what it was like. Did they have those in Cyndara? Did the light fairy know how to read palms as well? Many questions plagued her mind.

However, Rossarinya's eyes landed on the Summenan warrior once more, hearing her rough yet sarcastic speech in regards to Desrick welcoming his home towards them, strangers, Summenans. Rossarinya could only hear the guard's voice in her head. You are welcomed here. Everyone knows you mean no harm. No one takes the Priestess' words lightly. She was such an influence. However, Rossarinya was brought out of her thoughts when she heard the dark fairy's scolding.

Knitting her brows together, Rossarinya could only stand away from the dark fairy as she watched the ground beneath her feet darken and magic seemed to have flowed towards her. A part of her was hesitant to speak to the wise fairy as she reminded her of her own . . . . mother, but the other part of her could only imagine the experiences she had gone through. Would she be able to help her?

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

 

[Zazz]

To the blue-haired woman's possible dismay, Lohrithe did not turn away from her mangled face, nor did he give her any inkling of disgust. No, he was intrigued. Was she born as such, or did something happen to her? Why did she grin in such a manner - why did she even show him - and why did she hide it from her companion with such a beautiful, ornate mask? Lohrithe was curious, but had no time before he took his turn before the priestess.

Outside the temple, they looked down upon the bustling market, and he could see Desrick's house. Lohrithe smiled, for it was bigger than most to accommodate his size. The drow glanced back, unsure if he should wait for the healer, Eirianwen, but was brought back outside when Falsedge mocked Desrick's invitation. He looked to Lenore as she spoke, and then to Desrick for his response.

 

[SilverFlight]

Desrick grinned at Falsedge's ( Mythee ) obvious discomfort with the hospitality.
"Knowing your name does not tell me who you are." He said sagely. "But the Goddess has found you true, and we know her well."
Lenore's ( The Suspicious Eye ) stern admonishment brought a deep throaty chuckle out of him too.
"I've no idea what passes for manners in Sumenna, but they can be forgiven the lack of Cyndara's for the time being."
To Ora ( Flutterby ) he smiled, "Heda's brewery has the finest mead and ale to be had West of the grasslands. I would go there for a drink. In fact! I will join you. After these past few marks, I could also use it."
He hadn't meant to glance at Vyara, but the young skinchanger was looking as dour and hopeless as she had been before.
Rossarinya ( deer ) seemed keen too.
"That's the spirit! Word will have traveled fast regarding your arrival, and your appraisal. I think you find the attitude of most here more agreeable than Elder Grims.

The elder was still there, scowling in the shadows outside the torchlight, but Desrick was happy to ignore him. Now that they had the goddess' blessing he wouldn't dare lift a hand against them while they were here.

Desrick moved to take the lead, clapping Lohr ( Zazz ) on the shoulder as he went. "Come, we should show these lightlanders how to make merry Cyndara style."
Crispin had been watching the proceedings with great interest and slipped in behind his brother, grinning at Lohr too as he passed.
"What a day eh? I'm so glad you lot don't breathe fire like the stories say." He then leaning in conspiratorially and said in a low voice, "Now, at Heda's they'll try and give you their 'special brew' first, don't take it. Oh it's fine by general standards, but the one you really want to try is their honey rose ale..."
Crispin continued to impart his in-depth knowledge of the drinks at Heda's as they began to make their way down the wood steps and into the square.
The crystal was even bigger than they could have imagined, towering above them, big and bright and underneath it a myriad of entertainers sung, played and danced. The mood was infectious. Some of the people stopped and stared as the small group appeared, others backed away, but most, after a quick, quiet discussion with their neighbours and a few looks of disbelief, approval began to grow amongst the people gathered. These lightlanders had been giving the blessing of the goddess, so the threat was gone, instead there was left only insatiable curiosity and abject awe.
Zazz Flutterby The Suspicious Eye Brendanfp Nevina Mythee velleity deer

((Feel free to orchestrate some events with the npcs))

 

[Mythee]

When Mc.Lost-My-Shirt returned the sight of her disfigurement with nothing more than curiosity, there was only one conclusion she could make. This man has seen some sh*t. Zazz

deer It seemed the frail noblewoman was well enough to follow them out, good- Falsedge entirely missed her smile, having turned her gaze elsewhere by then, curiosity stirred by the return of the dark-haired girl as she came back inside to declare something to the priestess. What, exactly, did she expect she'd be teaching, to get her so worked up? The Suspicious Eye

She found out soon enough when the girl allowed herself to rebuke Falsedge over the culture shock she'd expressed- rather patronizingly, as if speaking to a child. This elicited a tinny sputter of air as she stifled her laughter. Was this another Song, accustomed to looking down on others, or was she simply bad at this- thus justifying her earlier insecurity? How diligent of you, already doing as the Goddess asked. Aside from the distinct lack of introductions around here, something else she'd said got Falsedge's attention. 'If you had entered this land in my time, you would have been killed'... very curious. How had times changed in Cyndara, exactly? They knew so little about this land.
'Knowing your name does not tell me who you are', had said the Orc- which she now knew as Desrick, thanks to the girl scolding her.
"Heh, well-put. Regardless..." SilverFlight
The tall woman turned away from him toward the dark-haired girl, bowing in the manner of a soldier accustomed to interaction with nobles as she took the opportunity to get the ball rolling for greetings and presentations. "Charmed. I am your humble student in manners, Falsedge. How may I address my teacher...? -Okay, that is impressive magic." The latter comment was made referring to the way matter had spontaneously formed extra garb and appendages for this literally otherworldly girl.

To her satisfaction, it looked like the others were on-board with the pub idea as well. It looked like they would soon find out what passed for ale around here. The more he spoke, the more Falsedge couldn't help but like Desrick, whose amicability, even temper and reasonable attitude already cued him in to her as more civilized than the majority of the Summenans that would call him a simple monster. Also- damn, that tusked grin was infectuous. She couldn't simply enjoy the walk through these active and merry streets, however, as she prowled forth with the mindset of an investigator, not participating in the discussion of alcoholic beverages more than was necessary to make it look like she was paying attention as she noted the reactions of those around them, traced a mental map of their surroundings and the path they wove through it, and heavily suspected that the elder wasn't beyond orchestrating the kind of plot that would get the Summenans out of his town. What kind of danger would this pose to them and to Song? His type... might be one she was familiar with.

It was a little off-putting, in contrast, that so many of the gazes from the people around them were so devoid of hostility. How much sway did their religous authority have over the hearts of their people, to make this kind of reception possible?
What was Cyndara?

 

[Flutterby]

Ora glanced between the beings speaking, her eyes a little wider than normal. She was really not used to this much interaction in a day. Or in a week. Her energy and patience for being social was beginning to run low.
She gave Desrick a slow nod, and followed the group down to the bustling market. Crispin had returned, and begun chattering about the drinks they would find at Heda's. She took note of his first few sentences, although it wasn't really anything she wasn't familiar with- everywhere tried to sell visitors on the cheaper stuff off the bat. The half-dwarf had a hard time looking around her and listening at the same time, so she decided she would ask for a more specific recommendation when she got there, and focused on observing those observing her.

Her eyes lingered, for a very long time, on the giant, glowing crystal. It was like a jewel, lit within by some kind of magic. The magic of Cyndara was so strange. She wanted nothing more than to go to the stone and lay her have in it.. When she finally tore her eyes away, she found herself accidentally meeting the eyes of those looking back at her.
These elves were beautiful, too, in their way. She found their tall, graceful frames as intimidating as their summerland counterparts, but somehow found comfort in the way their colors resembled her own. She didn't like being looked at though, and hid her tail away behind her leg.
There was music all around them, music like she hadn't heard since her childhood. She was staring across at a musician, playing some kind of wind instrument, when a bright red toy of some kind tumbled into her path.
Ora gasped, having to make a small jump to avoid stepping on it, her tail sticking out and steadying her body as she landed. Ora turned and stared at her appendage for a heartbeat. It had never been useful before...
The sound of small feet scuffling made her look up again. An elf-child, basically as tall as Ora already but clearly young, was approaching the toy. She froze, when Ora looked at her, a pair of deep purple eyes widening. Ora froze too, but she was the one to break the spell. The half-dwarf stepped forward, scooping up the toy and holding it out to the child. The elf met her halfway, and Ora set the object into her rust-colored hand. Ora smiled, all the way to her eyes, but turned before the child could thank her and continued on.

 

[The Suspicious Eye]

Wood Elf Village - Market

LenoreListening to the orc chuckle she couldn't help but give a soft smile herself. Listening to his response she shrugged and replied. "I'll tell you now Desrick they are not too far from our own. A bit more bowing and long winded titles, but gratitude is certainly shared among the lands. There are truly not many differences between our two people." Lenore said a bit sternly as she looked over to Falsedge her eyes sharp but calm. As if she carried a cold pity for the Sumennan, which she did. Never was cruelty or hatred ever held in Lenore's heart, but she certainly was not pushover. Recalling Sumennan warriors of the past they values strength and skill, and the more one had the ruder they became. Though her last meeting with them was centuries ago she was certain that of all the attributes of a warrior that remained. With the manners this warrior showed she was clearly quite skilled. As the muscular woman responded Lenore couldn't help but raise a brow as she showed her true manners.

A gentle and somewhat surprised smile grew on her face as she bowed in the way of a Sumernnan noble. She knew it was not the way for a noble to bow to a soldier, however, she wanted to at least show that the fae knew of their customs. Giggling softly as the Sumennan complimented her magic she gave a soft nod. "Thank you. I'm nothing as noble as noble as a teacher, but merely a traveler. You may call me Lenore, Ms. Falsedge. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." Her tail swayed softly as a spark of purple mana sparked though the stone tail and quelled at the tip. Her eyes sparked with the same mana as she adjusted her wight. "You and your people are safe here. We will assure that." Locking over to the light fae Lenore took a deep breath and had to remind herself that this fae was not like the ones of old. "It is strange to see one of my distant kin here. Be sure not to shine too brightly in this land of shadow, lest you become a beacon for those you wish to hide from. The light fae are much different here than you'd expect."

Letting those words rest Lenore watched as Desrick and the others went to go drink in a nearby brewery. She wasn't one for spirits of that sort, but she supposed some merriment was in store. Besides she wanted to see more of this strange future that she found herself in. Folioing along with the others she looked around at the brewery with awe, her tail swaying low against the floor with intrigue. Little did she know that she was wagging her tail a bit too fiercely and accidentally hit a larger elf man leading him to spill his drink.

"Oi!" The elf man called out turning around to see who knocked his drink over. Seeing no one he looked confused.

"Oh! I'm terribly sorry. I haven't had my tail in a very long time." Lenore said as she looked up at the man.

The man looked down at the fairy and raised a fine brow at the small girl. Reaching out a large palm he patted her shoulder and smiled. "No trouble lass. You enjoy yourself here. Ya hear?"

Lenore chuckled as he called her lass and nodded. "Thank you sonny. You as well." With that she followed along with the rest of her group and watched them take their drinks. Lenore was without money so she would only enjoy their festivities from the sidelines.

Mythee Flutterby SilverFlight Zazz deer velleity Brendanfp Mythee Nevina idalie

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