Fantasy Setting Summer Dawn

[SilverFlight]

"The sun is beautiful true." Pyrrhus replied, "however I can't help but miss the stars..."
When Quinn began speaking of Sumenna and detailing the cities he listened eagerly, the wonder painted clearly in his blue eyes.
"It sounds like the bustle of the cities has captured your heart." He observed with a smile. "I can't wait to see them."
He thought about her question for a moment.
"Most large settlements are like Delan, but if you think that is small, then your cities must be more like Myst, the capital city of Cyndara. Now that really is filled to the brim with people. The markets are absolutely teaming with everything you could imagine, and it boasts the largest and most beautiful temple dedicated to our goddess. I've had the pleasure of performing in Myst on several occasions. There are theaters with seats raised almost to the tree tops!"
His eyes brightened as an idea alighted in his thoughts. "If there are any plays in Brynson we must go and see one! We'd have to convince Iolas of course, going without him might put my cover in jeopardy, but I'm sure we could manage that between us."
He looked down at her, putting on a hopeful expression. "Would you like to see a play with me?"
Yatasal
mentioned: LazyDaze

Desrick started when Azaria's steps sounded behind him. His hand went instantly to the haft of his axe, but he relaxed again when he saw her. He took the map with a nod of thanks.
"That is very valuable information. I'm sure we'll need it." He put the map carefully away.
"What can you tell me about Brynson? Ora described it as a human city."
Desrick turned and walked with a slow amble back to the fire. He had anticipated that his Cyndaran teammates might need time adjusting to the new environment. He knew it might make some uncomfortable and wanted to make sure they were coping.
"Trileon." He said her name to get her attention up from sharpening arrows. "Thank you for fetching the wood. How are you faring?"
Zazz mothspit

 

[Zazz]

Azaria turned to walk with him, fingering one of her daggers' hilts. "Brynson is.... very human, indeed. Their military is grand, but they do still enjoy the arts. Statues and the likes. Nothing like Cyndara." The assassin took up a seat by the fire once more and pulled out her throwing knives, sharpening just the tips, leaving the sides dull.

 

[Yatasal]

"Would you like to see a play with me?"

Quinn laughed, and spoke before her mind could catch up. "I'd love to. I haven't seen a play since..." Her voice trailed off, and she quickly realized that she could've revealed too much about herself. She cleared her throat, and turned the conversation away from herself. "Well, I haven't seen one in awhile. Did you perform in plays much in Myst?"
Noting Trileon by the fire, Quinn felt a small pang of worry for her... friend? No, not really friend. But still, the closer they all got to Summena the quieter Trileon grew. She was about to call to her when Desrick did that for her. She watched Trileon's reaction carefully, wondering why the beastwoman was nervous about entering the Summerlands. Perhaps it was because of her appearance, or because of the tales she'd heard. What tales had Cyndarans told each other about Summena? If they were anything close to what Summenans said about Cyndara, Quinn didn't really want to know. She turned back to Pyrrhus, listening to his answer.

SilverFlight

 

[mothspit]

"Thank you for fetching the wood. How are you faring?"

Trileon jumped slightly at the mention of her name. She wasn't expecting the aparent leader of this group to address her, of all people. He gave off an air of confidence and natural-born instinct that she definitely did not have. It was intimidating, but in a good way. Structure was good, especially for a mission like this one. She wasn't the fighting type; It helped having an authoritative figure around.

She looked up from the ground, setting down her arrow and stones, "..As well as anyone else, I suppose." She gave a half-hearted shrug. The woman had only known these people for a few days, and a part of her wasn't ready to reveal the information that was plaguing her mind. At least, not something so deeply personal. Maybe when they got further into the summerlands.

"It is so strange, leaving the forest." She sighed, "A part of me is eager to cross the border, to see the other side of the world I've been blind to. But.."

She trailed off, her lips curling downward into a solemm frown, "..People are going to get hurt, aren't they?"

It wasn't a question she was sure she wanted answered. She figured Desrick didn't need to-- The end goal alone implied that. Stealing the crystal back, learning of Everreach's plans.. there was no way the elves would let them waltz in and take it. A battle was inevitable. She just hoped nobody innocent would get involved.

SilverFlight

 

[LazyDaze]

It felt wrong. He could not stop thinking about Pyrrhus and the entire situation. He had just met everyone there, but somehow he could not shake this lingering feeling. He could not tell exactly what went through his mind, but it was difficult for him to interact with him as he once did, even if it was brief. As he sat alone trying to control his thoughts, Lohrithe sat next to him and to his surprise offered him a red fruit. Iolas took a moment to comprehend the action. He was not entirely sure if he was here to watch him, or if he was providing a friendly gesture. It could be both. In all honestly the dark elf made him a bit uncomfortable...well elves in general. It was his dark elf step father that set him on the path that he walks today, and he feels an insurmountable wave of guilt whenever he sees one. In fact, all elves made him a bit uncomfortable.

Iolas took the red sac fruit and gave a small nod. "Thank you, to what do I owe this honor?" Iolas took a bite, he had picked a good one indeed. As his attention was on Lohrithe he had heard Pyrrhus mention a play. He shot him a friendly glance as if to affirm his hidden question and then returned to eating his fruit. It was the least he could do; moreover, relaxing and watching a play might be something he needed himself.

He then returned his focus to his "lunch", and the drow.

 

[Zazz]

The dark elf shrugged, and pierced the translucent membrane of his own fruit with his sharp canines. He tipped his head back to down the juice inside, then tossed the outside to the ground. It would keep the soil moist, and feed any small creatures who happened by. "What is a man worth if he cannot share his fruit?" Lohrithe had simply found the elf alone, and wanted him to know that he wasn't. "What is it that makes you turn your sword upon your people?" There was no accusation in his voice, just mere curiosity.

Azaria, meanwhile, observed the rest. The drow was having a difficult time adjusting to the light; she could tell by the frequent blinking, and the rubbing of his eyes every now and then. She had been tempted to follow Ora, but she was wary of Iolas, her friend's soon-to-be "master." She fixed him with quite the sharp gaze to his back, sharpening her knives near Trileon and Desrick.

 

[SilverFlight]

"Did I perform!" Pyrrhus laughed, his mirth infections. "Why, I took the lead in Giovella Akiamore's 'Honour for Love' three seasons running! The play is about a famed general, fighting for the freedom of his people, on his right hand is his childhood friend, one who had been deeply in love with the general for many a year (unbeknownst to our protagonist of course), on his left hand, a beautiful, yet morally ambiguous mercenary, who brings victory in battle and who eventually captures our dashing general's heart. The drama, and the suspense! Daring sword fights, tender moments. The story is the stuff of legends." Pyrrhus was animated as he spoke, using both hands to emphasize his words.
"Oh it's a delightful play, one of my favourites. One day, I hope you can see it for yourself. Perhaps even in Myst. You are more than welcome to travel with me, once this crystal business is all over."
Yatasal

Desrick knelt by the fire and took a stick from the pile and a log of wood. He fed the flames as he listened to Trileon. When she asked if people would get hurt he stopped.
There was a silence then, broken only by the crackle of the flames. Desrick was staring into them, lost in the memory of Delan on fire. When he spoke his voice was unsure: "I don't know."
He set the log gently on the top of the ones burning and sat back. "Evereach began this when they invaded Cyndara, and attacked my home. If they're left to keep the crystal...I'm afraid they'll do worse."
His gaze drifted back up to the young healer. "Wars are not fought without hurt...sometimes, if violence come to you...you don't have a choice but to answer it in kind...but I won't call for death unless I absolutely have to...it is not the Cyndaran way." And he was sure of that when he said it, despite what the orc clans would have thought.
He reached over and grabbed a small sack, withdrawing some dried fruit and a block of hard cheese.
"Here, you should eat something before Ora returns. Once we get into the city we'll no doubt be given Sumennan food...who knows what that'll be like."
Desrick tried a grin, his tusks pronounced, jutting up well beyond the rest of the teeth in his jaw.
mothspit

 

[Flutterby]

Several hours later, a form could be seen trudging up the side of the hill to the camp. It had four legs, but atop it sat a familiar red-cloaked figure.
It had taken Ora longer to arrange things than she had planned- the runner was immensely curious that she was back so soon, and then there had been the issue of getting Desrick inside without causing a commotion..

But just about five marks after she had left, the dwarf was urging her pony up the slope, toward the very faint line of smoke that showed their location. Her mount pinned its ears at the climb, but had no real trouble with the effort. As she neared the edge of the camp, she stopped and dismounted, and attempted to lead it forward. The pony balked, nostril's flaring and eyes rolling toward Desrick, but Ora only tutted.
"Luta, you beast," The dwarf muttered, rubbing the pony's neck and keeping a firm hand on the reins.
"Just move slowly, and she'll get over it." Ora called to the Cyndarans, but looked mostly at Desrick.

"Things are set- the runner is on the way to Brynson, and there's a place to stay. Well, it's a stable, but it's only temporary. We'll be getting there as people begin to bed down. Desrick-" Ora reached into a pack attached to the pony and pulled out a huge swath of fabric, "Put on this cloak, it's all we could think of for now. Just keep your head down." Ora felt an intense twinge. If anything was going to give them away, it would be the orc. But it was too late now. Things had been set in motion.
SilverFlight
LazyDaze Zazz Yatasal mothspit hwayi

Spoiler: Ora's pony, Luta

 

[mothspit]

Trileon brought her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them and resting her chin against her thighs. She shared the same sentiments as the orc-- Violence would be met with reason, not more destruction. There was an odd tenderness from him she wasn't used to seeing from people of his species. She took the food gladly, turning it over in her blue palms for a minute before speaking.

"..I've traded with orcs before," She said, black eyes examining the face of the man before her, "Just pelts and things.. You aren't like them. You're much.. softer."

The beastwoman placed a hand on his shoulder, "I don't mean that how it sounds. You're.. a good person, Desrick. I'm honored to fight alongside you."

She happily took bites of the cheese and fruit, smiling a full, chipmunk-cheeked smile at the mention of Sumennan food. What did they eat, anyway? Bits of grass and the occasional leaf? Who knows.

When the woman Ora returned, Trileon had already downed the rest of her meal, and returned to sharpening the remainder of her arrows. She had never used them to take the life of another person, and Myst Queen permitting, she wouldn't have to. Still, it was better to be prepared.

SilverFlight + whoever else wants to interact

 

[LazyDaze]

"Probably worth more than a high elf amongst Cyndarans," Iolas joked as he took another bite out of the sac like fruit. He pondered the drow’s next question. Iolas supposed he knew the answer, but he didn’t quite understand how to convey it. In all honesty he wished that he could keep everyone alive; however, he knew idealistic thinking was a one-way ticket to tragedy, but he found salvation in that belief nonetheless. “There are those with good hearts on both sides, I believe that if we are given the chance, we might just understand each other. I turn my sword against those against a future where we all can sit amongst a fire like this.”

Iolas took another bite as he attempted to ignore the feeling that he was being watched. As his eyes roamed around the camp, he would always quickly shift his away from Azaria...he would have to deal with her sooner or later, but he opted for later. He then turned and smiled at Lohrithe as he spoke, “Or maybe they are simply jerks.” Iolas sheathed his swords and stretched out across the ground as he took in the beautiful sky painted with warm colors. This felt like home more than anywhere else.

(Or maybe it is too late too startover…) "I can more or less guess why everyone else is here...but you do not give away much. How does such a situation find you," Iolas said still looking at the sky.

Zazz

 

[SilverFlight]

Trileon's words brought a hearty chuckled from deep within the orc's chest. "I know how you meant it," he said with a smile, "and I thank you for the compliment."
The sound of the pony alerted Desrick and he turned to see Ora picking her way up the cliff. The animal seemed none to happy to see the great big orc and it balked as Ora tried to draw near.
"I can't imagine your beast has ever seen or smelled my like before," Desrick answered good-naturedly. As Ora explained what would happen next Desrick spoke soothingly to the pony in his own tongue, taking the reins and moving to run a gentle hand down the animal's flank.
"I do hope Sumenna has larger mounts. Or I might be walking across Sumenna." He said it with a smile as he took the cloak and threw it over his shoulders. The deep blue of it set a dark contrast to the ivory shirt he had chosen to wear under his vest.
"If the streets are empty enough then we shouldn't have any trouble."
mothspit Flutterby

Desrick turned then and called the rest of the group to him.
"We'll rest at a stable while the runner reaches Brynson and Ora's contact to send a party to collect us. I assume he will have a plan to get us into the city. Pack only your personal things. Leave the non essential supplies behind. We can't have anything traced back to Cyndara. As soon as you are ready, we move."
Zazz mothspit Flutterby Yatasal LazyDaze

Pyrrhus had looked up when Ora appeared. He gave the beast she was riding a double take. "That. Is the strangest creature I could ever imagine." Yatasal
He was still watching the pony warily when he approached Iolas. "So." He began, a little more seriously than he had been before. "I suppose we had better complete this costume of mine." His tail flicked anxiously as he pulled the lute's strap over his shoulder and held the instrument out to the elf. He had already hidden his blades in the supplies Desrick carried.
"Please look after it...it is dear to me."
He seemed to fidget, obviously not too comfortable placing his fate in the high elf's hands.
"Remind me of the magic of those cuffs. I'd like to know just what I'm giving up in this."
LazyDaze

 

[LazyDaze]

Iolas rose up halfway when Desrick spoke. He was just starting to relax but it would seem that they would soon be on the move. He found it strange that the Cyndarans seemed anxious yet excited to enter Sumenna. Even Iolas felt a thump in his chest at the mention of his home country. He hoped, for his new found companions' sake that everything would go smoothly; however, after Iolas's experiences he learned to prepare for the worst. As if proving this thought immediately, Pyrrhus approached him. Iolas knew he would have to deal with the situation sooner or later, even letting out a slight sigh in an attempt to remove any reservations.

"I suppose we shall. The opening scene of our act draws near," Iolas said cheerfully. Ever observant, Iolas had picked up on some of the habits various members of the party had. He could vaguely since Pyrrhus's worries, and anticipation; who could blame him? Iolas did his best to project a calm demeanor so as not to kindle any flames of dread. He took the loot while simultaneously reaching into his cloak for the enchanted cuffs that had Iolas's name engraved in them. "Do not fret, I will guard this with my life...but if I die, you might be in trouble," Iolas said through a chuckle. I suppose a loot playing slave is too much of a stretch. Ironically, the instrument in a unique sense might have actually been Iolas's shackle. "These shackles," Iolas begun softly, "I have only seen something like this once; however, I suppose I will have to see it twice now that I am using it...irony could be a cruel god." Iolas stood up straight and looked Pyrrhus directly in his eyes. He wanted him to know exactly what he was getting into. "Your very will, will be taken from you. It will give you one purpose, and that would be to serve the person who has their name engraved upon those cuffs. Whatever my will, I can make you bend to it. Resisting will only make the fact that you cannot even worse. Even if you had second thoughts and decided to run away, there would be no place in Bryn where you could hide. You would always belong to me." Iolas let these words sink in the air before continuing. "Of course, I am the only one that can free you, so you will have to trust me...well I suppose you already have. If all goes well, it will only be for a short while until we can find a nice place to hide."

Iolas held out the shackles once more as if to say, this is your last chance to back out. Iolas even thought about Azaria again. She was going to be in this position. He wondered how she was feeling at this moment. If she hated him.

Mention Zazz
Interaction SilverFlight

 

[Flutterby]

Luta shot her head as high as it would go and flattened her ears at Desrick as he approached. Ora kept a watchful eye on the two as they interacted. The pony was not above biting if it suited her. Desrick's tone seemed to soothe her, enough, and her head came down slowly. She was curious enough to flare her nostrils to smell him, and almost touched his arm with her muzzle. He didn't seem to have any treats, though, so she quickly went back to eyeballing him, albeit less crossly. The dwarf smiled to herself.
Ora tightened a final strap as Desrick spoke and gave a short laugh.
"There are no boars here, but I'm sure we will think of something."
Ora could just see Pyhhrus, and couldn't help but wonder why he was looking at her mount so oddly. Didn't he know what his rear end looked like?
Ora fiddled with a few things in her pack, but she didn't have much to leave behind. She did take a moment to tuck the horn-ring away into her bag. They didn't make things like that here.
"Ready, when the rest are," She said softy to Desrick, her eyes resting on Pyrrhus as he prepared.
SilverFlight

 

[Yatasal]

"That. Is the strangest creature I could ever imagine."

Quinn grinned and was about to make a comment when Desrick addressed the group. She didn't have anything that could be traced to Cyndara, and so Quinn just did a quick check of her pack and belongings. Hook and rope, check. Hunting knives, check. Double agent identity with loyalty to Evereach? Check. Quinn tugged her vest down, and stayed sitting as Pyrrhus stood and walked over to Iolas. Sun above, she only came up to his knee while sitting. She'd be glad to be back in Summena, with people and creatures who were all around her size or only a foot or two taller.

"Your will, your passions, your heart will all be taken from you. It will give you one purpose, and that would be to serve the person who has their name engraved upon those cuffs. Whatever my will, I can make you bend to it. Resisting will only make the fact that you cannot even worse. Even if you had second thoughts and decided to run away, there would be no place in Bryn where you could hide. You would always belong to me." Iolas let these words sink in the air before continuing. "Of course, I am the only one that can free you, so you will have to trust me...well I suppose you already have. If all goes well, it will only be for a short while until we can find a nice place to hide."

Quinn listened quietly, a cold feeling crawling over her. She thought of the gnomish slaves they had growing up, the shackles on their wrists and ankles. She never even thought of why they always stayed even though they weren't treated well. It hadn't even occurred to her that they weren't treated well; they were little more worth to her than a chair. As far as she knew, her father had never beat their slaves, but maybe that was because he had never had to. Quinn's hands went to her hair, and she took it out and rebraided it into a tight knotted braid, and waited for Pyrrhus' response. He would have to trust Iolas a great deal, but Sun above if Iolas hurt him Quinn would murder him herself. Of course, she had heard Desrick before, and knew that if Iolas did hurt Pyrrhus she'd probably wouldn't get to him before Desrick did.

SilverFlight LazyDaze

 

[SilverFlight]

Pyrrhus swallowed the sudden chill that took him and it settled in the pit of his stomach.
"I wish you made it easier for me to trust you." He said, the unease showing plainly on his face. Very slowly, he offered his wrists for the cuffs to be bound to him.

Desrick had been watching the interaction closely. There was nothing about it he liked.
"Pyrrhus, you don't have to do this." He spoke suddenly and came over to them, his impressive bulk bearing down on the high elf, his expression laced with distrust. "Just say the word and we'll find another way, we'll think of something."
Pyrrhus was surprised for a moment at the orc's protests, then he smiled. "Oh tut tut Desrick, we all knew it was going to be dangerous, and if I can lessen the suspicion by pretending to be a slave then, then I've lessened the danger to us all."
Desrick wasn't used to looking up, and the centaur had such a calm and confident expression that he quickly found his anger gone.
Pyrrhus' gaze shifted from Desrick to Iolas. "For this at least, I want to trust him."

~*~*~

They made it to the stable without incident and Desrick concocted a decent lie for Ora to tell the stablehands to keep them out: There was a very rare and coveted horse stock being shipped to a merchant in Brynson and he didn't want a soul to look upon them, lest his competitors in the show catch wind and buy their own. The settlement was sparse, with white-walled houses supported by dark wood cross beams and thatched roofs. The site was different from anything he had seen in Cyndara. Where his people’s dwellings blended into the land, these seemed oddly opposed to it, defiant in the face of the emerald landscape of the plains.
The light was blazing here as the Cyndarans had never known. Desrick found the darkness of the stable comforting. Byt the end of the twelfth mark he heard something pull up to the stable doors. The orc stood and wrapped his cloak around him, taking up a position before the doors, ready to shield his companions. The doors opened to the back of a covered wagon and a man pulled back the canvas and stepped off the back to land heavily in the straw before them.
He was broad and tall, with a thick jaw and black, wiry hair that was wrapped in braided dreadlocks. His skin was dark and his eyes a piercing blue. His eyes were lined with crows feet that told of frequent good humour, and he showed some of it now as he surveyed the group. He smiled broadly, barely able to contain his excitement.

Spoiler: Gideon Huxley

“So, these are the legendary Cyndarans.” He took in Desrick and his green skin and fangs, Trileon with her exotic blues and sharp features, Lohr with his cloud-greys and white hair. Finally his gaze landed on Pyrrhus, sitting in the hay. “Marvelous.”
He stepped forward and took his glove off to shake hands. “Gideon Huxley.” He offered his name with his hand. “It’s truly an honour to meet you all. I understand Evereach has started trouble in your home. Well, it’s not just Cyndara threatened by their recent actions. I think you’ll find quite a few more allies in Sumenna than you might have originally thought."

He caught site of Ora and grinned at her. “I will be happy to answer all of your questions, but I think it would be best done back at my chateau on the outskirts of Brynson. We’ll have to go through the town, but the wagon should conceal the most…unusual faces."
He pointed to Desrick, and Desrick alone. “You’ll probably have to hide for now, but the others, all they need is some new clothes. You’ll find those in the wagon. Then you can ride or walk as you wish.”

Pyrrhus had been quiet up until this point, he rose slowly and Gideon watched him, unable to look away. “Centaurs are still a novelty in Sumenna, a settlement was found on one of the Crystal Islands thought to be the home of only ancient ruins. Evereach found them first of course, and attacked before any of the other houses could treat them like equals.”
“No doubt then...” Pyrrhus began carefully, “...I will fit in with the other slaves.”
Gideon’s easy smile vanished. “I don’t keep slaves.” He said flatly, and then his shoulders sagged. “But I’m one of the few. The sight of you entering my home will cause tongues to wag, but I have bigger things at stake than my reputation. I’ll explain once you’re safe.”

~*~*~

The journey was not a short one, and it was hot inside the wagon, through the seams in the canvas covering it those inside could watch the scenery with little worry of prying eyes.

The plains grew dull quickly, an endless sea of waving grass, rolling up and down gentle hills. They crested one hill and suddenly things were different:
Brynson was a city built on the edge of a beautiful, crystal-blue lake. It was walled, the battlements of thick stone, though they were decorated with flowing figures, statues of armoured knights, or else delicate nymphs draped in fabric that looked almost real. The gold and blue of House Brynson was flown from every guard tower and every turret on the wall and in the center of the town, the flags could be seen flapping at the top of a great stone castle. The gates were massive oak things braced with iron and studded. It took ten men to operate the winch that opened it. At first it looked like the soldiers wanted to check the wagon, but Gideon clapped them on their backs and began talking. Whatever he had said had them roaring with laughter in moments and they waved them through.

Spoiler: Serving district

They had come through one of the less-used entrances to the city, which brought them into the lower town. The roads were often muddy and the houses shabby and leaning and of every size, shape and style concievable. Thin vendors in holey clothes sold food and small house items from stick and cloth stalls. There was livestock milling about too, nibbling on the grasses and flowers growing between cracked cobbles. All manner of faces peered at the wagon and the party surrounding it, some human-looking, some far from it, and no small number of horns, tails, fangs and long ears.
“The Serving District it is called,” Gideon answered the unasked question, “servants live here, and building slaves, and those too poor to afford housing in the more affluent districts.”
Pyrrhus cast his eyes about, a little unsettled he was drawing so much attention, but it wasn’t fear that he saw in their eyes, it was wonder, and curiosity. He felt a connection to this place, which lingered even after they had left it.

The next district was paved with smooth stone, and the buildings were newer, better-kept. There were fountains in the squares, inhabited by roaring marble lions and coiling sea creatures, or beautiful people wearing only what would complement their bare forms. The milk-white marble was often inlaid with gold for the hair and items they held.
"The merchant's district, and beyond it is the noble's district, where castle Brynson sits at its heart. We won't be going there however, my home is in this district."
Pyrrhus couldn’t help but feel intimidated by this wealthy district, he drew many looks here too but they were not the wondering, curious stares of the Serving District. Many of these looks were covetous and cruel. Pyrrrhus to them, was a commodity, and that thought made him feel awful.

Spoiler: Merchant and noble's districts

A set of high wooden gates marked the beginning of Gideon’s estate, which was lined with high hedges, shielding the gardens from the view of the street. The grounds were huge and filled with the most luxurious flower beds. There was a small babbling stream that fed into a duck pond set about with weeping willow trees. His house (if you could call it that) was more like a castle, Ivory-coloured stone with slate-grey tiles on the turrets and more windows than could be counted, set into moldings of intricately carved wood. The building could have housed fifty people with room to spare. Round the side of the building was a small roofed attachment that looked to be made entirely of glass and filled with exotic fruit trees and flowers.

Spoiler: Gideon's estate

“Welcome to your home in Brynson.” Gideon announced happily. “You may go wherever you please, if you wish to explore the city, my guards have been instructed to open the gates for you. I might even be persuaded to give a tour. Most of you have rooms prepared on the second floor, your centaur friend will put up in my personal solarium. For now, I am open for questions.”

Flutterby Zazz LazyDaze Yatasal hwayi mothspit deer

 

[Zazz]

Having been interrupted by the arrival of Ora and Desrick's subsequent announcement, Lohrithe replied to Iolas quickly, "I am here because of him."

The drow bowed out from their short conversation to prepare. He did not really know what would be considered Cyndaran in regards to his belongings, so he brought along his sword and his pack. He didn't plan on losing either any time soon. And though he wore a shirt, soon the sun became too much for him and he joined Desrick in the covered wagon. Sweat drenched his shirt and his skin itched and burned. His vision wasn't exactly perfect, either, out in the bright light of Sumenna. He understood, now, why his people lived underground.

Lohrithe, after squinting through the canvas seams at the endless grass, finally fell asleep on the journey. He had curled up against Desrick at some point, sunned out and hot. It wasn't until the gates of Brynson were open that he finally came to. Though he listened to the quick tour along the way, Lohrithe remained with his eyes closed. Blindly, he reached for his waterskin and drank, then offered it to the orc. He had never felt so hot in his life.

Another gate, and Lohrithe finally started to rise. He sat where he was until the canvas was pulled back and they were let out. He was met, yet again, with the sun. He wondered why it was so angry. Perhaps Summerbrynde, too, grew tired of his people's ways. Lohrithe shielded his eyes, peeking through them as best he could. What he found was beautiful stone and woodwork. Greenery surrounded the great building; it was nothing like Cyndara. No, these were brighter greens, and less glowy flowers.

Tentatively, he asked Gideon, "Does it ever grow dark? Even a little?"

 

[SilverFlight]

Desrick had looked worried when Lohrithe climbed into the wagon, sweating and fatigued. He tried his best to ease the discomfort that was shown plainly on the drow's fine face, using the water from his flask to soak the edge of his cloak and dab Lohrithe's forehead and arms. When Lohr had fallen asleep Desrick had as well, rocked by the steady motion of the wagon and comforted by Lohrithe's weight against his chest. He roused when he felt Lohrithe shift against him. Desrick reached for the water skin and pressed it gently into Lohr's searching hand. When it was offered to him he smiled and pressed his lips to the top of Lohr's head. "You need it." He murmured quietly.

He hadn't realized how stiff he'd become riding in that wagon. His muscles complained painfully as he got down out of the wagon, and he grimaced, limping a few steps to loosen them.
"I don't know if I'll like traveling in Sumenna, if it means I'll have to do that every time..."
He heard Gideon answer Lore, "What do you mean 'get dark'? Its darker in the house, if that suits."
"Perhaps, if you had a place he could sleep without light, and cooler," Desrick spoke up for his friend, coming to stand close to him, "Lohrithe's kind generally live under ground."
"What about the cellar? That's underground. It's dry and a good deal cooler than the rest of the house."
"That sounds perfect." Desrick met Lohrithe's gaze to confirm it with him.
"Then I'll have my servant prepare a mattress and sheets there right away."
Zazz

 

[Zazz]

Still covering most of his eyes, Lohrithe nodded to Desrick in agreement. A cool, dark place sounded lovely. Too fatigued to be concerned about appearances, the drow turned his face into the orc's shirt and hid his eyes there, inhaling Desrick's musky scent. He was tired, and hot, and his face and arms burned the more sunlight they absorbed. What an awful place. Beautiful, but awful. "Can we go inside, now?"

 

[SilverFlight]

Pyrrhus saw the small exchange between their host and the two Cyndarans. When Lohr pressed into him Desrick's expression softened to the point where he thought the orc would melt. He touched his heart and couldn't hide a smile, even Gideon's mouth twitched.

Desrick brought an arm up and around Lohrithe's shoulders, shielding him with his cloak and guiding him toward the mansion.
"Door just inside the front entrance, against the far wall." The merchant directed.

The cellar was cool, and very dark. Desrick had taken a candle off the dresser by the door before he lead Lohrithe down the stairs, lighting it with a bit of flint he kept on his belt.
There were sacks of grain and baskets of root vegetables and a cask or two of what Desrick guessed would have been wine or ale. The air smelled of earth and stone and it was dry as Gideon had said.
It wasn't long before three servants appeared, struggling to get a feather mattress through the narrow door. Desrick saw to the job, lifting it as if it weighed nothing. He set it down against a wall while the candle he had set on an upturned barrel nearby.
"Sleep now," Desrick soothed, "I will speak with Trileon and see what potion we can make to keep the sun from hurting you."
Zazz

 

[mothspit]

Before they left, the beastwoman did as instructed and only brought along the essentials: Her bow and quiver, and a small pouch containing a number of potions and salves. Trileon dawned one of many long, flowing robes from the floor of the wagon to hide her otherwordly appearance. Her long horns lightly poked the inside of the hood, but for the most part were hidden. She pulled on a pair of fingerless gloves, flexing her fingers. Such strange clothing. So restrictive. How were you supposed to climb trees? Bah.

The journey through Sumenna was unlike anything she could describe. After exchanging pleasantries with Gideon, Trileon mainly kept to herself for the duration of the trip. This was it. The home of her mother. Why did it feel so.. uninviting? The the way the sun carassed the homes and it's people were undeniably beautiful, but similar to the elf in their company, it took a toll on her body. She became slightly fatigued, though not as much as the poor drow. Spending her entire life in perpetual darkness made her eyes sensitive, and when the full force of the Sumennan light hit her face, she recoiled, shielding her eyes with the hood of the cloak. How could anyone live in these conditions? Still though, the living areas were.. immaculate. She was speechless at their advanced architecture and glittering statues. Who knows what kind of plantlife would grow here? The applications were endless.

That is, until they reached the slaves living district. People like her-- Those considered imperfect, or just from Cyndara-- Had an entire district dedicated to keeping them under a proverbial thumb. The sight sickened her. When her eyes fell on one of the citizens from a crack off the wagon, she felt a deep heartache; And they call us savages, she thought.

When they reached Gideon's home, she tentatively climbed out to drink in the sight, an arm held in the air to offer her eyes a small shade. It was so much larger than her small little hut in the trees. It was like a hundred of them put together! Again, she found herself at a loss for words, just until he offered answers to any questions they might have.

"Um," She spoke up nervously, fiddling with a small piece of frayed fabric from her gloves, "..What do you eat? It is not grass, is it?"

It seemed like she was trying to lighten the mood.. well, mostly hers, anyway. This entire journey was taxing, physically and emotionally.

SilverFlight + whoever wants to interact

 

[LazyDaze]

Trust was a hard thing to come by. How was he to get Pyrrhus to trust him when he didn’t even trust himself. Iolas lazily held the shackles as Desrick debated if he would have to go through with such an act, but in the end the play would not be canceled. They would both have to go through with it.


“Very well…” For once, Iolas was unsure of what to say.

-----------------------------------------------------------------
For most of the travel, Iolas was silent, aside from a few ill advised jokes hear and there he made himself scarce. Instead he took his time to write his recent experiences in his book and take in the scenary. He felt as if he was bathing in light that would give him the strength to fight for another day. He chuckled as he could see that some of his “friends” did not share his sentiments. When they finally arrived at the city Iolas heart jumped, albeit briefly. This would be his first time, in a long time, since he had entered a Sumenna city. He decided to keep his cloak on, for now. He was not sure how many, if any, would recognize him, nor did he want to be confused as a member of Everreach, at least not yet. He avoided saying too much of anything to Pyrrhus. Aware of the shackles power, he did not want to accidently exercise his right as slave master with a simple, look over there. Iolas was not entirely sure if thoughts could trigger the cuffs, so he made his mind blank for the first part. A strategy from mental fortitude gained over his lifespan. He to noticed the jeers sent their parties way. Even with disguises they looked odd to say the least. Pyrrhus was just the tip of the iceburg.


When they finally arrived at Gideon’s estate Iolas breathed a heavy sigh as he took his hood off. It really wasn’t made for the heat and he was happy to get out of it. He quickly massaged his ears and straightened his hair, he was in Sumenna after all. One thing kept bothering him, the fact that Cyndaran had allies here in Sumenna. From what Gideon said, it seemed to be a decent amount. Iolas wondered what else might have changed, since that kind of talk could get you executed on the spot. It wasn’t too unfathomable, since he, and others, were aiding them as well. When he stated they could travel throughout the city, Iolas turned to Pyrrhus for the first time in a while. “I’ll stay here,” Pyrrhus can’t leave unless I am seen with him. I suppose we’re a team.”

Iolas then muttered something that sounded like a foreign language and then took the cuffs off of Pyrrhus since they were shielded from the eyes from outsiders. “Sumenna is not all bad, whenever you wish to go somewhere just say the word and I’ll take you,” Iolas said with a cheerful genuine smile. He tucked the cuffs away and glanced at Desrick, there was something he had to tell him; however, something needed to be addressed and it was the heaviness in the room. Emotional downpours from the outside did not really phase Iolas, much like most things, but he felt as if they would be more productive if their spirits were lifted a bit. That was when he heard Trileon ask if they eat grass.


“Surely you jest. We do not ingest grass. We hold it near our mouths and inhale the nutrients,” Iolas said with a blank expression that hid his sarcasm. It was almost as if he truly believed what he was saying as he went through the motions of his last statement.

Iolas then turned to Gideon, and raised hand but found himself already speaking before getting permission as he often did. "I understand the Cyndarans might have questions, but have rumors about an Iolas Orixalim been floating around?" He did not know his status in Sumenna, and Brynson was a good place to at least learn something. It might not have been Everreach, but it would be difficult to keep information from circulating in a city such as this.

SilverFlight mothspit

 

[Zazz]

Lohrithe blinked sleepily, readjusting to the darkness with much more ease than to the sun. He stripped out of his shirt while Desrick helped get the mattress down the stairs, dropping it to the floor with his pack and his sword. The cooler air was blissful, though his skin still felt uncomfortable and hot to the touch. Looking down at himself, he furrowed his brow at the stark contrast between the pale grey moonlight of his torso and the rosy colour beginning to bloom over his arms.

He wrapped Desrick in a gentle, sleepy hug. "Thank you," he murmured, voice a bit raspy and dry. Lohrithe let go, took a swig of water, and promptly fell upon the mattress with a soft snore.

 

[SilverFlight]

Pyrrhus had begun the journey with fear and anxiety about surrendering to the spell of the cuffs. As soon as they were on he had felt a subtle pressure at the back of his mind. He began to filter through thoughts experimentally and found mostly freedom, it was only when his thoughts centered on Iolas did he feel the cold snap of the spell, like the coiled spring in a trap, ready to impose it's magic at the slightest test of rebellion. Pyrrhus knew that any instruction given, he would follow without pause. The thought made him even more afraid, but as they traveled Pyrrhus realized just how hard Iolas was trying to keep the cuffs' effect at bay: He didn't speak, he didn't look at the centaur, and Pyrrhus might have guessed he was also guarding his thoughts too. The gesture touched him and he found his impression of the high elf softening a little.
Iolas' offer to stay with him earned him a smile and a playful jab: "A team with you? There are worse things I suppose."

He let the cuffs be taken off and rubbed his wrists, though they left no mark, Pyrrhus had barely even felt them. The offer of taking him out to see the city brought his gentle smile to a broad grin. "I would very much like to see Byrnson!" He smiled slyly, "It's a date then."

"The fact that the centaurs have just been conquered instead of being longstanding slaves may play to our advantage here: There are no centaur slaves born to servitude, so, a certain deviation from...customary behaviour wouldn't be odd. I don't see a problem with it, as long as you're accompanying the elf." Gideon offered his thoughts and Pyrrhus nodded, more than a little relieved their cover didn't depend on his ability to seem disinterested and forlorn, because seeing most of the city made him feel the exact opposite.
LazyDaze

Trileon posed her question and earned a joking response from Iolas. Gideon just laughed. "Is that what they tell you in the darklands? Ha! No, I have fresh fruits and vegetables, fine cheese, new bread, and we might even break into the cured ham and lake trout if people are so inclined."
mothspit

Gideon became thoughtful when Iolas asked his question. Pyrrhus tilted his head, slightly curious as to why Iolas would ask after rumours of himself.
"The 'golden boy' of Evereach? I heard he died in the darklands after being given an impossible task by a rival heir, if there's anything more it isn't known by many outside of the House, they often keep to their own."
It looked like Gideon wanted to say more, but he refrained.
LazyDaze

Desrick had come back at the point, walking straight to Trileon. "Lohrithe suffers in the sun's light. I have a tonic that is used for burns...perhaps with your help we can create something that protects us."
mothspit LazyDaze

"I am sure you are weary after the long journey, I'll have a meal prepared in the willow grove by the pond," Gideon said. "If you need anything, do not hesitate to put the request to one of my servants."
Zazz Flutterby hwayi Yatasal mothspit LazyDaze

 

[mothspit]

Trileon posed her question and earned a joking response from Iolas. Gideon just laughed. "Is that what they tell you in the darklands? Ha! No, I have fresh fruits and vegetables, fine cheese, new bread, and we might even break into the cured ham and lake trout if people are so inclined."
mothspit

Trileon gave a relieved chuckle. The last thing she wanted to munch on after an worldview-shattering trip like this was some muddled sweetgrass. This man Gideon seemed nice; Maybe he was right. There would be more allies here than she thought. She hoped so, anyway.

"Thank the Gods," She replied with a beaming smile, "Lake trout sounds delicious."

Desrick had come back at the point, walking straight to Trileon. "Lohrithe suffers in the sun's light. I have a tonic that is used for burns...perhaps with your help we can create something that protects us."
mothspit LazyDaze

To this news, Trileons smile fell. The thought of creating a remedy against the sun.. Until now, it was one she hadn't even considered. She assumed that there bodies would adjust with time, like the scout Jihlaina, but perhaps it was naive to think so. Her own fatigue, made evident by leaning against the back of the wagon for support, was proof of that. Though, perhaps her human side granted by her mother offered her immunity, if only a little. And if the drow was worse off then she was, how long could they really last here? He appeared to be a mighty warrior; Having him bow out this far into the quest could prove deadly, and not just for him. Though, there was a small tinge of excitement rushing through her-- This was the perfect opportunity to combine her knowledge with Sumennan flora and fauna. If there was a remedy for the harshness of the sun, it would definitely be found here.

With a newfound sense of urgency, Trileon came to Desrick and gently took hold of his arm for support, "Take me to him. I must see the affliction first."

 

[SilverFlight]

Desrick's arm was like the trunk of a tree, just as thick and just as steady. He would have carried her if he thought she required it.
"We must be very careful. He sleeps and I don't want to wake him."
They both went back down to the cellar together, Desrick glancing back apologetically at the others, a silent statement that he would be back momentarily.
When they reached the bottom Desrick had to light the candle again, he hoped the disturbance would not wake Lohrithe.
Lohrithe's skin was mot its usual shade, it was pinker and when a hand was pressed to his shoulder it was hot to the touch.
"I think it is the heat too, not just the sun. Perhaps we can weave some enchantment into clothing?"
He looked down at the sleeping drow, concern etched visibly on his face.
"The potion I have contains yewbane, gremlin's saddle and Myst tear blossoms. What would you use to bolster the effects? I wonder if Gideon or someone in his house could help us with Sumennan plants."
Zazz mothspit