Fantasy The World of Gea - Traveler Tales

[SilverFlight]

This is a pilot side thread for The World of Gea. Here you can write small interactions that occur outside of the main story. Simply write the location, time and the characters involved at the top of every post. It may also be good to give the first line of your post a colour, so it can be distinguished from other simultaneous stories.

Have fun!

EdwardDewey98

 

[SilverFlight]

A Day outside the Eranoire capitol
Just prior to the intermission
Charatcers: Tate and Olivier (and other newbies as preferred)

They had passed the threshold of the city precisely one day ago, but the nervous excitement Tate had felt at that moment had stayed with him, coursing through his heart with every step. When Olivier had gotten the news that he would be assigned to an adventuring company, it was as if Tate’s best friend had been given the very life Tate dreamed of. Then Olivier voiced the thought, that wonderous, terrifying, brilliant thought: Tatum-Aurani of Abertsleigh should come with him.

Tate had lived most of his life as a mild and obedient son, the perfect heir for his perfect parents, but he had always wanted so much more for his life than to be stuffed behind a desk, mixing potions for wealthy neighbours.

Now, the steady clop of his mare’s hooves on the hard-packed forest trail was like music to is adventure-starved soul. The air was thick and fresh after a morning shower, the loamy soil scent mixing with new flowers and wet bark. The sun filtered through a verdant canopy of ancient oak and beech, their trunks twisting columns in this natural cathedral built in reverence of the very earth. The birds sang as a pious choir, filling the space with their voices as they dodged and wove through ivy-draped branches.

“I still can’t believe I’m actually doing this.” Tate voiced for likely the fiftieth time since they had struck out.

“Ollie, here, if it weren’t for you, I’d likely be going home to my parents in place of that letter I sent yesterday. I couldn’t have done this without you…so…thank you. Truly.”
And he meant it. Olivier had been the best friend Tate had ever had, and even if he wasn't set on an adventure of his own, Tate would still have joined his friend, simply because he had asked.

Elenion Aura

BriiAngelic AriAriAbabwa

 

[Elenion Aura]

A Day outside the Eranoire capitol
Just prior to the intermission
Charatcers: Tate and Olivier (and other newbies as preferred)

The weather was ripe for riding. He felt his horse's anticipation beneath him. Someone wants to stretch their legs, Olivier thought with a smile. He was a headstrong, wilful beast, but that was why he had been chosen. You know how the saying goes, 'Birds of a feather...'

He placed an understanding hand on the horse's thick flank and gave him a few reassuring pats. The time would come, eventually, when speed would be of the essence, but it was not now. Abide a while longer, friend. Your time will come. Olivier sat at the head of the column of riders at his back as they trotted through the undergrowth, along the hoof-beaten path through the tall trees of Eranoire, beyond which lied the Eranoiran border, and destiny.

"Settle down, ami, our 'ome is still but a stone's srow behind us."

Though, he couldn't help but smile a little to himself at his old friend's wonder. He'd always been like that. The world was a living text book, filled to the brim with knowledge and experience. It was one of the many things he admired about him, almost to the point of envy. They were close, and alike in many ways. This was not one of them. To Tate, this journey was an adventure, like something out of a children's storybook, full of chivalry and peril, but also hope, and a message at the end of it all. But, to Olivier, this was a war. A chess match. An opening gambit, played masterfully by the current acting Duke of Lyonesse, Olivier's uncle.

"You are welcome, mon ami! For ze sousands time."

Olivier glanced smirking at his companion as he rode alongside him. It was times like this that the young Duke-to-be felt he could handle anything his uncle threw at him, so long as Tate—loyal, earnest Tate—remained ever by his side.

SilverFlight

 

[SilverFlight]

Tate sensed his friend's unease and pressed his lips into a fine line looking at him. He was worried for Olivier, he wouldn't lie to himself about that. The predicament that the future duke was in simply by accident of birth seemed too big for the both of them sometimes. Still, it wasn't enough to deter one plucky young alchemist.
"Ollie, let's have a race. Last one to the next mile marker has to cook his own supper! Ready go!"
He kicked the mare on and she took off like a shot, golden tail flying like a standard behind them. The only issue was, Tate was a very poor rider. He bounced and slipped with every stride, but he threw himself into the challenge with such gusto it was hard not to laugh.

Elenion Aura

 

[Elenion Aura]

His surprise at the sudden initiation of a race between them quickly melted into resigned acceptance—Olivier knew what it was his friend was attempting to do, and he appreciated him all the more for it… Although, acceptance in turn became the spark that ignited his own fire. Olivier let himself indulge in one deep, longsuffering sigh before his competitive nature took over the reins.

He barely had to give his horse any incentive at all. It was as if the mere thought itself, passed from one to another, was enough to send the dark stallion charging forward, kicking up dust, leaves, and detritus with each thundering hoof beat.

Unlike Tate, Olivier was an excellent rider. His body moved in tandem with his mount’s, whilst all the while keeping his willful steed well in mind of who was driving each step. The pair overtook Tate and his mare with ease. Olivier did not even look back. There was only forward.

It did not take long for the mile marker to come into focus on the path ahead. Olivier reined in his horse and together they turned to wait for Tate’s arrival.

"Ha! I win. Was zat supposed to be a challenge?"

Olivier smirked, but there was a softness there, too. An unspoken, Thank you.

 

[SilverFlight]

Tate was certainly not surprised when Olivier overtook him. He laughed as his friend galloped past. Galvanized by the other horse, his own quickened her pace, and it was all Tate could do to hold on.
He was breathless with mirth by the time they finally slowed, the mare tossed her head and champed at her bit.
"Maybe not a challenge for you." Tate shot back. "But you have to admit, I am getting better."

They both knew it was only because of Olivier's instruction. Tate had gladly accepted any extra lessons the duke's son would offer.
The trail went around a bend, the forest growing thicker, the path darker. The knights it seemed, needed a little more time to catch up.
A river babbled happily at the bottom of a small slope, cutting the trail in it's rocky path. Tate let his horse walk into it, the shallow water splashing at her fetlocks. She put her head down to drink and Tate dismounted.
"Oh! Look at that! Snowweed, and Pyre's campion! There on the bank! Do you know how hard it is to collect fresh samples of these?"

He was about to bring out his herb tools, when Tate turned to the canopy and frowned.
"That's odd...I don't hear the birds."
Something wasn't quite right.

He hadn't seen the men yet. Two of them in the trees before pair, and three closing the trap behind. They had swords, and two of them held ropes. It wasn't hard to see what they were here for. Two noblemen alone in the forest might have been an easy target, but as the bandits revealed themselves, Tate only glanced back at Olivier, face grim. His hand was still tucked into his red coat, but instead of the herb bag, his fingers closed around a tiny vial at his belt.

Elenion Aura

 

[Elenion Aura]

Olivier laughed and nodded, reining in his steed as he turned to face his friend. It was true. Tate was getting better at a lot of things. Perhaps the life of an adventurer did suit him, after all, despite his bookishness. Then again, Olivier had never once doubted him. The young noble prided himself on his keen eye for untapped potential.

"Oh, oui. Perhaps in another decade or two you might actually force me to try." Olivier couldn't hold in his chuckle. Olivier knew he could be harsh, sometimes. In his short career at court, he'd developed quite the reputation for his icy demeanor, his tonuge often sharper than his blade... Or at least, as sharp. But with Tate, Olivier felt like the young scholar knew when he was just ribbing him.

When Tate dismounted, Olivier followed suit. His horse took the opportunity to join his fellow in the creek. As Tate drew their attention to the various flora that dotted the river-bank, Olivier busily untied and retied the lacing of his riding jacket. He had just finished cinching himself back up—his dress, the dress of a nobleman of Lyonesse, left everything to the imagination, with nary any skin left uncovered—when he heard the dip in the timbre of Tate's voice. Immediately, his hand found the hilt of his rapier slung from a belt around his waist.

Bandits. Mercenaries. Assassins? What they called themselves didn't matter in the moment.

His uncle would be thrilled when he heard the news... If he didn't already know. If he hadn't hired them himself to do his dirty work. That is, only if they succeeded.

The ringing of steel cut through the quiet of the clearing as Olivier drew his blade and leveled it at the nearest bandit. He glanced at Tate, briefly, his face a mask of cold iron. From then on he had eyes only for their would-be killers.

"Come, then." The nobleman uttered, smirking.

SilverFlight

 

[SilverFlight]

At Olivier's taunt the men charged. Tate struck the rump of his horse and she bolted downstream. The vial he pulled from its holder was ice-blue, and as two of the thugs landed in the river with a splash, Tate hurled it at the rocks by their feet. Instantly the water froze, trapping their boots with it. They hit the frozen rocks with cries of surprise.

The three behind them charged together. Tate picked up a decent-sized rock and dribbled a second potion onto it. He threw it at one of the men, who dodged the rock easily and was about to laugh, only to find his knees smacked in as the rock rebounded off the bank straight back at him, throwing him off guard.
The other two charged Olivier, blades raised. One tried a downward strike, the other had a go at Olivier's calves, trying to disable the boy but not kill him.

While they fought, the first two began to dig themselves out of the frozen river bed. It would only take them moments to be free again.

Elenion Aura

 

[Elenion Aura]

Olivier breathed.

First form.

With a flourish, Olivier touched his blade to his forehead. Their duel had commenced. Not that either of these ruffians were deserving of the refined death they were about to be dealt. Then again, Olivier's bladework alone would be enough to elevate them.

Second form.

Olivier slid his dominant foot behind, angling his body such that he presented the smallest target available, whilst tucking his free-hand behind him, nestling the flat of his hand against the small of his back. He extended his blade-arm as his back straightened and his knees bent. The men were very close, now. They were almost upon him.

Breathe.

Olivier parried the downward slash, guiding the flat of the blade away before he riposted with a lightning-fast jab. The swipe at his calf forced him to break his stance as he backed away from the encroaching threats. His back foot landed on a loose rock and he lost his footing, nearly stumbling backwards as the two men closed in again. Only one of them would never make it.

The nobleman's mouth quirked as he watched a small pin-prick of red begin to flower on the first mercenary's neck, the spot that he'd poked through with his rapier. In vain, the man dropped his cleaver and clasped both hands around the wound to stop the bleeding. He died before he could realize that the blade had pierced him clean through, and that blood was also seeping out the back.

While his companion recovered from the sight of his fallen fellow, Olivier retook his duelist's stance.

First form.

SilverFlight

 

[SilverFlight]

The sight of blood startled Tate. The man fell and he recoiled instinctively. Tate, for all his talk of adventure, had never actually been on one, and it had come to him that they may need to take lives...still, now that it was happening...
Tate slipped on a rock in the river bed and went down with a splash. By then, the first man he had frozen in the ice was free, drawing a sword and bearing down on him.
He fumbled for another vial, but it slipped from his hand and vanished under the water. His hands were shaking terribly, why were they shaking?

"O-Olivier..." He breathed the name, unable to cry out. The man raised his sword over his head and was about to strike. Everything in Tate screamed at him to move but he couldn't; his blood was frozen and all he could do was watch in terror.

Elenion Aura