MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 06, 2004
Logfile from Two Moons - Savith.
Southern Hall
Sheer elegance of size unfolds before you. The Southern Hall, entrance to Blue Mountain, expands upwards into a dark indigo, slowly falling back down in lighter hues, mauve just overhead and a damp pink at foot. Carved and shaped from the stone, hawks and falcons adorn the walls near the entrance. Stone ivy, tainted with a vibrant green and brown of shaping magic, slowly progresses towards the north, first intermingling with real flora, then disappearing behind what could only be lush vegetation for a cavern.
To the west, a staircase forms an octagon as it angles down in a colorful and playful design of color. Although the bottom step shares the same rich blue stone as the floor, each consecutive step shifts hues until the last reaches a deep green, leading into the shadows of an arch. To the southeast, another arch decends into a grotto, night-sky blue pillars shouldering either side.
The air is fresh and clean, a breeze blowing through unseen places high above. A rich sweetness of vegetation rolls in through the northern arch. Overhead, shadowy bridges span the eastern and western walls, drawn from the very stone. Although lit well enough to make out the distinct details of the hall, the huge space echoes voices and footsteps several times, contributing to the immenseness of Blue Mountain.
Time being meaningless here, its passing can only be measured when one is tired and sleeps, and when one is hungry and eats. Or when the Chosen take a shift change. Such as now, when Savith flies from the Main Hall, just down from his watch over the Throne. Another day done. Another meal about to be ordered, and many, another night spent in the arms of loved ones. IF no one calls, that is.
Some in the Mountain might measure time by the comings and goings of the Chosen, but Savah, is not one of those. Such things, if she notices them at all, are never commented upon. She sleeps as often here, as she did in the Village, so that is no measure of time either. Her time, is mostly spent in meditation, save for those increasingly rare journeys outside the Chamber she has resided in since arriving in the Mountain. And this, is one of those moments, where the Mother of Memory slips out from behind the thick cloth curtain, her hair done up in its myriad of tiny braids, clothed in the garb of a Mountain elf, though her skin, her bearing, and of course, the power which radiates benignly from her, as if she were the sun, force her to stand out.
And that is what makes Savith do a double take. He hadn't see Savah in a while, and well.. She's just so dark compared to the gliders. Alighting upon the ground, the Chosen pauses a moment, and nods to the head of the sun village, his voice soft, "Savah."
Lifting her eyes, Savah's attention flickers from the floor and deep thoughts, to Savith. Slowly, her eyes blink, and she cants her head in the form of a genteel nod, "Chosen." After all, he's in full regalia, he must be doing Her bidding.
Or just finished doing Her Duty? At the title, Savith inclides his chin and becomes suddenly MORE businesslike. "Is there anything I can do for you, Mother of Memory," the CHosen asks. Two can play at tossing titles about. The two are standing just inside speaking distance, while Savith closer to the Main Hall and Savah near the Guest Caverns she has been staying.
Savah closes her eyes for a moment, her head shaking softly from side to side. Its then, her hands move, to gently grasp one to the other. Soft is the Mother's voice, as she replies, "No, no there is nothing that I need done for me." Her eyes then open, a glimmer of an enigmatic smile beginning, "Is there something else, perhaps, I can do for you?"
It is about now that another form slips along the ground from the Guest Cavern. Lacking the height of the Gliders, and the dark color of the Sunfolk, she is one of the others who have congregated to the Mountain during this time of troubles - a simple Cavedweller who followed the Sunfolk and Palace-folk to this blue place.
The words makes Savith quirk a brow,but before he can answer, the soft sound of the pitpatter of little footfalls upon stone catch his attention. "No, no," Savith replies distractedly, eyes going toward the newest elfess. "Nothing you can do, at the moment."
"Perhaps later then?" Savah asks quietly, the smile full upon her lips, knowing and humored all at once. The words spoken, her attention as well turns towards the sound of another moving about.
Silverfox comes to a stop as she glances up to find all eyes (all four of them) on her. The scarred arms come up to wrap around her waist, as she comes to a stop. There is a pause, before she nods in greeting, voice quiet, if odd in this Hall, and respectful. "Savah, Chosen... I hope I am not intruding?" After all, if nothing else, being polite has been pounded into her head.
"Hmmmm, perhaps," Savith replies, eyes on Silverfox. They narrow into slits as they study her features, her countance. "No," he answers finally. "No, you're not interrupting. I don't believe I've had the pleasure of meeting you." Cold? Of course! Calculating? Definately. Creepy? Well, what do YOU think?
You sense in a locksend, Larias's mind, turns to dread, fear fiulled, angry, protective.
Savah echoes the Chosen, well, the meaning anyway, for her own words differ, as does the tone, for hers is warm, welcoming, and encouraging, "Of course not my child. Of course not. Ktai mentioned to me, that you had come."
You locksend to Larias, Savith is instantly aware and worried. **Beloved? What? What is it??**
Silverfox tilts her head and gives the Chosen a frank look, from the top of his curly hair to the bottom of his feathered books, taking her time. After a moment or five, going so far as to think she'd not ever be replying, a grin appears as would seem to be her customary, "Nope, I don't believe we have. Shade and sweetwater, Chosen - I'm Silverfox." Savah gets a look, and a more sedate smile - even if that is obviously more towards an effort of respect then calmness, "Good, good - Ktai made me promise I wouldn't be bothering anyone, but the idea of staying in the Cavern for another moment was like making a figure in the burning sands - unpleasant to even think of!"
You sense in a locksend, Winnowill abruptly enters your mind, not seeking pain, but for pure efficiency, not even bothering to knock on your mind before making her thoughts known. **Savith, do be a good father and go collect your youngest from my Sweet Larias, I have need to speak to her, and do not wish the Child to be bothered.**
And in that stretch of time, Savith's eyes shadow as his shoulders tense. As the elfess's voice pipes out from her, he shifts his gaze, turning them up toward the summit. A locksend drifts from his mind, as an unplesant expression darkens his features. It's then that his eyes return to Silverfox, narrowed even more sharply. "Silverfox," he repeats. He opens his mouth to say something further, only for no sound to emerge. Instead, his eyes take on a glazed look as what can only be an inky send creeps into his mind. A blink, and he turns, legs tensing as this CHosen prepares for flight.
You locksend ** I Fly. ** to Winnowill.
You sense in a locksend to Winnowill, Savith: Larias's mind reaches for her mates, ** Ah, something, that I must.. attend to Savith. I... ** well, she's not sorry. ** I hope you weren't interrupted. **
You locksend, to Winnowill, Larias: Savith's mind is calmingly businesslike. **No, certainly, lifemate. I am on my way.** A pause, and his mind sends again, knowing She is listening. **DO I escourt her to you, My Lord?*8
Savah's pale thin brow arches as Savith goes from cool to cold, from stiff to robotic, seemingly in response to his look of ... irritation? frustration? worry? She speaks quietly then, "Yes, I.. .find myself needing to move about, more frequently here as well.
Winnowill locksends, to Larias, Savith: ** No, she knows the way, and the child needs tending. As all children do. And the safety of our children is of highest paramount, is it not? **
You locksend, to Winnowill, Larias: ** It is. **
Silverfox twitches a moment at the look, then very carefully takes a step back. Just in case she's annoyed him, you see. She watches him get ready to leap into the air, before looking at the elder to see how she is responding, before nodding, "Almost the opposite of the Village. Interesting..."
Savith launches himself into the air and off into somewhere else in the mountain. Sends flicker to and from him as he flies off.
Savah's eyes follow after the fading form of the Chosen, definitely on an errand of his Lord, no question about that. She shakes her head, letting out a soft sigh, before turning her focus back towards Silverfox. Again, she speaks softly, "Yes, much here is the opposite of the Village. Have you found it, tolerable this far?"
Silverfox clearly relaxes some as the Chosen floats up out of the room - if she's going to be here for a while, that is probably something she needs to work on, how to hide her reactions better. "So far, though Ktai is going to have her hair go pale with her worrying...." the young healer admits cheerfully enough. "She was worrying /me/, though, so I came a'visiting. Everything going well with you, Mother of Memory?" The title at this poing is probably due to the increased danger the cavedweller sees the elder being in, just being here.
"As well as can be expected," Savah replies, her eyes flicking now and again in the direction of the flighty Chosen. Another soft sigh, her head shaking a fraction from side to side. Her eyes close for one brief moment, then open again, "How was she worrying you?"
Silverfox smirks a touch, as she looks up at the taller Sunlady, arms still tucked up around her waist, given mothcloth is /not/ suitable for the Mountain, "You mean besides a lack of eating, a lack of sleeping, and telling me to go away? Usual things." Wait -- that /is/ the usual thing!
A hint of a smile makes its way to Savah's lips, perhaps being aware of all this already, and, more than likely guilty of very similar for she does not have her usual handmaiden there to remind her to eat and drink when she has been meditating for to long. A soft chuckle sounds from the Mother of Memory, "So, she is being her usual self, and this concerns you?"
The sound of bare feet on stone proceeds the entrance of Larias. She looks, pale, fear filled and determined. Her arms are at her sides, held there stiffly, though she wishes to curl them protectively about a child right about now.
Sorry. But Baby is with Daddy, right now. But if you'd like to leave a message, please press one, now, or just wait for the tone. BEEEEEEEEEEEP. Savith walks at his mate's side, cradling a fussing infant in his arms. A large infant, to be sure, but an infant, none the less. Soft words and whistles and birdchirps come from the oh-so-stoic Chosen as he seeks to calm and comfort the child. Waking a baby from naptime for a walk, is NOT a good thing. No, not at all. Fussy baby.
Silverfox giggles quietly at the Mother of Memory, before asking, "Should I be driving you to distraction with my natterings as well? Well, obviously, because she wasn't annoyed when telling me to go away. She was..." there are people coming. A chosen and another, and with a moment's pause, "More insistant about it." Ah, talking is such a wonderful thing!
A slender, broad-shouldered figure watches furtively from a shadowed doorway -- if there's one thing the mountain is not short on, it's shadows. He knows he's not supposed to be out here without Savith escorting him, but he's been curious about this place and been here long enough to scrape together a little courage.
"Perhaps, with you, Ktai and Rue working together..." Another soft chuckle emanates from the Mother of Memory, but the sound trails off into silence as the Chosen returns, and with strange company too.
Larias pauses a moment once the landing of the floor has been reached. She abruptly grabs her mates shoulder, forcing him to pause in step, and, exuberantly, turns to wrap her arms tight about him, a quick nuzzle to his neck, flutter of eyelashes to cheek, and a light kiss as well, and she turns, two tears glimmering in the light and off she goes at a full blown run, feet slapping on the stone floor, darting into the Grotto.
Which leaves poor Savith standing there, at the bottom of the stairs, a fussy baby in his arms, blinking after his mate. There's a worried cast to his features, no doubt about it, but send moral support? HA! Not on if his life and soul depended on it! ...Oh wait. It just might. Twoedge's Riddles. What's a Chosen to do?!
Silverfox smirks up at Savah, "Ohhhh, so Ktai's just as fussy as she's always telling me I am? Nice - I'll have to tell her I will stop when she does - and that just won't include you..." she teases the Sunlady, before glancing back to the two, as Larias runs off. A touch of a frown appears, as that can't be good.
Sandspur blinks at the brief interaction between Savith and Larias. He's going to get in trouble, he knows, but Savith looks...well, poleaxed. "Um...Savith?" He pokes his head out and approaches the Chosen cautiously, his bare feet all but silent on the stone floor. "Is everything all right?"
All trace of light hearted amusement fades from the visage of the Mother of Memory, her brows dip down low, arching high. She lets out a long sigh, then shakes her head, one thin brown hand reaching up to press against her temple.
The child complains a bit more as Daddy's chirping whistles fade with his worry. It's Sandspur's questions that reach Savith's ears, for he turns to look at the spiky visitor. He takes a breath and nods, busying his voice by chirping nad whistling for his precious hatchling once more. Turning from Sandspur slightly, Savith takes to pacing, his steps taking him toward Savah and Silverfox, all the while bouncing the child gently.
Silverfox glances towards the new voice, considering Sandspur as she asks the Chosen, "Kitling can't sleep?"
Sandspur inches up to the Glider and child, slipping off his necklace. He holds it over the bundle of fretful Gliderling, letting the clearstone and shells tinkle against each other. Acedia has been soothed by this before...maybe it will work again. "Poor thing...it must be so frustrating not to speak."
Amber eyes look at all those present, and then, she moves to turn round, headed back towards the Guest Chamber she has been residing in. Something, new occupies her thoughts, something new which should be tended to. No words are spoken, though the Mother of Memory is far from speedy in her departure.
Savith's eyes trail after Savah. They narrow faintly as a dark scowl appears. One can just imagine the little black storm cloud over his head as he all but glares at Savah. And there goes his cute birdsong, gone again. But thankfully those bright beads help, and the child reaches for them and leans WAAAAAAAAAAY over toward Sandspur. Annoyed, Savith just lets her go, opting to holding the child aloft with his mind then struggle with her in his arms. She's hot besides, and mussin' his uniform. Hmph. Plus, this way, he can cross his arms and look rightfully disgruntled.
Silverfox glances at Savah, and sends something, the little Cavedweller looking rather concerned as more and more people seem upset, kitlings included.
Sandspur laughs and moves to take little Acedia...who instantly grabs her favorite set of reins -- the Rafter's fluffy blond hair -- and begins trying to chew on them. He gives Savith a wry look. "Even the little Gliders like bossing me around."
Reaching the Guest Cavern, Savah pushes back the thick cloth, and slips inside, without turning round to bid adieu to anyone there. So what if sensitive feelers might note a roll of sending wash from her mind.
Savith is not a sensative feeler, and so notices only Savah leave without a word. Hmph. Arrogant wolfess. Turning his back to the room she just entered, Savith looks at Sandspur and with dilerbrately forced gentleness, he replies, "So it would seem. I think she just like the color." Savith does. Blonds are the BOMB!
Silverfox frowns at the closing swath of cloth-door, then shakes her head, before turning her attention on the now-pleased kitling, grinning a bit.
"Perhaps," the Rafter admits. "But it works, either way." The muscular seaelf looks up at Silverfox. "Oh, hello. Are you visiting too?"
You sense in a locksend, Larias has no way of shielding you in any way shape or form from what passes through her mind. Searing hot, soul touching pain, agony ripping through her psyche, dredging up a memory of touch and knife like pain. It hurts, High Ones it hurts, and then, nothing. Not the nothing of death, the nothing of - even if I am still being hurt, I don't know it anymore.
What? People.. talking? Near me? Nah... Must be my over-worked imagination. The voices of Acedia, Snadspur, and Silverfox fade into nothing as a red haze falls over Savith's vision. His magics cuts out as he staggers backward, a ragged, pain-filled gasp ripping from his throat. Unbeknowst to him, Acedia drops. She drops like a... She just drops. And he drops, his legs finding themselves no longer able to support his weight. He fails to his rump, still quite awake, but his eyes are unseeing, and filled with clear, wet tears. In his chest, his heart pounds.
You locksend, to Winnowill, Larias: Savith's frightfilled soul stumbles VOER itself trying to reach for Larias as through her he filled pain. **Beloved?!?!?!?** What? She's listening? Whatever! Must... help.. mate!
Can we say 'oh /puckernuts/'? I thought you could.... Habit and instinct has Silverfox going from looking at the child to running towards the father, as hopefully the sea-elf with the kitling can catch her.
Winnowill locksends ** Calm, Chosen. Larias is fine. Now. **
Sandspur gasps and manages to snatch Acedia in his arms as he sees Savith start to crumple. It's a quick, unprepared movement and the sea-elf manages to open a shallow cut along his side with his own spikes in his surprise...but Acedia is hardly even jostled. She gives a sqwauk of annoyance and tugs the Rafter's hair again, but settles quickly. Not so her rescuer, who stands staring at Savith, wide-eyed. He drops to one knee beside the crumpled Glider, heart racing. "Savith?" He reaches ouf one hand to shake the Chosen's shoulder. "Savith, wake up! Savith!"
You sense in a locksend to Winnowill, Savith: Larias does not respond. She even forgot to turn the message machine on, so there's not even a beep of reassurance.
Ragged breaths come from the glider, eyes wide and unseeing. It's like his hyperventalating. Can't anyone else hear the pouding in his ears? Come on, man! It's REALLY loud!! At the shakes, Savith turns his eyes to Sandspur, and blinks a few times before he seems to come back to himself, though his whispers words are mostly incoherent. Somthing about yes, fine now, and my lord, but really, it's all mostly a jumbled mess. Maybe he's too bsy locksending. Yeah, that's it. Locksending.
You locksend to Winnowill, Savith's heart is racing in his chest, frightened for that part of his soul he needs. But at Winnowill's word that she is fine, he tries to calm. But just like when she crashlanded into the aerie and was taken to Her to heal, Savith is far from settled.
You locksend to Larias, Savith's heart is racing in his chest, frightened for that part of his soul he needs. But at Winnowill's word that she is fine, he tries to calm. But just like when she crashlanded into the aerie and was taken to Her to heal, Savith is far from settled.
You sense in a locksend, Winnowill soothes your mind with a soft murmuring hum resounding in your mind. **All is well Savith, she is with me, I must see to a complication from her bearing your child. One that has yet to be fully resolved. She will be returned as soon as the task is done. See to your Child, Larias will wish to see her once she returns.**
Silverfox frowns as she kneels on the other side, then looks at Sandspur, "Is he making any sense to you?" One hand flutters up to touch the Glider's shoulder, then falls away again before coming close to actually *touching* him.
Savith takes a few more steadying breaths, his eyes closing a moment before they open. "Yes, yes, fine. I'm fine," he rambled, his voice sounding nothing like the cold and distant, in-control voice that Silverfox heard eariler. A hand moves to try to find a place to put it, so physically push himself to his feet. Sad that Silverfox is there, for since he's not looking, he might bump into her.
You locksend, to Winnowill, Larias: Savith calms slightly, but is not completely assured. Cue Worried Glider. **Yes, My Lord. I shall wait.** Waiting. ACK! Waiting room, blows, man!
"No, not really." Sandspur swallows hard, trying to put his worry aside to *think*, curse it. Then Savith stands and Sandspur finds himself offering his shoulder as one arm automatically moves to go around the Glider's waist for support. "Careful."
Silverfox would wonder what is happening with the kitling, but in the meantime, her leg is used as a pushing post, so she grabs for the arm anyway, though with a different instinct, to help the glider up. "What happened?"
"Nothing," Savith lies promptly, not realizing just how much help he needs getting to his feet as he leans on both elves more than he would have liked to, had he been fully in his right mind. Then suddenly, he looks around. "Where's Acedia," he demands, voice raising in fear. Even his eyes seem wilder, the pupils dilated.
Sandspur quickly indicates the little one cradled against his body with the otehr arm. "She's right here, Savith. Not even shaken up. See?"
Silverfox believes that like she believes being in the Mountain is healthy for her - but that's just her expression. Besides thinned lips, she says nothing, and just makes sure the Glider stays standing before letting go and stepping away.
For his part, Sandspur makes no move to distance himself from Savith, and his grey eyes have lost little concern despite the fact that Savith is on his feet.
Gimme gimme gimme, the CHosen's eyes fairly scream as both hands reach for Acedia... leaving him with no support and he sways once again. "wooooooo," he murmurs, eyes closing again. The pain is slow to fade, and his world... upside down, it seems.
"Perhaps you should sit down, with the Kitling, Chosen, until your head stops spinning, yes?" comes the response from the silver haired elfess, as she watches.
"She's all settled for the moment, Savith. She's fine, I promise. I won't let anything happen to you...um...her." Sandspur smiles weakly. "But yes, sit down."
Savith nods, a hand reaching out for Silverfox, another for Sandspur. Savith needs some support here, and he knows it. "Yeah," he mutters. "Yeah. And some wine. Strong wine." Oh, and maybe he should contact Kureel. Yeah...
You locksend to Kureel, Savith's mind is a bit out of whack. **Brother....? I need... the night off.** Please?
Silverfox allows herself to be grabbed, and even to assist the Glider to a bench, if there is one to be had. "What happened?" she asks again, as she casts her eyes about for a wine pitcher. She's about ready to start drinking, if it comes down to that.
Sandspur helps guide Savith, though the three of them have to settle for a stone treestump in the absence of actual benches. He's got his arms full of Glider, so no fetching for him.
Ah, but Savith can send. If he's going to make himself dizzy sending ot his Brother for the night off, he might as well get some wine while he's at it, and to the kitchen his mind goes. **Wine, strong, now.** Oh, not even aplease. tsk tsk. Slumping to the stone stump, he lifts his gaze to Sandspur, hands reaching for his daughter again. HIs daughter, little Acedia, happily chewing and tangling Sandspur's golden tresses.
Silverfox tilts her head and steps back. And... because she's stubborn, "So... you ignoring the question, or just over-dizzy to hear it?" And just in case there is a question about what 'it' is, "What happened, in other words? Or should I wander back off to the Cavern, a'fore I start bothering you?"
Sandspur offers the infant up without pause, moving to stand behind Savith and act as a backrest should he need some surreptitious physical support.
Acedia fusses as Sandspur offers her over, pulling the rafter's hair with all she's got. Seeing this, the father sighs, muttering, "Nevermind. YOu hold her." Moss green eyes lift to Silverfox and a heavy sigh drifts from him. "My Lord has Summoned my mate, is all. I was not expecting... to feel anything. It's done now, and neither one will feel the other until all is fixed." His voice sounds a touch more hollow that it was in the past.
... Even without certain preconcieved notions, that does /not/ sound good. Silverfox winces slightly, then nods, before glancing towards the way that Savah went. After a moment, she nods to both, and says, "Shade and Sweetwater... I think I had best see how my companions are doing..."
Sandspur swallows hard. "Is..." He can't really finish the sentence. After that, how can he think that poor Larias is all right?
Savith nods to both, his words soft and directed to Sandpur, "She will be. My Lord is a most gifted Healer." But what exactly is wrong, Savith has not yet stated. In Sandspur's arms, the child settles again, little hands grabbing at anything that sticks up. Ooh, spikey!
Sandspur gasps and quickly tucks his elbows in. Close call, and definitely a hair-greying one. He grimaces down at the cut already there. Clumsy foam-head. "Well...I suppose that's good."
Wine incoming. Savith takes the decanter, but does not yet drink. "Very," he sighs, and just sits there. "Thank you. For catching her," he says after a moment, eyes on the wine.
Acedie giggles and grabs at the beads again, bouncing in Sandspur's arms. "Ah! Ah! Ah!"
Monday, September 6, 2004
Monday, August 16, 2004
A Fish Out of Water
MONDAY, AUGUST 16, 2004
Logfile from Two Moons - Savith.
Rose Garden
Within this garden must be thousands of rosebushes, for everywhere is a new bud, or a fresh blossom. Every colour of rose imaginable is here, and the scent is deep, yet not overpowering. Rock lattices over a clear crystal ceiling which allows sunlight in to feed the roses. Some of the crystal seems to have been removed to allow for smooth airflow, and the air is moist, cool, and fresh. Along the winding path sit some benches, shaped out of the stone of the Mountain itself.
Tsoran pays no further attention to Ktai, his attention on the more exotic visitor. "I should be quite surprised if there was much in your history you were inclined to hide, Savah. Yours is such an...open mind."
Ktai much prefers to be dismissed by Tsoran, rather than to be the subject of his running commentary and observations, and so, once she sees that he has dismissed her, her shoulders drop slightly, and she almost relaxes into a more comfortable position sitting beside Savah. Not having anything worthwhile to offer, or perhaps she knows that if she speaks, she's likely to be under scrutiny again, she keeps her peace and simply waits.
From above, Savith drops in, literally. His eyes flick across the scene, before one brow lifts. "Entertaining our guests, Brother," he asks lightly of Tsoran, a faint near-smirk on his face.
Tsoran looks up at Savith, inclining his head slightly in greeting. "Savith. I do trust you have no objections."
Savith merely shrugs, arms crossing as he leans on a bit of stone near by. "I'm not your keeper," he retorts, eyes going to Savah breifly.
Savah looks towards the new arrival, and nods her head towards Savith, "Greetings Savith." Her eyes flit to each of those present from where she sits, with Ktai beside her, her smile growing more and more.
Ktai looks up as Savith glides in and her eyebrow quirks at the interplay between Chosen. To Savith, she offers a faint smile, for she has found him to be pleasantly tolerable, and to see his reaction to Tsoran might go far in ranking him as more approachable in Ktai's mind.
Tsoran considers this. "No, I do believe Kureel resumed his position once more." Narrow gaze flickers briefly to Ktai.
Savith gives Savah a light nod in reply, murmuring her name faintly. Ktai is likewise given a mere nod, though her name isn't uttered. His eyes return to Tsoran as the other Chosen replies, the words making Savith purse his lips faintly. "Hmmm," is all he replies with, lips never parting at the sound. A single brow lifts again, twitching up, before falling back to 'normal'.
As the by play between 'Broothers' begins, Savah goes as silent as Ktai on the matter, listening to the tones and inflections in voices.
Oh, that was too much. Ktai almost laughs softly, but manages to collect herself before her laugh escapes, and busies herself tidying the knot of her purple shawl.
Tsoran turns back to Savah. "It is a somewhat unique situation for the Chosen to have so many visitors of a... diplomatic kind. Some measure of adjustment has been needed. I do hope none of our visitors have had cause for complaint."
A locksend freezes Ktai motionless for a moment, and she remains still for a very long time before she slowly looks up and across to Tsoran, something hidden flickering through her eyes.
"The only disturbance I have witnessed thus far was between the stargazer and one of the go-backs, though, that was more harmless than anything else," Savah replies to Tsoran. She then turns her eyes on Ktai, one hand going to touch the glideress's own, a send drifting privately.
Savith's eyes remain on his brother. 'adjustment,' the Chosne repeats to himself, smirking. 'If that's what you want to call it.' Ktai's laughter isn't overlooked, for Savith's eyes flicked to her for the breifest of moments. The pause in Tsoran's voice makes Savith narrow his eyes, turning his gaze to scan the ladies. Ktai's reacted to something. No doubt his brother is the cause. Well, let's hope the elfess does nothing to force Savith's hand inthe matter. After all, the Cage is so terribly close by.
Ktai turns to look to Savah for a moment, a send slipping out, but to Tsoran in reply before she offers a pale and wan smile to the Mother of Memory. "Nothing more than a difference of opinions, Savah. Kindness begets kindness... and insults merit silence." After all, she promised Rayek, didn't she?
"Or extra shifts," Savith adds under his breath, a half-grin starting to dare to form. This ought to be fun.
Tsoran raises an eyebrow. "Most definitely a story there. But perhaps one of the 'hidden' ones." He looks to Savah, picking up the thread of earlier conversation. "But I do have to object, sweet Savah, to your implication that secrecy is linked merely to a lack of perfection."
Savah shakes her head, the humored expression she'd thus far carried upon her visage fades, disappointment and sadness replacing it. The timbre of her voice reflects the change in thought and mood as well, a long slow sigh slips from between her lips, her brows furrow softly, "No Tsoran, I stated no mind, however open, is perfect. There are flaws in us all, be those flaws from secrets or else."
Tsoran locksends ** Our Ktai does enjoy playing the martyr, doesn't she? **
You locksend ** A martyr, Brother,** Savith replies, curiousity twinging his send a faint orange. **Do explain. ** to Tsoran.
Tsoran says "Ah, but you stated this in response to my claim that you were unlikely to hold any secrets. Do you disagree with my assertion, then?"
Tsoran locksends ** I commented to Ktai on her smiling reception of yourself. She immediately acted as if this was a grave insult. Should it be? **
Savith lifts a brow, eyes on Tsoran. His stance goes from faintly amused to lightly curious. Then, at a private reply, Savith starts laughing. It's a deep hearty laugh, centered in his chest. He has to take gasps for air when and where he can. His eyes go to Ktai, sparkle a moment, only to drop him into laughter a new. Something, it is very clear, has so completely amused the Chosen. He can't even get his mind to settle enough to reply.
Ktai sighs wearily, watching the dance of words begin between Savah and Tsoran. Privately, she's glad it isn't herself in that dance, though she'd rather not see Savah scrutinized so. As for herself, she returns her thoughts to her shawl, settling it on her shoulders before looking up to Savith in a cross of amusement and surprise.
From afar, Ktai grins
"That I hold no secrets?" Savah asks softly.
Tsoran steps closer to Savah, meeting her gaze.
Savith fights for the laughter to subside. When it finally does, it's with a big smile and a hand held out to Ktai that he speaks. "Come on, Ktai. I'll get you some lunch."
You sense in a locksend, Tsoran
Savah lifts her gaze fully, honey hued eyes settling onto Tsoran's own without fear. She sends something privately to him then, in response to his own locksend.
Oh, the amusement in Ktai's eyes as she rises to her feet after a moment of consideration. "Thank you, Savith. I believe that I would enjoy that." Her skirts ripple at her feet as she pauses, looking back to Savah for a moment.
Savith steps from the wall, hand still held out to be taken by Ktai. He nods as she accepts his lunch invitation, flicking a lock send at his Brother.
You locksend ** Enjoying yourself? ** to Tsoran.
Tsoran locksends ** I would ask the same, Brother. **
You locksend ** I am now. ** to Tsoran.
Tsoran inclines his head politely to Savith and Ktai as they depart.
Only after Savah replies to her, does Ktai extend her own hand, fingers softly darker against Savith's fingers. She smiles to Savah, and moves to follow Savith.
Rock Garden
Hidden lights weave tangled shadows in the frozen beauty of the gardens. A dim memory of the dappled play of sunlight through leaves, the patches of light reflect off manycolored stone shapes that echo the essence of trees and bushes and tangled vines; and plants whose like has never been seen on the world of Two Moons.
Several reaching pillars sprout branchlike tendrils that reach for walls and ceiling as if to support them. Clusters of smaller shapes, bringing to mind flowers and birds, emerge from the clinging branches - skillfully drawn forth from smaller veins of softly colored rock.
Seats shaped like crouched animals, beaked and taloned, have been covered with soft furs to invite to restful contemplation of the gardens.
The distant walls of the garden appears as an interlaced mass of entwined rock, forming loops and mazes, scattered with random bulbs bursting with the promise of leaves, or flowers..or other things.
Drafts can be felt from deep within the walls, hinting at hidden shafts and openings.
Savith leads the way out, gently holding Ktai's hand in his own. THe smile remains, as does the soft chuckle as he walks, headed toward the Dining Hall.
As she moves with him, she looks to him thoughtfully. "You did that on purpose."
"Yes," Savith replies, still chuckling. "Yes I did. Serves him right, that jackass."
Oh, and now she laughs. It's a soft laugh, and one that perhaps the Mountain has not heard in a very long time, for it's the laugh that used to ring across the room when she used to be asked to a dance by wither Sothel or Valdir so very long ago. "I will admit that he has a certain... lack of charm about him."
"You can say that again," Savith agrees, walking amiably. He laughs again, shaking his head at the humor of the situation. His laugh, on the other hand, rather than being one long missed within the mountain halls, is a very new addition, one brought on by finding the soulmate that actually calms him rather than aggrivates him, and filling holes in his past and aches in his heart.
She moves along with him, a slow and steady pace, though she may seem relieved at the chance to get away from Tsoran's scrutiny. Granted, she is not entirely at ease with a Chosen, for there is that old knowledge that lies within her heart of betrayals and the fear that all Chosen are blindly Loyal to Winnowill and Her desires. "He took me to task for smiling at you."
Savith chuckles at that again, nodding. "Yes. He mentioned it. That's what I've been laughing at," he replies, smiling. His steps are slow and carefree, just moving throught the halls of his home. He shakes his head lightly at it all, chuckling every soon often.
She too shakes her head. "I have tried very hard to be respectable and polite... but it is increasingly difficult in the face of his insults." She hasn't even lowered herself to an insult yet... unless you count that one moment where she took leave of her senses with Kureel.
Savith shrugs lightly, grinning at everything that's been going on this afternoon. "Well, considering it's Tsoran, I think you've been doing rather well," he replies. There's the briefest of pauses in shich he turns to look at Ktai, the elfess at his side. "But do continue to restrain yourself. I'm certain he'd love any excuse to see the Cage warmed by an elfin body."
"I think that I have done enough time within the Cage, myself." For oh she has, indeed she has. She pauses for a moment, her skirts swirling to a rustling stop as she looks to him thoughtfully with unfathomable dark eyes. "You seem different from the other Chosen. I find myself pleasantly surprised."
Savith slows to a stop at Ktai's side, hand still holding hers lightly. He turns to face her, to meet her dark gaze with his own mossgreen eyes. Once, not so long ago, he would have avoiding her direct gaze. He would have looked her in the face, anywhere in tha face, anywhere but the eyes. The wolfriders called him Souldancer for a reason. But now. He meets her gaze frankly, the smiles fading as she studies him. "All in the name of diplomacy," he retorts, though one has to ask, is that all there is to it?
An eyebrow quirks, for she might suspect that there is more inherent to the difference, but if he wishes to shield himself with the cloak of diplomacy, she will not force the issue. "We do a great many things in the name of diplomacy." There's that faint little smile again, as if she knows the better but will not press it further.
To that the Chosen smirks, eyes starting to warm before he turns them away to continue on toward the Dining Hall. High ones! That might have been a blush, for Ktai's statement makes Savith remember all the things he's... ah... done.. in the name of diplomacy. Again, just as with Tsoran, Savith merely hmmms his reply.
Bemused, she moves along with him, choosing to walk over flight, though he may not have noticed. His noncommittal reply is noted, pondered, and then filed away into the silence that falls upon her for a moment, before she risks a comment again. "I hope that your kindness towards me will not result in ostracizing. I am an exile, after all."
Savith snickers at that verbal commit. "It shan't," he replies almost warmly, his steps sure and certain, as if the Chosen has been walking a lot as of late. "My lifemate was also an exile," he offers, eyes sliding to glance at Ktai.
"Is, in many ways still," Savith adds a moment later, voice softer, almost as if an afterthought.
Ktai cants her head slightly, looking to Savith in a rather sort of surprise. "Did she seek to return to the Mountain of her own free will?" Perhaps she does not know who his lifemate is. It's likely the case, as she has not been Within the Mountain for long, nor has she made herself privy to anything that has gone on. In fact, she's been holed up in the Guest Chambers more often than not... possibly to avoid confrontations with Tsoran or Kureel.
No, most likely she doesn't, since said lifemate has kept herself within his private living chambers with their youngest, in an attempt to keep contact with Outsiders at little to none. "She didn't, actually," Savith admits. "I sort of forced her hand into the matter... then our eyes met."
You sense in a locksend, Sandspur's wordless, sleep-heavy send of greeting brushes over your mind; despite assurances that he was fine, the hunt, flight, and the scuffle drained the recouperating Rafter.
You locksend to Sandspur, Savith is just mellowing after some hilarity, and so his send is marginally warm. Of course, discussing how he tricked Larias into returning to the mountain is chilling him slightly, there's a happy ending to it, for he Recognized, did he not? In anycase, the Chosen replies, the words soft and gentle, as one would send to an infant. **Sandspur, you're awake. I hope you slept well.**
Ktai nods slowly, in understanding. "My own Recognition came as quite a shock as well, though it was not destined to be anything more than Recognition." She doesn't mention the fighting, the deathwish, the wildness that took over and brought her to a unique understanding of the Wolfriders, nor does she mention the threats that her own children made... one of which is within these very halls.
Sandspur locksends ** Very well. **affection, pleasure at the greeting, humor** And there are no holes in your cushions. **
Savith hmms again softly, mind flickering at some locksends. "I understand," the Chosen replies, a smile at something sent combatting with that deep frown of past pain.
You locksend ** For that I am glad,** he replies, a heartache competing with the touch of humor that tries to echo your own. **Everyone else sleeps still? ** to Sandspur.
Sandspur locksends ** Yes. Savith, what's wrong? <> **
Both eyebrows arch, and the exiled glideress looks concerned for a moment. "Is there something amiss?" He is, after all, a Chosen, and there is that Duty that she knows he will answer should it come to it. She isn't yet comfortable enough around him to not be concerned for her own throat, but she'll remain calm for now. No need to leap to conclusions with him. Yet.
You locksend ** Just a marginally unpleasant topic. But one grows stronger from such conversation, I think. But calm yourself. I am fine. ** to Sandspur.
And thank the High Ones for that. Savith has had it to the eartips with elfesses thinking the worse of him. To her question, the Chosen shakes his head, replying to a locksend before he speaks. "No, Ktai. Just a guest of mine that has woken. YOu were saying," he promptly softly, still waking toward the Dining Hall, taking the ...ah... scenic route?
The scenic route is what one gets within the Mountain when one chooses to walk instead of glide, for there are many stairs and long corridors that one must wander in lieu of simply flitting across the wide expanse and alighting within the room that you desire to be within. "Hm?" She asks almost conversationally. "Oh, I believe we were discussing Recognitions and lifemates." She, of course, hasn't mentioned her own status other than being Recognized.
Sandspur locksends ** If you're sure. <> **
Sandspur locksends ** I am a little hungry. <> I'd rather not wake the pretty one, though. **
"Hmmm," Savith replies for a moment, while his mind asks something. "We were," he continues, but he will not press on the subject of Ktai's unpleasant Recognitions, having had two more than any sane elf would have liked in his lifetime. Rather, the Chosen asks, "Are you happy with your life's choice?"
You locksend ** My thanks for that, Sandspur. Any amount of sleep she can get is a good thing. I am headed to the dining hall with another elfess. Would you like me to collect you? ** to Sandspur.
At that, Ktai tilts her head and looks to him. "Choice in which? Mate, or else?" There is a great deal of vagueness within his question, and she would like to know what it is that she is being asked.
"Mate," Savith clarifies, eyes flicking upward at a send. One brow is lifted, as if he too is awaiting an answer. Until this conversation in his head is over, he's only partially paying attention, and that's clear.
You sense in a locksend, Sandspur perks up, the earlier incident with Generi forgotten or at least not being dwelt upon. New! Must explore! **I'd like that, yes!**
She nods thoughtfully, pondering her reply. "Well, he's hotheaded, arrogant, often times pompous... and a third of my youngest daughter's age... but I do love him, and that's what counts, isn't it?" The entire description is given in a lightly amused voice, as if she's wondered at her own sanity for choosing as she has.
Savith sighs lightly, not really having paid attention to the description, though what had heard it can't help but envision Kureel.. at least unti lthe age is mentioned. But unable to dwell on it, Savith's shoulders tense, and he pulls his hand from her grasp gently. "Forgive me, Ktai. I must go and collect another for food. I shall rejoin you in the Dining Hall, if you wish to continue this conversation." And, not waiting for a reply, the Chosen rockets off through the mountain and toward his room.
Tenspan's Hall
This room is surprisingly sculpted to an interior room, no bas relief trees or birds adorn the majority of this room, and its large hollowness even as the glowlight dims into rock rafters above is imposing. In the middle of the oval-shaped room is a huge, long table with many well-crafted stone chairs where sitting comfortably is a simple goal. Some of the chairs look newer, almost hastily sculpted to resemble the others, but the chair at the head of the table is, like the room, a glorious work of art.
Three tunnels snake at odd angles away from this room. One is large and designed to handle a great deal of flow in and out of the ajoining hall, another, smaller, likely leads to the kitchen where food is prepared.
The regal Glider floats into the hall at a pace slightly slower than normal, allowing the Rafter tagging at his heels to kep up. Though the blond, barefoot, and bare-chested stranger to the mountain walks with only a trace of a limp, he is obviously gawking at everything -- his lips are slightly parted and his wide grey eyes flick to every corner of the room, up, down, and then circuit again to see if he missed anything.
The Chosen's earlier 'guest' is sitting quietly at a table, dutifully ignoring the stares and pointed sent and spoken whispers from the kitchen staff. No doubt they're talking about her again, and they aren't doing much to hide it, instead opting to whisper loudly in accompanyment to sent gossip. She's busy trying not to care, however, and focus on the water that she has managed to acquire.
Savith drops to a gentle landing as he and Sandspur arrive, sending a snap at the kitchen staff. **Quit your gossip and get back to work. Raw fish, water, wine, and fruit, now.** The Chosen sighs faintly at the chattering sparrows, walking toward the table.
Watch the staff scatter and scramble to get the Chosen what he... requested. Granted, it wasn't a request, but the Chosen aren't required to be courteous and polite all of the time. The elfess at the table lifts her head to look over at the send, and offers a faint smile of thanks to Savith, for she certainly isn't anyone to tell them what to do, or even to leave her alone. In fact, to even attempt it might result in one of those 'problem' moments.
Sandspur continues to gape in Savith's wake. In some ways, he considers the living caves in the Rafter territory to be more beautiful...but he has never seen art on this scale before. A little bone or coral shaping, yes, but this...to shape your entire _world_...is an overwhelming concept to one who is far more used to being at the mercy of nature at its rawest. He bumps into the table, then looks at it curiously, and finally looks up to notice Ktai. He smiled cautiously, an expression not a litle bit like the sun peeping out from a wisp of cloud. "Clear skies. I'm Sandspur."
Savith narrows his eyes at one particular little gossip, making her flit from the ground to get out of his way, before he turns back to Ktai and the table. The smile is replied to by a faint grin and a light send. **Annoying little twitter birds.**
Sandspur gives Savith a wicked little grin. **Am not!**
That makes Savith snicker once, replying, "Not you."
Sandspur laughs a little. **You're more patient than most of my tribe, then.**
She laughs at the Chosen's comment, and nods to the elf that she does not know. "Clear... skies to you." it is not a greeting that she herself uses often, though what her greeting of choice may be remains unknown. "The staff will talk... I have little doubt that they will talk all the more after this." And she'll have to warn Rayek, lest he overhear something that isn't the case.
Savith rolls his eyes lightly, sitting across the table from Ktai. "Unfortunately, you're right," Savith grumbles as the staff begins bringing out the meal. He watches Sandspur, refraining from offering aid up to the table just yet. Oh yes, the staff will talk! After all, Ktai and Savith WERE seen holding hands, ALL the way from the Rose Garden!
Sandspur regards the table and chairs as most might regard a strange tool. It has *some* use, obviously, but he's not sure just what. Well...the maiden is sitting. Maybe that's what's expected? The Rafter shrugs and takes a seat, trusting that Savith will probably just pluck him off of the chair if it's inappropriate.
Ktai laughs lightly again, though her comment seems that it should be more concerned than amused. "And if Rayek catches word before I can tell him what was going on, he'll be shooting sparks from one side of the Mountain to the other faster than it takes to say it."
"Ah," Savith says, eyes widening and a faint smile forming. "So that's the arrogant one you were talking about." Sandspur's choice of chair can ONLY be wrong if he sat inthe big winged one, you knoe, the Lord's Chair. The Chosen shakes his head. "High Ones, and I though my lifemate was an odd choice." Not that he was ENTIRELY in control of the choice, but still.
Sandspur listens, absorbing information like a sponge. "Is your lifemate here?" Sandspur asks curiously.
She rises to her feet, her skirts cascading a shimmering darkness all about her legs and pooling in ripples at her feet, and she looks to one of the many exits. "Indeed he is, and I'd better go speak with him now... before one of those chattering little birds get to him first." With a faintly apologetic smile, she moves towards the exit, pausing to turn back to Savith. "I will have to take you up on your offer of a meal at a later time, I fear. May the High Ones look kindly upon you."
Savith nods in reply, smiling lightly at Ktai. No worded reply does he give, however.He just watches her leave before turning back to the table. With the feast served, Savith motions to it, eyes going back to Sandspur. "The fish is raw for you." See! Savith remembers!
Sandspur has to swallow the rush of wetness in his mouth before he speaks. "Thank you." The fact that Savith has recalled that little detail isn't entirely lost on Sandspur...he saw the Glider cooking his own and knows Savith must find it distasteful. Yes, he will certainly have to do something for his friend soon. He tilts his head to one side as he piles the leaf-thin slices of pale, red-veined meat before him. "Who are the ones serving?"
"The annoying sparrows," Savith replies, eyes falling upon one thin boned elfess. She lifts her gaze to him, swallows, then drops her eyes, pouring wine into the CHosen's goblet. Savith narrows his eyes at her, lips pressed into a thin line. He's served himself some of the raw fish, and watercrestnuts to munch on, fingers collecting the delicate meat slowly.
Sandspur,munching happily on his meal, misses the look that passes between Savith and the skinny maiden. Between his recouperation and the excitement of the day, the Rafter is starving, and it shows. He inhales the meat and its garnishes with good appetite, then regards the dark liquid in Savith's cup when he comes up for air. "Is that medicine?"
Savith was midswallow, and Sandspur's question, so innocent, makes him cough as he tried to chuckle and swallow all at the same time. See, some rafters can breath water, but no elf can breath wine.
Sandspur tries to decide if he's offended or not, and decides to save it for after Savith has stopped coughing. He stands quickly and moves to thump his companion on the back a few times.
Savith waves off the help, getting his throat cleared. "I'm fine. Ahh.. It's wine," he answers finely, clearing his throat again. "Hmm.."
Well, the word sounds half-familiar, but not really. Sandspur regards the decanter, considering. "What's it for?
"Drinking," the Chosen replies, bringing more to his lips to clera his throat.
Obvious enough. Sandspur looks between the decanter and the extra goblet for a moment, then reaches for both, ignoring the server.
Savith watches Sandspur, sipping at his own wine. He clears his throat again, then reaches for some more food.
Sandspur seeing that he's not going to be stopped, Sandspur pours himself a generous cup and sniffs carefully. The smell makes his nose tingle a little, but nothing horrible...just new. He introduces himself to wine with hardy gulp, struggles with it for a second, then manages to swallow (even if if does make him go pop-eyed). **It stings!**
Savith laughs heartly at that, setting the wine goblet down. **Yeah, it can at first,** the Chosen sends, too busy laughing to speak. "But it grows on you."
Sandspur frowns a little at being laughed at and turns wordlessly back to his goblet, determined not to let a stinging berry juice get the better of him. He finishes the whole thing off in another gulp and reaches for the decanter again.
Still chuckling, Savith's eyes widen as Sandspur moves for more. "You might want to take it slow there," he tries to warn the Rafter.
**I'm thirsty,** Sandspur sends back stubbornly, trying to ignore the slight tearing of his eyes and the slight dizziness that comes with drinking that fast without a breath. Oh, yes. Breath. He remembers to breath before he starts gulping his second cup.
Savith shakes his head lightly, and floats the decanter away, one hand reaching to get Sandspur's wrist, if he can. "I think you've had plenty."
Sandspur doesn't try to avoid and shrugs slightly. "If you think so." Maybe some water wouldn't be such a bad idea after all. Tethered by his wrist and not really able to get comfortably back to his seat, Sandspur opts to perch on the edge of the table, swinging his legs. "That wasn't bad." He feels pretty good, actually...fuzzy, warm, and his leg is giving him no pain. He grins. "So it is medicine," he says aloud.
Savith sends for the water as he lets go of Sandspur's wrist. "No, it's not medicine. It's just wine, and if you're not used to it, over doing it is bad." He should know. His lifemate... oh bou. what a drinker a few turns back.
Sandspur laughs a little. "Well, it helped my leg. Doesn't ache at all now." A carafe of water settles at the Rafter's elbow and he carefully pours, spilling just a few drops down the side of the goblet, though he almost upsets everything setting it back down. He manages his drink without disaster, however. "How many rooms are here?" he asks softly, looking around as he remembers to be awed again.
"A lot," Savith replies, sitting back, eyes on the rafter. "I've never bothered to count." Cause, he hasn't. What's the point? The shapers could jsut as easily add or remove rooms whenever they wanted as leave everything alone. He continues eating lightly, almost enjoying the day off he's got from all the hunting and running around. That last hunt really helped.
"It's..." Sandspur goes quiet for a time as he tries to think of a good word. "We all build homes," he says finally, "but not like this. Not half-alive...looks like it'd flow under your fingers if you touched it."
Savith just shrugs at that. "If you're a rock shaper, I suppose." He drinks a bit more, gagging himself with food and drink. "If you'd like a tour," he offers after a moment of chewing.
Sandspur considers for a moment, then nods. "I'd like that. I want to see how you live. I've been swimming around forever, but I never saw any other elves until recently. It's happened so fast..."
Savith nods, munching on some fruit. "I'd be happy to show you around, at least until Duty summons me," the Chosen adds. "Whenever you're ready." SOmething's put a burr under his butt. Maybe it's the fear of a drunken rafter?
Logfile from Two Moons - Savith.
Rose Garden
Within this garden must be thousands of rosebushes, for everywhere is a new bud, or a fresh blossom. Every colour of rose imaginable is here, and the scent is deep, yet not overpowering. Rock lattices over a clear crystal ceiling which allows sunlight in to feed the roses. Some of the crystal seems to have been removed to allow for smooth airflow, and the air is moist, cool, and fresh. Along the winding path sit some benches, shaped out of the stone of the Mountain itself.
Tsoran pays no further attention to Ktai, his attention on the more exotic visitor. "I should be quite surprised if there was much in your history you were inclined to hide, Savah. Yours is such an...open mind."
Ktai much prefers to be dismissed by Tsoran, rather than to be the subject of his running commentary and observations, and so, once she sees that he has dismissed her, her shoulders drop slightly, and she almost relaxes into a more comfortable position sitting beside Savah. Not having anything worthwhile to offer, or perhaps she knows that if she speaks, she's likely to be under scrutiny again, she keeps her peace and simply waits.
From above, Savith drops in, literally. His eyes flick across the scene, before one brow lifts. "Entertaining our guests, Brother," he asks lightly of Tsoran, a faint near-smirk on his face.
Tsoran looks up at Savith, inclining his head slightly in greeting. "Savith. I do trust you have no objections."
Savith merely shrugs, arms crossing as he leans on a bit of stone near by. "I'm not your keeper," he retorts, eyes going to Savah breifly.
Savah looks towards the new arrival, and nods her head towards Savith, "Greetings Savith." Her eyes flit to each of those present from where she sits, with Ktai beside her, her smile growing more and more.
Ktai looks up as Savith glides in and her eyebrow quirks at the interplay between Chosen. To Savith, she offers a faint smile, for she has found him to be pleasantly tolerable, and to see his reaction to Tsoran might go far in ranking him as more approachable in Ktai's mind.
Tsoran considers this. "No, I do believe Kureel resumed his position once more." Narrow gaze flickers briefly to Ktai.
Savith gives Savah a light nod in reply, murmuring her name faintly. Ktai is likewise given a mere nod, though her name isn't uttered. His eyes return to Tsoran as the other Chosen replies, the words making Savith purse his lips faintly. "Hmmm," is all he replies with, lips never parting at the sound. A single brow lifts again, twitching up, before falling back to 'normal'.
As the by play between 'Broothers' begins, Savah goes as silent as Ktai on the matter, listening to the tones and inflections in voices.
Oh, that was too much. Ktai almost laughs softly, but manages to collect herself before her laugh escapes, and busies herself tidying the knot of her purple shawl.
Tsoran turns back to Savah. "It is a somewhat unique situation for the Chosen to have so many visitors of a... diplomatic kind. Some measure of adjustment has been needed. I do hope none of our visitors have had cause for complaint."
A locksend freezes Ktai motionless for a moment, and she remains still for a very long time before she slowly looks up and across to Tsoran, something hidden flickering through her eyes.
"The only disturbance I have witnessed thus far was between the stargazer and one of the go-backs, though, that was more harmless than anything else," Savah replies to Tsoran. She then turns her eyes on Ktai, one hand going to touch the glideress's own, a send drifting privately.
Savith's eyes remain on his brother. 'adjustment,' the Chosne repeats to himself, smirking. 'If that's what you want to call it.' Ktai's laughter isn't overlooked, for Savith's eyes flicked to her for the breifest of moments. The pause in Tsoran's voice makes Savith narrow his eyes, turning his gaze to scan the ladies. Ktai's reacted to something. No doubt his brother is the cause. Well, let's hope the elfess does nothing to force Savith's hand inthe matter. After all, the Cage is so terribly close by.
Ktai turns to look to Savah for a moment, a send slipping out, but to Tsoran in reply before she offers a pale and wan smile to the Mother of Memory. "Nothing more than a difference of opinions, Savah. Kindness begets kindness... and insults merit silence." After all, she promised Rayek, didn't she?
"Or extra shifts," Savith adds under his breath, a half-grin starting to dare to form. This ought to be fun.
Tsoran raises an eyebrow. "Most definitely a story there. But perhaps one of the 'hidden' ones." He looks to Savah, picking up the thread of earlier conversation. "But I do have to object, sweet Savah, to your implication that secrecy is linked merely to a lack of perfection."
Savah shakes her head, the humored expression she'd thus far carried upon her visage fades, disappointment and sadness replacing it. The timbre of her voice reflects the change in thought and mood as well, a long slow sigh slips from between her lips, her brows furrow softly, "No Tsoran, I stated no mind, however open, is perfect. There are flaws in us all, be those flaws from secrets or else."
Tsoran locksends ** Our Ktai does enjoy playing the martyr, doesn't she? **
You locksend ** A martyr, Brother,** Savith replies, curiousity twinging his send a faint orange. **Do explain. ** to Tsoran.
Tsoran says "Ah, but you stated this in response to my claim that you were unlikely to hold any secrets. Do you disagree with my assertion, then?"
Tsoran locksends ** I commented to Ktai on her smiling reception of yourself. She immediately acted as if this was a grave insult. Should it be? **
Savith lifts a brow, eyes on Tsoran. His stance goes from faintly amused to lightly curious. Then, at a private reply, Savith starts laughing. It's a deep hearty laugh, centered in his chest. He has to take gasps for air when and where he can. His eyes go to Ktai, sparkle a moment, only to drop him into laughter a new. Something, it is very clear, has so completely amused the Chosen. He can't even get his mind to settle enough to reply.
Ktai sighs wearily, watching the dance of words begin between Savah and Tsoran. Privately, she's glad it isn't herself in that dance, though she'd rather not see Savah scrutinized so. As for herself, she returns her thoughts to her shawl, settling it on her shoulders before looking up to Savith in a cross of amusement and surprise.
From afar, Ktai grins
"That I hold no secrets?" Savah asks softly.
Tsoran steps closer to Savah, meeting her gaze.
Savith fights for the laughter to subside. When it finally does, it's with a big smile and a hand held out to Ktai that he speaks. "Come on, Ktai. I'll get you some lunch."
You sense in a locksend, Tsoran
Savah lifts her gaze fully, honey hued eyes settling onto Tsoran's own without fear. She sends something privately to him then, in response to his own locksend.
Oh, the amusement in Ktai's eyes as she rises to her feet after a moment of consideration. "Thank you, Savith. I believe that I would enjoy that." Her skirts ripple at her feet as she pauses, looking back to Savah for a moment.
Savith steps from the wall, hand still held out to be taken by Ktai. He nods as she accepts his lunch invitation, flicking a lock send at his Brother.
You locksend ** Enjoying yourself? ** to Tsoran.
Tsoran locksends ** I would ask the same, Brother. **
You locksend ** I am now. ** to Tsoran.
Tsoran inclines his head politely to Savith and Ktai as they depart.
Only after Savah replies to her, does Ktai extend her own hand, fingers softly darker against Savith's fingers. She smiles to Savah, and moves to follow Savith.
Rock Garden
Hidden lights weave tangled shadows in the frozen beauty of the gardens. A dim memory of the dappled play of sunlight through leaves, the patches of light reflect off manycolored stone shapes that echo the essence of trees and bushes and tangled vines; and plants whose like has never been seen on the world of Two Moons.
Several reaching pillars sprout branchlike tendrils that reach for walls and ceiling as if to support them. Clusters of smaller shapes, bringing to mind flowers and birds, emerge from the clinging branches - skillfully drawn forth from smaller veins of softly colored rock.
Seats shaped like crouched animals, beaked and taloned, have been covered with soft furs to invite to restful contemplation of the gardens.
The distant walls of the garden appears as an interlaced mass of entwined rock, forming loops and mazes, scattered with random bulbs bursting with the promise of leaves, or flowers..or other things.
Drafts can be felt from deep within the walls, hinting at hidden shafts and openings.
Savith leads the way out, gently holding Ktai's hand in his own. THe smile remains, as does the soft chuckle as he walks, headed toward the Dining Hall.
As she moves with him, she looks to him thoughtfully. "You did that on purpose."
"Yes," Savith replies, still chuckling. "Yes I did. Serves him right, that jackass."
Oh, and now she laughs. It's a soft laugh, and one that perhaps the Mountain has not heard in a very long time, for it's the laugh that used to ring across the room when she used to be asked to a dance by wither Sothel or Valdir so very long ago. "I will admit that he has a certain... lack of charm about him."
"You can say that again," Savith agrees, walking amiably. He laughs again, shaking his head at the humor of the situation. His laugh, on the other hand, rather than being one long missed within the mountain halls, is a very new addition, one brought on by finding the soulmate that actually calms him rather than aggrivates him, and filling holes in his past and aches in his heart.
She moves along with him, a slow and steady pace, though she may seem relieved at the chance to get away from Tsoran's scrutiny. Granted, she is not entirely at ease with a Chosen, for there is that old knowledge that lies within her heart of betrayals and the fear that all Chosen are blindly Loyal to Winnowill and Her desires. "He took me to task for smiling at you."
Savith chuckles at that again, nodding. "Yes. He mentioned it. That's what I've been laughing at," he replies, smiling. His steps are slow and carefree, just moving throught the halls of his home. He shakes his head lightly at it all, chuckling every soon often.
She too shakes her head. "I have tried very hard to be respectable and polite... but it is increasingly difficult in the face of his insults." She hasn't even lowered herself to an insult yet... unless you count that one moment where she took leave of her senses with Kureel.
Savith shrugs lightly, grinning at everything that's been going on this afternoon. "Well, considering it's Tsoran, I think you've been doing rather well," he replies. There's the briefest of pauses in shich he turns to look at Ktai, the elfess at his side. "But do continue to restrain yourself. I'm certain he'd love any excuse to see the Cage warmed by an elfin body."
"I think that I have done enough time within the Cage, myself." For oh she has, indeed she has. She pauses for a moment, her skirts swirling to a rustling stop as she looks to him thoughtfully with unfathomable dark eyes. "You seem different from the other Chosen. I find myself pleasantly surprised."
Savith slows to a stop at Ktai's side, hand still holding hers lightly. He turns to face her, to meet her dark gaze with his own mossgreen eyes. Once, not so long ago, he would have avoiding her direct gaze. He would have looked her in the face, anywhere in tha face, anywhere but the eyes. The wolfriders called him Souldancer for a reason. But now. He meets her gaze frankly, the smiles fading as she studies him. "All in the name of diplomacy," he retorts, though one has to ask, is that all there is to it?
An eyebrow quirks, for she might suspect that there is more inherent to the difference, but if he wishes to shield himself with the cloak of diplomacy, she will not force the issue. "We do a great many things in the name of diplomacy." There's that faint little smile again, as if she knows the better but will not press it further.
To that the Chosen smirks, eyes starting to warm before he turns them away to continue on toward the Dining Hall. High ones! That might have been a blush, for Ktai's statement makes Savith remember all the things he's... ah... done.. in the name of diplomacy. Again, just as with Tsoran, Savith merely hmmms his reply.
Bemused, she moves along with him, choosing to walk over flight, though he may not have noticed. His noncommittal reply is noted, pondered, and then filed away into the silence that falls upon her for a moment, before she risks a comment again. "I hope that your kindness towards me will not result in ostracizing. I am an exile, after all."
Savith snickers at that verbal commit. "It shan't," he replies almost warmly, his steps sure and certain, as if the Chosen has been walking a lot as of late. "My lifemate was also an exile," he offers, eyes sliding to glance at Ktai.
"Is, in many ways still," Savith adds a moment later, voice softer, almost as if an afterthought.
Ktai cants her head slightly, looking to Savith in a rather sort of surprise. "Did she seek to return to the Mountain of her own free will?" Perhaps she does not know who his lifemate is. It's likely the case, as she has not been Within the Mountain for long, nor has she made herself privy to anything that has gone on. In fact, she's been holed up in the Guest Chambers more often than not... possibly to avoid confrontations with Tsoran or Kureel.
No, most likely she doesn't, since said lifemate has kept herself within his private living chambers with their youngest, in an attempt to keep contact with Outsiders at little to none. "She didn't, actually," Savith admits. "I sort of forced her hand into the matter... then our eyes met."
You sense in a locksend, Sandspur's wordless, sleep-heavy send of greeting brushes over your mind; despite assurances that he was fine, the hunt, flight, and the scuffle drained the recouperating Rafter.
You locksend to Sandspur, Savith is just mellowing after some hilarity, and so his send is marginally warm. Of course, discussing how he tricked Larias into returning to the mountain is chilling him slightly, there's a happy ending to it, for he Recognized, did he not? In anycase, the Chosen replies, the words soft and gentle, as one would send to an infant. **Sandspur, you're awake. I hope you slept well.**
Ktai nods slowly, in understanding. "My own Recognition came as quite a shock as well, though it was not destined to be anything more than Recognition." She doesn't mention the fighting, the deathwish, the wildness that took over and brought her to a unique understanding of the Wolfriders, nor does she mention the threats that her own children made... one of which is within these very halls.
Sandspur locksends ** Very well. **affection, pleasure at the greeting, humor** And there are no holes in your cushions. **
Savith hmms again softly, mind flickering at some locksends. "I understand," the Chosen replies, a smile at something sent combatting with that deep frown of past pain.
You locksend ** For that I am glad,** he replies, a heartache competing with the touch of humor that tries to echo your own. **Everyone else sleeps still? ** to Sandspur.
Sandspur locksends ** Yes. Savith, what's wrong? <> **
Both eyebrows arch, and the exiled glideress looks concerned for a moment. "Is there something amiss?" He is, after all, a Chosen, and there is that Duty that she knows he will answer should it come to it. She isn't yet comfortable enough around him to not be concerned for her own throat, but she'll remain calm for now. No need to leap to conclusions with him. Yet.
You locksend ** Just a marginally unpleasant topic. But one grows stronger from such conversation, I think. But calm yourself. I am fine. ** to Sandspur.
And thank the High Ones for that. Savith has had it to the eartips with elfesses thinking the worse of him. To her question, the Chosen shakes his head, replying to a locksend before he speaks. "No, Ktai. Just a guest of mine that has woken. YOu were saying," he promptly softly, still waking toward the Dining Hall, taking the ...ah... scenic route?
The scenic route is what one gets within the Mountain when one chooses to walk instead of glide, for there are many stairs and long corridors that one must wander in lieu of simply flitting across the wide expanse and alighting within the room that you desire to be within. "Hm?" She asks almost conversationally. "Oh, I believe we were discussing Recognitions and lifemates." She, of course, hasn't mentioned her own status other than being Recognized.
Sandspur locksends ** If you're sure. <> **
Sandspur locksends ** I am a little hungry. <> I'd rather not wake the pretty one, though. **
"Hmmm," Savith replies for a moment, while his mind asks something. "We were," he continues, but he will not press on the subject of Ktai's unpleasant Recognitions, having had two more than any sane elf would have liked in his lifetime. Rather, the Chosen asks, "Are you happy with your life's choice?"
You locksend ** My thanks for that, Sandspur. Any amount of sleep she can get is a good thing. I am headed to the dining hall with another elfess. Would you like me to collect you? ** to Sandspur.
At that, Ktai tilts her head and looks to him. "Choice in which? Mate, or else?" There is a great deal of vagueness within his question, and she would like to know what it is that she is being asked.
"Mate," Savith clarifies, eyes flicking upward at a send. One brow is lifted, as if he too is awaiting an answer. Until this conversation in his head is over, he's only partially paying attention, and that's clear.
You sense in a locksend, Sandspur perks up, the earlier incident with Generi forgotten or at least not being dwelt upon. New! Must explore! **I'd like that, yes!**
She nods thoughtfully, pondering her reply. "Well, he's hotheaded, arrogant, often times pompous... and a third of my youngest daughter's age... but I do love him, and that's what counts, isn't it?" The entire description is given in a lightly amused voice, as if she's wondered at her own sanity for choosing as she has.
Savith sighs lightly, not really having paid attention to the description, though what had heard it can't help but envision Kureel.. at least unti lthe age is mentioned. But unable to dwell on it, Savith's shoulders tense, and he pulls his hand from her grasp gently. "Forgive me, Ktai. I must go and collect another for food. I shall rejoin you in the Dining Hall, if you wish to continue this conversation." And, not waiting for a reply, the Chosen rockets off through the mountain and toward his room.
Tenspan's Hall
This room is surprisingly sculpted to an interior room, no bas relief trees or birds adorn the majority of this room, and its large hollowness even as the glowlight dims into rock rafters above is imposing. In the middle of the oval-shaped room is a huge, long table with many well-crafted stone chairs where sitting comfortably is a simple goal. Some of the chairs look newer, almost hastily sculpted to resemble the others, but the chair at the head of the table is, like the room, a glorious work of art.
Three tunnels snake at odd angles away from this room. One is large and designed to handle a great deal of flow in and out of the ajoining hall, another, smaller, likely leads to the kitchen where food is prepared.
The regal Glider floats into the hall at a pace slightly slower than normal, allowing the Rafter tagging at his heels to kep up. Though the blond, barefoot, and bare-chested stranger to the mountain walks with only a trace of a limp, he is obviously gawking at everything -- his lips are slightly parted and his wide grey eyes flick to every corner of the room, up, down, and then circuit again to see if he missed anything.
The Chosen's earlier 'guest' is sitting quietly at a table, dutifully ignoring the stares and pointed sent and spoken whispers from the kitchen staff. No doubt they're talking about her again, and they aren't doing much to hide it, instead opting to whisper loudly in accompanyment to sent gossip. She's busy trying not to care, however, and focus on the water that she has managed to acquire.
Savith drops to a gentle landing as he and Sandspur arrive, sending a snap at the kitchen staff. **Quit your gossip and get back to work. Raw fish, water, wine, and fruit, now.** The Chosen sighs faintly at the chattering sparrows, walking toward the table.
Watch the staff scatter and scramble to get the Chosen what he... requested. Granted, it wasn't a request, but the Chosen aren't required to be courteous and polite all of the time. The elfess at the table lifts her head to look over at the send, and offers a faint smile of thanks to Savith, for she certainly isn't anyone to tell them what to do, or even to leave her alone. In fact, to even attempt it might result in one of those 'problem' moments.
Sandspur continues to gape in Savith's wake. In some ways, he considers the living caves in the Rafter territory to be more beautiful...but he has never seen art on this scale before. A little bone or coral shaping, yes, but this...to shape your entire _world_...is an overwhelming concept to one who is far more used to being at the mercy of nature at its rawest. He bumps into the table, then looks at it curiously, and finally looks up to notice Ktai. He smiled cautiously, an expression not a litle bit like the sun peeping out from a wisp of cloud. "Clear skies. I'm Sandspur."
Savith narrows his eyes at one particular little gossip, making her flit from the ground to get out of his way, before he turns back to Ktai and the table. The smile is replied to by a faint grin and a light send. **Annoying little twitter birds.**
Sandspur gives Savith a wicked little grin. **Am not!**
That makes Savith snicker once, replying, "Not you."
Sandspur laughs a little. **You're more patient than most of my tribe, then.**
She laughs at the Chosen's comment, and nods to the elf that she does not know. "Clear... skies to you." it is not a greeting that she herself uses often, though what her greeting of choice may be remains unknown. "The staff will talk... I have little doubt that they will talk all the more after this." And she'll have to warn Rayek, lest he overhear something that isn't the case.
Savith rolls his eyes lightly, sitting across the table from Ktai. "Unfortunately, you're right," Savith grumbles as the staff begins bringing out the meal. He watches Sandspur, refraining from offering aid up to the table just yet. Oh yes, the staff will talk! After all, Ktai and Savith WERE seen holding hands, ALL the way from the Rose Garden!
Sandspur regards the table and chairs as most might regard a strange tool. It has *some* use, obviously, but he's not sure just what. Well...the maiden is sitting. Maybe that's what's expected? The Rafter shrugs and takes a seat, trusting that Savith will probably just pluck him off of the chair if it's inappropriate.
Ktai laughs lightly again, though her comment seems that it should be more concerned than amused. "And if Rayek catches word before I can tell him what was going on, he'll be shooting sparks from one side of the Mountain to the other faster than it takes to say it."
"Ah," Savith says, eyes widening and a faint smile forming. "So that's the arrogant one you were talking about." Sandspur's choice of chair can ONLY be wrong if he sat inthe big winged one, you knoe, the Lord's Chair. The Chosen shakes his head. "High Ones, and I though my lifemate was an odd choice." Not that he was ENTIRELY in control of the choice, but still.
Sandspur listens, absorbing information like a sponge. "Is your lifemate here?" Sandspur asks curiously.
She rises to her feet, her skirts cascading a shimmering darkness all about her legs and pooling in ripples at her feet, and she looks to one of the many exits. "Indeed he is, and I'd better go speak with him now... before one of those chattering little birds get to him first." With a faintly apologetic smile, she moves towards the exit, pausing to turn back to Savith. "I will have to take you up on your offer of a meal at a later time, I fear. May the High Ones look kindly upon you."
Savith nods in reply, smiling lightly at Ktai. No worded reply does he give, however.He just watches her leave before turning back to the table. With the feast served, Savith motions to it, eyes going back to Sandspur. "The fish is raw for you." See! Savith remembers!
Sandspur has to swallow the rush of wetness in his mouth before he speaks. "Thank you." The fact that Savith has recalled that little detail isn't entirely lost on Sandspur...he saw the Glider cooking his own and knows Savith must find it distasteful. Yes, he will certainly have to do something for his friend soon. He tilts his head to one side as he piles the leaf-thin slices of pale, red-veined meat before him. "Who are the ones serving?"
"The annoying sparrows," Savith replies, eyes falling upon one thin boned elfess. She lifts her gaze to him, swallows, then drops her eyes, pouring wine into the CHosen's goblet. Savith narrows his eyes at her, lips pressed into a thin line. He's served himself some of the raw fish, and watercrestnuts to munch on, fingers collecting the delicate meat slowly.
Sandspur,munching happily on his meal, misses the look that passes between Savith and the skinny maiden. Between his recouperation and the excitement of the day, the Rafter is starving, and it shows. He inhales the meat and its garnishes with good appetite, then regards the dark liquid in Savith's cup when he comes up for air. "Is that medicine?"
Savith was midswallow, and Sandspur's question, so innocent, makes him cough as he tried to chuckle and swallow all at the same time. See, some rafters can breath water, but no elf can breath wine.
Sandspur tries to decide if he's offended or not, and decides to save it for after Savith has stopped coughing. He stands quickly and moves to thump his companion on the back a few times.
Savith waves off the help, getting his throat cleared. "I'm fine. Ahh.. It's wine," he answers finely, clearing his throat again. "Hmm.."
Well, the word sounds half-familiar, but not really. Sandspur regards the decanter, considering. "What's it for?
"Drinking," the Chosen replies, bringing more to his lips to clera his throat.
Obvious enough. Sandspur looks between the decanter and the extra goblet for a moment, then reaches for both, ignoring the server.
Savith watches Sandspur, sipping at his own wine. He clears his throat again, then reaches for some more food.
Sandspur seeing that he's not going to be stopped, Sandspur pours himself a generous cup and sniffs carefully. The smell makes his nose tingle a little, but nothing horrible...just new. He introduces himself to wine with hardy gulp, struggles with it for a second, then manages to swallow (even if if does make him go pop-eyed). **It stings!**
Savith laughs heartly at that, setting the wine goblet down. **Yeah, it can at first,** the Chosen sends, too busy laughing to speak. "But it grows on you."
Sandspur frowns a little at being laughed at and turns wordlessly back to his goblet, determined not to let a stinging berry juice get the better of him. He finishes the whole thing off in another gulp and reaches for the decanter again.
Still chuckling, Savith's eyes widen as Sandspur moves for more. "You might want to take it slow there," he tries to warn the Rafter.
**I'm thirsty,** Sandspur sends back stubbornly, trying to ignore the slight tearing of his eyes and the slight dizziness that comes with drinking that fast without a breath. Oh, yes. Breath. He remembers to breath before he starts gulping his second cup.
Savith shakes his head lightly, and floats the decanter away, one hand reaching to get Sandspur's wrist, if he can. "I think you've had plenty."
Sandspur doesn't try to avoid and shrugs slightly. "If you think so." Maybe some water wouldn't be such a bad idea after all. Tethered by his wrist and not really able to get comfortably back to his seat, Sandspur opts to perch on the edge of the table, swinging his legs. "That wasn't bad." He feels pretty good, actually...fuzzy, warm, and his leg is giving him no pain. He grins. "So it is medicine," he says aloud.
Savith sends for the water as he lets go of Sandspur's wrist. "No, it's not medicine. It's just wine, and if you're not used to it, over doing it is bad." He should know. His lifemate... oh bou. what a drinker a few turns back.
Sandspur laughs a little. "Well, it helped my leg. Doesn't ache at all now." A carafe of water settles at the Rafter's elbow and he carefully pours, spilling just a few drops down the side of the goblet, though he almost upsets everything setting it back down. He manages his drink without disaster, however. "How many rooms are here?" he asks softly, looking around as he remembers to be awed again.
"A lot," Savith replies, sitting back, eyes on the rafter. "I've never bothered to count." Cause, he hasn't. What's the point? The shapers could jsut as easily add or remove rooms whenever they wanted as leave everything alone. He continues eating lightly, almost enjoying the day off he's got from all the hunting and running around. That last hunt really helped.
"It's..." Sandspur goes quiet for a time as he tries to think of a good word. "We all build homes," he says finally, "but not like this. Not half-alive...looks like it'd flow under your fingers if you touched it."
Savith just shrugs at that. "If you're a rock shaper, I suppose." He drinks a bit more, gagging himself with food and drink. "If you'd like a tour," he offers after a moment of chewing.
Sandspur considers for a moment, then nods. "I'd like that. I want to see how you live. I've been swimming around forever, but I never saw any other elves until recently. It's happened so fast..."
Savith nods, munching on some fruit. "I'd be happy to show you around, at least until Duty summons me," the Chosen adds. "Whenever you're ready." SOmething's put a burr under his butt. Maybe it's the fear of a drunken rafter?
Monday, August 2, 2004
Good Intentions, Misunderstood
Logfile from Two Moons - Savith.
Field before Blue Mountain
A single mountain stands almost unnaturally into the air before you, grand and solid. Boulders and uneven, sheer rock faces threaten those who wander too close. Huge cracks split the mountain's roots, down to the assortment of rubble at its feet and up, hundreds of heights toward the mountain's spindly peak. In either the brightness of day or under the light of twin moons, the entire mountain and all the rocks about it have a definite blue tint.
The field, dotted with boulders, seems to end at the mountain itself. One of the larger cracks obviously delves in deeper, forming a short, narrowing cave.
A few hours ago, a large hawk did a flyby of the area, its rider not stopping. Now, however, the hawk has returned, and drops off an elf. The Chosen, now, emerges from one of the Raft Holt tents, brow a bit furrowed and lips pressed tightly together. He stands for a moment in the open clearing in the middle of the campsite, as if composing himself for a nasty meeting mountainside.
Azil was tending to the fawns when she heard the high pitched whistle indicating an arrival. She turns on her heel, grabs her spear and pokes her head out of the tent. She can see a vague outline in the distance and she looks around to see who else is there for support. Not suprised to find anybody she creeps out of the tent, spear held at ready. She says nothing.
Savith stands still, head bowed against the gusts at the base of the mountain. The gleam of metal can be seen in his hands as he fiddles with the talonwhip that marks him as Chosen.
Azil's eyes widen then narrow again as she notices the weapon.She isn't sure if he's noticed her yet as she slinks behind a tree. She whistles for backup, doubting anyone will come as they are probably too busy eating, sleeping or furring. She calls out "What do you want pale one, a fight?"
The voice catches Savith's attention, and he turns to look in the direction of the sound. Green eyes narrow faintly as he scans the treeline searching for the voice's owner. "No," he replies a loud, continuing to coil the silvery rope attached to the butt-end of his weapon.
Azil's lips curl into a sneer as her eyes narrow. "Then go back into yer stinking hole and return our cheiftess to us!" She barks out. Its been a while since Kahvi and Kintae left to the mountain, she doesn't know what is going on, or if they will see her again... alive.
Savith rolls his eyes, moving to clip the weapon to his belt. "Your chieftess is free to return when her business is done," he replies coolly. "Perhaps you should send to her and see how much longer she'll be."
Azil blinks a bit then scratches her head. Sending.. that kinda.. hurts. She snorts and silently mocks him. She steps out from behind the tree and takes 3 paces forward. "I have no need for "magics" (she almost spits the word out). Just old fashioned troll metal and a target" She sizes you up with her eyes quickly, then narrows them.
Typical. Barbaric, brainless gobacks. Savith seems highly unimpressed, and his expression sours slightly. "So I see," he quips softly. "Well, your target is still being tracked, but if you like, I can deliever a message to your chieftess."
Azil isn't going to be thrown off guard by his courtesy. "Tell her we're wasting time here. We don't need your kind's help. Goback business, is goback business alone"
That makes Savith quirk a brow. "Goback business," he repeats. "After My Lord has extended Her hand to you and your tribe in this, the hunting of the Destroyers of your home?" Really, doesn't that Kahvi tell her peons /anything/?
A low, choked moan drifts from the tent behind Savith. It's a stifled sound, as if whoever is in pain is trying to hold back, and dies away quickly, only to be heard again within heartbeats, this time at a more intense pitch before being muffled.
Azil narrows her eyes almost as if she could read what he was thinking "Its our business!" She growls, threateningly "What do you care that..." She stops as she hears the moan, notices its in the seaelf encampment. "Maybe you should go finish, what you started" She indicates.
Savith glances back at the tent, and his expression shifts faintly. It's a bit of a frown. The motion, however, brings the talonwhip into view more, and it's silver rope is darkened by a red substance, one that stains his hands faintly. To the battle-hardened goback, it's clearly blood. Probably the same blood that darkens the trim of his uniform, now coming into view as Azil draws near. "There is little more I can do," he states.
Azil does notice the blood and readies her stance again. "Is this a game to you glider? Do you enjoy letting us "lowly" suffer?" Her eyes nearly shine in the night with anger.
The moaning does not fade this time, but instead builds to a full-throated, masculine scream in short order. The agonized scream that dies away in wet gurgle before very long. Sharp ears might catch sounds of violence from within the tent...thrashing and faint thumps.
Azil lets out a growl, then quickly glances around her. Her mind churns at the thought of an ambush. This one placed out for distraction while his kin finished the others off "Barbarians" She yells, her chest heaving with disgust and anger. Her sense of control fading to fury, she makes ready to charge him.
Annoyance flashes in Savith's eyes a moment, before he stamps it out with an iron fist. Turning from Azil and the tent, Savith faces the mountain, lifting his chin toward the summon and bringing a hand to his lips. But the motion is stopped short as he hears the goback scream and charge him. Quickly he glancing back to confirm, then launches himself up into the air.
Azil waves her double tipped spear around twice in the air before calling to arms all that can hear her voice. The dust benieth her feet whirls like a dust devil as she charges. Her eyes intent on her target, her aim is marked in her mind. She swings..
Chosen are expert flyers. This one is no different, and he skims through the air like a bug on water, pulling his body one way then the other as he ducks away from the swinging spear all while drifting higher and higher into the air. "Enough of this," he calls down to the goback. "I am not here to cause harm! End your thoughtless actions."
Azil's knuckles white as she grips her spear, angered largely at her inablility to strike him. She looks up, her ashen hair tangled about her face, her amathyst eyes burn with hatered "Liar!" she shouts and spits on the ground. She is near to the tent now and she strains her ears for any sound of movement within... perhaps she can catch his accomplice off guard.
Pained gasps for breath, barely audible above the harsh breathing of the snow-hardened warrioress, can be heard from beyond the canvas. The sounds of scuffling have not ceased, but are somewhat fainter now. A choked whimper drifts out in a momentary lull between bouts of thrashing before it begins again.
Savith watches Azil from above. **In sends there is only truth,** he sends to the goback, eyes narrowing faintly. **I am not here to cause harm to you, and am under explicit orders for such, but I will defend myself if needed.** And his own mind will bear witness that Azil swung first.
Azil turns towards the scuffling and takes a step towards the entrance of the tent as the Glider sends. She squeezes her eyes shut and staggers backward a few steps clutching her head. A sharp pain followed by dull aching. "Knock it off!" She hollars and shakes her head clear. Her eyes dart between him and the tent, still mistrusting, as all gobacks are, and sneaks to the entrance, preparing to throw back the flap and stab at anything that rushes towards her menacingly.
Savith falls silent then, watching the goback. His hands flex as he steadies himself in midair. If she moves to attack the injuried rafter inside, she better believe he's going to dive bomb her.
There's a golden-haired elf on the floor of the tent. He's almost as tall as a Glider himself, though broader shouldered. At the moment, he's arched up in a convulsion of exsquisate agony, foam from his mouth streaking his face and chest, eyes rolled back in his head. The bedding he was laying upon is tousled and blood-stained, while the elf himself lies half-on, half-off of it, twitching like a half-crushed bug as he goes into another convulsion. Blood mingles wih the foam on his body where he has already bitten through his lower lip. More blood flows from his heel, and his right leg is swollen and discolored, dark and far from healthy-looking.
Azil takes quite a few steps back as she clutches the scruff of her shirt "The mad sickness" She states in a voice mingled with awe and fear. Only a handful of times in her life has she seen this horrifying illness. She stares at the tent, wide eyed, the glider forgotten for the moment.
"No, it's not," Savith states from up above, starting to make a slow descent to the ground. "It's snake poison."
Azil continues to stare at the tent for a while, then her eyes flick to his.A rumor filters through her head, then to her lips without her being able to consiously think about it "The black snake...."
Landing, Savith overhears and sighs. "No. My Lord had nothing to do with this," the Chosen replies. "This was a simple mud-snake from the lake we were hunting at. It's not lethal, but he shold be watched."
Azil twitches her head as words which seem inconcievable to her, flutter in her brain "We?" She blinks, the fight all but torn out of her at the horid sight. "Why don't you do something about it!" She turns to him as blame. "Cannot you see he's in pain and suffering! Don't you have medicines that will help, or a ... " She opens her hand and closes it, grasping for the correct word "Healer" She finishes.
And that makes Savith's eyes lower to the ground, the frown return, and brow furrow. "I see the pain he is in, but I am no healer, and My Lord... is busy with the guests and visitors. I can not disturb her for this." YOu know, if he weren't a self-serving Chosen, he might actually sound sad about this.
Azil looks at you incredulously, before anger seeps into her features "What good are your magics then?" She walks away back to her tent wondering where she might be able to find a healer or a herbalist this time of night.
Inside the tent, the blond elf rolls onto his side, curling around himself, only semi-conscious and mewling like a newborn.
Savith watches Azil move away with a sigh. But hearing Sandspur's gurgles, he glances in. The foaming has begun. But unable to do any more, and having fresh fish to deliever, Savith turns and heads back to his bird.
Field before Blue Mountain
A single mountain stands almost unnaturally into the air before you, grand and solid. Boulders and uneven, sheer rock faces threaten those who wander too close. Huge cracks split the mountain's roots, down to the assortment of rubble at its feet and up, hundreds of heights toward the mountain's spindly peak. In either the brightness of day or under the light of twin moons, the entire mountain and all the rocks about it have a definite blue tint.
The field, dotted with boulders, seems to end at the mountain itself. One of the larger cracks obviously delves in deeper, forming a short, narrowing cave.
A few hours ago, a large hawk did a flyby of the area, its rider not stopping. Now, however, the hawk has returned, and drops off an elf. The Chosen, now, emerges from one of the Raft Holt tents, brow a bit furrowed and lips pressed tightly together. He stands for a moment in the open clearing in the middle of the campsite, as if composing himself for a nasty meeting mountainside.
Azil was tending to the fawns when she heard the high pitched whistle indicating an arrival. She turns on her heel, grabs her spear and pokes her head out of the tent. She can see a vague outline in the distance and she looks around to see who else is there for support. Not suprised to find anybody she creeps out of the tent, spear held at ready. She says nothing.
Savith stands still, head bowed against the gusts at the base of the mountain. The gleam of metal can be seen in his hands as he fiddles with the talonwhip that marks him as Chosen.
Azil's eyes widen then narrow again as she notices the weapon.She isn't sure if he's noticed her yet as she slinks behind a tree. She whistles for backup, doubting anyone will come as they are probably too busy eating, sleeping or furring. She calls out "What do you want pale one, a fight?"
The voice catches Savith's attention, and he turns to look in the direction of the sound. Green eyes narrow faintly as he scans the treeline searching for the voice's owner. "No," he replies a loud, continuing to coil the silvery rope attached to the butt-end of his weapon.
Azil's lips curl into a sneer as her eyes narrow. "Then go back into yer stinking hole and return our cheiftess to us!" She barks out. Its been a while since Kahvi and Kintae left to the mountain, she doesn't know what is going on, or if they will see her again... alive.
Savith rolls his eyes, moving to clip the weapon to his belt. "Your chieftess is free to return when her business is done," he replies coolly. "Perhaps you should send to her and see how much longer she'll be."
Azil blinks a bit then scratches her head. Sending.. that kinda.. hurts. She snorts and silently mocks him. She steps out from behind the tree and takes 3 paces forward. "I have no need for "magics" (she almost spits the word out). Just old fashioned troll metal and a target" She sizes you up with her eyes quickly, then narrows them.
Typical. Barbaric, brainless gobacks. Savith seems highly unimpressed, and his expression sours slightly. "So I see," he quips softly. "Well, your target is still being tracked, but if you like, I can deliever a message to your chieftess."
Azil isn't going to be thrown off guard by his courtesy. "Tell her we're wasting time here. We don't need your kind's help. Goback business, is goback business alone"
That makes Savith quirk a brow. "Goback business," he repeats. "After My Lord has extended Her hand to you and your tribe in this, the hunting of the Destroyers of your home?" Really, doesn't that Kahvi tell her peons /anything/?
A low, choked moan drifts from the tent behind Savith. It's a stifled sound, as if whoever is in pain is trying to hold back, and dies away quickly, only to be heard again within heartbeats, this time at a more intense pitch before being muffled.
Azil narrows her eyes almost as if she could read what he was thinking "Its our business!" She growls, threateningly "What do you care that..." She stops as she hears the moan, notices its in the seaelf encampment. "Maybe you should go finish, what you started" She indicates.
Savith glances back at the tent, and his expression shifts faintly. It's a bit of a frown. The motion, however, brings the talonwhip into view more, and it's silver rope is darkened by a red substance, one that stains his hands faintly. To the battle-hardened goback, it's clearly blood. Probably the same blood that darkens the trim of his uniform, now coming into view as Azil draws near. "There is little more I can do," he states.
Azil does notice the blood and readies her stance again. "Is this a game to you glider? Do you enjoy letting us "lowly" suffer?" Her eyes nearly shine in the night with anger.
The moaning does not fade this time, but instead builds to a full-throated, masculine scream in short order. The agonized scream that dies away in wet gurgle before very long. Sharp ears might catch sounds of violence from within the tent...thrashing and faint thumps.
Azil lets out a growl, then quickly glances around her. Her mind churns at the thought of an ambush. This one placed out for distraction while his kin finished the others off "Barbarians" She yells, her chest heaving with disgust and anger. Her sense of control fading to fury, she makes ready to charge him.
Annoyance flashes in Savith's eyes a moment, before he stamps it out with an iron fist. Turning from Azil and the tent, Savith faces the mountain, lifting his chin toward the summon and bringing a hand to his lips. But the motion is stopped short as he hears the goback scream and charge him. Quickly he glancing back to confirm, then launches himself up into the air.
Azil waves her double tipped spear around twice in the air before calling to arms all that can hear her voice. The dust benieth her feet whirls like a dust devil as she charges. Her eyes intent on her target, her aim is marked in her mind. She swings..
Chosen are expert flyers. This one is no different, and he skims through the air like a bug on water, pulling his body one way then the other as he ducks away from the swinging spear all while drifting higher and higher into the air. "Enough of this," he calls down to the goback. "I am not here to cause harm! End your thoughtless actions."
Azil's knuckles white as she grips her spear, angered largely at her inablility to strike him. She looks up, her ashen hair tangled about her face, her amathyst eyes burn with hatered "Liar!" she shouts and spits on the ground. She is near to the tent now and she strains her ears for any sound of movement within... perhaps she can catch his accomplice off guard.
Pained gasps for breath, barely audible above the harsh breathing of the snow-hardened warrioress, can be heard from beyond the canvas. The sounds of scuffling have not ceased, but are somewhat fainter now. A choked whimper drifts out in a momentary lull between bouts of thrashing before it begins again.
Savith watches Azil from above. **In sends there is only truth,** he sends to the goback, eyes narrowing faintly. **I am not here to cause harm to you, and am under explicit orders for such, but I will defend myself if needed.** And his own mind will bear witness that Azil swung first.
Azil turns towards the scuffling and takes a step towards the entrance of the tent as the Glider sends. She squeezes her eyes shut and staggers backward a few steps clutching her head. A sharp pain followed by dull aching. "Knock it off!" She hollars and shakes her head clear. Her eyes dart between him and the tent, still mistrusting, as all gobacks are, and sneaks to the entrance, preparing to throw back the flap and stab at anything that rushes towards her menacingly.
Savith falls silent then, watching the goback. His hands flex as he steadies himself in midair. If she moves to attack the injuried rafter inside, she better believe he's going to dive bomb her.
There's a golden-haired elf on the floor of the tent. He's almost as tall as a Glider himself, though broader shouldered. At the moment, he's arched up in a convulsion of exsquisate agony, foam from his mouth streaking his face and chest, eyes rolled back in his head. The bedding he was laying upon is tousled and blood-stained, while the elf himself lies half-on, half-off of it, twitching like a half-crushed bug as he goes into another convulsion. Blood mingles wih the foam on his body where he has already bitten through his lower lip. More blood flows from his heel, and his right leg is swollen and discolored, dark and far from healthy-looking.
Azil takes quite a few steps back as she clutches the scruff of her shirt "The mad sickness" She states in a voice mingled with awe and fear. Only a handful of times in her life has she seen this horrifying illness. She stares at the tent, wide eyed, the glider forgotten for the moment.
"No, it's not," Savith states from up above, starting to make a slow descent to the ground. "It's snake poison."
Azil continues to stare at the tent for a while, then her eyes flick to his.A rumor filters through her head, then to her lips without her being able to consiously think about it "The black snake...."
Landing, Savith overhears and sighs. "No. My Lord had nothing to do with this," the Chosen replies. "This was a simple mud-snake from the lake we were hunting at. It's not lethal, but he shold be watched."
Azil twitches her head as words which seem inconcievable to her, flutter in her brain "We?" She blinks, the fight all but torn out of her at the horid sight. "Why don't you do something about it!" She turns to him as blame. "Cannot you see he's in pain and suffering! Don't you have medicines that will help, or a ... " She opens her hand and closes it, grasping for the correct word "Healer" She finishes.
And that makes Savith's eyes lower to the ground, the frown return, and brow furrow. "I see the pain he is in, but I am no healer, and My Lord... is busy with the guests and visitors. I can not disturb her for this." YOu know, if he weren't a self-serving Chosen, he might actually sound sad about this.
Azil looks at you incredulously, before anger seeps into her features "What good are your magics then?" She walks away back to her tent wondering where she might be able to find a healer or a herbalist this time of night.
Inside the tent, the blond elf rolls onto his side, curling around himself, only semi-conscious and mewling like a newborn.
Savith watches Azil move away with a sigh. But hearing Sandspur's gurgles, he glances in. The foaming has begun. But unable to do any more, and having fresh fish to deliever, Savith turns and heads back to his bird.
Thursday, May 27, 2004
Message Delivered
THURSDAY, MAY 27, 2004
Logfile from Two Moons - Savith.
Raft Beach - Camp Area - Raft Holt
Beach and forest meets here, and the place is cleared for tents and other forms of shelter. Straight north, you have cliffs stooping down to sharp impassible reefs. Boulders dot the beach there, all the way back to the forest. The beach holds the same characteristic patterns here, as it does all over. White sand with trickles of black. Here, one can enjoy the shades of the palms and coconut trees, or play in the shallows of the water.
The longest part of the day has arrived, bringing with it the brightness of the daystar high over head.
Savith arrived near dusk two days ago. His bird is perched upon the cliff, and he even sent a message along with Streak, that it was urgent he speak with the tribe's chief. Since then, it's been a waiting game. As dawn nears, he wakes, having slept against his bond bird. Not the most comfortable place to rest, but rest it was, and the Chosen stands, folding his blankets and tucking them away, chirping and clicking to Winddance, back to the beach below.
The Chief must be a busy man indeed, because it has taken him this long to actually take the time, it would seem. Not usual, considering the Raft in general are usually quite eager to meet their Mountain visitors. Now though, he makes his way up towards the camp area, trident in hand. The bird and accompanying elf is not hard to spot, so it is a straight line he makes towards you. ** Fair tides, Savith. ** he greets the by now familiar face. He isn't quite his smiling self these days, though.
Ah. Finally. Savith looks over his shoulder before turning fully to face the chief. **Clear skies, Chief Firewater,** he replies. **I bring a message from My Lord Winnowill, of Blue Moutain, meant for you and you alone.** And it's right down to business.
** I see. ** Firewater sends, giving a faint nod of his head. Glancing around, he gives a wave of his hand towards the firepit and the driftwood logs left out as seating place there. Switching to private sending smoothly, he moves towards them himself, waiting for you to follow. ** What message does Lord Winnowill have? ** He can be business too, see.
Savith leaves his bird as he is bid, and flies to the fire pit. Enroute, a locksend drifts from his mind. By the time he has settled, Savith's eyes have gone flat and emotionless. IN a send locked to Firewater's mind, the touch of Savith's mind, mingled with His Lord's conveys the message, **My Lord... I, request that you, Chieftain of Raft, and any magic users and able-bodied elves you can spare from your home, travel to Blue Mountain. At the summit, we shall all, all the various tribes from across Two Moons, shall discuss what must be done about a destructive set of twins that have destroyed no less than one elven holt: Grove holt. My Lord feels... I feel... this is a matter that no single tribe or gathering of elves can handle alone.**
Firewater watches your progress over to the firepit with a blank expression, your words seeming to cause no great surprise to him. After a moment's pause to see whether you have more to say, he nods his head ever so slightly. ** Word has reached us, even here, of these elves. Rumors and exaggerations, most of them, but I take it there is truth to the destruction of the Grove, then. I am sorry to hear this is true. ** he sends calmly, still private to your mind alone. ** I cannot say I understand, though. Why would these two wish to spread such devastation? ** All in all, Firewater's tribe is unused to such... random acts of cruelty, even with their ties to the Mountain.
**It is, as of yet, unknown to My Lord, to me, the why of it, ** Savith/Winnowill replies. **Other tribes are arriving. Can the Mountain count on you, Firewater, Chief of Raft Holt?** Savith's eyes seem to glitter... glitter an odd odd blue. A blue that is not normally found within his eyes.
Firewater watches your progress over to the firepit with a blank expression, your words seeming to cause no great surprise to him. After a moment's pause to see whether you have more to say, he nods his head ever so slightly. ** Word has reached us, even here, of these elves. Rumors and exaggerations, most of them, but I take it there is truth to the destruction of the Grove, then. I am sorry to hear this is true. ** he sends calmly, still private to your mind alone. ** I cannot say I understand, though. Why would these two wish to spread such devastation? ** All in all, Firewater's tribe is unused to such... random acts of cruelty, even with their ties to the Mountain.
**It is, as of yet, unknown to My Lord, to me, the why of it, ** Savith/Winnowill replies. **Other tribes are arriving. Can the Mountain count on you, Firewater, Chief of Raft Holt?** Savith's eyes seem to glitter... glitter an odd odd blue. A blue that is not normally found within his eyes.
Ah yes. Firewater goes quiet for a few moments, glancing down at the dormant firepit for a few moments. ** The Raft has not been too... welcome at the Mountain before. There have been complications. If Lord Winnowill can assure us that there will be none this time around, I am certain we will be able to come. ** That precept having been said though, Firewater continues, ** But in principle, the Raft agrees. We will join in whatever effort will be made to stop these twins. **
The Chosen smiles. It's a seductively dark expression, to which his eyes glimmer azure. **You have my personal Promise that no harm will come to /any/ of your tribe, so log as none move to harm any member of my family during their stay,** Savith replies... no. Not Savith. Winnowill. The Dark Lord of Blue Mountain sends through her Chosen, using his mind like a puppet. The feel of her mind strengthens, over powers the feel of Savith's own mind.
The change of sending tone is something that Firewater picks up on, the Chief narrowing his eyes faintly as he nods his head carefully. ** I see. Then we have an accord, as it is. I have business on the mainland as is. We will make our way to the Mountain at the same time. **
Savith nods, eyes still blue. **I have instructed my Chosen, Savith, to bring you or any other you wish to send ahead, on the back of his hawk, so you can inspect the area I have set aside for your tribe's use,** Winnowill replies through the mind of her puppet. **I can not stress enough how little time there is to gather and plan.** The smile fades, the Chosen's expression becoming more business like now that Raft's Aid is secured.
** I am certain we will find an arrangement for that. There is other things we would discuss as well, if there is time at the summit. ** Firewater sends, inclining his head towards the mind-riding Winnowill. ** Until then, Lord Winnowill? **
Again the Chosen nods, smiling a pleased and almost pleasant smile. **Of course, Chief Firewater,** Winnowill replies. **Savith knows what of what we spoke, and will wait two days here for you to inform him if he shall be carrying anyone to mountain.** When the send fades, Savith blinks, his eyes returning to their mossy hue. His shoulders slump and he exhales as if he had been holding his breath for far too long. Whew! That's just freaky...
The stiff smile Firewater returns is momentary, and fades quickly from his lips. By the time Savith seems to be Savith once more, Firewater is already rising to his feet. ** I have other business to attend to. I will see to it that you are given a more proper residence for your time here, as well as food, if you do not wish to hunt yourself. ** Firewater's stiffness is almost tangible, and his sending is a constrained one. Because when it comes to having your mind ridden, Firewater has experience on that part. It cost him three hundred years of memories in the end, and his tribe, until no more than a few hands of turns ago, and as such, this was not the most pleasant of experiences. ** Until later, Savith. ** he sends, giving a faint inclination of his head before turning and moving off.
Logfile from Two Moons - Savith.
Raft Beach - Camp Area - Raft Holt
Beach and forest meets here, and the place is cleared for tents and other forms of shelter. Straight north, you have cliffs stooping down to sharp impassible reefs. Boulders dot the beach there, all the way back to the forest. The beach holds the same characteristic patterns here, as it does all over. White sand with trickles of black. Here, one can enjoy the shades of the palms and coconut trees, or play in the shallows of the water.
The longest part of the day has arrived, bringing with it the brightness of the daystar high over head.
Savith arrived near dusk two days ago. His bird is perched upon the cliff, and he even sent a message along with Streak, that it was urgent he speak with the tribe's chief. Since then, it's been a waiting game. As dawn nears, he wakes, having slept against his bond bird. Not the most comfortable place to rest, but rest it was, and the Chosen stands, folding his blankets and tucking them away, chirping and clicking to Winddance, back to the beach below.
The Chief must be a busy man indeed, because it has taken him this long to actually take the time, it would seem. Not usual, considering the Raft in general are usually quite eager to meet their Mountain visitors. Now though, he makes his way up towards the camp area, trident in hand. The bird and accompanying elf is not hard to spot, so it is a straight line he makes towards you. ** Fair tides, Savith. ** he greets the by now familiar face. He isn't quite his smiling self these days, though.
Ah. Finally. Savith looks over his shoulder before turning fully to face the chief. **Clear skies, Chief Firewater,** he replies. **I bring a message from My Lord Winnowill, of Blue Moutain, meant for you and you alone.** And it's right down to business.
** I see. ** Firewater sends, giving a faint nod of his head. Glancing around, he gives a wave of his hand towards the firepit and the driftwood logs left out as seating place there. Switching to private sending smoothly, he moves towards them himself, waiting for you to follow. ** What message does Lord Winnowill have? ** He can be business too, see.
Savith leaves his bird as he is bid, and flies to the fire pit. Enroute, a locksend drifts from his mind. By the time he has settled, Savith's eyes have gone flat and emotionless. IN a send locked to Firewater's mind, the touch of Savith's mind, mingled with His Lord's conveys the message, **My Lord... I, request that you, Chieftain of Raft, and any magic users and able-bodied elves you can spare from your home, travel to Blue Mountain. At the summit, we shall all, all the various tribes from across Two Moons, shall discuss what must be done about a destructive set of twins that have destroyed no less than one elven holt: Grove holt. My Lord feels... I feel... this is a matter that no single tribe or gathering of elves can handle alone.**
Firewater watches your progress over to the firepit with a blank expression, your words seeming to cause no great surprise to him. After a moment's pause to see whether you have more to say, he nods his head ever so slightly. ** Word has reached us, even here, of these elves. Rumors and exaggerations, most of them, but I take it there is truth to the destruction of the Grove, then. I am sorry to hear this is true. ** he sends calmly, still private to your mind alone. ** I cannot say I understand, though. Why would these two wish to spread such devastation? ** All in all, Firewater's tribe is unused to such... random acts of cruelty, even with their ties to the Mountain.
**It is, as of yet, unknown to My Lord, to me, the why of it, ** Savith/Winnowill replies. **Other tribes are arriving. Can the Mountain count on you, Firewater, Chief of Raft Holt?** Savith's eyes seem to glitter... glitter an odd odd blue. A blue that is not normally found within his eyes.
Firewater watches your progress over to the firepit with a blank expression, your words seeming to cause no great surprise to him. After a moment's pause to see whether you have more to say, he nods his head ever so slightly. ** Word has reached us, even here, of these elves. Rumors and exaggerations, most of them, but I take it there is truth to the destruction of the Grove, then. I am sorry to hear this is true. ** he sends calmly, still private to your mind alone. ** I cannot say I understand, though. Why would these two wish to spread such devastation? ** All in all, Firewater's tribe is unused to such... random acts of cruelty, even with their ties to the Mountain.
**It is, as of yet, unknown to My Lord, to me, the why of it, ** Savith/Winnowill replies. **Other tribes are arriving. Can the Mountain count on you, Firewater, Chief of Raft Holt?** Savith's eyes seem to glitter... glitter an odd odd blue. A blue that is not normally found within his eyes.
Ah yes. Firewater goes quiet for a few moments, glancing down at the dormant firepit for a few moments. ** The Raft has not been too... welcome at the Mountain before. There have been complications. If Lord Winnowill can assure us that there will be none this time around, I am certain we will be able to come. ** That precept having been said though, Firewater continues, ** But in principle, the Raft agrees. We will join in whatever effort will be made to stop these twins. **
The Chosen smiles. It's a seductively dark expression, to which his eyes glimmer azure. **You have my personal Promise that no harm will come to /any/ of your tribe, so log as none move to harm any member of my family during their stay,** Savith replies... no. Not Savith. Winnowill. The Dark Lord of Blue Mountain sends through her Chosen, using his mind like a puppet. The feel of her mind strengthens, over powers the feel of Savith's own mind.
The change of sending tone is something that Firewater picks up on, the Chief narrowing his eyes faintly as he nods his head carefully. ** I see. Then we have an accord, as it is. I have business on the mainland as is. We will make our way to the Mountain at the same time. **
Savith nods, eyes still blue. **I have instructed my Chosen, Savith, to bring you or any other you wish to send ahead, on the back of his hawk, so you can inspect the area I have set aside for your tribe's use,** Winnowill replies through the mind of her puppet. **I can not stress enough how little time there is to gather and plan.** The smile fades, the Chosen's expression becoming more business like now that Raft's Aid is secured.
** I am certain we will find an arrangement for that. There is other things we would discuss as well, if there is time at the summit. ** Firewater sends, inclining his head towards the mind-riding Winnowill. ** Until then, Lord Winnowill? **
Again the Chosen nods, smiling a pleased and almost pleasant smile. **Of course, Chief Firewater,** Winnowill replies. **Savith knows what of what we spoke, and will wait two days here for you to inform him if he shall be carrying anyone to mountain.** When the send fades, Savith blinks, his eyes returning to their mossy hue. His shoulders slump and he exhales as if he had been holding his breath for far too long. Whew! That's just freaky...
The stiff smile Firewater returns is momentary, and fades quickly from his lips. By the time Savith seems to be Savith once more, Firewater is already rising to his feet. ** I have other business to attend to. I will see to it that you are given a more proper residence for your time here, as well as food, if you do not wish to hunt yourself. ** Firewater's stiffness is almost tangible, and his sending is a constrained one. Because when it comes to having your mind ridden, Firewater has experience on that part. It cost him three hundred years of memories in the end, and his tribe, until no more than a few hands of turns ago, and as such, this was not the most pleasant of experiences. ** Until later, Savith. ** he sends, giving a faint inclination of his head before turning and moving off.
A Beach Side Chat
THURSDAY, MAY 27, 2004
Logfile from Two Moons - Savith.
Raft Beach - Camp Area - Raft Holt
Beach and forest meets here, and the place is cleared for tents and other forms of shelter. Straight north, you have cliffs stooping down to sharp impassible reefs. Boulders dot the beach there, all the way back to the forest. The beach holds the same characteristic patterns here, as it does all over. White sand with trickles of black. Here, one can enjoy the shades of the palms and coconut trees, or play in the shallows of the water.
Dawn has come, bringing with it the bright array of colors to light up the horizon.
Watersong comes down onto the campsite to see if the guest of the tribe has returned. She's wet from the Waterfall, but is air drying. It's rather late at night as she sashays down from the forest in her bare feet.
After the flight with Firestorm, Savith has sent her off to rest while he stayed awake, unable to sleep. Finding Winddance's perch cold and unyielding, the Chosen opted for the fireside. His eyes upon the flames, the CHosen seems lost in thought.
Watersong smiles, "Calm tides Chosen. How are you doing tonight?" She comes up opposite of him so he can see her by the fire light, "Might I join you?"
Green eyes blink a few times as Savith pulls his gaze from the flames. His gaze settles upon the friendly Watersong. "I am well," he replies, a light shrug and a shake of his head his only answer to her question about her joining him.
Watersong smiles as she sits down by the fire, "How was the manyteeth steak? Did you enjoy it?" She asks as she folds her hands on her legs as she is sitting with her legs folded under her demurely.
"It was most filling," the Chosen replies, eyes upon Watersong as she sits by the fire. "Thank you again for bringing it. I was most thoughtful."
"I'm glad that you enjoyed it. I can make another one for you while you stay here. I don't mind. I enjoy cooking, almost as much as I enjoy making music." Watersong's eyes light up as she talks about music. "So besiding doing your Lord's bidding what do you like to do?"
Savith quirks a brow at the question. "My Lord's Will," he replies. His voice is flat in tone, though his eyes remain attentive and curious. The offer of cooking recieves no comment. Merely, it is just filed away for later.
Watersong ohs, "So that's all you do? It must be boring, but each to their own. I couldn't do that all day. I'm always singing or humming, even if it's not out loud."
Savith just nods. For a heartbeat he waits, not giving a reply to Watersong's comment about how boring it must be. With nothing more to say, he turns back to the fire.
Watersong continues to chatter on, not minding Savith's silence, just gives her more chance to talk, "Do you have any family? Or squirts? That's children if you didn't know. I have one, but he's with is father in the plains." She sighs wistfully, "I miss him sometimes, but they were happy in the plains and I am happy at the ocean."
Savith would have replied, but Watersong just kept right on talking. So instead, the Chosen slides his eyes frm the flickering firelight again to regard Watersong.
Watersong looks to Savith and waits for him to reply to her question, "Is that a no?"
"A no about what," he asks in reply. His head tilts faintly in question, like a bird looking at something sideways might.
Watersong giggles, "About having a child silly? Or is it just you all alone at the Blue Mountain."
Savith ohs softly, licking his lips before replying. "I have four, actually." And they all say that the mountain is stagnant! HA!
Watersong oh mys, "Four. Oh I can't imagine that. One was a handful enough. I certainly hope they were spaced out."
Savith's head rocks side to side. "You could say they were," he murmurs, turning his eyes back to the flames. His eyes narrow faintly as the conversation brings to mind a few things, and he stops to think them through.
Watersong ahs, "I'd imagine so. So how long are you going to be here? Is it a long visit like that of your watershaper?"
The voice once again draws Savith from his reverie, and the Chosen turns his gaze back to Watersong. "My stay will be as long as it must be in order to deliever my message and recieve a reply. No more, no less." He pauses than, as if selecting the right words to say. "No," he replies finally.
Watersong looks wistful and put a finger to her lip to tap it gently, "Too bad. That large bird of yours is certainly useful for catching manyteeth. Or so I have heard the hunters talk about it."
Savith nods, an almost smirk playing across his features. "That she is. I do plan on huntnig a little later, or at least scouting the waters for any small manyfang we can collect. I dislike being aburden to tribes I visit."
Watersong waves her hand at him, "Oh pasha, you are not a burden on the tribe. It's an honor to have you here."
That recieves a snort from his nose and a nearly full-fledged smirk, all while his eyes return to the flames. "Not all share your pinion, and so I tread lightly." As Ordered.
Watersong shrugs, "I never cared what other's thought as long as I'm here I'll make you feel welcome."
Savith dips his head at Watersong as he replies, "Very nice of you, thank you." Then his eyes return to the flames.
Watersong smiles, "You're welcome. I don't mind, if you need anything just ask." She looks at the flames and holds out her hands to warm them up before she rubs her arms.
Savith nods to the offer. The night is pleasant for him. Then again, he's in a gull glight suit, and so, when he spots Waterson gtrying to warm herself, he eyes an extra blanket he brought. "If you're cold," he begins. "I have an extra blanket you can borrow for now."
Watersong smiles, "Why thank you." She moves over to him to get the extra blanket and she wraps it around herself before sitting back down. Watersong looks up, "It's a beautiful night out."
As Watersong agrees to the blanket, Savith's mind reaches for it, and brings it to her, meeting her halfway. Once she's settled witht he balnket, he removes his mental hold over it, eyes returning ot the flames. "Hmm, yes, it is," he replies, somewhat distractly.
Watersong looks back at Savith, "Is something wrong Savith? Did your reunion with your daughter not go as you thought it would?"
Oh! That brings Savith to the present. The CHosen stiffens, and turns cold green eyes upon Watersong. "What makes you think it was my daughter," he asks, lifting a brow. "We gliders must all look a like to you, hmm."
Offshore, there's an elf capering in the nighttime water as if it's midday, chasing the ripples of moonlight and starshine across the water without much purpose beyond simple movement.
Watersong wells, "The way you two were carrying on it certainly seemed like it. I could be wrong, I've been wrong before." The noice of the capering distracts her, "Who's out there?"
Savith hmms softly, not replying. At Watersong's question, Savith turns and looks out to sea, eyes narrowing.
After a few momoments more frolicking, the elf in question seems to notice the audience and the fire and waves. **Gentle currents!** Definitely Sandspur. He dives again, but surfaces -- eyes and nose only -- not far from the shore, looking curious.
Watersong smiles, ** Calm tides Sandspur. How are you doing? ** She looks to Savith, "It's just Sandspur."
Ah. Sandspur. Savith eyes the happy-go-lucky elf, eyes curious as well, as he sends his reply. **Clear skies.** Sittign by the fire, they are, and Watersong wrapped in one of Savith's blankets.
**Just swimming. There's a baby boatback out there.** The Raft tribe's resident bit of flotsam bobs in the waves a few moments more, then wades up onto the beach, wringing out his hair and shivering just a little in the night air before he hunkers next to the fire. He tilts his head at Savith. **Have you talked to the chief yet?**
Watersong opens the blanket for Sandspur, "Care to join me? You wouldn't want to freeze. I'm sure Savith wouldn't mind if his blanket got a little wet. I'll hang it out to dry for him if he does."
Savith watches Sandspur makes his way toward teh firesie, shaking his head as the other elf draws near and asks about the chief."I admit that I hav enot, but I have been here but little, and so can wait longer." At Watersong's offer to Sandspur of his blanket, he blinks once. Emotions hard to read ont he Chosen, he replies in a flat even tone, "As you like."
Sandspur blinks and glances from side to side. Finally, he shrugs and shakes his head, simply stretching out full-length by the fire. **I'll dry instead. Then you can salt me and put me in the storage dens as well,** he open-sends, teasing. He plunks his chin down on his palm and regards Savith with grey eyes gone amber in the firelight. **Do you like it here? Do you think you'll stay?** There's an odd undercurrent to that open sending -- or perhaps just odd because foam-headed Sandspur rarely has an undercurrent of anything going through his mind. All his emotions tend to rise to the surface.
Watersong chuckles a little bit as she rewraps herself, "Promises, promises." She turns to listen to Savith's responce as she stretches out her legs and wiggles her toes near the fire.
Savith returns Sandspur's scurtiny firmly, with an unworried look. "I must say no," he replies. "I have my Orders,and once fullfilled, I must take my leave."
Though he makes no send, the look of disappointment on Sandspur's face gives away his opinion on that course of action. He switches to speech. "But it's such a long journey. Doesn't your bird have to rest some more?"
Watersong shushes Sandspur, "Chosen Savith has very many important things to do. His bondbird is very strong and I'm sure she is rested enough even if he had to leave at a moment's notice."
Sandspur looks puzzled. "'Chosen'?"
The disappointment from Sandspur makes Savith nearly chuckle. The expression ends up a smirk on his features, as he shakes his head softly. "Rest or not, My Lord's WIll is my own," he replies. He pauses as Watersong seems to chides Sandspur, and a brow quirks as he wonders just what Watersong knows about gliders and their bondbirds. After all, he made no mention as to what his hawk was called, at least, not to her. Sandspur's question recieves a nod. "Yes. I am Chosen of Blue Mountain, Chosen out of the rest to Protect, Provide, and Serve."
Watersong has been asking around about the glider Savith from other Rafters. She smiles as she listens to Savith explain what the Chosen do. "See it's very important."
Sandspur sighs pitiously. Even his sharp eartips seem to droop. "Will we get to hunt again before you leave?" he asks, his voice wistful.
Asking about, huh? Well, if she had been asking about, it's a miracle her view of him is as bright and pleasant as it is. Granted, he's been polite the last view times he was here, but still. There are too many in this holt that know of the horrorific things a Chosen can do that can spread rumors about him and his baby-snatching ways. Savith flicks a glance at Watersong, before replying to Sandspur, "Most certainly. I was planning a hunt during the day, for a manyfang to provde the tribe with." Like he said earlier, he does so hate to be a burden.
Watersong chose only to believe the good stuff she heard about him, putting the other stuff to misunderstanding and overactive imaginaitons. She smiles at Sandspur, "Maybe if you ask nicely Savith will take you with him."
Sandspur brightens slightly. He was hoping that they could hunt redbelly again, or something that would take just the two of them, but it was better than nothing. "You'll wake me, won't you?"
Good stuff? Like what? The brawl with Shadows where he tore up the wolfrider? The time he flew away with the nweborn Amber? Or what about the constant tailing of the glider refugee Larias? Or the time he nearly skewered an expectant mother with a spear while she was about to drop her child? So many 'good' things to say about Savith. Really, pray tell what good things were said about hte Chosen? After all, he's just playing with Amber and being nice to her when he visists so later he can steal her away and make her thing it was her choice. He nods to Sandspur, "I shall, if you are within send's reach, but I do not think you should join me on a hunt for manyfang. It is a dangerous hunt, to say the least." And Winnowill would BEAT him if he screwed up Raft relations. "If that hunt turns up nothing, I would be willing to hunt redbelly with you again, however."
Well how good a hunter of manyfang he is for one and there is other good stuff to be said about Savith, Watersong just can't remember it right now, not that she ever let that bother her. She nods approvingly and keeps quiet for once as the subject is about hunting something she doesn't know much about.
Sandspur actually sulks a little. "I've hunted manytooth before. Are you planning to fly out and take one on your own?" His eyes light suddenly, sparking excitement, and he leans towards Savith so far he almost unbalances. "Are you hunting from birdback?"
As Watersong stays quiet, Savith focuses upon Sandspur, the excited youth getting a smirk. "I am, indeed," he replies. "To both, hunting manyfang alone, and hunting from birdback. It is the way way to bring in the catch."
Sandspur all but has his chin on Savith's knee at this point. "You know, I don't weigh all that much and Watersong *did* say your bird is strong..."
Savith eyes Sandspur as he practically puts his chin on his knee. But the Chosen refrains from pulling back, or making any sort of motions. Rather, Savith just regard him and replies, "It is not your weight the concerns me, but rather your safety. I would have to divide my attention between you and the hunt. Something that could get us both killed."
Watersong continues to listen attentively to the two males talk about hunting manyteeth. She yawns a little and covers her mouth with her hands before she snuggles down into the blanket that Savith has lent her.
Sandspur sighs and wishes he was better at this cajoling business, but this is as good as he gets at clever speaking. "What? I would fall off into the water at worst."
"And into the mouth of the manyfang, at best," Savith replies, shaking his head. "It is a risk I can not take. I will not hunt manyfang with you astride my bird." Of course, that says nothing about just flying about on the bird's back...
Watersong looks to Sandspur, "You're hide doesn't need any more scars on it Sandspur."
Sandspur blinks and looks down at his scarred chest. Oh yes, those. Well, it is true that he doesn't have that much hide left, but still...flying! With Savith! On the bird! Waaah! All the same, he heroically refrains from kicking the sand and going into a full-on pout. "Oh, very well. I'm not going to hope you come back empty-handed, Savith. And I'd still like to know when you leave."
Savith nods, and is rather glad Sadspur didn't ask for a joy ride. His orders to be polite might have forced him to say yes. There's little danger in it, after all.. At least, none for Sandspur. Saviht, on the other hand, would have immediately been assumed to be flying away with Sandspur... Okay, so Savith would have said no anyway, but STILL! He'd have thought about it, and it's the thought that counts, right? "I'll send for you, or you can listen for my whislte. It's loud enough to be heard clearly for quite a distance."
Watersong smiles and nods, "I hope you have a good hunt Savith and come back with as big a manyfang that your bird can carry." She looks up, "Still it would be nice to ride up in the cloud. Not that I would want to Savith. It would be nice, but I would perfer to keep my feet on the ground."
Sandspur rests his head on folded arms and sighs deeply enough to stir his salt-and-water weighted hair off of his eye. "It must be exciting to fly, though, Watersong. And imagine how much of the world you could see from that height! It took me days and days to reach my island, but I'll be Savith could be there in an eight of hours."
Savith grins smirks, and turns his gaze back to the fire. Finally! His face shows some emotion. And that emotion is pride. Yeah. Flying is da bomb. He won't trade it for anything in the... okay, maybe ONE thing, but let's not go there. Not a pleasant place to be. INstead, Savith sits smugly, watching the fire eat at the logs.
Watersong shrugs, "Maybe so, but I like looking at the world from under the water. The sky is only blue because the water is blue."
Sandspur tilts his head to one side. "What?"
Savith's brows lift faintly a she sits silently and listens to the conversation. But his thoughts stray, and he finds himself cold despite teh flames, and so, a frown forms. He should go back to his bird's nest, and force himself to rest. Especially if he's going to be hunting tomorrow.
Watersong looks over at Sandspur, "I like looking up at the world, not down at it."
Sandspur still doesn't think it makes sense, but nods. "Savith...are you all right?"
Savith hmms, and looks over at Sandspur. He asks the question honestly to himself first, taking note of what's going on. No, he's not fine. How much will that new hatchling change while he's away? It's heartbreaking, despite the fearful thrill that meeting Firestorm was.But to Sandspur he nods, averting his eyes as he out rights lies, "I'm fine. I think I'll retire to my nest now, in preparation for my hunt in the morning." Oh, but standing is a good excuse to avert ones eyes, and so, he stands.
Sandspur sits up. "All right...sleep well." He grins. "Don't forget me!"
Watersong yawns and stands up, "I think I'll go back to the rafts as well." She unwraps and carefully folds the blanket, "Thank you for the use of your blanket Savith." Watersong holds it out to him.
Savith takes the blanket, with his HAND this time!, and nods. "Sleep well," he murmurs to Watersong, eyes cast down to hide the troubled glint to their hue. His mind collects the rest of the bedding he brought down to the beach, haivng thought to nap out here, by the lapping waves. "A difficult thing to do, I assure you, Sandspur," Savith replies, lifting himself from the ground as he collects all hs blankets.
Sandspur watches him go, then settles by the fire again. "You go ahead, Watersong. I'm not tired."
Savith flies to the cliff without another word, mind, body, and soul aching for his lifemate, and the feel of their two hatchlings in his arms. Seeing Firestorm today made him realize just how alone he is when out on a mission. Shivering with a sudden chill as he drops to a landing, he coos at WInddance, pats her gently and covers himself, half sitting half laying aginst his hawk. 'Larias... I hope you're dreaming well,' he thinks to himself, hoping she can hear him, as he closes his eyes and focres his body to rest.
Logfile from Two Moons - Savith.
Raft Beach - Camp Area - Raft Holt
Beach and forest meets here, and the place is cleared for tents and other forms of shelter. Straight north, you have cliffs stooping down to sharp impassible reefs. Boulders dot the beach there, all the way back to the forest. The beach holds the same characteristic patterns here, as it does all over. White sand with trickles of black. Here, one can enjoy the shades of the palms and coconut trees, or play in the shallows of the water.
Dawn has come, bringing with it the bright array of colors to light up the horizon.
Watersong comes down onto the campsite to see if the guest of the tribe has returned. She's wet from the Waterfall, but is air drying. It's rather late at night as she sashays down from the forest in her bare feet.
After the flight with Firestorm, Savith has sent her off to rest while he stayed awake, unable to sleep. Finding Winddance's perch cold and unyielding, the Chosen opted for the fireside. His eyes upon the flames, the CHosen seems lost in thought.
Watersong smiles, "Calm tides Chosen. How are you doing tonight?" She comes up opposite of him so he can see her by the fire light, "Might I join you?"
Green eyes blink a few times as Savith pulls his gaze from the flames. His gaze settles upon the friendly Watersong. "I am well," he replies, a light shrug and a shake of his head his only answer to her question about her joining him.
Watersong smiles as she sits down by the fire, "How was the manyteeth steak? Did you enjoy it?" She asks as she folds her hands on her legs as she is sitting with her legs folded under her demurely.
"It was most filling," the Chosen replies, eyes upon Watersong as she sits by the fire. "Thank you again for bringing it. I was most thoughtful."
"I'm glad that you enjoyed it. I can make another one for you while you stay here. I don't mind. I enjoy cooking, almost as much as I enjoy making music." Watersong's eyes light up as she talks about music. "So besiding doing your Lord's bidding what do you like to do?"
Savith quirks a brow at the question. "My Lord's Will," he replies. His voice is flat in tone, though his eyes remain attentive and curious. The offer of cooking recieves no comment. Merely, it is just filed away for later.
Watersong ohs, "So that's all you do? It must be boring, but each to their own. I couldn't do that all day. I'm always singing or humming, even if it's not out loud."
Savith just nods. For a heartbeat he waits, not giving a reply to Watersong's comment about how boring it must be. With nothing more to say, he turns back to the fire.
Watersong continues to chatter on, not minding Savith's silence, just gives her more chance to talk, "Do you have any family? Or squirts? That's children if you didn't know. I have one, but he's with is father in the plains." She sighs wistfully, "I miss him sometimes, but they were happy in the plains and I am happy at the ocean."
Savith would have replied, but Watersong just kept right on talking. So instead, the Chosen slides his eyes frm the flickering firelight again to regard Watersong.
Watersong looks to Savith and waits for him to reply to her question, "Is that a no?"
"A no about what," he asks in reply. His head tilts faintly in question, like a bird looking at something sideways might.
Watersong giggles, "About having a child silly? Or is it just you all alone at the Blue Mountain."
Savith ohs softly, licking his lips before replying. "I have four, actually." And they all say that the mountain is stagnant! HA!
Watersong oh mys, "Four. Oh I can't imagine that. One was a handful enough. I certainly hope they were spaced out."
Savith's head rocks side to side. "You could say they were," he murmurs, turning his eyes back to the flames. His eyes narrow faintly as the conversation brings to mind a few things, and he stops to think them through.
Watersong ahs, "I'd imagine so. So how long are you going to be here? Is it a long visit like that of your watershaper?"
The voice once again draws Savith from his reverie, and the Chosen turns his gaze back to Watersong. "My stay will be as long as it must be in order to deliever my message and recieve a reply. No more, no less." He pauses than, as if selecting the right words to say. "No," he replies finally.
Watersong looks wistful and put a finger to her lip to tap it gently, "Too bad. That large bird of yours is certainly useful for catching manyteeth. Or so I have heard the hunters talk about it."
Savith nods, an almost smirk playing across his features. "That she is. I do plan on huntnig a little later, or at least scouting the waters for any small manyfang we can collect. I dislike being aburden to tribes I visit."
Watersong waves her hand at him, "Oh pasha, you are not a burden on the tribe. It's an honor to have you here."
That recieves a snort from his nose and a nearly full-fledged smirk, all while his eyes return to the flames. "Not all share your pinion, and so I tread lightly." As Ordered.
Watersong shrugs, "I never cared what other's thought as long as I'm here I'll make you feel welcome."
Savith dips his head at Watersong as he replies, "Very nice of you, thank you." Then his eyes return to the flames.
Watersong smiles, "You're welcome. I don't mind, if you need anything just ask." She looks at the flames and holds out her hands to warm them up before she rubs her arms.
Savith nods to the offer. The night is pleasant for him. Then again, he's in a gull glight suit, and so, when he spots Waterson gtrying to warm herself, he eyes an extra blanket he brought. "If you're cold," he begins. "I have an extra blanket you can borrow for now."
Watersong smiles, "Why thank you." She moves over to him to get the extra blanket and she wraps it around herself before sitting back down. Watersong looks up, "It's a beautiful night out."
As Watersong agrees to the blanket, Savith's mind reaches for it, and brings it to her, meeting her halfway. Once she's settled witht he balnket, he removes his mental hold over it, eyes returning ot the flames. "Hmm, yes, it is," he replies, somewhat distractly.
Watersong looks back at Savith, "Is something wrong Savith? Did your reunion with your daughter not go as you thought it would?"
Oh! That brings Savith to the present. The CHosen stiffens, and turns cold green eyes upon Watersong. "What makes you think it was my daughter," he asks, lifting a brow. "We gliders must all look a like to you, hmm."
Offshore, there's an elf capering in the nighttime water as if it's midday, chasing the ripples of moonlight and starshine across the water without much purpose beyond simple movement.
Watersong wells, "The way you two were carrying on it certainly seemed like it. I could be wrong, I've been wrong before." The noice of the capering distracts her, "Who's out there?"
Savith hmms softly, not replying. At Watersong's question, Savith turns and looks out to sea, eyes narrowing.
After a few momoments more frolicking, the elf in question seems to notice the audience and the fire and waves. **Gentle currents!** Definitely Sandspur. He dives again, but surfaces -- eyes and nose only -- not far from the shore, looking curious.
Watersong smiles, ** Calm tides Sandspur. How are you doing? ** She looks to Savith, "It's just Sandspur."
Ah. Sandspur. Savith eyes the happy-go-lucky elf, eyes curious as well, as he sends his reply. **Clear skies.** Sittign by the fire, they are, and Watersong wrapped in one of Savith's blankets.
**Just swimming. There's a baby boatback out there.** The Raft tribe's resident bit of flotsam bobs in the waves a few moments more, then wades up onto the beach, wringing out his hair and shivering just a little in the night air before he hunkers next to the fire. He tilts his head at Savith. **Have you talked to the chief yet?**
Watersong opens the blanket for Sandspur, "Care to join me? You wouldn't want to freeze. I'm sure Savith wouldn't mind if his blanket got a little wet. I'll hang it out to dry for him if he does."
Savith watches Sandspur makes his way toward teh firesie, shaking his head as the other elf draws near and asks about the chief."I admit that I hav enot, but I have been here but little, and so can wait longer." At Watersong's offer to Sandspur of his blanket, he blinks once. Emotions hard to read ont he Chosen, he replies in a flat even tone, "As you like."
Sandspur blinks and glances from side to side. Finally, he shrugs and shakes his head, simply stretching out full-length by the fire. **I'll dry instead. Then you can salt me and put me in the storage dens as well,** he open-sends, teasing. He plunks his chin down on his palm and regards Savith with grey eyes gone amber in the firelight. **Do you like it here? Do you think you'll stay?** There's an odd undercurrent to that open sending -- or perhaps just odd because foam-headed Sandspur rarely has an undercurrent of anything going through his mind. All his emotions tend to rise to the surface.
Watersong chuckles a little bit as she rewraps herself, "Promises, promises." She turns to listen to Savith's responce as she stretches out her legs and wiggles her toes near the fire.
Savith returns Sandspur's scurtiny firmly, with an unworried look. "I must say no," he replies. "I have my Orders,and once fullfilled, I must take my leave."
Though he makes no send, the look of disappointment on Sandspur's face gives away his opinion on that course of action. He switches to speech. "But it's such a long journey. Doesn't your bird have to rest some more?"
Watersong shushes Sandspur, "Chosen Savith has very many important things to do. His bondbird is very strong and I'm sure she is rested enough even if he had to leave at a moment's notice."
Sandspur looks puzzled. "'Chosen'?"
The disappointment from Sandspur makes Savith nearly chuckle. The expression ends up a smirk on his features, as he shakes his head softly. "Rest or not, My Lord's WIll is my own," he replies. He pauses as Watersong seems to chides Sandspur, and a brow quirks as he wonders just what Watersong knows about gliders and their bondbirds. After all, he made no mention as to what his hawk was called, at least, not to her. Sandspur's question recieves a nod. "Yes. I am Chosen of Blue Mountain, Chosen out of the rest to Protect, Provide, and Serve."
Watersong has been asking around about the glider Savith from other Rafters. She smiles as she listens to Savith explain what the Chosen do. "See it's very important."
Sandspur sighs pitiously. Even his sharp eartips seem to droop. "Will we get to hunt again before you leave?" he asks, his voice wistful.
Asking about, huh? Well, if she had been asking about, it's a miracle her view of him is as bright and pleasant as it is. Granted, he's been polite the last view times he was here, but still. There are too many in this holt that know of the horrorific things a Chosen can do that can spread rumors about him and his baby-snatching ways. Savith flicks a glance at Watersong, before replying to Sandspur, "Most certainly. I was planning a hunt during the day, for a manyfang to provde the tribe with." Like he said earlier, he does so hate to be a burden.
Watersong chose only to believe the good stuff she heard about him, putting the other stuff to misunderstanding and overactive imaginaitons. She smiles at Sandspur, "Maybe if you ask nicely Savith will take you with him."
Sandspur brightens slightly. He was hoping that they could hunt redbelly again, or something that would take just the two of them, but it was better than nothing. "You'll wake me, won't you?"
Good stuff? Like what? The brawl with Shadows where he tore up the wolfrider? The time he flew away with the nweborn Amber? Or what about the constant tailing of the glider refugee Larias? Or the time he nearly skewered an expectant mother with a spear while she was about to drop her child? So many 'good' things to say about Savith. Really, pray tell what good things were said about hte Chosen? After all, he's just playing with Amber and being nice to her when he visists so later he can steal her away and make her thing it was her choice. He nods to Sandspur, "I shall, if you are within send's reach, but I do not think you should join me on a hunt for manyfang. It is a dangerous hunt, to say the least." And Winnowill would BEAT him if he screwed up Raft relations. "If that hunt turns up nothing, I would be willing to hunt redbelly with you again, however."
Well how good a hunter of manyfang he is for one and there is other good stuff to be said about Savith, Watersong just can't remember it right now, not that she ever let that bother her. She nods approvingly and keeps quiet for once as the subject is about hunting something she doesn't know much about.
Sandspur actually sulks a little. "I've hunted manytooth before. Are you planning to fly out and take one on your own?" His eyes light suddenly, sparking excitement, and he leans towards Savith so far he almost unbalances. "Are you hunting from birdback?"
As Watersong stays quiet, Savith focuses upon Sandspur, the excited youth getting a smirk. "I am, indeed," he replies. "To both, hunting manyfang alone, and hunting from birdback. It is the way way to bring in the catch."
Sandspur all but has his chin on Savith's knee at this point. "You know, I don't weigh all that much and Watersong *did* say your bird is strong..."
Savith eyes Sandspur as he practically puts his chin on his knee. But the Chosen refrains from pulling back, or making any sort of motions. Rather, Savith just regard him and replies, "It is not your weight the concerns me, but rather your safety. I would have to divide my attention between you and the hunt. Something that could get us both killed."
Watersong continues to listen attentively to the two males talk about hunting manyteeth. She yawns a little and covers her mouth with her hands before she snuggles down into the blanket that Savith has lent her.
Sandspur sighs and wishes he was better at this cajoling business, but this is as good as he gets at clever speaking. "What? I would fall off into the water at worst."
"And into the mouth of the manyfang, at best," Savith replies, shaking his head. "It is a risk I can not take. I will not hunt manyfang with you astride my bird." Of course, that says nothing about just flying about on the bird's back...
Watersong looks to Sandspur, "You're hide doesn't need any more scars on it Sandspur."
Sandspur blinks and looks down at his scarred chest. Oh yes, those. Well, it is true that he doesn't have that much hide left, but still...flying! With Savith! On the bird! Waaah! All the same, he heroically refrains from kicking the sand and going into a full-on pout. "Oh, very well. I'm not going to hope you come back empty-handed, Savith. And I'd still like to know when you leave."
Savith nods, and is rather glad Sadspur didn't ask for a joy ride. His orders to be polite might have forced him to say yes. There's little danger in it, after all.. At least, none for Sandspur. Saviht, on the other hand, would have immediately been assumed to be flying away with Sandspur... Okay, so Savith would have said no anyway, but STILL! He'd have thought about it, and it's the thought that counts, right? "I'll send for you, or you can listen for my whislte. It's loud enough to be heard clearly for quite a distance."
Watersong smiles and nods, "I hope you have a good hunt Savith and come back with as big a manyfang that your bird can carry." She looks up, "Still it would be nice to ride up in the cloud. Not that I would want to Savith. It would be nice, but I would perfer to keep my feet on the ground."
Sandspur rests his head on folded arms and sighs deeply enough to stir his salt-and-water weighted hair off of his eye. "It must be exciting to fly, though, Watersong. And imagine how much of the world you could see from that height! It took me days and days to reach my island, but I'll be Savith could be there in an eight of hours."
Savith grins smirks, and turns his gaze back to the fire. Finally! His face shows some emotion. And that emotion is pride. Yeah. Flying is da bomb. He won't trade it for anything in the... okay, maybe ONE thing, but let's not go there. Not a pleasant place to be. INstead, Savith sits smugly, watching the fire eat at the logs.
Watersong shrugs, "Maybe so, but I like looking at the world from under the water. The sky is only blue because the water is blue."
Sandspur tilts his head to one side. "What?"
Savith's brows lift faintly a she sits silently and listens to the conversation. But his thoughts stray, and he finds himself cold despite teh flames, and so, a frown forms. He should go back to his bird's nest, and force himself to rest. Especially if he's going to be hunting tomorrow.
Watersong looks over at Sandspur, "I like looking up at the world, not down at it."
Sandspur still doesn't think it makes sense, but nods. "Savith...are you all right?"
Savith hmms, and looks over at Sandspur. He asks the question honestly to himself first, taking note of what's going on. No, he's not fine. How much will that new hatchling change while he's away? It's heartbreaking, despite the fearful thrill that meeting Firestorm was.But to Sandspur he nods, averting his eyes as he out rights lies, "I'm fine. I think I'll retire to my nest now, in preparation for my hunt in the morning." Oh, but standing is a good excuse to avert ones eyes, and so, he stands.
Sandspur sits up. "All right...sleep well." He grins. "Don't forget me!"
Watersong yawns and stands up, "I think I'll go back to the rafts as well." She unwraps and carefully folds the blanket, "Thank you for the use of your blanket Savith." Watersong holds it out to him.
Savith takes the blanket, with his HAND this time!, and nods. "Sleep well," he murmurs to Watersong, eyes cast down to hide the troubled glint to their hue. His mind collects the rest of the bedding he brought down to the beach, haivng thought to nap out here, by the lapping waves. "A difficult thing to do, I assure you, Sandspur," Savith replies, lifting himself from the ground as he collects all hs blankets.
Sandspur watches him go, then settles by the fire again. "You go ahead, Watersong. I'm not tired."
Savith flies to the cliff without another word, mind, body, and soul aching for his lifemate, and the feel of their two hatchlings in his arms. Seeing Firestorm today made him realize just how alone he is when out on a mission. Shivering with a sudden chill as he drops to a landing, he coos at WInddance, pats her gently and covers himself, half sitting half laying aginst his hawk. 'Larias... I hope you're dreaming well,' he thinks to himself, hoping she can hear him, as he closes his eyes and focres his body to rest.
Wednesday, May 26, 2004
Long Lost Daughter
WEDNESDAY, MAY 26, 2004
Logfile from Two Moons - Savith.
Raft Beach - Camp Area - Raft Holt
Beach and forest meets here, and the place is cleared for tents and other forms of shelter. Straight north, you have cliffs stooping down to sharp impassible reefs. Boulders dot the beach there, all the way back to the forest. The beach holds the same characteristic patterns here, as it does all over. White sand with trickles of black. Here, one can enjoy the shades of the palms and coconut trees, or play in the shallows of the water.
It is the dark of night, with little more than the two moons and a sparkling of star to light the way for one and all.
As the midday sun moves toward the western horizon, a Raft's visitor can be found returning from the waterfall side pool, where he cleaned off travel grime. That done, and in a clean uniform, Savith floats down from his bond bird's perch on the cliffs above. Last time Savith was here for a visit, Amber was born. Since then, the CHosen has stopped by twice, mostly for a hunting trip. Each time, he's managed to spend a few hours with the cubling, intent on whatever game she is playing at the time. It's dinner time, and not yet having completed his business here, Savith considers whistling for his bond, WInddance, and heading out over the ocean in search of a small manyfang to bring in for himself and the tribe. Peace offerings are always a good thing.
Watersong comes walking up to the campfire, her hips swaying back and forth. She has a plate of cooked meat and a waterskin. She smiles at the visitor as she sees him, "Calm tides, I thought you might be hungery, I brought you some manyteeth steaks."
Streak's steps are light as the elf darts up the beach, little puffs of sand rising with each footfall; her steps slow abruptly as she catches sight of the visitor and Watersong's approach. A few tentative steps bring her over towards the pair, her sending curious as she wonders, ** You are... Savith? **
Savith never expected such a welcome, and it causes the Chosen to blink a few times, then clear his throat. "I am, actually," he replies to Watersong. "I was going to go hunt, but it seems the kill has been brought to me." And cooked, his eyes notice. He almost grins. At the touch of his name, his face and eyes trns to Streak, as the CHosen nods. "I am."
Watersong smiles as she sashays over to Savith and holds out the plate for him. "Well here you go. You are a visitor after all. I also have a skin of wine if you'd like some. I have a cup and untencils as well for you." She looks over at Streak and smiles at her before turning back to Savith.
Streak's lip quirks wryly as she watches Watersong undulate over to the Glider, clasping her own hands behind her back as she studies him with unashamed eyes, lingering on the sheer height of the flier. ** Be welcome, then, as Watersong has offered... I'm Streak. **
From the tree line drifts a form that has become a somewhat normal sight for those of the tribe, the tall redhead known as Firestorm who has at last regained her full strength. Having been restored her weapons and given free run of beach and forest the half-breed has made many efforts to avoid those of the tribe and stay hidden, or at least alone. It's no secret she doesn't like many others, though she's often in the Chief's company these days. She returns now with a string of fish, spear in hand as always.
Savith lifts his hands for the plate, taking it from Watersong with a gentle nod. "Thank you," he says, "Utensils would be useful." He nods to Streak, and moves to find a seat to sit so he can eat. Firesong enters from behind him, and so Savith doesn't notice her yet.
Watersong opens up the bag at her side and takes out a clean cup, knife and fork, "Here you go Chosen Savith." She smiles at him as she hands over the knife and fork and then pours Savith a cup of wine. Watersong holds it out for him to take when he is ready.
A crease in her brow that settles as her eyes resolve the flicker of movement into Firestorm's entrance, and Streak's mouth tightens almost imperceptibly, tension edging into her limbs. ** I'll let Watersong tend to you--I must go, but I will carry news of your arrival to the others. ** She steps back gracefully, a smooth turn, then her light steps resume to carry her swiftly down the beach and into the sea.
Sandspur has connected.
Savith sends out to Strek quickly, **Your chief, Streak. I must speak with your chief, as soon as possible.** All else is forgotten as he sends.
Streak makes no reply to Savith's send save a wordless assent, her sleek form already diving into the waves.
Watersong opens up the bag at her side and takes out a clean cup, knife and fork, "Here you go Chosen Savith." She smiles at him as she hands over the knife and fork and then pours Savith a cup of wine. Watersong holds it out for him to take when he is ready. (re)
Message delievered, Savith settles back. Nothing left to do but wait. Turning his attention to the meal, Savith pulls out the small knife from his boot to eat with, cutting a bitesized piece and taking a taste. The wine, he glances at, and the cup is pulled from Watersong's hand... by nothing.
Watersong lets go of the cup as soon as she feels the invisible tugging on it. "If you need anything else, just ask Chosen." She smiles as she goes to find a seat, "So what brings you to Raft?"
Savith eyes Watersong a moment, before continuing to eat, sending so he doesn't have to break the movements. **I come at the Order of My Lord to speak with your Chief, as soon as is possible,** he sends. The wine cup is brought to his knee, and held there.
Sandspur climbs out of the surf, smiling broadly as ever. He pauses on the sand, regarding the gathered elves. A string of fresh-caught redbellies dangles over his shoulder. **Well, I'm back,** he open sends. He tilts his head to one side. Firestorm he remembers in passing, but Watersong seems new to him. **Greetings, Savith!**
Watersong looks over at Sandspur and waves to him, "Calm tides Sandspur. How are you doing?" SHe looks back to Savith and ohs, "I see secret chief type stuff."
** What do you want with my Chief? ** comes a defensive, almost posessive send from Firestorm. She eyes the back of the red head, only barely listening in to the conversation, completely missing reference to 'my Lord' and what it could possibly mean, or even the word 'Chosen', though that is a familiar word.
The chatter, even the greeting, Savith seems to only partially acknowledge. It is the send, the defensive feel to it, that catches his attention. Caught mid-bite, Savith turns to look at Firestorm. His head tilts, and he replies. **I want nothing. I must speak with him.**
Sandspur's return send is bright with silent laughter. **I swim away for three seasons, and this is all the greeting I get? Ah, well. I am well enough, thanks to him.** The dripping swimmer drops down on the sand.
Watersong chuckles, "What did you expect? Someone to faint away?" She asks with a smile, "Come join us." She slides over and pats the seat next to her.
Sandspur scoots over to Watersong, wracking his brain trying to remember her. **Thanks.** He holds up his catch. **Redbelly?**
Watersong smiles at Sandspur as she is Splash's and Crest's youngest and cutest baby sister. "Sure, would you like me to cook it up for you."
Firestorm regards Savith for long moments, taking in every angle and stitch of clothing on him and to him, slowly floating back towards the trees, more a motion out of habbit then anything else given she's still holding a spear, and there's a knife tucked into the waistline of her breachs.
Sandspur shrugs. **I've eaten. I had some left and didn't know who else I'd meet.**
Watersong smiles, "Well I'll cook it up and put it in a storage den for later."
She floats. Savith finishes that one last bite, and sets the plate down, one hand collecting the winecup balanced on his knee while the other returns his eating knife to his boot. Ignoring the two raft holters for the moment, Savith glides to his feet. Every detail of Firestorm is taken into account, even.. that knife. **The blade... I wonder where you got it,** he asks, mind soft, almost silken, and yet the interest he shows, that undivided attention, makes it seem.. inky.
Sandspur nods, still smiling. **Have you seen what Savith can do? He went hunting with me...he's fantastic!**
Watersong looks over to Savith and nods, "Yes I've seen what he can do. Magic is very amazing."
Firestorm bares teeth that show slight points, though not nearly as vicious looking as a wolfriders, as she puts her back to a tree. Though her mental voice does not stutter her body language nearly hums with fear. ** I found it. ** For someone so frightened she does well to try and hide it behind her hawk like gaze.
The damp mop of blond hair sprays water droplets all about as Sandspur shakes his head. **Not just the magic! He practically yanked me out of a manytooth's jaws!** An excited, half-jumbled send shares an image of dangling above a shadow in the water.
Watersong holds up her hands to fend off the droplets of water from Sandspur, "Lucky for you. You wouldn't look good with bite out of you."
Sandspur laughs out loud and flops back onto the cool sand. **I don't have that much hide left to sacrifice to manytooths anyway.** He indicates the rough scars along his front. **And I'd prefer not to anyway.**
Faint points? Almost glider tall. Hawkish eyes. So like... Wildstorm.... **Where,** Savith asks, a tremmor beginning in the pit of his own stomch as thoughts race in his mind. 'How old is she? Where did she come from? She's a half-breed, that much is certain, but... Red hair..grey eyes... GREY? Was Clearlight's eyes grey?' High ones... Savith can't remember. A bit of his soul, and he can't remember!
Watersong giggles as Sandspur flops back and she looks down at him, "I'd say not." She winces and raises her hand up to her lips, "Where did you get those scars?"
Sandspur rolls lazily onto one side. His hide and clothing are thuroughly coated in sand, which sparkles in the moonslight. **Drowned a manytooth. Just a little one, though.**
Firestorm faces down Savith for a moment, confused by the questions he asks, she wasn't there, she had nothing to do with what took place. The grip on her spear eases up but her guard doesn't waver as she responds to his question. ** A forest, or what was one a forest till it was destroyed. ** She peers at him now. A glider. Red hair. His eyes though, they're not her's, and even her features are more angled and sharp. Could he be? So many questions unanswered after all these turns.
Watersong turns around to face Sandspur, "How do you drowned a manytooth?"
Sandspur blinks, surprised by the question. **Some of them have to keep swimming in order to breathe. If you grapple one and hold it still, it drowns. They put up a fight though...and they've got skin like sand!**
**The Forbidden Grove,** Savith remarks, eyes studying the half glideress. **I know the are well. It is among the things I must speak to your chieftain about.** 'How long has she been here? Does Ekana know? Fuck! Where /is/ Ekana?' Savith's eyes narrow. Her features are SO angular! Clearlight's must have been.
Short red hair sways. ** I never knew it's name. **, her mental voice responds, still watching Savith, but oddly feeling more relaxed. He does not seem as threatening for some reason anymore, and so she drops her tension as well, even coming forward a little. The two are so alike they could almost be siblings, or perhaps father and daughter. ** I have told my Chief as much of that as I already knew, but I am sure he will welcome any new information you may have for him. **
Savith nods slowly. Everything but the eyes. Grey vs green. Grey eyes just EAT at Savith's memory, but he can't put his finger on it. **You glide,** he comments. **Not many do. It speaks of your hertitage.** Let's see what this does. If it's her, she'll remember... hopefully. Wolfblood does WEIRD things to glider minds.
Watersong ahs a little and nods, "I'd fight too if someone was trying to drown me. I'm glad you haven't gotten hurt to badly. Have you ever tried to drown any of the bigger ones?"
Firestorm stiffens, either through pride of that warriness again. ** I know my hertitage to well, and not well enough. ** What is he hunting for from her, if he does not know, does that mean it's not him, or will her own father not even remember his hatchling.
Sandspur goes eyes-wide and shakes his head again. **I'd wind up a shredded rag on the sand! The little one was a one-time thing. I didn't have a choice.** Again, that wide smile. **Even I know taking on a manytooth with no weapon means red water.**
Watersong smiles back at him, "Unless you planned it right. You could put some rope around a manytooth's tail and tie it to a rock to get him to stop mocing. Hunting manyteeth is very dangerous."
Savith hmms softly, then lifts to the air. **I understand. Come then. When last I saw you, you were a pup, and unable to fly. Let's see what time has taught you, Storm.** It HAS to be her! It hasn't to be... If Ekana lived... why couldn't Wildstorm?
**But not all of them drown if they don't move, just certain kinds. Try that with bottom-feeders and you'll just have a mad manytooth on your hands.** Sandspur watches curiously as the two fliers break off their intense glaring and Savith rises into the sky, wondering what's up.
Firestorm blinks, surprised, but then it dawns on her, you can see it in her eyes. 'It /is/ him!' ** Firestorm... father. ** she corrects, gently, softly, touching only his mind alone, none others need to hear this exchange or know the truth as she lifts into the air to follow him, straining her talents.
Watersong nods, "Probably, I'm a better cook and musician then I am a hunter." She over at the gliders as they life up and leave, "I wonder what that was all about?"
The locksend makes Savith tilt his head... Fire..storm. Makes sense. Most wolfriders change names as they grow older. Father... It is her. It /is/ her. And a shiver runs through him. **Firestorm,** he corrects, then replies. **Once Souldancer, always Savith.** Likewise locked to his daughter's mind, Savith doesn't need to share this with the others. He reaches out a hand, much like he did when he left them in the woods, to die. She can follow now.
Sandspur shrugs, frowning. He feels just a bit hurt that Savith didn't even look his way, but he supposes the visitor has other concerns.
Firestorm takes her father's hand.... and a sense of closure is reached. At long last she has a name, and a face, and .. confussion. He does not seem so horrible as her mother made him out to be, no sneering, no cruelty, but it's him, he knows her, he remembers. ** Savith... may I call you... father. Please? ** she asks him in locksend, her soul yearning for that closeness that only one other would know, but then Firewater isn't here to protect the young elfess.
Watersong smiles at Sandspur, "Would you like to go swimming with me at the Waterfall?"
The shiver settles into a lump at his throat as Firestorm takes his hand. She's alive. All his horrific nightmares, all his guilt... relieved. SHe's alive, and she... she doesn't hate. What hint of warm glimmers into those green green eyes. A tiny tiny smile forms. In locksend, he replies, **Father... you may.** He can't held back the memory of that last time she called him that... when he herd her crying it at the top of her lungs as he left them in the forst.
Sandspur looks over to Watersong and nods, his sunny smile breaking out over his features again. Company is company, after all, and there are other kinds of magic.
Watersong smiles as she holds out a hand to help Sandspur up.
Sandspur lets the pretty one draw him to his feet. "You...were around when I was last here, weren't you? You remember me?"
Logfile from Two Moons - Savith.
Raft Beach - Camp Area - Raft Holt
Beach and forest meets here, and the place is cleared for tents and other forms of shelter. Straight north, you have cliffs stooping down to sharp impassible reefs. Boulders dot the beach there, all the way back to the forest. The beach holds the same characteristic patterns here, as it does all over. White sand with trickles of black. Here, one can enjoy the shades of the palms and coconut trees, or play in the shallows of the water.
It is the dark of night, with little more than the two moons and a sparkling of star to light the way for one and all.
As the midday sun moves toward the western horizon, a Raft's visitor can be found returning from the waterfall side pool, where he cleaned off travel grime. That done, and in a clean uniform, Savith floats down from his bond bird's perch on the cliffs above. Last time Savith was here for a visit, Amber was born. Since then, the CHosen has stopped by twice, mostly for a hunting trip. Each time, he's managed to spend a few hours with the cubling, intent on whatever game she is playing at the time. It's dinner time, and not yet having completed his business here, Savith considers whistling for his bond, WInddance, and heading out over the ocean in search of a small manyfang to bring in for himself and the tribe. Peace offerings are always a good thing.
Watersong comes walking up to the campfire, her hips swaying back and forth. She has a plate of cooked meat and a waterskin. She smiles at the visitor as she sees him, "Calm tides, I thought you might be hungery, I brought you some manyteeth steaks."
Streak's steps are light as the elf darts up the beach, little puffs of sand rising with each footfall; her steps slow abruptly as she catches sight of the visitor and Watersong's approach. A few tentative steps bring her over towards the pair, her sending curious as she wonders, ** You are... Savith? **
Savith never expected such a welcome, and it causes the Chosen to blink a few times, then clear his throat. "I am, actually," he replies to Watersong. "I was going to go hunt, but it seems the kill has been brought to me." And cooked, his eyes notice. He almost grins. At the touch of his name, his face and eyes trns to Streak, as the CHosen nods. "I am."
Watersong smiles as she sashays over to Savith and holds out the plate for him. "Well here you go. You are a visitor after all. I also have a skin of wine if you'd like some. I have a cup and untencils as well for you." She looks over at Streak and smiles at her before turning back to Savith.
Streak's lip quirks wryly as she watches Watersong undulate over to the Glider, clasping her own hands behind her back as she studies him with unashamed eyes, lingering on the sheer height of the flier. ** Be welcome, then, as Watersong has offered... I'm Streak. **
From the tree line drifts a form that has become a somewhat normal sight for those of the tribe, the tall redhead known as Firestorm who has at last regained her full strength. Having been restored her weapons and given free run of beach and forest the half-breed has made many efforts to avoid those of the tribe and stay hidden, or at least alone. It's no secret she doesn't like many others, though she's often in the Chief's company these days. She returns now with a string of fish, spear in hand as always.
Savith lifts his hands for the plate, taking it from Watersong with a gentle nod. "Thank you," he says, "Utensils would be useful." He nods to Streak, and moves to find a seat to sit so he can eat. Firesong enters from behind him, and so Savith doesn't notice her yet.
Watersong opens up the bag at her side and takes out a clean cup, knife and fork, "Here you go Chosen Savith." She smiles at him as she hands over the knife and fork and then pours Savith a cup of wine. Watersong holds it out for him to take when he is ready.
A crease in her brow that settles as her eyes resolve the flicker of movement into Firestorm's entrance, and Streak's mouth tightens almost imperceptibly, tension edging into her limbs. ** I'll let Watersong tend to you--I must go, but I will carry news of your arrival to the others. ** She steps back gracefully, a smooth turn, then her light steps resume to carry her swiftly down the beach and into the sea.
Sandspur has connected.
Savith sends out to Strek quickly, **Your chief, Streak. I must speak with your chief, as soon as possible.** All else is forgotten as he sends.
Streak makes no reply to Savith's send save a wordless assent, her sleek form already diving into the waves.
Watersong opens up the bag at her side and takes out a clean cup, knife and fork, "Here you go Chosen Savith." She smiles at him as she hands over the knife and fork and then pours Savith a cup of wine. Watersong holds it out for him to take when he is ready. (re)
Message delievered, Savith settles back. Nothing left to do but wait. Turning his attention to the meal, Savith pulls out the small knife from his boot to eat with, cutting a bitesized piece and taking a taste. The wine, he glances at, and the cup is pulled from Watersong's hand... by nothing.
Watersong lets go of the cup as soon as she feels the invisible tugging on it. "If you need anything else, just ask Chosen." She smiles as she goes to find a seat, "So what brings you to Raft?"
Savith eyes Watersong a moment, before continuing to eat, sending so he doesn't have to break the movements. **I come at the Order of My Lord to speak with your Chief, as soon as is possible,** he sends. The wine cup is brought to his knee, and held there.
Sandspur climbs out of the surf, smiling broadly as ever. He pauses on the sand, regarding the gathered elves. A string of fresh-caught redbellies dangles over his shoulder. **Well, I'm back,** he open sends. He tilts his head to one side. Firestorm he remembers in passing, but Watersong seems new to him. **Greetings, Savith!**
Watersong looks over at Sandspur and waves to him, "Calm tides Sandspur. How are you doing?" SHe looks back to Savith and ohs, "I see secret chief type stuff."
** What do you want with my Chief? ** comes a defensive, almost posessive send from Firestorm. She eyes the back of the red head, only barely listening in to the conversation, completely missing reference to 'my Lord' and what it could possibly mean, or even the word 'Chosen', though that is a familiar word.
The chatter, even the greeting, Savith seems to only partially acknowledge. It is the send, the defensive feel to it, that catches his attention. Caught mid-bite, Savith turns to look at Firestorm. His head tilts, and he replies. **I want nothing. I must speak with him.**
Sandspur's return send is bright with silent laughter. **I swim away for three seasons, and this is all the greeting I get? Ah, well. I am well enough, thanks to him.** The dripping swimmer drops down on the sand.
Watersong chuckles, "What did you expect? Someone to faint away?" She asks with a smile, "Come join us." She slides over and pats the seat next to her.
Sandspur scoots over to Watersong, wracking his brain trying to remember her. **Thanks.** He holds up his catch. **Redbelly?**
Watersong smiles at Sandspur as she is Splash's and Crest's youngest and cutest baby sister. "Sure, would you like me to cook it up for you."
Firestorm regards Savith for long moments, taking in every angle and stitch of clothing on him and to him, slowly floating back towards the trees, more a motion out of habbit then anything else given she's still holding a spear, and there's a knife tucked into the waistline of her breachs.
Sandspur shrugs. **I've eaten. I had some left and didn't know who else I'd meet.**
Watersong smiles, "Well I'll cook it up and put it in a storage den for later."
She floats. Savith finishes that one last bite, and sets the plate down, one hand collecting the winecup balanced on his knee while the other returns his eating knife to his boot. Ignoring the two raft holters for the moment, Savith glides to his feet. Every detail of Firestorm is taken into account, even.. that knife. **The blade... I wonder where you got it,** he asks, mind soft, almost silken, and yet the interest he shows, that undivided attention, makes it seem.. inky.
Sandspur nods, still smiling. **Have you seen what Savith can do? He went hunting with me...he's fantastic!**
Watersong looks over to Savith and nods, "Yes I've seen what he can do. Magic is very amazing."
Firestorm bares teeth that show slight points, though not nearly as vicious looking as a wolfriders, as she puts her back to a tree. Though her mental voice does not stutter her body language nearly hums with fear. ** I found it. ** For someone so frightened she does well to try and hide it behind her hawk like gaze.
The damp mop of blond hair sprays water droplets all about as Sandspur shakes his head. **Not just the magic! He practically yanked me out of a manytooth's jaws!** An excited, half-jumbled send shares an image of dangling above a shadow in the water.
Watersong holds up her hands to fend off the droplets of water from Sandspur, "Lucky for you. You wouldn't look good with bite out of you."
Sandspur laughs out loud and flops back onto the cool sand. **I don't have that much hide left to sacrifice to manytooths anyway.** He indicates the rough scars along his front. **And I'd prefer not to anyway.**
Faint points? Almost glider tall. Hawkish eyes. So like... Wildstorm.... **Where,** Savith asks, a tremmor beginning in the pit of his own stomch as thoughts race in his mind. 'How old is she? Where did she come from? She's a half-breed, that much is certain, but... Red hair..grey eyes... GREY? Was Clearlight's eyes grey?' High ones... Savith can't remember. A bit of his soul, and he can't remember!
Watersong giggles as Sandspur flops back and she looks down at him, "I'd say not." She winces and raises her hand up to her lips, "Where did you get those scars?"
Sandspur rolls lazily onto one side. His hide and clothing are thuroughly coated in sand, which sparkles in the moonslight. **Drowned a manytooth. Just a little one, though.**
Firestorm faces down Savith for a moment, confused by the questions he asks, she wasn't there, she had nothing to do with what took place. The grip on her spear eases up but her guard doesn't waver as she responds to his question. ** A forest, or what was one a forest till it was destroyed. ** She peers at him now. A glider. Red hair. His eyes though, they're not her's, and even her features are more angled and sharp. Could he be? So many questions unanswered after all these turns.
Watersong turns around to face Sandspur, "How do you drowned a manytooth?"
Sandspur blinks, surprised by the question. **Some of them have to keep swimming in order to breathe. If you grapple one and hold it still, it drowns. They put up a fight though...and they've got skin like sand!**
**The Forbidden Grove,** Savith remarks, eyes studying the half glideress. **I know the are well. It is among the things I must speak to your chieftain about.** 'How long has she been here? Does Ekana know? Fuck! Where /is/ Ekana?' Savith's eyes narrow. Her features are SO angular! Clearlight's must have been.
Short red hair sways. ** I never knew it's name. **, her mental voice responds, still watching Savith, but oddly feeling more relaxed. He does not seem as threatening for some reason anymore, and so she drops her tension as well, even coming forward a little. The two are so alike they could almost be siblings, or perhaps father and daughter. ** I have told my Chief as much of that as I already knew, but I am sure he will welcome any new information you may have for him. **
Savith nods slowly. Everything but the eyes. Grey vs green. Grey eyes just EAT at Savith's memory, but he can't put his finger on it. **You glide,** he comments. **Not many do. It speaks of your hertitage.** Let's see what this does. If it's her, she'll remember... hopefully. Wolfblood does WEIRD things to glider minds.
Watersong ahs a little and nods, "I'd fight too if someone was trying to drown me. I'm glad you haven't gotten hurt to badly. Have you ever tried to drown any of the bigger ones?"
Firestorm stiffens, either through pride of that warriness again. ** I know my hertitage to well, and not well enough. ** What is he hunting for from her, if he does not know, does that mean it's not him, or will her own father not even remember his hatchling.
Sandspur goes eyes-wide and shakes his head again. **I'd wind up a shredded rag on the sand! The little one was a one-time thing. I didn't have a choice.** Again, that wide smile. **Even I know taking on a manytooth with no weapon means red water.**
Watersong smiles back at him, "Unless you planned it right. You could put some rope around a manytooth's tail and tie it to a rock to get him to stop mocing. Hunting manyteeth is very dangerous."
Savith hmms softly, then lifts to the air. **I understand. Come then. When last I saw you, you were a pup, and unable to fly. Let's see what time has taught you, Storm.** It HAS to be her! It hasn't to be... If Ekana lived... why couldn't Wildstorm?
**But not all of them drown if they don't move, just certain kinds. Try that with bottom-feeders and you'll just have a mad manytooth on your hands.** Sandspur watches curiously as the two fliers break off their intense glaring and Savith rises into the sky, wondering what's up.
Firestorm blinks, surprised, but then it dawns on her, you can see it in her eyes. 'It /is/ him!' ** Firestorm... father. ** she corrects, gently, softly, touching only his mind alone, none others need to hear this exchange or know the truth as she lifts into the air to follow him, straining her talents.
Watersong nods, "Probably, I'm a better cook and musician then I am a hunter." She over at the gliders as they life up and leave, "I wonder what that was all about?"
The locksend makes Savith tilt his head... Fire..storm. Makes sense. Most wolfriders change names as they grow older. Father... It is her. It /is/ her. And a shiver runs through him. **Firestorm,** he corrects, then replies. **Once Souldancer, always Savith.** Likewise locked to his daughter's mind, Savith doesn't need to share this with the others. He reaches out a hand, much like he did when he left them in the woods, to die. She can follow now.
Sandspur shrugs, frowning. He feels just a bit hurt that Savith didn't even look his way, but he supposes the visitor has other concerns.
Firestorm takes her father's hand.... and a sense of closure is reached. At long last she has a name, and a face, and .. confussion. He does not seem so horrible as her mother made him out to be, no sneering, no cruelty, but it's him, he knows her, he remembers. ** Savith... may I call you... father. Please? ** she asks him in locksend, her soul yearning for that closeness that only one other would know, but then Firewater isn't here to protect the young elfess.
Watersong smiles at Sandspur, "Would you like to go swimming with me at the Waterfall?"
The shiver settles into a lump at his throat as Firestorm takes his hand. She's alive. All his horrific nightmares, all his guilt... relieved. SHe's alive, and she... she doesn't hate. What hint of warm glimmers into those green green eyes. A tiny tiny smile forms. In locksend, he replies, **Father... you may.** He can't held back the memory of that last time she called him that... when he herd her crying it at the top of her lungs as he left them in the forst.
Sandspur looks over to Watersong and nods, his sunny smile breaking out over his features again. Company is company, after all, and there are other kinds of magic.
Watersong smiles as she holds out a hand to help Sandspur up.
Sandspur lets the pretty one draw him to his feet. "You...were around when I was last here, weren't you? You remember me?"
Saturday, May 22, 2004
Fallen Lord
SATURDAY, MAY 22, 2004
Logfile from Two Moons - Savith.
Main Hall
The room rises up round, walls idle in their shape, with little regard to gravity, and fluid stone columns drip from the ceiling to floor, curving and twisting into deep blue shadows. The massive room is dim, lit only at the far side, where rises the skeleton of a great bird, hovering protectively over the throne of Blue Mountain's Lord. Deep, wide stairs rise up to greet the throne, stopping many feet below, leaving no evident manner of ascending the seat. From time to time, elves flit in and out, through hallways and through narrow, holes in the walls, high above the floor.
Every so often, Savith grins faintly as flickering emotions from his lifemate come to him. The joys of a new child. Ah, so wonderful. But then, it's right back to that sour 'all-business' look. At least, until the next time he grins slightly.
Winnowill tenses in her seat, while the feeling of magical energies being summoned and drawn thrums through the hall. Its as if the air goes thicker for a moment.
Well, that certainly gets Savith's attention. The faint grin vanishes, as he turns his head sharply to his Lord. He floats an inch closer, waiting.
A slight smile plays over the Lord's lips. One that any Chosen would know means someone somewhere is soon to be in very much pain.
The smile makes Savith swallow. Oh boy. And his soul, unbidden, checks on another part of itself. Everything's fine there? Thank the High Ones.
Winnowill breathes in a gasp.. what the??!?!
As Winnowill gasps, Savith tenses. His mind opens, waiting and ready for a thought from his Lord, anything, an order or something, to tell him what he must do, what is happening, how he can do Her Will.
Winnowill furrows her brow, more energy focusing and directing.. sweat breaks out on her brow.
And little klaxons go off in Savith's mind. Danger, Will Robinson! Danger! Something's got the Lord working hard, but now it's clear to Savith: this something is not near by. He sends to the kitchen, to have a fresh pitcher of cool clear water brought: NOW.
Winnowill gasps awake, her eyes wide. She clutches for something, and finds nothing. She teeters, and falls, tumbling down th steps of her Throne.
ACK!! Seeing Winnowill fall, Savith drops like a stone, hoping to gather up his fallen Lord before she can fall all the way to the floor. And this, just as the kitchen server flies in pitcher and goblet on a tray.
Winnowill falls into Savith;s arms, a shocked expression on her face. She mutters.. "What?" A moment later she regains herself. And anger steeples her brow. "Gather the Chosen, NOW."
Logfile from Two Moons - Savith.
Main Hall
The room rises up round, walls idle in their shape, with little regard to gravity, and fluid stone columns drip from the ceiling to floor, curving and twisting into deep blue shadows. The massive room is dim, lit only at the far side, where rises the skeleton of a great bird, hovering protectively over the throne of Blue Mountain's Lord. Deep, wide stairs rise up to greet the throne, stopping many feet below, leaving no evident manner of ascending the seat. From time to time, elves flit in and out, through hallways and through narrow, holes in the walls, high above the floor.
Every so often, Savith grins faintly as flickering emotions from his lifemate come to him. The joys of a new child. Ah, so wonderful. But then, it's right back to that sour 'all-business' look. At least, until the next time he grins slightly.
Winnowill tenses in her seat, while the feeling of magical energies being summoned and drawn thrums through the hall. Its as if the air goes thicker for a moment.
Well, that certainly gets Savith's attention. The faint grin vanishes, as he turns his head sharply to his Lord. He floats an inch closer, waiting.
A slight smile plays over the Lord's lips. One that any Chosen would know means someone somewhere is soon to be in very much pain.
The smile makes Savith swallow. Oh boy. And his soul, unbidden, checks on another part of itself. Everything's fine there? Thank the High Ones.
Winnowill breathes in a gasp.. what the??!?!
As Winnowill gasps, Savith tenses. His mind opens, waiting and ready for a thought from his Lord, anything, an order or something, to tell him what he must do, what is happening, how he can do Her Will.
Winnowill furrows her brow, more energy focusing and directing.. sweat breaks out on her brow.
And little klaxons go off in Savith's mind. Danger, Will Robinson! Danger! Something's got the Lord working hard, but now it's clear to Savith: this something is not near by. He sends to the kitchen, to have a fresh pitcher of cool clear water brought: NOW.
Winnowill gasps awake, her eyes wide. She clutches for something, and finds nothing. She teeters, and falls, tumbling down th steps of her Throne.
ACK!! Seeing Winnowill fall, Savith drops like a stone, hoping to gather up his fallen Lord before she can fall all the way to the floor. And this, just as the kitchen server flies in pitcher and goblet on a tray.
Winnowill falls into Savith;s arms, a shocked expression on her face. She mutters.. "What?" A moment later she regains herself. And anger steeples her brow. "Gather the Chosen, NOW."
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