|
|
| (2 intermediate revisions by 2 users not shown) |
| Line 1: |
Line 1: |
| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/FirstMovement|First Movement]]
| + | #REDIRECT [[ADanceOfAngels]] |
| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/DanceOfAngels|A Dance of Angels]]
| |
| − | | |
| − | == The Windwraith ==
| |
| − | | |
| − | The winds blow cold in the North...
| |
| − | | |
| − | Calibration was only two weeks back, and snow was falling already. Summoned to the presence of the Seven Sages, Cael docked the Quicksilver Zephyr on the outside of the hidden valley that hosts the sanctum of the court, and walked in... the door opened to him, snow-covered trees giving way to the vastness of their palace. Children played on the gardens, their caretakers, mostly women, watching over them... they weren't there before, on the secluded court. Something got the house full...
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Greetings, Cael!" Comes the lovely young voice of Neera, a Nymph on the service of the Deep Soil Sleeper. "It has been a long time! You look good as always, too. Come, come, the elders are waiting for you inside!"
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Cael:</b> Cael smiles warmly at the young nymph "And you look as radiant as you always do, Neera." He briefly checks himself over, slightly smoothing the line of his cloak, before setting beside the nymph "So, what has happened since I last visited the court?" he asks
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Neera:</b> "Aside from the world turning upside-down?" She says, her lips moving in a smile devoid of happiness, trying hrd to see the bright side of a situation without one.... "You heard about Whiteshield, right? Just a bit to the south, on the margin of the river... poor people were worried with the Raksha or the Bull going north, and they got completely by surprise... pure overkill. Deathknights came into the palace of the Royals, and murdered all of them... they took the capital over in a single day, Cael."
| |
| − | | |
| − | She hugs herself, suddenly cold... "Sweet Melody took her favorites and hid them here, but she is worried... all of them are. This was too sudden... and probably the reason they called you with such urgency, too."
| |
| − | | |
| − | She gives the sad smile again, "Sorry, wish I had more interesting news to give..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Cael:</b> "...In a day?" he mutters softly to himself under his breath, such power the dead commanded these days...
| |
| − | | |
| − | He doesnt let any of his worry reach his face, giving the young girl his most warm and reassuring smile "Do not worry, Neera. That news is interesting...just not the best."
| |
| − | | |
| − | HE picks up his pace a little "I suppose we should walk a little faster then.."
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Neera:</b> "In a day. They had many deathknights... just appeared inside the city walls. Least that is what I hear... there were lights too, but... it is taken. Taking the rest was easy once the head is cut off..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | Unearthly gates of black diamond, shining with flame-like reflections open without a sound as Cael approaches, fine cold mist coming out.... only cold enough to feel home to a resident of the north. Inside, the entrance hall of the Winter Palace, the many doors leading to the countless corridors of the palace, so much greater on the inside than in the outside. And straight foward, the sages' chamber.
| |
| − | | |
| − | Opening just in time to not be a hassle as well, not even lowering the pace of Cael's stride, it opens... and before his eyes the many elementals and spirits fly around, serving the three of the seven that are home. the Deep Soil Sleeper, the old elemental of Wood, the only elemental among the council is tended by his Nymphs and Wood Spiders. Sweet Melody plays a violin, with the aid of other minor spirit servants of hers', trying to calm herself... and Jugen of the Thirty Ways, a minor god of sorcery stands atop the ground, looking down on the room as he floats on his Scavenger Lord's garb....
| |
| − | | |
| − | It is Jurgen who first notices his coming, but the Deep Soil Sleeper who first address him. "Cael, Cael... welcome, child. How has the land treated you lately?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Cael:</b> Cael pauses for a brief moment on his entrance to take stock of who is in court, the sight still awing him alittle after all this time.
| |
| − | | |
| − | He bows in respect to the Deep Soil Sleeper "Very well, thank you Deep Soil Sleeper, very well indeed. How fares your domain?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Deep Soil Sleeper:</b> When the old elemental has answered, he nods to acknowledge Jurgen before walking over to Melody and bowing deeply "Sweet Melody, might I offer my most heartfelt condolances for the terrible fate that has befallen you...there are things in Creation that just should not come to pass..." He lets his voice convey his symmpathy for his loss
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Very well, very well...." He says, on a slow, peaceful voice, stroking his 'chin'. A lumbering, shambling mass of sod and earth, a worm falls from his arm as he does so, squirming helplessly on the ground, "As long as things grow upon the soil and all creatures live in it, I will be well. When you content yourself with so little, there is not much that would make you worry, child... and the north is vast." He gestures to Neera, who walks near him, "Thank you for bringing him here, child. You are always very prestative.." He says, mussing her leaf-hair ike a farmer would to his granddaughter.
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Sweet Melody:</b> She does not stop playing, but every word out of Lowyn Innocent-Eyes, the goddes of music of whiteshield, is still music, "Many thanks, Cael Pattona. A gentleman as always..." She smiles, singing a conversation. "Yes, some things should not come to pass. There is so little music in them... no creativity, only the monotonous chant of death cults, and screams of anguish... tit is... intolerable. And that, you might have guessed, is why we called you here today."
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Cael:</b> Cael winces slightly at the mention of deathcults and screams of anguish "Dark times for sure." he nods
| |
| − | | |
| − | He bows once more "Of course, I am at the service of my lady and the court. Tell me, please, how you think I might be able to aid you in this."
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Sweet Melody:</b> "You are so sweet, Cael. You deserve a song!" She smiles, finger on her lips, imagination a work... "Now, how would you be of service? You see...."
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Jugen of the Thirty Ways:</b> "... we need you to find someone" Jugen finishes, the dashing scholar lowering herself from his hovering spot, adjusting his glasses, strands of coal-black hair falling over his face, "Since you would not last long if you went against a Circle of Deathknights and their army of dirty abominations, anyway. Chosen or not." He says, with just a tinge of what might have been a snipe. "You see, the youngest of the royal family of Whiteshield, Alexander, has exalted, like you. A chosen of the Zenith, he is.... quite providential."
| |
| − | | |
| − | "He managed to survive the slaughter, and rush away with a very special weapon... gathering quite an interesting company on the proccess. We want Whiteshield free, you see... and the Undead purged. But..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | "... we cannot _quite_ interfere, as you know. Gideon has lots of enemies who would jump over infractions like these. The boy, and his companions have power... but they may not understand the situation. He is still a boy, and on his foolishness, he might dive right into his death. Or be lured to it, if the people with him are any indication..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | "We want you to help them, protect them from their foolishness, fight against a deathlord, and liberate a country. See how we are nice? We didn't even ask for tea or the like." He grins. "At least that is the short version."
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Sweet Melody:</b> "You underestimate Cael, Jugen..." She smiles. "Never underestimate a chosen of the sun, boy. You were not around when they were a force to be reckoned with, and even their diplomats can be deadly. Or even deadlier... they don't need to kill you to make you regret ever meeting them!" The nuances on her singing voice almost told a story, and all could feel as if listening to old tales of Eclipse oaths binding unfortunates, subliminal to her speech... "... And there is, of course, the Zephyr. Alone, those around the boy have great problems ahead of them... but if your presence would unite them, Cael, if your resources would givethem wings... we believe their chances are much greater."
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Cael:</b> Cael raises his eyebrows slightly at the task, a grin slipping over his features. This should be fun
| |
| − | | |
| − | "If only you had asked for tea, Jurgen, for I have a small crate of that in The Zephyr..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | He nods to Melody "Wings I can grant them, and speed beyond that which they could hope to achieve. As for unity...that I could not tell you without my meeting them..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | He turns to Jurgen "What about his companions gives you to worry so much about the young prince's safety?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Sweet Melody:</b> "To put it on the simplest terms..." Sweet melodie chants, her eyes enigmatic. "They are Deathknights as well. One is certain to serve the Lover - she seems to be as annoyed at this trespassing on <i>her</i> territory. The Pale Angel, maybe you have heard of her?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | And Cael has. The Pale Angel Brigade was a powerful military force in the North, led by a fearless Ghost-blooded whose sight was told to be able to freeze the blood in one's veins... until they were betrayed and murdered, down to the last. Well, or so the story went. "That is another reason for us... for me... to ask for you. She is... crafty. I lost some of my best children to her, to play only for her and waste their lives in the red ice. I don't wish Whiteshield to simply trades Deathlords."
| |
| − | | |
| − | Somewhere, out in the distance, the fearsome Pale Angel sneezes abruptly... ^_^
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Deep Soil Sleeper:</b> "And the other might be someone.... famous, here. But we are not sure yet... we will know soon now, won't we?" He says to Melody, the voice of a grandfather wondering which of his grandchildren will come for a sunday dinner. "Until any of us are... sure, it might not be better to talk."
| |
| − | | |
| − | He strokes his chin again, the twin rocks in forehead - shiny coals or blunt onyx, take your pick - glinting. "There might be others as well... interested in this. Windia, to the West, is being threatened... the Icewalkers now have a necropolis on their backs... the Silver pact is restless over... this. Haslanti now feels the Bishop is on the two sides of it, so sudden. I hear much. The north doesn't like it."
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Cael:</b> "Ah..the Pale Angel..yes, I have heard of her, her prowess....and her demise." he gives a small shrug "Which would explain her being a deathknight rather admirably, one supposes."
| |
| − | | |
| − | He nods once more to Melody "I understand your pain, from the tales I hear, the Fortress Of Crimson Ice is no place I would want any I cared for to visit, and to see Whiteshield made into a copy of it...It lacks grace. The dead have enough territory in Creation."
| |
| − | | |
| − | He winces briefly at the mention of the Haslanti "I have heard little of the pact these past few months, as for the Haslanti..while my presence is sure to bring their interest, I am less sure it will bring their aid. The Zephyr does still rankle with them..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | He gives a small shrug "I suppose we might have to try and arrange a temporary truce of sorts. It would be foolish of them to argue over a toy when the world falls to darkness around them, but..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Sweet Melody:</b> "Yes, yes.... and to know that a skill of a hundred symphonies now plays for only one mistress... dominating his inspiration until his death is... a sad thing." She sighs, and even that, she does melodically, like a trick of a singer. "You can try... but they still hang the bards that wish to sing of your exploits.... specially of your first one. That wounded their pride deeply, Cael. And made for wonderful songs!"
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Cael:</b> Cael smiles widely at Melody "Well, of course, I only do such things for the songs they will make, since I know you love the songs so.." he is serious once more "Neverless, I will be careful in my dealings with them, while I am sure the songs they would sing would be most grand, they are not songs I wish to hear for a long time."
| |
| − | | |
| − | "But, I am digressing..on the subject of my task, do any of you have an idea of where in the north I might find this rather intriguiging group that has formed itself round the crown prince.The North is a large place, and while the Zephyr is fast, time would appear to be of the essence."
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Jugen of the Thirty Ways:</b> "Whiteshield is an area of special interest, always has been. Like Windia or Crystal, it has riches all of its own.. many of those forbidden. Led by people with such an interesting golden blood... so much wonderful magic. Less overt like others, at least.... that is how they survived so far. At least, until you proceed deep enough..." He smiles, "Oh, of course, we were neglecting this point. A friend of ours knows where, but he appears to be late. And no, we don't expect you to go around shouting their names on the middle of the frozen plains... although, I grant, it would be quite amusing." He moves his finger, "On the meantime, Is there anytihng you think we could provide you, Cael?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Cael:</b> "I cannot think of much beyond some supplies for the Zephyr...especially some of the ice-fruits that grow on the trees outside your court. They are a delicacy I have yet to find in the wider world..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | Cael considers "Though, if I am to aid in protecting and guiding the prince.." He turns to Jurgen "While I have a certain amount of skill in defending myself, which is of course essential in this world, my weapons are not the most effacious. I know your worshipers of bring you trinkets of interest from about the North, have you recieved anything recently that might aid me?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | Cael turns his attention, and his most warming smile back to Melody "And finally, might I ask for a lock of your hair, for luck, and to remind me what I strive for?" his eyes sparkle as he asks
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Jugen of the Thirty Ways:</b> "Ooh, now that you ask..." He grins, confidence incarnate, his scavenger lord garb, at the same time practical and flamboyant, swooning in nonexistant winds, "Good to see you are well-informed... and conscious of your limitations. I prefer those who work with steel magery, the forge of <i>interesting</i> materials mined... but see, I like creativity in the craft. Someone brought me... this." He says, searching on a pocket and producing two bands... woven strands of... Orichalcum? No, there is Orichalcum there, on the borders, but it is... isn't... made of it. "This is frozen sunlight, harnessed on the farthest north, before the Wyld, after Reason. My most talented servant brought it to me... made as an offering. Harmonizes wonderfully with the Exalted... here!" He says, making them float with a gesture towards Cael, "Try it"
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Sweet Melody:</b> "My, my, how could I <i>ever</i> deny a request like <i>that</i>?" The goddess of music blushes, the melody telling of it as she takes the bow of her violin and passes it through her golden hair, cutting a lock she proceeds to bind with music, whispering words into it, and walking up to the Eclipse, still blushy, and placing it on his hand, with a gentle kiss on his brow, "Hold it to your ear, and you will hear my song for you..." She whispers, winking before turning around and going back to her violin...
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Cael:</b> Cael smiles, well pleased at the kiss, running his fingers over the golden locks, "You have my eternal gratitude, Sweet Melody." he makes a small bow, and when he rises, the lock has vanished into one of his many pockets for safe keeping.
| |
| − | | |
| − | He turns his attention to the bracers before him, picking them off the pocket of air bearing them aloft, watching the way the way the light plays off them. "Truely, their craftsmanship is exemplary." he remarks as he studies them, running his fingers over the bands of sunlight, frozen so perfectly.
| |
| − | | |
| − | He carefully unbuttons his sleaves, revealing the swirling, dancing tattoos that comprise the Empyrean Binds, slipping the bracers over them. "The fit is perfect, Jurgen. My thanks."
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Jugen of the Thirty Ways:</b> "As well as it should. Those are Sun’s Fire, Cael... they will protect you well, I am sure." The young god of sorcery says, proud. “Though probably not as well as the Empyrean Binds.” He says, the eyes of the Thaumaturge god running over the golden writing on Cael’s skin.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "...Now, where is that slowpoke? Heaven's Messenger my..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Stranger:</b> “Sorry for the delay!” Comes the voice of a man striding into the chamber on a magnificent horse that seems almost... translucent. A golden-haired, honey-eyed man clad in white clothes, sword sheathed on his belt, a package in an arm. “Hope I didn’t make you wait too much, honorable ones. As you know, I have urgent bussiness all around.” Hanging the package, that seems to be a box of... clothes? Cookies? Something more arcane? On his belt as well, he bows politely to all the spirits, speaking in the clearest old Realm.
| |
| − | | |
| − | After the courtesies, he walks towards the windwraith, smiling. “Cael Pattona, I presume?”
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Sweet Melody:</b> "Keep them safe, Cael... and maybe you will get more someday." She winks, then nods to the stranger's coming. "You took your time. Things are forever busier, aren't they? A time of many songs, this one..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Cael:</b> Cael turns his head to the god curiously. "What do you know of the Empyrean Binds, Jurgen...I know naught but their name, and the words that they write..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Any gifts that I recieve from you, I will treasure I'm sure, Melody"
| |
| − | | |
| − | Cael takes careful stock of the newcomer, looking him up and down "I am Cael Pattona, yes. I must admit you have me at something of a disadvantage.." he waits for the man to introduce himself, or be introduced.
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Jugen of the Thirty Ways:</b> "I will tell you some other time, Cael. When you have time and the mindset to understand it..." The young god says, seeing the frozen sunlight shine on his wrists... <i>And understand all that comes with it...</i>
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Stranger:</b> "And I will have to keep you at this disadvantage for now, if you will excuse me." He smiles, not meaning any snipe by that, "Will you come with me? I am sure the honorable ones have other matters to attend to than to have us chatting in their court... and I prefer to carry such conversations while walking."
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Cael:</b> Cael lets the briefest hint of ..concern? ghost over his face at Jurgen's words and the implications thereof "As you wish Jurgen." He nods
| |
| − | | |
| − | He shrugs slightly to the stranger as if to say 'if it suits you' not letting it bother him. "Of course."
| |
| − | | |
| − | He turns back to the court "I will take my leave of you, Lords, my lady" with a bow to each of them in turn . "I hope I shall be able to bring better tidings on my return."
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Shall we walk then?" he gestures to the stranger, walking by his side from the court.
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Stranger:</b> The court says their byes and bid you your leave as you and the stranger - reining the mystical horse close behind him - walk through the garden, seeing Melodies' proteges running about. "You know, I have been keeping Whiteshield safe for a long time... that place is very important for me. Made so many compromises..." He says, staring off into the distance... "Oh, sorry, I shouldn't be speaking like this... you need to be able to find them, right? I can show you the way. Just need to tell you to... be careful. The situation seems to get more... complicated, by the minute."
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Cael:</b> Cael listens to him carefully "If you feel the need to share something, do not hesitate on my account, please...But, I shall be careful. I have fond memories of Whiteshield, and it would be nce to do something to set it back on the right path."
| |
| − | | |
| − | Cael takes a moment to watch the children playing in amongst the trees, before he nods "If I am to help them, I need to find them."
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Stranger:</b> "I thought as much.... here." He says, a Gull of coalesced blue fire appearing on his hand, deposited on Cael's. "I conjured it on the way here. This will lead you to the boy... where they will be soon. I'd be careful, though... I know the soldiers of the Deathlord are powerful enough to even bring down your wings."
| |
| − | | |
| − | "An old friend of mine directs them... and I know he would do no less."
| |
| − | | |
| − | <b>Cael:</b> "Old friends can be hard, yes." He nods, smiling at the bird in his hand. "Take care, friend of the Seven sages"
| |
| − | | |
| − | ----
| |
| − | | |
| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/FirstMovement|First Movement]]
| |
| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/DanceOfAngels|A Dance of Angels]]
| |
