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Post by Sylvari Dawnsage on Dec 11, 2023 9:30:22 GMT -5
Though she may have seemed to many an insurmountable tide of justice, Sylvari was keenly aware of just how far she had to go to achieve true mastery of her craft. She had seen swordsman that could level forests with a single swing, shamans that could bring down huge beasts with hellish gouts of fire, and more than a few beasts that gave even the justiciar pause. As such, she made it a yearly ritual to come to Moonglade and immerse herself in its lush forests. The land always seemed to house the most interesting and dangerous creatures. Sylvari figured if she was culling beasts that would threaten common folk while training, she was serving justice doubly, and she so loved efficiency, a trait forcibly instilled by her father.
Despite her frequent visits, Sylvari was both wary and respectful of the ancient woods. She knew dark things stalked the ground here, and the arrogant would perish long before their puffed-up pride would kill them anywhere else. The vampiress moved slowly, methodically as she went, deeper into the wilderness. She had heard of a Witch in Moonglade, a powerful sorceress who, though well-regarded, evoked a deep and abiding respect for her mastery.
Sylvari had grown enough in her travels to discard foolish and immature understandings of what goodness looked like. When she had just been exiled from her clan, she would rail against any that practiced mysterious or dark arts, not giving any thought to her own cursed heritage and her hypocrisy therein. It was a wonder she ever survived those first days. Now older, and considerably more world-conscious, she had augmented her definition of justice several times to be a more functional directive. If the Witch of these woods helped people, and wasn't sacrificing children to fuel her powers, far be it from a vampire and practicing necromancer to cast stones.
A point most poignantly illustrated as Sylvari's skeletal dragonling [Necromancer, Undead Servant], Noe, brushed his skull against her cheek from his perch on her pauldron. Apparently, she had gotten too deep in thought and had not given her servant appropriate attention. Smiling ruefully, Sylvari affectionately rubbed the bony crest of Noe's snout as she set her eyes ahead and forged deeper, into the murky depths of the woods.
Though there were sounds of wildlife all around, Sylvari was, admittedly, an amateur hunter and scout. She relied on beasts strong enough to fight her willingly. Moreover, she didn't care to go out of her way on a culling campaign: if the creatures were too frightened to approach a lone woman in the woods, they likely wouldn't harass townspeople either.
Sylvari wasn't adept in stealth in any way: though she moved gracefully in her armor, it was the result of years of strength training to wear it without bearing its restrictions [Knight, Light as a Feather]. Even so, the justiciar dropped low into a crouch as she came upon the sleeping form of a massive black drake. Sylvari narrowed her eyes. Though she was far from certain she could fell such a creature, with it being a mere day's walk from the nearest town, she feared for the safety of the people there. Justice called upon her to act: to succeed or die trying. Sylvari didn't care for the underhanded tactics of attacking a sleeping enemy, but she would need every advantage she could get if she wished to survive this encounter. Bit by creeping bit, the justiciar stalked forward to enact her mission.
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Post by Lady Kamille Verlithax on Dec 11, 2023 10:38:41 GMT -5
The pair or ravens soared high above as the winter breeze had finally set in Moonglade. Not that Moonglade would ever be as cold as the northernmost part of Charon, as the lush forest held back on some of the warmth. Cold would never set in deep into her bones, but still a nice change she gladly welcomed, as she felt the cold wind sliding through her dark feathers. Though it was not only a cape of black feathers that engulfed her - but, as she did once in a while, she took the shape of a raven to fly around the forest as she looked for her ingredients [1], much like the druids had advised her to do.
Yet, unlike the druids from the Moonglade conclave, flying didn’t come as natural to her. The absence of the feeling of the earth - she could feel it breathing beneath her feet sometimes - at first would have her anxious. Beings of the earth weren’t meant for the skies.
Or so she thought.
Mischief flew ahead, and she watched as her raven, often mistaken for her familiar, bent and turned, adjusting his flight as he felt the wind thrusting and pushing at his wings. Never she would've thought that Mischief, of all beings, would teach her something useful. But she didn’t let her ego come in the way of learning new things, and so far just watching the raven fly had been enormously helpful.
Although, perhaps something must be said about following in mischief's example...
The raven dove sharply, and if experience said something about the Witch's familiar, was that he seemed ready to pounce on some shinnies. His beetle eyes scanned the forest for anything remotely shinning and sparkly, hunting for his treasures. The Witch dove right behind him, ready to defuse whatever situation Mischief would bring upon himself. Rings and necklaces rarely ever were just lying around the forest, and if he found them with the hands and necks that matched them, then they'd have a problem. Her little thief was adoribly unsuspecting of the illicit nature of his business, leaving the Witch to handle the consequences of his actions.
Though, certainly that was not what she was expecting.
The shimmer didn’t come from jewels or coins, but rather an armor. An impressive armor, that is for sure. Thin rays of sunlight filtered through the tree tops and made it glisten softly from her hideout, enough to grab Mischief's attention. What really brought a sense of urgency was to realise that that person's attention was focused on a spot right ahead.
Kalaf.
As much as time could be written on one's skin, the drake's wings told a story of violence and survival. Such was the life of dragons, violence etched in the giant leathery wings as scars and rips. It was a fully grown drake, the kind one would hope to find at the Ash Lands, not deep in the Moonveil forest. Old, heavy, possibly not the quickest, peacefully taking his nap, right there in the open. For it was common for the greatest predator around to not care for finding a place to be safe. What kind of claws and fangs could penetrate his scales?
But perhaps a sword could.
One after the other, the ravens landed on a nearby tree. The first one had it's beetle eyes locked on the stranger's armor, scanning her up and down excitedly. The second one, with deep blue eyes, quietly focused on her face. While her beautiful features didn’t ring any bell, there's a familiar strangeness in her eyes that reminded her of...
"CAAAW! Hello, shinny!"
Mischief croaked loudly and suddenly, enough to make her jump in place.
Enough to make the drake stirr.
[1]Shapeshifters plate
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Post by Sylvari Dawnsage on Dec 11, 2023 11:16:07 GMT -5
Sylvari was physically startled by the sudden exclamation from the trees. She whipped her head around and lifted her shield, wary of any people that might be trailing her. To the justiciar's evident relief, there were only a pair of ravens perched upon a nearby tree bough, where the sound seemed to have originated.
Sylvari knew ravens to be intelligent creatures, capable of mimicking people's speech, without any magical enhancement, but she found it odd that such a bird would be here in the middle of the forest. It may have been the runaway pet of some nearby townsperson, but she wondered whether such a domesticated animal would survive, unharmed, here in one of the more dangerous places in the world. There's the other one there too. The poor dears. After I deal with this drake, I'll see if I can't return them home.
Speaking of drakes, it seemed the bird's cry had stirred the mighty beast, as it began to rise to its feet. Even quadrupedal, the drake was taller than Sylvari at the shoulder. It's obsidian scales glinted in the filtered sunlight, even as her darkened plate did. The beast lifted its massive head well above her own and regarded her with eyes that were somehow dismissive and suspicious all at once. Sylvari could feel a cold dread trickle down her spine and settle into the pit of her gut.
She had heard that dragonkin were intelligent creatures, mostly from stories and legends, but seeing the beast's massive, powerful form, she was willing to take any chance that would avoid combat. Luckily, her frosty warhammer remained slung on her back, and thus, the justiciar looked as peaceable as one could reasonably expect to clad in full plate and hefting a shield. She lifted her arms placatingly and hoped against hope that this particular dragon was not given to violence against people.
"Good day, noble beast. I was training in the area when I came upon your slumber. If you are peaceful, I have no quarrel with you." Sylvari smiled weakly, cheeks flushed slightly in embarrassment thinking about how she intended to attack the creature just moments before. And the fact that I will still have to fight if it has a taste for mortal flesh. She felt like a an opportunistic cretin to be so easily swayed by circumstance and cursed herself for it.
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Post by Lady Kamille Verlithax on Dec 12, 2023 8:14:34 GMT -5
There's this weight, this heaviness in the eyes of the old one. Not irrational, violent bloodthirst, but clearly the potential for violence, a subdued anger that found itself quenched by the passing centuries written all over his wings. He seemed annoyed more than anything else that he'd been awakened, a fine trail of black smoke escaping his nostrils.
"Training, you say?"
The blue-eyed raven flew from their perch up on the trees, landing on a rock closer to the vampiress. The curious bird eyes the knight up and down, before also speaking up.
"...training on stealth, maybe? A bit counterproductive with your armor on. What's that warhammer for? And the shield?"
"SHINNY! CAWWWWW!"
One was clearly much more eloquent than the other, no doubt. Moonglade was home for many druids, so it wasn’t much of a jump to think one of the ravens might be one of them. The black drake's red gaze turned towards the blue-eyed raven, before glancing once more to the justicier. A step closer, and he stretched its long reptilian neck towards her, taking a good sniff.
...and them puffing a cloud of black smoke to her face.
"Don’t be rude, Kalaf! That's not how you make friends!"
But the drake didn’t seem interested in making friends, as much as he didn’t seem to deem the vampiress a threat. Slowly, the drake gave her his back, rounding up once again, like a dog would trample the ground in circles to get comfortable to sleep.
"Please excuse him. He is a little grumpy when people wake him up."
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Post by Sylvari Dawnsage on Dec 12, 2023 10:54:17 GMT -5
Despite her wariness of the drake, Sylvari couldn't help but cock her head in surprise at the blue-eyed raven's speech. The disparity in eloquence between her and her companion was notable, to say the least, and Sylvari was so frazzled in this moment that it took her a few seconds to formulate a reasonable estimation of the truth.
She had met shifters and druids on her path before, of course; one of her best friends in the world was a druid. Even so, she had never met another soul in the Moonglade forests in her previous training sessions, not even the wild people of nature, so it was a bit of a paradigm shift for the young justiciar. Once she grappled with the new information, particularly noting how the shifter seemed to have authority over the drake, allaying any worries she had of the beast's violence, Sylvari quickly shifted her posture and tone to one of respect and conciliation. She bowed, low and courtly, to the raven.
"Ah, terribly rude of me. I beg your pardon, my lady. My name is Sylvari Dawnsage. I was unaware this area was under your watchful eye. I sincerely hope I am not intruding upon your hospitality, but I will leave quickly if you have no desire for visitors. As for my reason for being here, I am a justiciar of the light, you see. My divine mandate bids me ever improve for the administration of my mission. Moonglade is the perfect intersection of dangerous beasts to hone my skills of combat, as well as those close enough to common folk to be dangerous."
Craning her neck to again look at the adult drake, a half smile appeared on Sylvari's face. "Please, no apologies are necessary. I was the one who stumbled upon him most rudely. Besides, I am accustomed to the whims of dragonkin." She smiled fondly at Noe, who leapt down in her arms and strained his tiny neck with interest at the raven. Doubtless the tiny creature was confused about the nature of a talking bird, but he received enough information through the empathic link to his mistress to know that this was a friendly interaction.
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Post by Lady Kamille Verlithax on Dec 13, 2023 21:14:47 GMT -5
Once Sylvari had properly introduced herself, she felt she owed the woman no less than that. The blue-eyed raven leaped out of the stone, and a flurry of black wings suddenly grew from her small frame to a much larger one. The woman that emerged was still covered in black feathers, but that was her cape, lined with raven feathers - one with a bit of information knew that to be the trademark of the Witch of Moonglade. The delicate elven features lent something mysterious to her beauty, yet she had something that felt more grounded. Stars swimming in blue eyes filled with the arcane power, pulling into anyone who would allow it. Anchoring. Her smile was warm and genuine. " On the contrary, I don't mind for visitors. Actually, I was used to receive much more visits... But that was before the forest became a bit more dangerous. A justiciar of the light, hm?" There was a hint of confusion in her eyes, and while she didn't look judgemental, a raise of the eyebrow indicated she noticed some discrepancy in Sylvari's speech, especially when she mentioned being a "justiciar of the light", in which her eyes wandered to the small companion she held.
"You can call me Kamille, Miss Sylvari. Nice to meet you."
If the drake didn't seem worried about the newcommer, it seemed to have something to do with the presence of the Witch. He blinked at her, slowly, one eye after the other, before resting his head on the ground once again, watching the meeting between the two. " Sadly, the beasts are the least of Moonglade's problems nowadays. There's few beasts that will try and encroach on Kalaf's territory, so his presence keeps the place. Mortals, on the other hand, always have the audacity and lack of self preservation to try and do something funny around here..." Although it might've sounded like a verbal jab, at the same time it didn't feel like it. Moonglade's troubles with bandits finding somewhere to hide on the forest was a well known concern around the area. " But I thank you, Miss Sylvari Dawnsage, for your concern. Might I ask where you came from? And why Moonglade?"
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Post by Sylvari Dawnsage on Dec 14, 2023 11:00:11 GMT -5
While Sylvari's widening eyes at the revelation of the raven's identity were hidden behind her half veil, her stiffening posture of sudden realization was not. After a moment, Sylvari recovered, bowing again, her tone low and deferential.
"Of course, Lady Kamille. I know you by reputation if not by familiarity. You have my sincere admiration for how you've kept relative peace in the area, despite the challenges stacked against you. I would certainly seek to emulate your resolve in my mission."
Sylvari nodded her head sympathetically as Kamille spoke about the problems with bandits in the area. She had certainly seen such things, typically on the shallower fringes of the forest, but such highwaymen were always a problem for the citizenry. The justiciar had done what she could to disrupt their operations, but it seemed whenever she dismantled one outpost, two more sprung up in their place.
Discretion was the better part of mercy, and while Sylvari gave second chances, she did not give thirds. She had seen a few repeat offenders in these raids, and had done what justice demanded of her, however much it pained her to do so, her face scrunching up in distaste at the memories. Even so, the majority of times she had done follow-up sweeps, the bandits were entirely unknown to her. For whatever reason it seemed this land was suffering from an outsized plague of malcontents. Are they being oppressed unjustly by their leaders to choose such criminality, or does something about this land merely attract the scum of villainy in ways the others do not? It was a question to continue to grapple with, for though Sylvari wished otherwise, her oath did not provide her a defined code or stricture. She was forced to grapple with the administration while her creed demanded only obeisance.
Still, there were other times for such philosophical wonderings. Right now, the Witch was requesting more information of her.
"Where I came from, Lady Kamille? A question with many answers depending on what exactly you're asking. My oath to justice bids me wander the lands, and thus, I don't have an established home to holiday away from. I was most recently in the region of Frost Gale for one of my dear friends, but he knows of my yearly pilgrimages of self improvement. If you're asking where I originally hail from, that would be the Crescent Isles. Perhaps that's the answer to your next question as well. Moonglade is close enough in topography and culture to be reminiscent of the land that still holds a burgeoning homesickness in my heart, without the... personal issues that such a trip would involve." Sylvari's respectful expression shifted to one of a sad smile, as the justiciar seemed lost in memories of the past.
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Post by Lady Kamille Verlithax on Dec 17, 2023 4:52:20 GMT -5
People rarely came to Moonglade nowadays without knowing her name - and to think that, at Court, she was a shadow, just another pair of hands that worked behind the curtains, with no glories to her name. She often wondered if she was better this way or that. The spotlight still scared her sometimes. The Witch raised a hand as Sylvari bowed; a hand, she could notice, that had black claws attached to her gloves.
"There's no need for that, Miss Sylvari. You must know how the people like to make the tales sound bigger than they are. I'm no different than yourself: I'm just doing my job."
Although they might have different interpretations of what their job was, and while the Witch didn't consider herself to get hindered by notions of honor and the good old fashioned justice, she hoped they could co-exist. Judging by the way the justiciar was trying to sneak on to Kalaf, she had a suspicion of her intentions.
The woman seemed to have fond memories of her home, which was not so far, and Kamille couldn't help but empathise. The life on the road was an exciting one, yet once in a while the heart always yearns for the place where you grew your roots.
"The Crescent Isles is a beautiful place - the Frost Gale, however... Sadly, the tundra didn't agree with me. But I can understand people's love for the cold. If you ever find yourself in the mood of stabilishing home either at Moonglade or the Crescent Isles, I can facilitate that. The pilgrim journey is an interesting one, but I'm also of the opinion that even migrating birds need a nest sometimes."
The veiled insinuation being that she'd like to be aware of what happened at Moonglade wouldn't go over Sylvari's head - though it did seem to come from a place of care.
"And don't feel compelled to deny your worth for that. Even monsters have a place in the world and deserve some love."
At the mention of monsters, Kamille lightly patted at the drake's muzzle, which made the giant beast take a deep breath. A soft, rumbling sound of appreciation seemed emanate from the drake's throat, slow blinking at the woman.
"Would you care for a drink, Miss Sylvari? I know a good tavern close by - sounds like the appropriate place for good stories."
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Post by Sylvari Dawnsage on Dec 18, 2023 11:35:19 GMT -5
Sylvari heard the notes of caution lacing the Witch's tone in her offer to help with placing her home. The justiciar smiled despite herself. From an outside perspective it was quite odd to be happy at veiled suspicion, but her justification was twofold.
Firstly, Sylvari's greatest failing on her travels had repeatedly shown itself to be her novice socializing skills. Her tribe never put great importance on the niceties of conversation: to be honest and kind was enough for life among the People. Since leaving her simple, idyllic life, however, Sylvari found this to be the extreme exception. People of Charon always seemed to speak with six meanings behind their words, a source of no end of annoyance and blunder for the young knight. Her catching at least a second meaning in another's words, and one so esteemed as the Witch of Moonglade, gave Sylvari a sense of pride that her work on the subject had borne fruit.
Secondly, the Witch was hardly wrong in her assessment of the tales about her life and exploits. She had heard of them even during her time with her people, and her travels had certainly only expanded upon this base of knowledge. In truth, Kamille was one of Sylvari's inspirations, albeit a guilty one, given her father's disapproval of any self-proclaimed magicians. She had been disappointed with her juvenile expectations about the world countless times before, so to see a display of the Witch's cunning and courtesy firsthand was a small justification of her youthful fantasies.
Sylvari also noted carefully Kamille's next words, keenly aware of her implied connection to monsters. When the Witch followed her offer with an invitation to a nearby tavern, the justiciar was forced to believe that her new companion had figured her out already, even for their brief interaction. In some small sense, she was happy, for this was yet more evidence of how capable her hero was, but Sylvari also felt a shiver run down her spine. Powerful people often took withheld information as offense, and she was afraid she had angered the Witch.
Slowly, and with a placating smile, Sylvari removed her half veil to reveal her pure crimson eyes, which twinkled in the filtered sunlight. "Truly your cunning and acuity are frighteningly formidable, Lady Kamille. I apologize. It was not my intention to insult your intelligence by hiding my true nature. Concealing my curse has simply become my habit in my travels. Common folk are not so versed in my condition to know that I will not attack them on sight. The veil allows me to go about my business and help them without drawing their ire. Please forgive me."
Sylvari bowed her head low again, not daring to look up until she heard words of reconciliation.
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Post by Lady Kamille Verlithax on Dec 29, 2023 15:31:29 GMT -5
Fishing for information like that was never her fortee, as she often leaned into the spells that could achieve that. However, every now and then, some fishing wielded her more than she expected.
A raise of the eyebrow would tell Sylvari there was a hint of surprise in the discovery, although her upbringing in Court would play its part on her reaction: she tried to not look so surprised as to not hurt Sylvari's feelings.
Truth be told, those scarlet eyes brought her memories.
Bittersweet moments spent at the Villa of Lost Souls, at the company of ruby eyes as bloodthirsty as those. Those were good, sweet memories, turned bitter by the prospect of remaining only in the past, never to be a part of her future ever again.
It was no surprise the Witch had a weak spot for monsters if she promptly became the paramour of a vampire not long ago.
And those eyes of pure crimson before her bore a striking semblance to those of her Lord of Ghouls...
"You don't owe me an explanation, Miss Sylvari, but I understand your plight, if you will believe me. I know how fearful and hesitant the common folk can be regarding those they don’t understand."
The Witch was known for being particularly slow to anger, and that rumor proved time and time again to be true. Whether someone else would feel slighted at Sylvari's revelation, Kamille looked only somewhat surprised.
"If you’re afraid of how the townspeople will react to you, you have nothing to worry about if you're with me. I believe they have already come to understand I keep the most unorthodox kinds of company... So stand up, Justiciar. You have nothing to fear of the people of Moonglade right now."
If there was a place where her reputation granted her a free pass for nearly anything, it would be there, at the Moonveil village. Which was more than she could say about the drake before them. With his huge head resting on the earth, his eyes slowly shifted to one after the other as they spoke. Despite having a respectful relationship, it was evident the Beast was not subjugated to the will of the Witch, and had a mind of his own to make his judgements as he saw fit.
And on the scorching eyes of the old one, a fair amount of caution shone through.
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Post by Sylvari Dawnsage on Dec 29, 2023 17:27:57 GMT -5
Sylvari could only manage a child-like smile as she raised her head, regarding Kamille with her crimson orbs again, glad to have not offended the Witch.
"I thank you for your abounding grace, Lady Kamille. Yours is a kinder and blessedly more measured reception of my condition than nearly any I have confided in in the past. While my curse makes partaking in mortal food and drink, rather difficult, I would be most pleased to accompany you for continued conversation, if nothing else."
Sylvari face contorted to one of unhidden surprise at the Witch's offer of accompanying her unveiled. It was a strange feeling. While the vampiress had certainly grown used to her veil in the four years she had been wearing it, it was only when she was offered a time without it that Sylvari realized how enticing the prospect sounded. She had become very much like a bird in a cage, unable to see her prison for its gilded bars until such time as someone opened the door.
Still, she didn't want any negative blowback to fall on Kamille for association. She was more than certain the Witch could handle herself, particularly if only peasants saw them together, but her mission had impressed upon the justiciar the virtue of leaving nothing to chance.
"If you're quite sure, Lady Kamille. I'm certain you're more than capable of maintaining your public image, but I wouldn't want your good name besmirched by association with a wretched creature such as me."
Sylvari's words were halting and muted, but full of sincerity. It was plainly clear to see the girl regarded herself as a monster to be tolerated at best.
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Post by Lady Kamille Verlithax on Dec 29, 2023 19:37:32 GMT -5
"If it eases your mind, I have lived with a Lord Necromancer for a few months, not long ago. One of my most trusted friends here at Moonglade is a werewolf. If anything, I have a reputation of making myself available to anyone that would seek help. And I'd like to keep it that way."
Kamille could only imagine what kind of blunder the other woman must have suffered at the hands and eyes of others. Her Lord of Ghouls had a naturally charismatic and dramatic personality that made him navigate the higher circles of society rather easily, despite everything else.
It was still hard to think of him... But she put on a polite smile for the newcomer and gestured for them to take the trail back to the village. Whether or not she wanted to go, it would be up to Sylvari - and the Witch would not force her to keep her company.
A soft flutter of wings indicated the raven went to land on her shoulder, bouncing up and down.
"CAAAAW! Friend?"
"Yes, Mischief. That’s a friend. You don't steal from friends, remember?"
"CAAAAW! SHINNY!"
"This is Mischief, Miss Sylvari. Don’t ever allow him to get too comfortable around you."
At first, Kamille wasn’t certain if Sylvari's hesitation on following with her was because she didn't want to, or something else. Her last words made her pause once again.
What horrors have you suffered at the hands of others to think so lowly of yourself?
For someone who truly had a soft spot for what others would call "monsters", that situation was far from being rare. Reminded her of Beist, the gentle giant that had helped her in many occasions - an excedingly skilled healer and alchemist who seemed extremely conscious of how he looked.
All monsters are deserving of love.
"You said you were recently in Frost Gale, right? Do you like the cold? I have found the scorching sands of Zeinav to agree with me more than the tundra... Although I would love for more opportunities to wear furs..."
It almost felt as she was talking to herself, as she walked down the path she indicated, clearly waiting for Sylvari to follow along.
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Post by Sylvari Dawnsage on Dec 29, 2023 19:58:22 GMT -5
As Kamille began to walk down the appointed path, the tacit invitation was clear: the Witch desired her company, but would not force it upon her. Such consideration made Sylvari's heart swell with appreciation as she meekly took up step a few paces behind Kamille.
Noe jumped into Sylvari's crossed arms as she walked, his animated bones softly clattering against her breastplate at the motion of her walking. She cocked her head slightly as Kamille spoke, noting the traces of somberness in her tone as she spoke about her associates. Missing them? Regret? Clearly an unhealed wound of some sort. I guess even great heroes have their share of tragedy.
The Witch's proper introduction to her raven familiar brought a smile to Sylvari's face. It seemed pets were a mainstay from the lowest serf to the highest king. "Pleased to meet you Mischief. For your mistress' sake, I'll keep an eye on you to see that you don't live up to your name." She smiled and chuckled softly at her little joke, enjoying the reflective quality of the glossy black feathers from the filtered sunlight. The little dragonling in her arms clacked at the raven in his own version of greeting, feeling his mistress' fondness over their empathic link.
Sylvari suddenly realized Kamille had asked her a question and took a few seconds before responding to work out what was asked. Once she had, Sylvari gave a little sigh as she answered. "I can't say I care much one way or the other when it comes to climate, Lady Kamille. My condition, or my study of the dark arts, or some combination thereof, has rendered me largely immune to the ravages of the environment. My only reason to visit Frost Gale other than for the callings of my mission is for my... friend."
Speaking of Videl caused all of the jumbled emotions about him to rise to the surface of her consciousness as it usually did. In truth, she did not know what they were. She knew what he wanted to be, even if such a thing was impossible. A guilty pleasure of these little training voyages was the time she had in solitude and not have to deal with the complicated feelings that time with him entailed.
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Post by Lady Kamille Verlithax on Dec 30, 2023 7:44:28 GMT -5
...friend.
The Witch slowly turned to face Sylvari, a knowing smile gently curving her lips and wrinkling the corners of her eyes. Oh, if there was something Kamille could sniff from a mile away, that would be drama. Of course, it was too early to ask for the chisme, but she definitely put a pin on that for later.
"Shinny! CAW!"
"I admire people with your resolve and mission, Miss Sylvari. Maybe it will take someone like you to change the bad reputation of wielders of the dark arts. I'm afraid you haven’t introduced me to that friend of yours. What is their name?"
If there was something she recognized on spot it was necromantic magic. It wasn't something she studied in depth, but living with her vampire lord have taught her a thing or two on the matter. If nothing else, at least not to be fearful of the manifestations of necromancy.
It didn’t take long for their walk to be interrupted, as they made a turn on the trail and were able to spot a few yards ahead another person. While the Witch looked slightly surprised by the presence of the man, she didn’t look alarmed, going as far as smiling at him in recognition. A quick glance would tell of their association: the man was equally dressed all in black, even if his clothing was much more practical and functional. Bow and quiver on his back, there was a single pin of a black feather on his chest, as well as an actual black feather braided into his short, spiky hair next to his left ear. Both symbols Kamille also wore in similar ways.
He was a half-elf too, with a charming smile that looked a bit muted for some reason.
"Good morning, Mother Raven. I'm sorry for putting a damper on your plans for the day, but I would strongly suggest the ladies to avoid Gerard's tavern for the day."
"Miss Sylvari, this is my associate, Allan. Why would you say that, Allan?"
"We got visitors today. A few mates from the Dial Fractum are stopping by."
Kamille sighed. What a day for her words to immediately come and bite her in the ass...
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Fighter's Guild
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Renown
Crescent Isles
"I only bite if you want me to, dear"
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Post by Sylvari Dawnsage on Dec 30, 2023 17:42:27 GMT -5
Sylvari smiled fondly at the little undead in her arms as the Witch's conversation directed attention to him.
"Oh, of course, I beg pardon for my poor manners. This is Noe. Noe, Lady Kamille." In a slightly more muted tone, though still clearly audible, the vampiress continued, addressing her small servant, "Remember what I've said about boundaries, Noe."
The little dragon was immediately excited by the introduction, leaping out of his mistress' arms to bound over to Kamille. At his lady's gentle chiding, the little skeletal dragon stopped, a few paces from the witch, and pressed his tiny skull to the ground, clacking forlornly. His overly excitable tail swayed from side to side quickly, moving his whole hindquarters alongside it. A good-natured groan escaped Sylvari's lips.
"He's friendly and mostly well-behaved, but he gets overly enthusiastic about meeting new people: not a great habit, considering the undead's reputation amongst most folks." Thinking himself clever and covert, Noe inched along the ground until he was perpendicular to Kamille's leg and brushed against it with the bony crest of his nose, expressing affection for someone friendly with his mistress.
Sylvari forthcoming chastisement about her companion's forwardness was interrupted by the emergence of a darkly clad man, clearly an associate of the Witch's. It was clear from his warning and Kamille's subsequent reaction that the mentioned group was trouble, likely of the criminal sort. The justiciar stepped forward, a bit more boldly than she had been to this point.
"I beg your pardon, Lady Kamille, but if this group of miscreants is troubling your domain, I would be most pleased to stand beside you in quelling them. I leave the particulars of their punishment to you, but my oath dictates that those that hamper the common good must be dealt with."
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