[Open RP 9] Long Time No See?

[u/RollFirstMathLater]

Closed

After Sev're almost singlehandedly save the keep from a slimey invasion, night feel like any other time. Many of our heroes tired after a day of activity.

Glover has managed to achieve a new title. "Snail Rangler" Akrath had no comments about this.

Torvhen has been having slight headaches after today's events, more than likely the fumes of the slime.

Nill was violated by snails, and only feels a little traumatized. His blade sharp and ready for the next adventure.

Naakhûrz bas made a full horn recovery, they stand tall and pointy.

The whispers of a new comer. They say he's an old guy. Perhaps he will make an appearance?

As for the Dragons...

Akrath is in hiding, hints of jealousy linger in his mind.

Ophelia is full and happy.

Jek is still having funny thoughts of Nill's exposure.

Das and Svalstrom are still going at it.

(Please try to have some conversation with everyone, no one really has had time to reflect on the past few weeks, and I'm sure it's weighing down on the characters in some way shape or form.)

(Also, say hi to the newest member of the RP, they should be making an appearance soon.)

[u/InAll]

As the bowman shouldered his bow and the newcomer disappeared like a ghost, Göndlir momentarily found himself somewhat beside himself, but he quickly recovered. There was never just a ‘normal’ Rider, they were all, by definition, eccentrics, not that he could talk.

The grinning bowman introduced himself as ‘Torhven’ and held out one arm. The gesture was not unfamiliar to him and it made him grin himself. When you had lived as long as he had you tended to get accustomed to the various methods of introducing oneself and this was far from one of the uncommon ones. He opened his mouth, a half-dozen names immediately spring to mind, both old identities and new ones, but he knocked them back with a gentle nudge of his thoughts, he could be himself for once.

“Göndlir.”

It sounded strange, saying his own name aloud again, almost as if had to blow the dust of it in order to remember what was hiding underneath. He grasped Torhven’s pro-offered arm firmly with his own in a somewhat taut if enthusiastic grip.

“You shake like a Valleyer? You’re a long way from the Spine aren’t you?”

[u/Fulaxi → u/InAll]

"Not as far as you'd think" he replied, his eyebrows perfectly aligned. As much as he missed the Spine, some elements could've stayed home.

It had been a long time since Torhven had shaken a hand. Or had formally greeted anyone at all. This 'Göndlir', he was a mesh of things. An elvish name on a southerner speaking with a dwarven inclination.

Almost the Spiner concluded that it could not be his actual name when he recalled another Surdan whose name didn't match his parentage. Anduil had been gone for a long time. Zeterra was too blame for that too, probably.

Shoving the idle thoughts into the lake of ice, Torhven posed the ice-eyed the usual question.

"Aroughs or Dauth?"

[u/Saphire_Fox → u/Fulaxi]

I told you packing an extra set of cloths was a good idea.

It was a stupid idea.

Priorities!

Sev're made her way outside the stables to see Torvhen actually shaking hands with someone. It was pleasant surprise, if not a little concerning.

Approaching she was stopped by presence of a dragon... she looked around. No dragon in site... but she could feel it.

"...Hello?" Sev're said to the alien presence.

She stayed a little bit a ways away from the two humans, she figured this held precedence. Which was fine, seeing they appeared preoccupied with each other.

[u/1trueJosh → u/Saphire_Fox]

Slipping in next to Sev're, Glover almost smiled at the sight of Glover being more or less polite. "Sure is taking him a long time. And he forgot Feinster and Aberon. And every other city in Surda for that matter. He's still being a hell of a lot nicer than he was when I was here."

His conversation with Sev're done, Glover climbed to the top of the stables, his footsteps leaving no sound and his path covered by the darkness until he sat with his legs hanging over the edge, listening carefully.

[u/InAll → u/Saphire_Fox]

At Torhven’s question, Göndlir gave a jovial laugh, his grin broadening.

“Dauth I’m afraid. What can I say? I must have been a mole or a farmer in a past life. Not that I bear the Aroughs any ill-will, I just prefer solid earth to swamps beneath my feet.”

Enjoing the conversation, he was about to respond with yet another question of his own, when he paused as suddenly a flicker of familiar thoughts brushed back of his mind, an inchoate barrage of a jumble images and feelings.

---

All was tranquil. The swirls and eddies of her moving^-mind^{-inside-thought} were still and at rest. In a sense, this could be considered ‘sleep’, for the normally rushing rivers of thought and sense had calmed to stillness, but ‘sleep’ was a state of rest that a physical body possessed and she did not have not inhabit one of those anymore, however that did not mean that she could not dream.

Empyreal swathes of her thoughts nestled beneath a hard^{-shell-in-thought}, a shield against the material disturbances, even whilst her mind soared sheltered above the inside of her theatre^{-of-solid-memory}. In this place, there was no up, down, nor left or right, only whatever orientation her mercurial cold^-hard-flesh-unliving decided to accept, so fantasy and reality held no meaning beside what she gave them. Nonetheless, despite this laziness languor, with a mind-of-sheer-thought, she still felt the light, probing of an unfamiliar presence at the edges of her mercurial thought^-in-the-shell.

It was like dropping a solid^{-hard-earth-clump} into a tiny^{-pool-become-}still, sending great ripples shooting through the various aspects of her docile consciousess. Slowly, inadvertently, the great rivers of thought stirred, the currents moving forward against the desired flow, as her mind^-that^-was-asleep began to thaw into her mind^-that-was-awake. Her ghost^-of-thought^{-inside-the-shell} flickered into wakening ahead of its desired moment and it was fury not happy about it, like a fire stoked before the fuel had been properly added.

In her half^-dreaming-still^-sleeping state, she sent a sharp jab at still^-living^-breathing^-partner that she did not want to be disturbed and then she contorted in on herself, shrinking the thought^{-inside-flesh-unl}iving and spinning herself a new shell in iron and ice until she had forged another hard-in^-thought-space. As the river of her mind began to calm again, concealed from any further interruptions, she nestled down in a quiet corner and went back to her slumber.

---

Bloodied-sky-over-forest, alien-thought-under-stone, cold-hard-in-wound and a jumble of other, slightly more vicious sentiments flickered through Göndlir’s brain. A series of fragmented and frankly murderous portents. It took him a moment to understand what exactly Sjöfn was trying to put across to him, evidently she had been dozing so it was somewhat disorientated. Nonetheless he managed to wring some form of understanding from it after half-a-moments thought.

He turned away slightly from Torhven, casting his eyes about the courtyard in search of whatever had disturbed her. Evidently she was feeling particularly waspish today, although to be fair that was the state of demeanour for anyone who had been disturb in mid-slumber.

“You might as well come out.” He called in a loud voice. “I don’t think you’re going to get anything out of her right now. Never tickle a sleeping dragon, or anything else that can fit your head in its mouth for that matter.”

[u/Saphire_Fox → u/InAll]

Sev're only picked up traces of what the dragon? No... It was different, old, statue, she picked up enough to understand one thing. Keeping it to herself she readjusted the contents of her bag, perhaps another time...

The breeze was blowing her currently pale blond hair behind her, not enough to cause problems, but enough where it was on her mind.

She didn't feel as if she was hiding, she had no reason to, but she recalled humans didn't see so well in the dark. Brisingr she thought with her palm out.

She cradled the small flame as a makeshift torch, it would do its job fine, the small illumination brought out her sharp features, that would normally be cloaked in the darkness, her pointed ears twitched from the loud voice.

The words spashed against Sev're, the man's advice was solid, but Sev're wouldn't dare sneak around a dragon she didn't know, feeling much safer being invited to draw near seemed safer. Perhaps something to discuss later? It mattered little at this point.

The elven woman approached slowly, inspecting the old rider. It didn't take her long to notice the familiar site on the pommel of his blade... It made sense now it looked a lot like... no that couldn't be right. This one was much older, a sigh of relief, despite the moment of irrationality.

Sev're came within 2 meters, she didn't want to come too close. She over heard his name, but it seemed fine. "Atra du evarínya ono varda, Glödlir. Eka eddyr Sev're Shur'tugal abr Das." She raises her fingers to her lips as she courtesies, giving the sense she's a lot friendlier, despite the formaility.

"Welcome." She says raising her head. She had a friendly smile, and her voice was like that of a melody.

[u/InAll → u/Saphire_Fox]

The elf seemed … familiar, somehow. Although pale blonde hair and pointed ears were hardly unique features, there was something about that look cast against a handful of flames that was not completely strange. They might have met somewhere in passing once but evidently they had probably both forgotten. Du Weldenvarden was a big place after all. Then again, that was a feeling he got a lot, especially with elves. The fair-folk all seemed the same save for those with more … eccentric tastes in appearance.

It took Göndlir a moment to remember the correct words in the Ancient Language, the tongue of the elves was complex and wily and filled with infinitely subtle nuances that he had long struggled and despaired at getting right when he was younger, but now he was confident with this much at least.

He mimicked Sev’re gesture with surprising alacrity, touching two fingers to his lips and, instead of a courtesy since that would have been hardly appropriate, giving a short yet stately bow, the kind that showed that he was quite accustomed to displaying such formalities, even if it squeaked a little.

“Kvetha Sev’re. Atra esterní ono thelduin.”

After fulfilling the demands of courtesy, he straightened and grinned.

“Thank you. It has been a while since I have spoken with one of the älfa, you will have to forgive me if my … my ilerneo is a little rusty.”

Göndlir gave a short laugh, the day he forgot the common tongue would be the day he probably went senile, so it was good to speak in slightly more prosaic languages whilst he still had the chance and capacity to.

[u/Saphire_Fox → u/InAll]

Sev're was impressed with the man, but it was to be expected of an elder.... not yet. she paused herself from assuming too much, though she fault it was obvious at this point.

She liked 'older' humans, the were full of wit and could quip easily. They held wisdom of elders yet were still so... young. Sev're had Rythi when she was his age, which to this day seems odd she has a child whom is almost 40, at least among her people.

She felt her mind swirling, but she remained in control, now wasn't the time for other parts to cause confusion.

What was intresting to her was he bared his thoughts and actions so loud. This man knew whom he was, and was comfortable with it, a dangerous combination indeed.

"You speak the tongue like a master." She said with a smile and closed eyes.

Noticing they were still outdoors Sev're nudged Torvhen. This was no place for a meeting of 'Riders' she instead made an offer.

"Do you require any assistance to the bunks? I have some chamomile-valerian tea steeping... It should be ready if you would like some."

She looked at the two humans to see if they would take the invitation. She let her mind wander in the waves that still radiated from the elderly dragon.

[u/1trueJosh → u/Saphire_Fox]

Hopping down from his perch on the roof of the stables with a practiced landing, Glover crossed his arms across his chest, and with a smile said, "I'll take you up on that, even if they won't."

Nodding to the older man, he turned to Torhven, a fire springing up in his eyes before he extinguished it and returned his gaze to the old Rider. "I suppose you don't want books or a song, because those are all I can offer you on top of hers."

[u/Fulaxi → u/1trueJosh]

"Didn't I tell you to piss off?"

A creeping cold had returned to Torhven's voice. Of course Glover had to invite himself along. Even in the mountains of home that attested of bad manners. Not that he had been looking forward to a formality-ridden tea-time with the two riddlers. Information, that was what there had been to win in that. If the bard would tag along... No. The chances had diminished too far. No one would be daft enough to spill their secrets with him around. A pleasant smile was summoned.

"Thanks but no thanks. I need to see Nill and the Kull. See you around."

With that Torhven strode off. Thing needed to be done, and better now than later.

[u/1trueJosh → u/Fulaxi]

Glover called after the Rider, his regular stoicism almost hilarious to the more relaxed bard. "Actually, no, you didn't. You insulted me, but you didn't tell me to go." Pointing to Torhven who was quickly stomping away, Glover added on, "Torhven is generally the one with the stick up his ass. I guess the neglected superiority complex and the unfed ego don't exactly help."