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| Visiting a Druid (P: Volare & Hearne) | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Sat Sep 5, 2015 6:09 pm (451 Views) | |
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Sat Sep 5, 2015 6:09 pm Post #1 |
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The night of the full moon had been over a day ago now. It had been an ordeal, but now they were headed for a druid glade that an elven elder had recommended. She had said it might be a good place that would help Volare with her connection to magic. They were now approaching the location. The surrounding plants and such were certainly more vibrant and colorful. Th Clearly the power of nature flowed strong along here. Or maybe they had just gotten a lot of water from the strom a few days ago. Shirine did not know the magic terms for it, but it was something close to small leyline or nexus point for nature magics. Not a strong one, but enough to make it a special place. They emerged into a small clearing with a pond maybe twenty feet across. Several animals seemed to be there getting a drink. Entering a few birds flew into the tree. She wondered if they somehow knew she was a feline... hmm Volare was also a feline now she supposed. Still it would take a bit for her to get full control over her powers. Shirine was in her elven form for the moment. She wore a simple set of brown pants and a beige blouse. She wore decent brown boots too. They were all in elven style as Shirine had just forced the outfit to copy a common design in the village. She had her pack of supplies on her back that looked a bit heavy for her, but in reality wasn't any problem. Her three swords were sheathed and she had not intention of drawing them. Shirine lowered her pack to the ground as she leaned up against a tree. She then spoke to Volare with a warm smile. It was more than just a friendly smile. Shirine was still trying to get used to these feelings, but the smile had formed without her noticing. "Well this looks like the place. I suppose we just for the druid to show up. Or I suppose you can call out to him... though I wouldn't mind just spending some quite time with you in this place. It is a lovely spot..." The second part was actually pretty quite and had been a slip of the tongue, but it was loud enough for Volare to hear. Shirine let out a squeek as her cheeks flushed realizing what she had just said. She only hopped no one with sharp ears was close by. That would be too embarrassing. |
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| Volare | Sat Sep 5, 2015 7:40 pm Post #2 |
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It had been a while since the transformation, yet she was still reeling from it to some extent. It had been such a complete loss of control, and yet…the power that she had felt…there had been nothing like it. The only way she could adequately describe it was that it was like being torn apart from the inside-out, only the pain was exciting her. Her senses had been overwhelmed, and the lasting effects weren’t exactly pleasant. She had better eyes and ears and a better nose than most, perhaps on par with those same senses that an elf possessed, but what she had experienced in the Fairy Ring that night had been completely overwhelming. She had been in tune with everything, able to sense the whole of her surroundings, and the flood of information had given her a migraine. She’d still had a headache this morning, although an elven remedy had numbed it. Even now, her muscles were just a little sore. She had known that the transformation would be all-consuming but the extent to which it had covered her and filled her…she’d felt every bit like a primal huntress, and she probably would have attacked Shirine had she not “felt” the feline connection with her. That, too, was something she could not precisely describe in words. Her throat was parched, too, and she had drunk more water than she usually did today - a lot more. Her thoughts had not been far off when she’d pondered just how fundamental the changing of her body would be. Even now, she could hear birds in the distance that she knew weren’t supposed to be that loud and see details from afar that would have been completely missed were they to be found immediately before her face. The next full moon was a month away. While she wasn’t looking forward to it, the span of time would (hopefully) allow her to master her newly heightened senses. She could actually smell the dew that had almost evaporated by now and the sweet, almost tangy scent of her companion. Speaking of that…she watched as the pack was dropped to the ground. Now in her elven form, Shirine was more beautiful than ever. To be honest, a part of her wasn’t really comfortable with Shirine’s feline form. It wasn’t that it wasn’t beautiful; animalistically speaking, it was gorgeous. But her feelings toward Shirine were much more natural and she was much more comfortable with them now that Shirine was in pure elven form once more. She eyed the curves of the woman near her, watched the subtle shifting of her clothing as she walked, observed the way her hair fell…and with her heightened senses, which she still needed a lot of adjustment to, the details seemed that much more vibrant. Shirine was right about the place being beautiful, though recalling the night of the full moon meant that her mind just couldn’t be stilled. She kept going back to the reason for the transformation - and the reason that she was here. This druid…it was a man, she’d been told, whom nature had engulfed completely. He was more a part of nature than a guardian of it, and he had dealings with the Ivyn - but not in a sinister way. From what Volare understood, this druid - she had not been given a name - cultivated the Ivyn out of curiosity as well as a love for nature, and he had no intention of attempting what the druids of Calmonah had. If that was the case, this would have been an entirely different sort of visit. She was noticing now that there was something else that had changed about her, something that had prompted her to bare her feet all morning: she was just as uncomfortable wearing anything upon them as she had been in Gwyllion. Perhaps a primal part of her had returned with the transformation. She certainly seemed to feel more alive than she had been since the severance of her wings. The wounds upon her back had healed now, leaving behind only deep scars that she knew would never completely disappear. They were the one major blemish upon her, and thankfully a blemish that she could usually conceal. It wasn’t that she was vain enough to desire deific beauty and nothing less; it was simply a shameful and emotionally excruciating reminder of the events that had led to her emigration. Her feet felt everything now but not in a painful way. It was as though she was once more connected to nature, although perhaps not quite in the same manner as before. The slender but sturdy things felt stronger, more alive - just like the rest of her body - as they traversed the sparse undergrowth of the forest. The grass here was lush and wild, and so were the flowers and the bushes; even the trees seemed to stand apart from nature as a whole. The sea-green breeches she wore had a metallic sheen to them, easily reflecting the sunlight filtering down through the treetops; they were comfortably snug in just the right places but loose enough where need be for her to execute even the most impressive acrobatic maneuvers - something often vital to surviving even a minor battle. The wrap-shirt she wore was of the same hue and had the same sheen as her breeches. The glowing white stars and green-tinged blade of Ivyn’s Ire were exposed at her right hip, where the sword was tightly secured with a silver sash whose knot-tails hung loose on the other hip. Volare had learned from the elves that her hood was called an Infiltrator’s Cowl; it was now wrapped about her like a scarf, the tails hanging loose before her. Thus exposed was her own beautiful red hair, shining like fire even in the tree-filtered light, which was today bound into a much simpler style than she had previously worn; three thick braids had been twisted into a single, super-thick braid that had been bound near the bottom (which hung to about the middle of her back now) with a bright-pink ribbon. She wasn’t fond of the ribbon’s colour but it was what had been available at the time. Volare closed her storm-gray eyes for a moment, focusing on each of her senses individually as she had been instructed to do. The forest was more alive to her now than it ever had been before, and that was saying something. But compared to what she had experienced recently, this was indeed a certain kind of “quiet”. It was…peaceful. She said as much to Shirine as she opened her eyes again, releasing in the process the deep breath that she had just taken. Looking at the woman once more, she had come to accept that once again, she had found someone to be intimate with. Contrary to what most Imythessians seemed to think, however, intimacy wasn’t about a physical connection. It was emotional and metal…much deeper than anything a physical bond could match. She walked over to her slowly, admiring her form. To touch her seemed almost natural to Volare; perhaps it was the knowledge that this was not Gwyllion, nor was Shirine a Gwyllion elf, that subconsciously made her hesitate. Whatever it was, she didn’t hesitate for long. “I am glad for the peace,” she admitted as she gently brushed a lock of Shirine’s hair behind her well-formed elven ear, ”and the company.” What was unspoken, of course, was what she wanted to happen. She wanted to give in to her feelings as she would have done in Gwyllion, to embrace this woman and share with her the physical bond that would have been a pure expression of the mental and emotional bond she had already formed. But something held her back. Perhaps it was the fact that they were supposed to be looking for the druid; she certainly didn’t want him to stumble upon that. Even in Gwyllion, such an experience was held in private and respectfully avoided by others until it was done. Just because such bonding happened all the time, freely and without burden, didn’t mean that it was something people did in public. |
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| Hearne | Mon Sep 7, 2015 8:08 pm Post #3 |
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Hearne's hand slammed down against the face of the boulder, wood thunking against stone solidly and pinned in place. The limb writhed out from under his opponent. Reaching across the stone, he slapped the other with an open fleshy right palm. “Cheat one more time and I'm turnin yer hide to a kilt!” The druid bellowed, bone beads rattling in his knotted beard. The large brown bear hunched across from him bellowed back, spraying spittle in equal measure and slapping the boulder angrily. “Bet yer musty pelt I know what 'm doing. Learned it from those drunks in Aelcrest. Again.” He set his left elbow on the stone and braced it, hand up. The bear reared once, shaking and grumbling as it mimicked his pose. “One, two, thr--Damn ye!” Hearne bared rune-etched teeth as he struggled against the bear, their clasped palm and paw swaying back and forth, druid slowly losing ground. Digging his toes into the earth, Hearne drew strength stored from the earth forth and gave a great heave, reversing the flow of battle and pinning the bear's paw hard. He cackled and the bear bellowed at him, gripping the boulder and heaving it aside. It charged Hearne head-on. The druid grinned wider, snarling old words and tensing as vines erupted from his skin and spread, smoothing into a second skin of dark wood. He held his ground against the tackle, wrapping his arms around the great shaggy beast and turned, throwing the bear down and wrapping his legs around it's middle, jamming a forearm against it's throat. “Give up?” wooden lips split into a smile. The great beast rumbled and he rolled off, beginning to pull more power from the earth below to refill his wells. The bear made a dismissive gesture and lumbered off to the base of the tree, where he fell on his side, nearly crushing the small robed figure dozing there. The creature shot out from under the impending arse and swelled to his full three-and-a-half feet, telling off the creature with sounds of wood creaking and limbs brushing, waggling a single spindly finger. Narrowly avoiding a swipe from a great paw, he retreated to the wooden man's side. Hearne stood stock-still, staring out at his walls, focused on something he couldn't see in the distance. The breeze carried whispers from the forest around him, whispers of strangers in his territory. The trees spoke of two elf-kin traveling together, though they could not tell him their words or give directions. A great groan escaped the split in his wooden lips, echoing over the forest. After a moment, the whispers came again from one direction in particular. Satisfied, Hearne turned copper eyes deepening to amber on his assistant, who held out a second brown linen robe. He accepted the cloth, tying it off and shrugging off the top half to bare his chest. The ironwood skin broke up in a crackle, shrinking back into woody vines that retreated into his skin, the scarred whorls and runes writhing as something moved beneath them toward the dark, oily seed in his breast. Picking stray vines from his beard, the druid turned to face the tree in the middle of the glade, reaching out and reciting the snarling, rough invocation. The roots of the tree hunched and rose to reveal the mouth of a tunnel. Steps of wood writhed to the surface, guiding the way down. As he descended the steps, he waved back at the assistant. The little creature seemed to expand angrily, chittering and creaking as it tottered off across the clearing Druidic and tied to Hearne as the little robed figure was, it lacked greatly in grace. Branches kept catching in it's face, catching twigs on it's robe. It took it not twenty minutes to find the intruders, making a hell of a noise. It's irritation was evident in it's snatching at offending shrubs and batting aside branches with twiggy fingers. The little robed man burst into the space the elves resided in. Standing a little above their waists, covered for the most part by a plain brown robe. The sleeves of the robe came only to it's elbows, revealing thin limbs of a dark, oily wood and four-fingered hands with long, spidery fingers for delicate work. The hood was drawn up, wreathing it's face in shadow. All features were indistinguishable but for it's eyes, glowing orange orbs. It studied the two women for a moment, tilting it's head to sniff the air before giving a noise like shivering leaves, shoulders shaking. The little man bowed, clasping it's hands behind it's back. When it rose again, it touched a finger somewhere in the depths of it's hood. “Been a while since I've had visitors. People tend to know better. I will answer any question when you arrive, this one cannot speak. Learned that lesson the hard way. Please follow him back. My oath no harm will come to you by my hand, or his.” The voice was Hearne's, sounding from the assistant without any movement on his part. “Mind the bear.” With that, the little robed figure lowered it's hand and turned, picking up a fallen branch to clear a path for itself. |
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Thu Sep 10, 2015 4:34 pm Post #4 |
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Shirine felt a little heat from Volare's touch. Her smile increasing as she inhaled the lovely fey's scent. If they were not expecting company she might have ven given in to some urges ro embrace and kiss the fey... then a sound came to her ears. Shirine blinked a little at the apperance of the strange little wooden creature. Well at least this certainly seemed druid like. Even the part about the bear did not worry her too much. Bears were fast and strong, but generally did not attack if not threatened. She fertainly hopped there would be no reason to threaten it.... Even then again she knew her sword draw could take down things like a bear in a blink of an eye. She was confident in her skills after all. Her basic instincts were actually in conflict with her instincts as a warrior. The warrior side said this coukd be nothing, but a trap. Her basic gut instinct said it was fine. This left it to her brain to decide and she shrugged as she moved to follow the strange thing. "Hmm.. well this is certainly diferent, but very druidy. So I guess we should follow it." She stayed close to Volare clearly being a little protective. Shirine knew Volare could handle herself, but a part of her want to defend Volare asmuch as she could. Another part of her wish the wooden creature had taken a few more minutes to show up.. |
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| Volare | Thu Oct 1, 2015 5:38 pm Post #5 |
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Shirine felt the same. She was absolutely certain of it. Their hearts beat as one, metaphorically speaking, and their eyes held a mutual understanding. She had been told that the druid might take hours to arrive or that they might have to spend the night in the woods; on the other hand, he might arrive immediately. Druids were a mysterious lot, or so the elf-maid had told Volare and Shirine. Personally, Volare was grateful for any time to be alone with Shirine. They didn’t say anything more to one another right away; they didn’t need to. Slowly, Volare drew closer. Their bodies were just barely at that distance from touching where the electricity between them could either pull them together or drive them apart; it was a natural struggle, one that Volare would have been happy to give into. Her lips parted slightly and she drew in a breath. But the moment was broken in an instant, shattered like a hammer flying through a window. Part of Volare was angry at that; part of her felt betrayed or perhaps desperate; and part of her was wondering if some new threat was about to show itself. She let out the breath in a huff and drew in another just as quickly as she whirled about. Her left hand started for the hilt of her sword but she forced herself to stop it. She had heard the crashing quite some distance away - much further than should have been possible. But now… Now, suddenly, her brow furrowed as she lowered her eyes to the strange little man before her. Shirine said something about it being “very druidy” after the man had spoken. She forced her arm to relax and schooled her features. She trusted Shirine, and so she would heed her advice. Shirine stayed very close indeed to Volare as they moved, Volare nodding politely to the little man as they followed him. She probably should have curtseyed. But given the moment that she and Shirine had almost shared and the suddenness with which it had been forcibly halted, she wasn’t really in the mood. She held a certain sort of longing for her that she had to swallow, so to speak. But if nothing else, she was very pleased by the proximity between her and Shirine. She casually brushed up against Shirine as they moved, softly and silently telling her how she felt. She knew Shirine would get the message. Her hand even brushed Shirine’s, though she didn’t reach out to hold it; if this was some sort of trap, she’d need her sword arm free. |
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| Hearne | Thu Oct 1, 2015 9:02 pm Post #6 |
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Hearne descended the root stairs into the tunnel beneath the tree. Soft earth gave way to a cobbled floor, scratched and pitted but otherwise fitting together beautifully. Small net bags held glowing stones overhead, slowly dimming as the tunnel went on. Reaching a hand out, Hearne gestured as if brushing aside a curtain and light washed over the tunnel. Stepping through the distorted curtain, he set foot on the solid wooden floor of a tavern, styled much like some lord's hunting lodge. The four pillars were the trunks of trees, antlers gracing much of the room's decorations. Tankards of polished and carved horn with iron bands hung along the back wall, behind a long, dark slab of stone. Moving behind the bar, Hearne fetched two mugs and a long, dark glass bottle. Popping the cork, he took a sniff. Juniper. The new batch, then. Pointing out sections of roof opened them to the outside, filling the room with a warm glow. His guests should be arriving right behind him, give or take a moment. You tended to lose a bit of time passing through the portal. ---- The short man led his two followers on through his roughly hewn path, occasionally eying the women up from beneath his hood and chittering to himself. The journey was mostly uneventful, pausing at each of the occasional marker stones to brush off the moss while he waited for the larger travelers to catch up. The stones stood near his own height, with lines of elven carved in roughly, as if with talons. They eminated foreboding, but their magic had long since fallen to a faint buzz. Do not enter, by decree of the roy-- The clearing was empty save for the tree, the boulder, and the bear sleeping on its side. The beast raised his head to study them for a moment, looking more bored than anything. Satisfied, it let its head fall back to the grass, closing his eyes to enjoy the warmth. From this angle it was just possible to see the ragged fur and vines in its fur, the edge of a wooden knot peeking out from its breast. Soft snores began rumbling from the mound of bear. Two massive birds sat in the branches of the tree, watching the newcomers with beady eyes. One screeched and swooped down at the robed man, snatching something small and squeaking from his spindly fingers. Chittering madly, the small figure tried to throw a rock in vain, falling embarassingly short of its mark. Rattling darkly from the depths of its hood, the assistant made what might have been a very rude gesture at the bird instead, had it had more fingers. Waving the women on, it carefully descended into the hole at the base of the tree, leading them on into the dark and through to the curtain of light like an open door in a dark room. “Come have a drink with me.” Hearne's voice carried without shouting, giving the impression it would be heard over a small hurricane. Possibly out of sheer force of will. The druid widened the portal into the tavern, allowing them to see each other through the tunnel. The bird from earlier had somehow made it before them, preening on a nearby shelf. “What did I say about pets?” Hearne leaned over the table, fixing the assistant with a firm gaze. It chittered back at him defiantly, going as far as to stamp a foot. “We don't have the room.” The little man pointed a twig finger at Volare, body shaking and rattling.”Not on your life. Go tend the gardens.” Stamping again, the little man resigned to his chores, disappearing into the back. “Here, have a seat.” Hearne smiled with his beast's eyes. Eyes that drew you in and challenged you to defy. Leader of the pack. “Been a while since I've had visitors. Been thinking about opening back up. Should be entertaining, at least. He tipped a generous amount into each and replaced the cork, pushing the mugs to two of the stools before the slab of stone. Hearne's height was the least extraordinary thing about him. He was dressed to fit the environment, a brown robe with cream-colored clothing beneath. His beard was well-enough groomed, tied into several knots neatly. His scarred woad and runic tattoos were less noticable tha usual, faint, lighter traceries of skin covering his visible upper chest and right forearm. His left was made of sinewy wood, held close to the shape of a normal hand and moving much like one. He pulled out a seat on his side of the bar and selected a polished stone mug, fishing another bottle from a nearby shelf. It was unlabeled, smelled briefly and explosively alcoholic when opened, and poured thicker than water or beer. Taking a small drink, the aging man cleared his throat and winced as his system began fighting the brew. “Advise against this one. Not entirely certain it's actually potable for most. This one"ll do you wonders.” he flicked the bottle of their own drink. “Smooth and sweet. Perk you lovely young ladies right up.” His nostrils flared a moment and his smile widened, eyes drifting from one to the other. “I hear you're looking for a druid.” He looked at them over the rim of his cup, frowning at Shirine and lowering the cup. “You. What are you?” |
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Fri Oct 2, 2015 1:21 am Post #7 |
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Shirine enjoyed the walk returning the light brush from Volare with a few of her own. So far nothing surpirsed her too much. Druids were always a little crazy or excentric. This one seemed to have a bear she noted. They entered the home of the druid. His iffer to sit was seemingly kind, but her beast side rebelled at that look. She hesitated before sitting it was his home. Be polite she reminded herself. They wanted his help. Her eyes focused on him in clear challenge. Not open challenge, but enough ti make it clear she was no beta. She accepted the drink not mentioning that her were side made it hard for her to get drunk. She had drunk dwarves under the table. Still the drink smelled nice. She then saw his look and purposefully brought her self close to Volare. Her hand entwining hers. The entire action an almost silent animalistic scream of 'she is mine back off.' The action was obvious enough not to be lost on anyone. Maybe her more instinctual actions had betrayed her, but the druid suddenly asked what she was. She was unsure, but felt honesty was best or at least some of the truth, "Well that is a bit of a rude thing to ask before we have even introduced ourselves or yourself. We came here peacefully looking for some help by an elder's recommendation. Still I can tell you I am obviously an elf and I do have some strong powers in my bloodline. I can assure you it is all quite natural. I am Shirine by the way and this is Volare. She is the one who could use your help. Though first I would like to hear your name and why you asked me such a question out of the blue." That was mostly true. Her instinct said her power was natural, but her memory loss always left doubt especially with what that crazy drow had done to her during her enslavement. She wondered if this man hated were-creatures.... but he had not reacted to Volare? Her family blood? Who could detect that?.... She was cautious to an extreme now. She had even gone a little taunt like a cat ready ing to pounce. Not obvious moves, just subtle preparations so she could move quickly if needed. Needless to say her drink was left untouched. Edited by Shirine, Fri Oct 2, 2015 6:03 am.
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| Volare | Sat Dec 26, 2015 6:53 pm Post #8 |
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Volare followed the little man until they came to a clearing in which a bear was resting. The bear looked odd, as though some kind of wood was growing from it. Was this perhaps one of the druid’s experiments? It was said that he had worked with ivyn, cultivating them in some manner, but perhaps he had tried to combine them with animals. If that was the case, Volare wasn’t liking the man to begin with. Her eyes hardened, recalling the druids she had fought alongside Vyserial Noclan. They deserved whatever they got, and the next time she went after someone who was intentionally tainting nature, nothing would stop her from showing nature’s full fury. But her attentions were drawn from this by a rush of wind. She felt only the slightest breeze, but when she looked up at what she thought might be its source, she slowed a little. That bird…she had seen it before. She had first noticed it the day she’d gone out to handle the druids on her own. Its silvery plumage shined just as it had before, as though it had just come from a rainstorm, and yet…there was no rain here. There was moisture, perhaps, but no rain. It was a beautiful, warm, sunny day. Well…the sun was dimmed somewhat by the canopy, but still… Its stormy, gray-blue eyes stared right back at her own. She almost stopped but a glance ahead reminded her of her purpose here. Nevertheless, she looked back up at the bird. There was a certain sense of familiarity with it. She wondered now if it had been the one to call upon all those birds when she’d faced off against the druids alongside Shirine. She had wondered that before, though…yes, she was almost sure of it now. The bird was undeniably tied to them. Either they had come because it had called or because of their connection to it, a connection that would have been far more mysterious were it not for Volare’s own connection with her lynx-like animalism. But before long, the bird was out of sight as they once more headed into darkness. The tunnel was nothing special, although she was a little surprised by the interior. It looked more like a lodge than the inside of a tree, and it was complete with a bar and liquor. The druid seemed to be having some kind of disciplinary argument with his assistant, and then the assistant stormed off. She sat down beside Shirine and said nothing, although she politely took the drink. It smelled strongly, yet not overpoweringly, of juniper. It was a fine scent, but the man’s words and Shirine’s response prompted her to set the drink down. The visible tension in the room and recent events made Volare want to place her hand upon the hilt of her sword, yet she dared not draw. It was indeed quite a tense moment, yet Shirine’s comforting grasp of her hand apparently made the same defiant statement that Volare’s own mind was now considering. She squeezed that hand just as comfortingly, at the same time silently thanking Shirine for not allowing her to do something stupid. She wasn’t sure what exactly she would have done but the insult hung upon the air, regardless of whether it was intended. The bird outside did remind her of her purpose in coming here, however. Birds seemed to be gravitating toward her in an almost alarming manner of late, and that was even odder considering she was now as much a feline as a fae - perhaps more feline than fae, now. She chose not to dwell on that fact, however. Perhaps nature was trying to reconcile the loss of one of its most cherished children, and Volare’s feline alteration had now reasserted her former connection to nature in an odd way. The druid could probably help her to deepen her connection to nature even further, thus allowing her to once more begin regaining the power she had held as a winged fae. If she could reclaim some small portion of her connection to nature in full, she would be at least somewhat restored to her former self. Even without wings, she felt that her connection was slowly starting to rebuild itself, if not in the same way as before. And if a druid could help her understand the natural world of Imythess and possibly establish a permanent connection to it, then she might be able to almost whole once again. That was her ultimate goal now: to feel whole and to regain some measure of the power she had lost. This druid, she hoped, could help her do that. |
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| Hearne | Wed Dec 30, 2015 5:20 pm Post #9 |
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Hearne grinned at the two women over his mug before closing his eyes and raining his mug, lifting it to catch the last drops. the motion adjusted the collar of his robe enough to show the edges of the delicate knotwork of tattoos around his Heart. Sliding the mug aside, he leaned forward to inspect the two. His nostrils flared once again, taking in their scent more thorougly. He caught the woman's scent more strongly, noting the feline undertones. lifting his eyebrows, he raised a palm to her placatingly. “No offense meant. I receive many visitors. Few of them are what they seem. And elves are rarely friendly, especially those seeking me out. My dear cousin saw to that.” He stood and stretched, rolling the sleeves of his robe up. waving the two to follow him as he approached the double doors. An image was carved into the doors, a scene of thirteen figures standing in a clearing around a newborn infant and an antlered creature behind it. A knot in the wood made a hole over the child's heart, the spirit touching a finger to the edge of the knot. Pushing the doors open spilled warm, golden light into the room along with the sounds of a deep, lively forest. Looking out over the cavern, he picked out a struggle between a newly captured Thornback Ivyn and three of his Tenders, humanoid ivyn with dark wooden flesh struggling to tie down the beast. the razors on its back kept snapping the rope and swinging limbs defied attempts to hogtie. Deciding they would either succeed themselves or he would take care of it later. “A pleasure, Shirine. My name is Hearne. You have my word of safe passage. Laws of hospitality apply in my grove. Please don't pick the roses, they bite.” He bowed his head to the woman and turned to his other guest. ‘Apologies for ignoring you, cousin. I see the fae all too rarely these days. Some of the lesser fae reside here, but I have not seen one of your kind in a long while.” He looked into her eyes, frowning at the colorless grey. “What can an old druid do for you?” ((OOC: Hearne's body is a mix of Sidhe and Elf blood from a disgraced branch of the royal line, but his spirit is an old fae native to Calmonah, touched by madness and the recent arcano-plague. Mix of Necromancy and Golemancy and such to tie spirits to stillborn infants.)) |
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Fri Jan 1, 2016 1:10 am Post #10 |
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Shirine wasn't entirely sure about this druid and the imagery she saw was a little unnerving. The child being embedded with some sort of knot... it felt odd that she had seen some sort of a tattoo near the druids heart... why did she think of that in relation to the picture story... were they connected? No she was jumping to conclusions. She also was curious about this cousin he mentioned, but decided to wait on asking about that. He opened the door into cavern... forest... it was an interesting place. Still she was on gaurd as she recognized the creatures as Ivyn. This druid was odd in many ways. She had known the Ivyn as nothing, but twisted creatures, but this showed perhaps it wasn't entirely true... or was this druid doing some sort of experiment. Oddly the druid said they would be safe and for some reason her instinct said he was being truthful. Though that didn't help with her now thinking about what he meant about cousin. She took a deep breath calming her own worries and conflicting instincts. They were here for help. She squeezed Volare's hand again before letting go letting go of her hand. She wanted to let Volare full freedom to explain her problem. Shirine would be watching of course. |
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| Volare | Fri Jan 1, 2016 7:20 am Post #11 |
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The imagery engraved upon the door was…odd. It was obviously some sort of ritual, but was it religious in nature? Or was it something else entirely? It must have been a druidic ritual, of course; there were certain small rituals that had been performed by the fae back in Gwyllion that could affect the natural world and its inhabitants in various ways, both positive and - if the need was dire, which was rare - negative ways. Volare pondered the nature of the doors before something struck her. Her eyes flicked to the man’s back before he turned around. The tattoos upon his breast…yes, they were in the same place as the knot in the wood. She was absolutely certain of it. And if something had been done to him to bind him to nature in some manner, or perhaps something else…the elf-maid hadn’t wanted to say much, she recalled. It was as though she had been holding something back. Perhaps that was it. But she had mentioned him cultivating the ivyn for reasons that were his own, which made her wonder how much of him was…well, him. Wait…cousin? He might appear humanoid, but there was distinctly something inhuman about him. His body more closely resembled that of the elves, and yet he was not entirely elven, either. Nature certainly flourished about him, as well it should, but something was off. She’d sensed it since she’d first entered what she now recognized in full as his grove, but she was only just beginning to consciously understand that feeling. Yet he called her cousin, and it was not in the manner that one druid would associate with another druid. The ones that she had met or heard of called one another sisters or brothers…but cousin…that almost sounded as though he was…part-fae? Was that possible? She supposed that the lines could certainly have been blurred in Imythess, for Imythess was not Gwyllion. It seemed unlikely, nigh impossible even, and yet there was doubt in her mind. Volare started to do something distinctly fae-like then, almost without thinking about it. Her right hand started to stretch up, as though she was going to reach for him. Her fingers would have pressed against his forehead, a symbolic and simultaneously literal reaching-out that would connect the two spirits - assuming he was indeed part-fae. But she stopped before her hand had even risen to the level of her breasts or moved more than a couple of inches beyond the immediate vicinity of her abdomen. After a moment’s hesitation, she closed her hand gently. Then she let the hand drop. When he asked what he could do for her, a million things flew through her mind all at once. But above them all was one solid thought: the real reason she was here. She hesitated, but Shirine squeezed her hand. After a moment, she let go. Part of Volare wanted her hand to remain in Shirine’s, and she glanced at Shirine with a moment’s uncertainty in her eyes. But she drew in a breath and let it out slowly, and then her eyes seemed to harden. Yes, she knew what she had to do. She blinked and looked back at the druid, her resolve strong once more. She decided to speak in her own tongue now, for if he was truly fae, he would understand it and speak it as fluidly as she did. True fae was quick and light, like a stream moving swiftly toward a raging river - there one moment, gone the next, never to be seen again. It was precious in the moment, treasured forever, and true fae never forgot a single word spoken to them by another fae. It was simply the way of things, and it ran much deeper than any connection the fae might form between one another; on the other hand, it was because of such connections that the fae language was so much more sensual and spiritual and - yes, even powerful - than the words of other races. Even the elves tended to respect the secrets of the fae, regardless of however superior they might feel to other races. ”I seek to reclaim that which has been lost to me,” she began. ”I seek the beauty of my soul, the lost treasures known only to the fae, from which our very existence stems.” She spoke, of course, of the deep connection that all fae had not only to one another but to nature and its inhabitants as a whole. Elementals and their kindred were primal in the conditions of their existence, but fae were connected as deeply to nature as they were to other fae and vice versa - and only full elementals bound wholly to their elements could understand such a deep and powerful experience as that. Another moment’s hesitation…and then she slowly turned around. She took another deep breath as she reached for the edges of her shirt. Then she let it out slowly - and lifted it to reveal her back. Even healed as they had been by her transformation, even as perfect as her now-unscarred body had become, the deep and penetrating vertical marks where once her wings had been would never go away. They could not be healed fully - not even close - by any but the most powerful magic, magic not found on Chaon. A fae’s wings weren’t just an extension of herself, nor were they merely a source of or focus for their oft-unchallengeable magic. No, they grew because of the connections formed between their souls and the souls of those of their kind, and because of their souls’ connection to the natural world. It was what comprised their souls, really, those connections - and so, to have their wings removed entirely was worse by far than anything else that could have been done to…well, anyone or anything on the physical plane, really. If this man was truly part-fae, even just a little, he would do more than understand the potency and gravity of her native tongue; he would also understand the immense gravity of what he was seeing. For someone she didn’t know and might or might not be truly connected to, it was an incredible show of trust and faith. |
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| Hearne | Sat Feb 27, 2016 6:37 am Post #12 |
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Hearne rocked back at the speaking of the fae tongue, taking a speechless moment to gather himself. It had been a great while since he'd so much as seen another fae, let alone heard the native tongue. Walking among his kind was a distant memory, belonging to the spirit and not the flesh. “It's been some time, forgive me if the flow of my speech is troubled.” He crossed his arms, the color of his eyes churning like molten copper. His fingers began to elongate and his skin smoothed, various tattoos becoming fine silvery lines of magic. The gold of his eyes turned to a vibrant green, wavering to violet and blue as he shed the layers of magic shaping his fae features to something more comfortable for mortals. From the folds in his robes extended two appendages, long branch-like structures that could have been wings once upon a time. burned and twisted, they were just barely alive. “You aren't the only lost child.” He extended a hand, tracing his fingers over the vertical marks in her back, feeling the magic around her. “What happened to you?” He rumbled, the gentle flow of his Fae turning dark and turbulent. His nature was unstable. His own connection was tenuous, corrupted by either madness or disease. Even twisted, he shuddered at the severed connection of the girl before him. A pained expression came over his alien features and his appearance once again reshaped, falling past elven to something almost human. His beard grew back in, short and groomed. Tightening his robe, he fastened it close as the raised, ink-darkened scars flattened and smoothed on his chest and arms. his eyes dulled and returned to a uniform copper. “I'm not sure how well I can help restore what you have lost, though I can certainly try. I've been here for a good long while trying to restore my own broken state. I hesitate to connect with you directly. What I am... may be contagious. I touched on the madness in Calmonah and a piece of it stayed behind. Grew.” He strode to the bar, pouring a new drink from an unlabeled bottle. It was a dark, rich purple and smelled like wine. He drank it thirstily, licking the remainder from his lips. “I appreciate the trust you've shown in me, cousin. I'd be glad to do anything I can to help. It's been too long since anyone of the blood has chosen to associate with me, even by accident.” He poured a second drink, sitting easily on a stool behind the large, polished slab of carved, dark ironwood. Sipping from this second glass, he eyed his guests over the rim. “I am old and long since excommunicated, but I can still reach out to the Fae. I am strong, but tainted. And I can offer a certain amount of expertise in the ties of spirits and the magical world. If you are looking for a druid who will hold your hand and heal you with kind words and floral crowns, I am not what you are seeking. If you accept my aid, I will throw my weight in on your side. You may need it, especially if you're looking for aid outside of Chaon.” |
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Sat Feb 27, 2016 6:12 pm Post #13 |
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She listened in and nothing seemed to be threatening them. In fact it seemed like the druid would help them. He admitted he had some problems, which was a good sign to her. They all had fairly deep problems, but being aware of them was important. Honestly she didn't follow the entire magic side of things. It was not her strong point. She just ran on instinct for all her abilities. She settled down with her back against the wall for now watching the two ready to take action if anything dangerous happened, but for now it was time to just leave Volare with someone who could teach her what she needed to know. Shirine hopped it would help. Her eyes always watched carefully a small bit of concern for her Volare, her mate, at all times. OOC: Feel free to RP without Shirine for a bit I don't think she can contribute too much to the current situation. She will just sit in the background until things change or until we time skip/ start a new topic. |
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| Volare | Tue Mar 1, 2016 11:21 pm Post #14 |
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Volare lowered her shirt after the druid examined her. She turned about and saw his own detriment. There was pity and grief in her eyes, yet she said nothing. She followed him back into the bar, listening to his words. Indeed, he certainly did not seem like any kind of fae that she had met before. But what he said made sense, if the druids of Calmonah had twisted nature fit to alter him as well. She thought back to the graven image upon the doors, yet again, she said nothing. To his words about the lack of a gentle touch, however, she nodded. Her eyes hardened, and there was enough of an understanding between the two for it to be quite clear why. ”The time has passed for gentleness,” she told him, still speaking in her native tongue. ”Shirine is my mate now. She is my gentleness. But for me, the path ahead…I can see only war. By way of Shirine, I have begun to grow in power. I believe my connection to the animalia residing in Imythess is but one path to take. It will grant me power beyond what most can fight. But I seek greater power still - yet not only for the sake of such.” She sighed deeply. ”Even as changed as I am inside, I am not wholly transformed. I am still me. But…I am not completely me, and that is the problem. Be it spellcraft attuned to nature or another method entirely, I must regain my wholeness. My wings are lost to me. I have accepted this. But I cannot abide the emptiness that now resides where a part of me was ripped out. I must fill that void once more, and that is why I have come to you.” OOC
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| Hearne | Mon May 16, 2016 6:22 pm Post #15 |
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“There is little time for gentleness for those of us trapped here, cousin. We must be strong and fight to survive.” He lifted a hand to show her a small seed in his palm. “I can show you how to connect with beasts. And if you choose, I can take you under my tutelage proper. Show you once more how magic flows in this world.” the seed sprouted into a small mass of vines, a flower blossoming in his palm. It progressed rapidly through its life, withering and turning to soil. It began to heat and a small flame blossomed in the middle of the ash pile. It burned hotter and more violently before turning into a rush of static running up his arm and down to the boards beneath his feet. A small breeze brushed by Volare and carried the ash pile on it, scattering it. “But for now, I am happy to show you how to connect with the wildlife in these woods.” He brushed his palms together, wiping away the dusting of ash left behind. Hearne was silent a moment as he looked her over, scanning over her every detail and seeming to look deeper, reading the aura and play of magic around her. It was faint and erratic, poorly controlled. Perhaps once her bond had been strong, but she'd lost her touch. “If you want to apprentice under me, I require complete honesty. I am not an easy teacher and understand I can be difficult to trust. I will be completely honest in all I say to you in return. Perhaps I will not tell you everything, but I will be truthful and explain why I cannot tell you some things.” Hearne looked over his two visitors, thinking hard. “My halls and gardens are open to the both of you, but they may not be the safest place to sleep. A better option might be the clearing in the woods. But even there is an issue that needs to be ratified.” Hearne reached out to Volare and reached to touch her chin and draw her eyes up to lock with his own. The flames in the oil lamps around the tavern dimmed, room growing darker. Hearne didn't physically change, but he radiated his bestial nature like an aura, trying to form an animal connection with the bestial side of the fae. He could smell the animals on these two, less so on Volare than Shirine, but he could still sense it. “Show me your beast.” He didn't speak in a particular tongue, the sound a rolling, guttural growl akin to the snarl of a great cat. OOC
Edited by Hearne, Mon May 16, 2016 6:23 pm.
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8:19 AM Jul 11

