Lore of Leyuna RPG (FRPG)

[The Kingpin]

"I did enjoy the snow. I have never seen ground so pale before," the elf admitted, smiling. "The desert is very...yellow. And the heat can cook a man's brain if he isn't properly dressed for it. It's why we have garments for our heads. Bigger and lighter than the hats you see elsewhere in Aster. They protect our heads and necks from the sun."

"They have colourful powders that make me sneeze," offered Ceridwen, wanting to contribute.

"Spices," clarified Beshayir. "Our food is as hot as our sun and tastes unlike any other food in Aster," she boasted, smiling as she remembered her personal favourite, though it sank somewhat after she remembered what happened last time she had reason to eat it.

[C S]

"Isn't that something. You could say that some vaughrediin foods make your stomach freeze. Keeps the veggies nice and crisp without killing off the crops outright." Evisa debated with herself as to whether or not she should mention that as a result, it was commonplace in Vanguard for children around Beshayir's age to drink liquors meant to warm the blood. In her roaming she'd picked up on the nuanced cultural differences from place to place. Where one province would have no problems at all with it, another would find it absolutely scandalous. Evisa turned her helm towards Desrium, who stared back without saying a word.

She erred on the side of caution. Don't bring it up unless someone else does.

[The Kingpin]

"Our food is typically had with a sort of milk that makes you sleepy," responded Beshayir matter-of-factly. "It puts out the heat of the food without taking away the taste." The statement reminded her of something else the Thimeyrans tended to drink. "We also have a drink meant to keep you awake when you're tired. The temple priests drink it to help them with their day-long prayers, and the Qa'id serves it in his palace for important guests to keep them awake and focused for their important conversations."

[C S]

"Faruq drinks it to get through his reading," Desrium added in an abrupt, Ceridwen-like manner.

Evisa quietly contemplated the next logical thing, in her mind. "What happens when you mix them?" she inquired with an earnesty that implied she wasn't joking.

[The Kingpin]

"It wouldn't taste very nice. The milk we drink with our food is salty and a bit sour. But normal milk, the kind you know, does taste nice with qahwa. Or at least, that's what Syria says. I haven't tried it," responded the elf a bit disappointedly.

[C S]

"If this Faruq character has the 'caw-wah', I can get the milk..." Evisa grumbled something, tapping her index finger against the mouthpiece of her helmet. "If you're willing to wake up early tomorrow, I can look into it before stopping by the church. What do you think?"

[The Kingpin]

"Okay!" responded the elf enthusiastically. Perhaps she'd finally know if the taste was as good as the smell.

"I don't know what the appeal is. It smells like dirt," responded Ceridwen nonchalantly.

"It's delicious and expensive and enjoyed by the rulers of Thimeyra," fired back the elf.

"How do you know it's delicious when you haven't tasted it?" asked the avian dragoness pointedly.

"Because why would anyone drink it if it wasn't delicious?" retorted the Apprentice.

"Ask the ones who drink rotten fruit juice. I'd like to know the answer to that one myself," deadpanned Ceridwen, her eyes glittering with amusement at how flustered Beshayir got at that.

"It's not rotten fruit juice. It's wine. It's delicious too," defended the elf matter-of-factly.

"So you have had it before. Huh. You're a bit young to be drinking it, aren't you?" questioned the Thunderkin with a chastising lilt to her voice.

"In Valenhad maybe. Thimeyra's different."

"Even if they're different, you're both still drinking rotten fruit juice," chirped the dragoness.

"I suppose Septimus was right. Not all dragons can find a place in high society," jabbed Beshayir with a smirk.

Ceridwen choked at that, eyes wide as she spluttered a very shaky "What is that supposed to mean?!"

[C S]

"Ah. Wine." While the two bickered, Evisa found satisfaction in her unspoken query's answer. Wine wasn't anything near the hard ales that dwarves would covet if their tiny feet ever set foot on Vanguard's shores, but at least she had a clue as to where cultural borders were laid without undermining her position as the responsible caregiver.

Likewise, Desrium held his words. Contrary to Evisa, he did not dwell in his own thoughts, listening to the points raised and raising his own questions to meditate on. Namely, he had to ask himself why Ceridwen was so taken with the notion of aristocracy. Had Syria been reading her stories?

[The Kingpin]

"... It means you're not lady-like," responded Beshayir teasingly. "It's okay though. We love you anyway."

"You-!" exclamied the dragoness, not knowing how to react to that, thrown into particular confusion when the elf followed that up with a hug. Once the elf backed off, Ceridwen blinked. "You're impossible."

"You enjoy it," responded Beshayir with a smirk, to which the dragoness twittered, the meaning of which was a total mystery, though it seemed very much to be an expression of frustrated, flustered confusion.

[C S]

The sound took on a life of its own starting with the glassy figures standing behind Evisa. One of them imitated the frequency to the best of their capability, imparting a ringing quality as a result. The adjacent elementals formed a chorus with their own renditions, adding their own deviations that resonated throughout their hardened bodies, almost like a chime when they all sounded off in unison. Around the rim of the cave, other attempts at replicating the sound were audible. The twitter was lost in the styles of the individual speakers, and each individual speaker blended together into a sound unheard before.

Evisa stood up again and looked around the cavern, making eye contact with her flock, even those whose eyes did not look like eyes. "This is new," she told herself. More depth to the way her elementals vocalized. "It's a good day for a milestone. Even if I don't know what spurred this all on..."

[The Kingpin]

Ceridwen was the most notable of the non-elementals to react, her head seeming to be on a swivel, bobbing and turning and tilting with each successive imitation until they blurred into one echoing cacophonous chorus that had her shrinking away a bit, discouraged.

"They like your voice," commented Beshayir, intrigued by the sight. "Do they do this often?" she inquired, pointing the question at the Lady of Light.

[C S]

"First time, as far as I'm aware. I don't think they'd have a reason to be this starstruck when I'm out in the city." Evisa looked off into the snow pile, knuckles against her hips. "I haven't heard anything of it, if there was such an occasion," she said with a mildly vacant tone that spoke to her attention wandering away to another tangent. It disappeared in an instant, her sharp focus directed to the armored being. "Did they act like this when you came across them?"

"No," Desrium responded. "But there was another who directed me to them. One of a peculiar sort. It is possible that they are gravitating to that peculiarity."

"That's not telling me much," Evisa retorted. What she found peculiar was the revelation that someone else preceded her involvement with the elementals. How many faces did Desrium see along the road he walked?

Desrium hummed, knowing that his explanation was not much of one at all. The alternative was as complex as the intricacies of a half-elemental birth, however. He would have to delve into his speculations as to how a Hueilin's soul became attached to an unassuming, if not flamboyant, Thimeyran. "I hardly understand it myself, to be frank," Desrium offered instead.

"Go figure."

"This may be an expression of nostalgia for them. It is but a guess."

[The Kingpin]

"Nostalgia?" asked Beshayir, somewhat confused.

"To remember something familiar that is missed," explained Ceridwen.

"I know that. But What is nostalgic about it?" clarified the elf. Was Ceridwen's particular breed of Hueilin something they had encountered before? Did they meet some other massive bird-like creature? A gryphon perhaps? Or something like the Mask-Wearers of Wispwood?

[C S]

Evisa angled her brow towards Desrium and crossed her arms expectantly. The elementals let out another round of sound to bounce off the rock walls of their burrow and Desrium raised his eyes, as though struck by an insight. Seeing this, the viking only grew more curious. "What are they telling you?"

"It must be perplexing to their growing minds. They feel something that betrays what they remember seeing. Although it would not be the same, a meeting with Septimus may reconcile their confusion," Desrium suggested.

Evisa shrugged her shoulders. "You're confusing," she said flatly. Just what she needed, this cryptic roundabout on top of the inexplicable transformations.

[The Kingpin]

"Puzzling," chirped Ceridwen thoughtfully as she observed the Stalwart's conversation with the Lady of Light and the elementals.

"Septimus told me about this. Conversations with Desrium are always interesting," responded Beshayir, her tone low even though she knew from what she'd been told that Desrium could easily have heard her.

"Confusing, you mean?" asked Ceridwen, tilting her head.

"No. Interesting. Desrium thinks differently from others. He gives you unexpected viewpoints on things. He never says what you'd expect to be said," corrected Beshayir.

"So confusing. Right," stated Ceridwen bluntly. Beshayir was listening to Septimus's dramatic explanations a bit too closely, it seemed.

[C S]

"It's saying something that he's more forthcoming about a stranger whose history is steeped in dealings with an actual god," Evisa contributed to the deliberation on the subject of Desrium's brand of indirectness. This resulted in a moment of introspection on the part of the armored being. His metal head remained as it was, however, the focus of his red eyes went to the ground made smooth by the friction between stones.

"It is easier to explain the history of gods than some topics, I find," said the Paladin by the end of his brief meditation.

"What a cop out," Evisa shot back in good nature.

[The Kingpin]

"Septimus seems to have a good understanding of things. I think he'll be able to figure it out," said Beshayir finally.

"I guess we're in for a wait," relented the dragoness with a sigh. Glancing to Evisa, she asked, "So where do we sleep?"

[C S]

Evisa perked up at the mention of sleep. "Oh... yeah," she thought upon the reminder that it was late outside. Naturally the most exciting part of her day would come about right at the end. "Wherever you like. It's a cave, after all," she said, throwing her arms out to emphasize the grand scale of the elemental retreat. Firelight reflecting off of the pillars and walls, glimmering in the pools, creeks and fountains that ran and filled themselves, and refracting off of the glassy skin of the crystalline, gem and jewel-like.

"If you're a fan of comfort as I am, though, I've gotten to making bed-pile-mats from the hay bales we ruin -- exercise -- with."

"Bed... pile... mat?" Desrium wondered.

"A bunch of hay collected together to sleep on doesn't look like much of anything other than a bunch of hay on the ground. It's difficult to put into words." Evisa's tone was just a tad patronizing at the end of her statement, continuing to jab at Desrium, who was resigned to accept his new station. Only Septimus could provide the clarity she wanted.

[The Kingpin]

"So a sleeping mound. We have those in Drakhunmiir too. Well, a form of them. Scales like steel are all well and good for some of our kin but others like myself still appreciate finer sleeping accomodations," chirped Ceridwen matter-of-factly.

"Septimus seems to like his comfort even with his scales," quipped Beshayir.

"He's softer than he looks," responded the dragoness dismissively. "Some of our kind look like rocks given life. If I hadn't spent my whole life among them and been told by every elder I spoke to, I still wouldn't believe we were of the same kind of dragon."

[C S]

Evisa swiveled her chin between Ceridwen, Beshayir and finally Desrium. "Too?" she asked.

"Caverns among the inner regions of their mountain, in which the Hueilin reside," Desrium explained succinctly. "It was part of an earlier conversation on the walk over here."

Evisa nodded understandingly; her familiarity with the Kirrahara was as distant as her glacial-locked home, and as fleeting as the ships that skirted Aster's coasts to reach places even farther away. What she did know was even more distilled and bare-bones than the knowledge held by the communities at the base of the mountain range. Chiefly among these few factoids was dragons live somewhere in the fog. Not many people had a clue how they lived. It was interesting to hear.

Yet it had to be said, "So how long until you decide you won't answer my questions reasonably?"

Desrium only stared with his unchanging stare.

"Living rocks?" Evisa proceeded without fail, "I think I know a thing or two about those."