Lore of Leyuna RPG (FRPG)

[The Kingpin]

"Not real living rocks. They just have shells and armour and dried lava on their hides that make them look like rocks," responded Ceridwen simply.

"Lava?" asked the elf, unfamiliar with the term.

"Melted stone."

"Oh."

[C S]

"Oh," Evisa replied in kind. "I had a joke about dragon-elementals in mind and all..." While she put one hand behind her helmet in a motion to scratch her head, which she couldn't, Desrium glanced to the jewel-bodied group. Armor elemental. And there was Syria's viridian shadow, not to forget the mistress who lived beneath the sands. Evisa herself was living proof of how odd elemental life expressed itself.

"You may be closer to fact than you realize," Desrium stated.

[The Kingpin]

Ceridwen was completely lost at that statement, the tilting of her head as much a visual cue to such as anything. "Dragon-elementals?" she chirped confusedly.

That reminded Beshayir of something, and she found it necessary to mention. "Well, I have seen Septimus become something... else. Maybe not elemental... But not flesh either."

[C S]

"Ah," Desrium stated. Evisa cocked her head. It was difficult in the best of times to gauge Desrium's surprise, but it struck her then that this was something he was expecting. On the other hand, it struck Desrium that in the time it took to make amends with the powers of his sword, Septimus had grown in his own way. He could only guess as to why Septimus hadn't mentioned it earlier. Maybe the Scholar hadn't yet mastered his new abilities, rendering a demonstration hazardous to his company. Maybe it had slipped his mind upon seeing his metal friend sprout wings of shade. Maybe, in this rare instance, Desrium had spoken too much and left Septimus no opportunity to bring it up.

"Ah...?" Evisa prompted when the pause drew too long for her liking. She was prepared for another aggravating mystery to leave Desrium's mouth.

"You know of Buruq," he said, directed to Beshayir and Ceridwen. Ceridwen spoke of the storied wyrm as though she had seen him during her time in Drakhunmiir.

Evisa sighed a hollow sigh in her helmet. Her want for information was abundantly clear to Desrium, in contrast. "Is Buruq anything like your giant buddy with the st-- divine -- sword?"

"Yes, if you compare them based on lifespan and duty to Tyrbenetus. No, on the basis that Buruq is a dragon. A Hueilin that can turn scale and armor into breeze... or a tornado... or worse..." Desrium hummed.

"So... dragon-elemental?"

"Not in the way that I initially considered, but yes."

[The Kingpin]

"Oh," responded Ceridwen. "Oh." She knew the elders were fearful of him for something. Whispers had spread of the fact the elders felt unfathomable power in the Ambassador. But one that could actually become one with the harshest of what the sky had to offer, to become a living incarnation of something as violent as a tornado or a hurricane... Such a thing would tear the Hueilin apart if it were to be bound to the power suspected of a dragon so ancient.

The young elf hummed in thought at that. "He didn't tell me much about Buruq. Only that he was very old and very wise. And that he had taught both Septimus and his father all that they knew."

[C S]

"His knowledge comes with baffling traits and a flair for the inexplicable."

"Like you," Evisa chimed in with strategic precision.

"Another conversation best had in Septimus' company," Desrium persevered. With Natalie on her final paces to the cavern, he figured it was time for their talk to wind down to its rightful conclusion. Beshayir and Ceridwen were due for an early morning in pursuit of qahwa and cream, whereas Evisa had a few more things to address before the darkest of night and the worst of the rain. Her puzzlement over her elementals notwithstanding.

[The Kingpin]

Beshayir, feeling that the conversation had run its course, had begun to grow distracted by her surroundings. Intrigued by the beings of stone and ice and fire, she began to venture away from the group, eager to get a closer look. Ceridwen remained watchful. "I never thought him being here would ever be so important to the flow of a simple conversation," she mused, a bit absently.

[C S]

"He is a better speaker than I, and for some things, his physical example offers a more satisfying answer than any attempt I can make to put words together," Desrium responded.

"You speak like a scribe's tome given a voice, and you don't think you can use your words effectively." Evisa shook her head. A riddle and a contradiction, this one was.

[The Kingpin]

"I can sympathise with that. I don't always know how to use mortaltongue," responded Ceridwen half-jokingly. She decided not to include the fact she and Septimus tended to snap at eachother in their own tongue when one -usually Septimus- felt the other -usually Ceridwen- stepped out of line.

The elf, meanwhile, found herself especially drawn to a cluster of fire elementals, intrigued by the rich colours of their flames and the fact she was looking at the living embodiment of the school of magic she studied. It was surreal, seeing what Orthelia told her about, given actual, tangible life. No, not given. Manifested. These things were the living manifestations of pyromancy. The creators of pyromancy, even.

It was both an unnerving and exciting prospect.

[C S]

Desrium eyed Ceridwen for a breath of a moment, wary of his offputting attributes. 'Mortaltongue' was a term he found interesting considering this world of long lived peoples and the myriad ways they have learned to communicate. Dragons included. There was no accounting for innate pride, and it could not be helped. The armored Stalwart did not comment. Evisa was not so reserved.

"I don't think being unable to die of old age is grounds enough to separate languages. Language is language, it just depends on whether or not the people you're talking to can understand you." After this statement, Evisa's voice took on a whole new quality by increments. Desrium caught the transition into language of the vaughrediin early on, but it took him another moment or two to realize the viking had begun to sing. The ballad was a drawl in her tongue, without the fanfare she expressed while in church, and it served to prove her point because Desrium had no idea what she was saying.

The flaming young, like chicks, began bobbing their heads arrhythmically after observing Beshayir during this time. Their bodies were clearly not avian in form or function. Some of them had features defined by dark flame, drawing vaguely humanoid contours within their writhing figures. Others, like the hyperactive Anekai, featured solid masses in their cores that could have been described as nearly molten rock, brimming with red veins of heat. Being so close to them, one would expect it to be uncomfortable and difficult to breathe. The reality of the matter was not so. These beings were flame that did not want to burn, as was their will. Their kind truly was the base that all pyromancies were derived.

[The Kingpin]

Ceridwen watched in surprise at the apparently aggressive reaction her statement had garnered, feeling quite guilty that she'd offended the Lady of Light and worrying for her opinion of the dragoness. Not wanting to offend her further, however, she refrained from responding before the viking had concluded her song.

Beshayir observed the young elementals curiously, the reactions she'd earned drawing a smile across her features. Their features fascinated her, and she found it difficult to draw her gaze away to the singing she heard in the background. Instead, she flexed her fingers and curled them into an interpretative mimicry of a flickering flame, fire coming to life across her fingertips as she reached forward to the adolescent elementals.

[C S]

"See?" Evisa went on to say in their shared speech, "I'm not going to live nearly as long as the two of you, but you have no idea what I just said. Sang. Whichever."

"I would like to be enlightened," Desrium stated.

"What? About the song?"

Desrium nodded. Evisa stared ahead at him. Before Desrium could inquire further, Evisa said, "Er. It's something I made up just now. There's no rhyme or anything..."

"Then it was gibberish?" Desrium asked. He did not know Evisa as one who would do something without purpose, and seeing as her intention was to prove a point, a demonstration of nonsense was highly unusual in his eyes.

"I was referencing a part of my people's history. We were not always known as vikings. We were just 'frost villagers' in the beginning, then we set out on our first ships and realized we were on the top of the world. So we called ourselves 'northern villagers'. Some time after that we met other people from down below... and because of language difficulties the 'villager' part became 'viking'."

"Ah."

"We rolled with it because 'viking' sounded cool. Vaughrediin in our tongue -- we had to make up a word for a direct translation."

"Intriguing," said Desrium.

[The Kingpin]

"You misunderstood me," chirped Ceridwen, looking as concerned as one of her facial features could. "I didn't mean to offend. I just call all the tongues other than the Hueilin mortaltongue. I don't know what they're really called. Is it Drax? Valen? Brod? Vaugh?" she asked, illustrating her point.

[C S]

"Zuppo," Desrium offered a little too quickly. Her lowered his red eyes to his metal boots and said, "I am not helping."

"It's a good point. But I wasn't offended. I'm just... um..." Evisa looked off to the side and chuckled.

From the pile of snow and rock a rumbling baritone emanated, and traveled through the floor and walls of the cave. The flaming cluster piqued and shot their bright gazes towards that glistening corner of the cavern, distracted from Beshayir.

"Yes, Bouldron. I am a viking."

[The Kingpin]

"Bouldron?" questioned Ceridwen, momentarily distracted from the line of conversation. I suppose there's no accounting for originality amongst living rocks she mused in silence.

Beshayir was very much taken by surprise by the sound, having not expected something so deep or so loud to be in here. In hindsight, that was silly of her. This cavern was filled with elementals, of course there were gonna be surprising to be heard, or seen. Hell, there would probably even be something to be smelled if it turned out the water elementals wanted to make their best impression of that strange after-rain smell Septimus told her about. What was it again? Petrichor?

[C S]

"He'll show himself... eventually. All of them will... when they 'warm up to you'. Pardon the expression. Here, let me help offload some of that weight on your back," Evisa responded. Stepping up to Ceridwen to undo the canvases that held Beshayir's things, there was little else for the dragon to puzzle over. Desrium's pacing of mannerisms left one wanting and trailing behind most of the time, but Evisa was very much the same way. The difference was Desrium's vast capacity for patience, as opposed to Evisa's lack of it. She didn't have as much time as others.

[The Kingpin]

Ceridwen reluctantly lowered her wings for the Lady of Light to better reach the straps holding the gear in place, a small twitter escaping her for reasons unknown to all but herself. It could have been gratitude, or a quiet complaint at the vagueness of such a time as 'eventually'. Or it could have been that she was thirsty. No one could say for certain, and so it would remain.

[C S]

Natalie's lonesome gave her ample time to go over the sequence of events that led her to the present. Her shoes found true footing on the fresh trail left in the dirt and sparse grass, one set of tracks much more defined than the others. The 'feet' that left them were notably heavy.

The woman's expression was wrinkled with a mild peeve, her lips wound tight. She had no one to blame but herself for this less than ideal happenstance; poking around the inner district of the city and then searching the residential areas had eaten up the little daylight she had left. She employed a combination of educated guesses in her search and asking for the ear of anyone with a moment to spare, which proved unreliable in the end. Luck just wasn't on her side this time around. There were people that had seen Evisa around a little before she started asking around, so Natalie thought she'd catch her by chance, or vice versa. Evisa really did cover a lot of ground in her day to day activities. It seemed promising at the time.

Well, that time has past, and Natalie was alone in the dark, keeping a true heading towards the light she saw against the trees. All she had to do was hold out for a few more minutes and she'd be delivered from the nightly chill. "And this wind, as well," she thought. Natalie would be remiss to neglect the worrisome weather brewing. The rain was showing restraint and she hoped it would continue to until she was out of the woods, in both senses of the phrase. There was so much that could go wrong for her, and yet she went on anyway. Was she spoiled to be in the presence of the grand figures that congregated around Brodudika? "There was a time, I'm sure, when I would have cut my losses and gone with my better judgement. Do I still have a 'better judgement'?"

Natalie hugged herself a little tighter, pulling her coat taut. "I don't want to go home cold... muddy... and wet." No matter how full of doubt she got, Natalie could hold onto that and not lose herself. "A toast to not being cold, muddy and wet. Or it would be a toast, if I had anything to drink..."

Now, was it proper for a verger to carry a flask in the folds of her suit? Probably not. She knew some would argue that it was an acceptable flaw to slip between the mandates of spirituality, and she understood where they were coming from. No one was born a saint. Natalie hung her head. "But I have to to try to be." She wasn't just any regular person of faith. Melok told her as much.

"But I'd like to be... not to prove anything. Just to know for myself; to be happy with myself. That would be nice."

She granted herself a small smile. Evisa was so self-assured. So confident and larger than life. If there was anyone who could show her the way, it would have to be the light from the north. For this, Natalie didn't feel so badly about foregoing the flask idea.

When Natalie reached the partial clearing outside of the burrow, Evisa was there waiting for her at the top of the incline, ironically cast in shadow by the ambient light. The orange glow caught her silhouette and angular attributes, just enough to set her leathery scales apart from the surroundings. Natalie's sure stride shrunk and faltered at the sight. Hesitation beckoned her to take the few small paces backwards into the trees. Ominous did not fully describe what the scenery felt like in the thicket outside of the burrow. The helmet atop the viking's head, the metal casing that reflected the fiery hues most vibrantly, made Evisa's eyes appear shrunken and empty. Natalie heard the sound of her heart, all too loud, thumping away in her chest. She contemplated the absurdity of it migrating closer to her head.

"This is the night for something awful, and I am too far from anyone--"

"Did you come all this way just to get cold feet on my not-quite-a-doorstep?" Evisa broached. An incredulous tone seeped into her question. Natalie picked up on it in that moment when her panic mixed with surprise and relief. The cocktail of emotions numbed her wit and robbed her of the ability to articulate.

"Ha. Cold feet. And I'm a... and it's about to..." Evisa laughed to herself. Inexplicable transformations, nebulous topics of conversations and anchors that reminded her of home. Natalie placed a hand over her heart, trying to ease herself into the apparent levity. Seeing this, Evisa continued, "Did the walk wear you down?"

Speak. "No, actually. To be completely truthful, you gave me a bit of a scare, there. You looked a bit..." Natalie went through her vocabulary for another way to say 'ghoulish'. "... intimidating." She watched Evisa shrug it off as she pulled in a few deep breaths.

"Draw your own witticisms about strong women and the effects they have on their peers," Evisa said, and she left little time for Natalie to do just that before she stepped out from the cavern fully to cross the distance between them. Her magic manifested as a tangible layer of warmth a few inches off of her armor. The light chased the unsightly shadows away, and gave Natalie a buffer from the weather. "I am not oblivious to how creepy it is to find someone standing still in the dark, waiting for you, though."

Natalie hunched forward and clasped her hands together to beg forgiveness silently. Evisa patted her on the shoulder. "You were expecting me?" asked the verger upon standing straight again.

"Desrium tipped me off that you were coming."

"Oh." Natalie turned her gaze up ruminatively and then started to nod. "I was following in his footsteps... in a way." His, and the peculiar pair he was escorting. "I assume he's still around?"

"He's seeing off some friends of his for the night. I'll be keeping them out of trouble until their usual company gets back from business."

"Ah. Business? They didn't have much time to settle down from when they first arrived."

Evisa shook her head and turned a hand over. "Hectic days find all of us at some points in our lives. But seeing as you're here... I take it today's been particularly hectic?"

Natalie swallowed hard. She nodded apprehensively, trying to not seem overeager to share her troubles. "I spoke to the guard captain--"

"What business could you possibly have with Melok?" Evisa interjected pointedly. Natalie recoiled, and Evisa held her hands out to take her by the shoulders. "Sorry... didn't mean to scare you." The second time in short succession that her usual abrasiveness was misunderstood. "Something to work on... with everything else".

Natalie steadied her heart with another bout of calming breaths. "To be technical... he spoke to me after I happened upon him in the course of doing my duty at the church."

"That is technical," Evisa agreed and then released Natalie. "So what did he do?"

"I don't think he's at fault at all here, make no mistake."

Evisa actively kept her arms at her side. It was her first instinct to cross them and shoot Natalie the most doubtful look her helmet would allow her to convey.

"He just... doubted me. And he's got every reason to. I just wanted to confess that so that my conscience can remain clear, and I can keep myself from doing something I'll regret again... if I can remember to regret it--"

"Desrium's gonna have to walk back alone tonight, it looks like."

"Huh?" Natalie wished she could search Evisa's face for a clue as to what she was thinking.

"Why don't you hang out here for tonight? I've got plans in the morning, and I think you'd like to tag along."

Natalie, stunned, questioned herself. Evisa's dedicated manner of speaking did not seem to leave her a choice at all. And how! Was this not what she admired about the warrior from the frost? "Uh... if it's with you and you don't mind--" she answered timidly, met with Evisa's decisiveness.

"Great." Evisa took Natalie's hand in her own. "We can talk more about things later. Get a good night's sleep with good company on a... sleeping mound. Apparently that's what they're called."

"... Sleeping mound?" Natalie asked as she was led into the burrow, the alien realm of elementals. The sights alone drowned her conflicted thoughts and dashed her doubts with the splendor of her imagination. She conceded that if this was Evisa's idea of a distraction, it was a very effective one.

"Hay-bed-pile thing. Sleeping mound is easier to say. Come to think of it, I think you'll like Ceridwen."

"Ceridwen?"

"The birdy dragon that flew in the other day."

"Oh. So those tracks were--"

"Yep. Hers."




Later on after Desrium left his regards with the others, the rain began to fall. On his way back to Brodudika, the armored being walked through the corridors of leafless trees, droplets bursting against his metal hide, his red light reflecting off of the sheets that poured down around him. The woods played a pattering tune of bark and mud, backed by the trickling of puddles. He was glad that Natalie would not have to brave these conditions. The rain was not as vicious as it could have been, as per thunderstorms if the time of year was conducive for them, but it would be long-lived. All throughout the night and into the morning, perhaps. The wind would blow swaths of water about, spraying across woodland and streets alike. The firelight of Brodudika may full well be extinguished when Desrium returned to the city gates. It was one of those nights that he hoped no one would be outside. Ideally the struggle for Brodudika would continue when those grasping at its future did not run the risk of falling deathly ill.

A setback on the eve of acceleration and escalation; so many things were coinciding with one another. Fate's gears were practically grinding, a sound that fell on the deaf ears of Leyuna. The familiar feeling that something was coming his way stayed with Desrium long after the incomplete walls showed themselves from the shadows and rainfall, purple banner undulating in the damp breeze.

It was during these times that Desrium assumed his station at the top floor of city hall and looked out of his window, meditating on things to come. Planning for things to come.

[The Kingpin]

Beshayir spent that night huddled against Ceridwen's side, propped up just enough that she could see the elementals going about their elemental ways. The arrival of another newcomer to the den had gone mostly unnoticed by the elf, sleepy after the taxing events of the day.

Ceridwen had shown some mild curiosity in Natalie when she'd arrived, but out of a fear of seeming impolite, she averted her attention away and focused on rest. All the while, the crackling of living flames, tumbling of living stone and splash of living water contributed to the surreal yet soothing soundscape that lulled the pair to sleep.



Septimus approached the location of the Two Cities early the next morning, his vigilant eyes scanning across the massive mound of splintered shale and pulverised granite that had once been a fantastical centre of interest and industry, where magic and technology went hand in hand, and where one old drake had once carved himself a shelter from the whims and worries of the harsh world outside.

To see it in such a state pained the Son of Storms to no small degree, knowing of the friends he'd made and subsequently lost to the whims of something inexplicably powerful and aimlessly destructive.

Aimlessly. That remained to be seen.

With the red sun steadily ascending into the morning sky, he began his descent in turn to the earth below, his vast wings casting shadows over once lush earth turned dead by the harshness of winter. He noted, with a measure of interest, that the path Desrium and his flock had taken out of there was still visible. It was nowhere near uniform enough to be called footprints in the soil, but the path they had carved had remained intact over the past months, even despite the occasional falling and melting of the winter snows.

What significance was there in the elementals' presence there? Why did so many, of such varied natures, end up in one place? What potential story was there to be found here, that could bring reason and order out of what seemed to be chaos?

It remained to be seen.

[C S]

The previously flush fabric of a satchel's flap ruffled from the motions underneath it and the disturbance of the Scholar's wake in the air. Syria pushed her head up to widen the seam of the partially opened bag, and her eyes peered over the lip. Septimus hadn't kept the walls transparent for this outing. The reason for that was self-evident in their grim purpose. It was not an occasion that begot the desire of a view. Nevertheless, in that unintuitively human way, Syria would not let tragedy be censored.

That was her idea, unconsciously so, when she climbed the shelves to look out. Shortly after exposing her eyes to the cold morning air, the rush of flight, Syria recoiled and rubbed the tears from them. Not tears of sadness, but the result of the wind. "Good one, Letant," she chastised herself with a dry tone inside her head. Syria pulled down the lenses from her hat and tried again. With the screen of glass protecting her gaze, she was able to see clearly the brim of the rocky pit that fell away from the surrounding tree cover. And to think, somewhere past the brown shades and stubborn, cold-resistant green, there was a stretch of Aster that defied belief. More so than the average amount of wonder that their world had to offer.

Not the right kind of wonder for what they were looking after.