Once were Princes

The two elves set out on a quest, under the guise of Dáire escorting Raen to an ancient city of the Elves, for an ages old ritual that he must attend.

Tviyr was the first boundary to be created when Fellsgard was freed from Bhelest. There is a diverse magnitude of adventurers that trek through this countryside. Decorated with grassland, coastline, forest, and jungle, it's quite the vision. Read more...
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Dáire
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Once were Princes

Post by Dáire »

Dáire was a little more than confused as he watched both Artemis and Kat leave the Quimellë’s office, leaving him alone with the two imposing elders. A cold sense of anticipation rolled over him, his mind scrabbling for anything he could have done wrong. Were they that upset that they’d pulled Artemis into the fold? Surely not. They’d just brought him into their family.

“We have another job for you Nuinë.” Auraes’ calm but penetrating voice had him crashing back into the room, pulling his attention to the pair of intense brown eyes that watched him. Too closely for his comfort. Élara just stood by Auraes’ side, a silent century watching over the whole spectacle, allowing her Cáno to take charge. Their Cáno. He nodded silently, acknowledging her words.

“We have received news from northern Tviyr,” She began matter of factly, her eyes still pinning him in place, “That the houses of old wish to perform an ages old ritual, that belonged to the old kingdom.” He nodded his understanding, wondering why he was being told more than a contract usually divulged - which would be the bare minimum requirements for him to carry out the job. “In order for them to do this, they require the blessing of the three main elven houses, but since the fall of the Elven royalty, curtesy of Bhelest of course.” He could see the old sorrow bleed into her earthy eyes, dulling the usually vibrant hues. “One of those nobles worked with us for many years, worked with you in fact. Raelin Silver.” She declared in an illustrious tone of voice

Dáire’s face went slack with shock, his mind struggling to grasp the revelation that had just been dropped at his feet. The man had been someone Dáire had looked up to, they had indeed worked together on some contracts, never would he have guessed the man to be one of noble blood though. He'd been so honourable, normal, a good man.“But Raelin’s dead?” He said, instantly berating himself for stating the obvious. They’d all been torn about his disappearance, assumed death. No more than … no more than ... “Raen.” He all but breathed out, the lines of Aurae mouth curving slightly, forming the ghost of a sad smile.

“Yes Nuinë, we need to you escort our young bard to Órlbelle.” She said it with such a straight face that Dáire glanced to Élara, expecting to see wry humour on her face but it too was serious. He raised a brow questioningly at them both. “Órlbelle is an old myth Cáno, the city used in the high tales we tell to the younglings, are you saying it once existed?” The city had been one of legend, the strong hold and centre of the Elven life many thousands of years ago, no one of recent times had been able to find it. A trick of the mists, an apparition in the distance caused by residual magic that still lingered on the lands after the ravishing of the war but never a real place. Those that swore they had once walked the streets were written off as having had their minds scrambled by Bhelest’s magic during the war, the notion that it was real seemed strange. Why would it have been hidden from the general population? How had they hidden it from humans? A multitude of questions battered him. How much of what he knew of the elves, was simply not true?

“Why does Almá Raen need my escort Cáno? The road may be long but one such as Raen shouldn’t need someone like myself by his side.”

Aurae shot a pensive look at Élara, who solemnly nodded her head in supposed encouragement for the Cáno to continue. “We have reason to believe, an unknown faction does not wish for the ritual to take place and that – well we believe Raelin’s death may have been orchestrated by this faction. We do not wish to endanger or risk losing Almá Raen to the same people. That is why we will insist that you lead him through the forests, and the long roads to Órlbelle.”

His gaze remained transfixed on his Cáno, the implications were serious. His friend had essentially been assassinated, and he’d known nothing about it. So saying, if he had, he was sure Aurae and Élara both knew had he known their suspicions, he would have tried to flush out and hunt the coward to the ends of their world. Raelin had been family. "Why must he attend Cáno? The ways of old are dead, it seems an unnecessary risk." Although if there were those around set on ensuring it did not occur, there must be more to it. "Some traditions are worth keeping alive Nuinë"

“I accept the honour Cáno, Quimellë.” He dropped his chin in deference to his two elders, “If there is nothing else?”

Aurae slide him a pouch that contained several pieces of parchment as he made to leave the office. “Maps and any further information we believe relevant. Do not let anyone but you and Almá Raen see those.” Nodding he turned on his heel and slipped out the door. Passing an ever confident Raen in the halls as he headed towards his quarters, ready to pack and get his affairs in order before the long trek was to begin.
Word count: 913
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Raen Silver
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Re: Once were Princes

Post by Raen Silver »

"I'm a what?" Raen sat in Elára's office, sitting across from the Quimellë.

The severe woman regarded him with a steady gaze. As always, she was the picture of pure composure. Her back straight, she was as still as a hawk watching her prey. But this time, her eyes weren't so hard. "You are an Arato," she repeated. "The heir to your house."

Raen's brow was furrowed with confusion. When he had been summoned, he had just assumed he was in some sort of trouble ... like usual. But now Elária was talking nonsense, calling him an 'Arato', an old Kerasoka word for 'High Lord'. "I'm a bard! And I'm not some highborn ... I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about, Quimellë ... with respect." He added, hastily

"Your father, Realin, was Arato of House Silver, one of the three main noble houses of the northern Kersoka Elves, before the fall of the Elven Kingdoms to the Great Wars."

"My father was a drunk and a fool," Raen said, shaking his head. What was happening?! "He died on a contract." He and his father had arrived in Fellsguard when Raen was barely old enough to walk. A year later, Raelin had taken a contract which had seen him go off and never return. The Kelbé had sent out a scout, but all they brought back was his bow, something that Raen now kept in his room, out of sight.

"You shouldn't speak so." Elára said, though not harshly. "There is much you do not know, much we have withheld from you, so that you might be protected."

"Protected?" Raen groaned and slouched back in his seat. "None of this makes any sense."

The Quimellë let loose a small sigh. "Raen; we believe your father was the victim of assassination. We should have told you sooner ... some of us wanted to. But we thought those days were long gone. But it seems otherwise. Dáire has been named Ta-Aryon, Heir to the House of Elvalur, and has been summoned to complete a ritual to make that law. It is said that one day, he, or one of his descendants, will become the Aran {king} or maybe there'll be a Tari {queen}. It is the destiny of the Elvalur House to rule once again, unifying the Elves that scattered through the world after the wars."

Raen groaned. "I tell less elaborate tales on the stage!" He said. There was no hint of excitement or wonder in his voice, it all seemed so ridiculous. So Dáire was a prince, last of a ruling noble house, summoned to do some kind of ritual ... "Well, what does that have to do with me?"

"You should take this more seriously, Raen." She said

Raen snorted. It was all just so ridiculous. "Shouldn't you be calling me 'my lord' or something?"

Elára's eyes narrowed. "Don't be impertinent, child." She warned. "And were we in a noble court, you would be referred to as a 'lord', but you're not. Besides, I myself served the Royal Family, as an Enda." Her chin seemed to lift a little aa she said the title, the translation roughly being 'advisor to the crown'. "I would have outranked you, in terms of position, if not by my social standing."

Raen took a breath. "Okay ... fine. I'm an Arato. What does that even mean now that the Elves don't have kingdoms any more? And what is it to me if Nuinë Dáire is being summoned? Why did I need to know this?"

Elára sat forward. "Listen to me carefully. If Dáire is to lay claim to the Rié ...the crown, that is, then he must have the blessings of all three Elven Houses, specifically from the heads of these houses. Since House Silver was one of the three most powerful houses back when the Kingdom still existed, and you are the heir to it, then you must go with him to complete the ritual."

Raen shook his head. "Not a chance."

The Elven woman raised a brow.

"You can't expect me to go along with all of this, do you? It's nonsense! Human's rule Tviyr now. And the last Silver who ventured out was murdered, apparently. I prefer to be amongst the living."

Elára fixed him with her infamous steel gaze. "It is not a request; Aurae herself has ordered this, and Dáire has accepted. You will assist your prince; it is your duty."

Raen let his head fall back, hitting the chair and closed his eyes. He couldn't refuse an order from Elára, and most definitely not from Canó Aurae! But he was not the adventuring sort! He preferred warm beds to tents and campfires. And being on the road with Dáire ... who not only outranked him in the Kelbé, but now was a prince? And heir to the crown? He let out a long groan. "I don't like this."

"Nor I," she said, surprising him. "But duty must be done." She hesitated for a moment. ”There is one more thing: Dáire has not been told that it is he who is the focus of all of this. As far as he knows, he will be escorting you, otherwise we wouldn’t get him there in the first place.”

Raen looked up at her, as if she were mad. ”Are you saying he has no idea? About being the heir ... the Tar-Aryon?”

“You catch on quick.” She said, dryly.

Raen sat up in his seat. “And what happens when we get there and all is revealed? And that everyone has been lying to him? Even me! He’ll put an arrow through my heart!”

Elára tutted. “He will do no such thing. And it will be made clear to him that the deception was not of your choosing, but you were following orders and a most ancient tradition. He will respect it.”

Will he?” Raen scoffed. “So, while we are on this journey, he thinks that he is escorting me, an Arator, heir to an Elven Noble House, to some secret gathering? Am I to act the lord while all of this is happening?”

Elára raised a brow. “Your acting skills will come in quite useful. You will act accordingly, and you will respect this process. Aurae commands it. Should you feel any desire to question her authority on this … don’t.” She warned him.

The thought of crossing the Canó was not something he could even consider; Aurae had ruled over her own little kingdom ever since he was a little boy. It would never occur to him to question those that out-ranked him. But how was he to reconcile the fact that Dáire was above him in the Kelbé, but was to act as if he were an Elven lord who outranked the ranger?

The young Elf dragged himself to his feet, and gave the woman a nod in respect, though he had never looked so glum. "I’ll do as I’m told, Quimellë. He said, and left the room to do as he was bid.

When the door closed, Elára took her seat and thought for a while. What was she sending these two into? The traditions meant little in today’s world, a product of a time before Belhest and the great wars. She couldn’t doubt Aurae; her closest friend and her Canó. But she feared for the Almá and the Nuinë all the same.

“Dáire Elvalur,” she said aloud. “Tar-Aryon of the Kerasoka … heir to the Rié, if the crown had even survived these long years.” She sighed and opened one of her many large books. “Eidolons watch over them.” She muttered.


***

Raen gathered some belongings. Elára had told him about Órlbelle, but since he had little skill in map-reading or such, it would all be on Dáire to get the two of them there safely. The elder had told them there were still people who opposed the ritual, though for what reasons she did not know.

Knocking on Dáire’s door, he took a deep breath. He lied for a living, but this was different; it was huge!

”Suil Nuinë,” he said, trying to keep up appearances by grinning widely. ”It looks like we’re going on a grand adventure! I wonder … should you bow to me? No? Alright then! What’s the plan?”
Word count: 1409
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Dáire
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Re: Once were Princes

Post by Dáire »

“Suil, Lassë Raen. Or should that be Arato Raen now?” A lazy smile gracing his normally stern face , Dáire was somewhat surprised to find the young bard at his door and struggled to hide it, even more so when he seemed to babble? “Are you ok Raen? I know your mouth has a habit of running away with you but you seem … jittery.” He looked the bard up and down curiously, the huge grin was easily the mans’ best mask but it made it hard to tell when it was genuine. Maybe it was just being around him that did it or the prospect of just how long he'd be around Dáire.

“The plan is to get us some mounts on the outskirts of the city, ride them as far as the roads permit and make the remainder of the journey on foot.” Dáire mentally walked the paths in his head, he’d travelled many of the roads numerous times over his two centuries, but this time it would take him uncomfortably close to the place he had once considered his home. He winced at the memories that still caused shame to rise within him in a cresting wave. Mentally shaking it off, he returned his attention to Raen.“ All while trying to keep you safe and to arrive there in one piece,” He gave the elf a weak smile. He prayed no one knew of their journey, Aurae had assured him that the whole ordeal was very secret, no one that was not directly connected knew it was to occur, but he knew that snakes lay in every nest. It was unlikely that they wouldn’t meet trouble somewhere along the road. He suspected it may come later in their journey though, when the forest became thicker and more difficult to remain vigilant. When he would be tired from travel, less alert and more likely to make mistakes.

“Ready for an adventure young Arato?” he smirked, not really expecting the man to have been out of the city before, despite who his father was. Gathering the remaining items as swiftly as he could and stuffing them into another satchel. He hastily ushered the bard out of his quarters, locking the door and leading them towards the stables on the outskirts of the city. Dáire wasn't a talker, he never had been and he felt somewhat awkward now, knowing the Raen was probably his opposite in may ways. Raen was a lord, an Arato for one. He found himself shaking his head, a wry smile spreading as he coursed the streets in the pleasantly warming midday sun, trusting the bard would follow and keep pace.
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Raen Silver
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Re: Once were Princes

Post by Raen Silver »

Raen pulled a face. "I hate horseback riding ... and I hate walking ... and anything else that doesn't involve sitting down with a pretty maid or playing my lute."

When he had gathered his things, he had strapped the lute across his back. He was a bard before he was some kind of Elven Cundu, and he would be damned if he was going to be leaving it behind!

"So, what did you get told about our mission? Oh, and from what I was told, it might be better if you hold off on calling me that title out loud, Nuiné; being an Arato was the reason my father died!" He tried to sound flippant about it, but there was a shadow on his eyes as he spoke of his father, the man who had gone out on a contract when Raen was just a child and had never returned.

They arrived at the stables, and Raen let Dáire do the talking. All he added was: "Get me a placid one ... and also one that is pretty. I reckon I will look rather dashing atop a horse!"

"How much do you know about this ancient kingdom?" He whispered. "I have a few tales that deal with such a thing, but I had no idea one still survived ... in theory, anyway."
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Re: Once were Princes

Post by Dáire »

The smile about the riding comment was wiped from his face, as Dáire didn’t fail to miss the look that passed over the young elf’s face as he tried to casually brush off the sting mentioning his father brought on, he felt like kicking himself for being that insensitive. Deciding it was probably best ot leave that hurt well alone, he thought about the young bards question. He was curious why he was asking, “Only that you are required in the back end of no where for a gathering of some manner, and that I am to act as escort and protector along the way should we meet some unsavoury folk.”

He eyed Raen speculatively. He may be an ostentatious sort, but he was far from stupid and he doubted there wasn't a reason for the question. Brushing any further thoughts that tried to weasel their way in on the matter, they soon arrived at the stables on the outskirts of the city. The structure was sprawling, the smells of hay, horse and man hung heavily in the crisp morning air. Voices rumbled with the horses anticipatory whickers, the grooms scurrying around to tend to the animals needs. Strolling along one of the barns, he came across just the man he was looking for.

The current head groom was a stocky man, only about 5’8 and built like a brick house. His thin lips and bushy mustache stretching into a warm grin as he watched the two tall, leanly muscled elves approaching him. He’d aged considerably since he’d last seen him Dáire noted, deep lines had begun to form around the mans mouth and eyes, a telling sign just how much time the man spent smiling at people. Smiling back he grasped forearms with the much smaller and more muscled man, making sure to brace himself as the man dragged him into a resemblance of an embrace.

“It’s been some time my boy!” The older man exclaimed, gazing fondly up at Dáire, as though their ages were reversed.

“Time flies when you’re having fun, Torvo.” He replied cordially, returning the mans warm smile.

“Ah that it does! What can I help you with today son?”

Dáire briefly outlined their needs in regards to horses, the stables kept a few larger horses on the possibility the elves were by, of course some humans just liked to ride horses much to large for them. It had always baffled him really. If they fell off on the road, they could never get back on. Both he and Torvo chuckled at Raens input to the conversation. He wasn't about to tell him that he, of all elves, would probably look ‘dashing’, as he put it, upon any horse.

He’d been expecting Raen to ask him more about the supposed kingdom they were to visit. Being honest with himself, he would have thought he’d know more as well given his age. Maybe if he’d spent more time around others, exchanging stories such as Raen did he may have made better use of his years, but alas, this past month was the most social he been in well over a century.

“I have heard around about, a few tales of the times before Bhelest, when we still wielded magic and the elves weren’t divided. Such kingdoms I haven’t hear much about, the hidden city I believed to be a fairy tale. My sisters loved to have my mother tell them all the stories about it. How the extensive streets were made of soft sand stone, appearing warm and inviting even in the midst of a winter frost. The cobbled roads that lead to the towering white arches, of the palace that sat nestled at the base of an imposing mountain, elevated and looking out upon the lands and bay far in the distance. The market square and its elaborate sculptures of Hero’s of ages gone; it all seemed too far gone from what I knew as a boy, to take too seriously. A place of myth and wishful dreams. Which was why I think my siblings had mother retell them the story so often.”

He could envisage their faces so clearly, their small family all tucked up within the modest cottage in which they lived, his sisters eager expressions and his mothers ever indulgent and compassionate manner, as she retold them the same story, for what could have been the several hundredth time.

“I would be interested to know what you may have learnt though; for I suspect what I heard then may be nothing more that Fae tales. I have spent much of my time avoiding people. So I have not exchanged much in the way of stories, other than that of which I may have over heard inadvertently.”

They were only waiting only a brief amount of time before they were both on the road, horses laden with their supplies and eagerly marching along the dirt road heading east.
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Raen Silver
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Re: Once were Princes

Post by Raen Silver »

Raen listened as Dáire spoke of the old kingdom, his brow raised as they rode. "And I thought it was I who was the story-teller, here! You spin quite a tale, Nuiné! I suppose all the elven kingdoms would have been beautiful and majestic, or at least that's how they are told."

He shifted atop his horse, grimacing a little as he could feel the muscles in his legs being stretched. "I am going to be as sore as all hell, by tomorrow, I just know it." He patted the horse's neck as they moved, though. "But you are a beauty.

When Dáire asked him what he knew, Raen hesitated. He was supposed to keep Dáire's identity a secret ... Raen might be an Arato, and thus be a target for anyone who wanted to stop the ritual, but if the same people were to simply tale out Dáire - the Tar-Aryon - then all the better! "All I know is that because of some ancient custom that I am the last remaining member of my house, which happened to be a noble house, at that!" He stuck to flippancy, his best defence. "That my father was the heir to the house, and when he died, I became the heir ... and no on thought to tell me right up until now!" He shook his head. "I rather think they did so because they thought I wouldn't be able to keep my mouth shut! Well, I may delight in making grand claims about myself, but I m hardly going to risk and arrow in the throat for the sake of an empty title upheld by a small group of elves who want to continue living in the glory days before The War."

Raen mused on that as they spoke. "You'd think the Cáno and Quimellë would have come with us; they seem to have held quite high positions in this mysterious kingdom? But no! They send just the two of us out into the wilderness with huge targets on our backs ... well, my back ... being a lord, and everything." He had to remember that as far as Dáire was concerned, the older elf was simply a bodyguard, and not the heir to the crown.

"They did tell me the name of this kingdom, though; Órlbelle - City of the Veil ... sufficiently mysterious, I am sure you'll agree. I have heard the name in a song or two, but just assumed it was like the rest of the nations and such before the war; completely gone. This whole thing ... doesn't it feel rather pointless to you?"

The first day came to a close, and Raen did his best to help set up camp; but wasn't much good at anything, really. He did as he was told, but it was painfully obvious that the lad had never slept out under the stars before, and he complained the entire time. When they had finally eaten, and Raen had (as instructed) brushed down the horses, thr young elf pulled his blanket close around him and stared into the gloom. What would Dáire do when he found out that Raen knew of his past all along? Should he defy the orders of Aurae and Elára and simply tell him? Surely he had a right to know.

It was something he would have to think on, but for now he kept the counsel secret. He was also completely worn out; horseback riding took its toll, and he was soon fast asleep.
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Re: Once were Princes

Post by Vanessa LaNore »

Vanessa awoke just after sunrise, the light reflecting off the neighboring shop already beginning to tickle at her eyes. She groaned, stretching in her bed slowly to work the kinks from her tired muscles. The magic always took its toll on her frail form, no matter how much she trained and practiced weaving the mystic threads. After several satisfying pops and a few shakes of her legs, she hopped from her simple bed. Her uncle allowed her to stay without rent, asking only that she worked in the shop from time to time. Even at the low price of a little time, the accommodations were spartan.

She moved to her small wallside cabinet, fetching a sachet of tea leaves and her favored ceramic mug. She called it Chippy for its series of small chips and scratches. She felt no rush, as she could still sense Kip was following Bard Raen, and that the elf remained well inside the city walls. Taking her tea leaves, she slipped quietly downstairs to the private kitchen and fetched a pot to boil. The fire worked to warm the chill water, and Vanessa tilted her neck around, working the muscles slowly to release the last hints of tension.

The waters began to bubble, and the summoner considered her prospects. 'Kips still around, if they haven't left yet it's either in the city proper, or it's a long way away. Best to pack for a trip, no sense in roughing more than I need,' she decided after several considerations flitted through her thoughts. With this in mind, she moved to gather several small bags of provisions. With her magic, a handful of food could last a day. It wasn't pleasing, but it would give her all she'd need.

She'd taken advantage of this for many long treks into the deep wilds with various guides. The hired rangers always gave her a chuckle, saying it was better to hunt a bit than live on nuts and berries, but Vanessa found it better to hedge her bets than rely on the land. Her water began to boil, and she rushed over to lift it from the fire. With casual motion borne of a decade of practice, she poured the boiling water into her ceramic mug. Filling it to just beneath the brim. "Faegrass and Firsprig to greet the chill day, Chippy," she mumbled to the mug, mimicking her mother's habit of announcing the drink as it steeped.

While the tea rested, she moved about the room gathering her equipment and supplies. She assumed she wouldn't be going into the jungles, so she instead packed for a fall trek through the plains and forests. If they traveled far enough, she'd use her abilities to summon a mount. Her only real concern was catching Kip before his power faded completely. The poor spirit would forget everything he'd seen if she didn't either fill him with more power or allow him to rest properly.

Finally finished with her pack, she dropped it to the floor gently beside the table before picking up her steaming cup of tea. She likely had time to enjoy, and her uncle would never forgive her if she didn't at least leave a note. Her drink in one hand she used the other to deftly scrawl a quick letter to the kind man.

Gone on an adventure with an elf bard.
Likely be back before the snows start to truly fall.
Here's my contribution to the interesting trinkets fund.

Vanessa


She smiled as she placed two silvers on the parchment. Her uncle always kept a keen eye out for things of magical or historic value. He'd taken to having her drop off coins in advance rather than waiting months simply to get a return on his purchases. With a final sip and sigh of satisfaction, Vanessa stood and washed her favorite mug before neatly placing it in the cabinet. "Stay safe chippy, I'll bring back more interesting things to fill you with soon," she said to the ceramic as part of her leaving ritual.

The last pieces of equipment she collected were a set of reinforced cloth with only a few touches of leather and a heavy cloak with an intricate pattern of branches and leaves across its dark green fabric. She tucked the cloak over her heavy pack and tightened the straps and bindings of her simple armor. Giving herself a look, she nodded before stepping out the door into the chilly autumn morning.

As the heavy door of the private quarters closed behind her, she turned to place a hand on the faded wood. "I leave now, to travel the realm, and gather my stories. Keep the hearth warm and the water hot, that I might return to tell you of them," she said, before turning away from the building and making her way out into the broad streets of Fellsgard.



Vanessa frowned as she shielded her eyes to look out eastward over the open plains. Raen, and whoever might be with him, were at least an hour or two away by now, likely atop good horses given how far Kip seemed to be. She'd walked out of the city on foot, making her way to the northeast to get far enough from the main road that she could complete her summoning uninterrupted. The guards and common folk tended to get pitchforking if you popped a horse from the beyond in front of them.

With a nod, she dropped her pack and closed her eyes before reaching into the knot of weaving magics inside her. There was the scent of mud, the rustle of tall grass, and the sound of the wind whipping through the land. A series of clopping thumps resounded ahead of Vanessa, and she opened her eyes to smile at the already tacked and saddled steed.

"Hello friend, we've got many hours of rolling plains to ride across. I hope I am not keeping you from too much fun," she said as she gently pat the animal's neck. With quick motions, she secured her pack and then used a practiced hop to mount the beast. The animal responded eagerly to her guiding, and she started a slow rolling canter towards the main road. It wouldn't do to leap over walls or go traipsing through farm fields. "I promise you we can beat the wind once we've passed these farms," she said, leaning down to speak to the steed. It whinnied in response and quickened its pace eagerly.



The stars were just beginning to sparkle in the sky when Kip started getting closer to Vanessa very quickly. She imagined the Bard and whatever companions he had were making an early evening. She urged her mount onward, the animal shaking in excitement at another opportunity to run freely. 'Should stop around an hour away, let Kip come over and get the details while I prepare my bed,' she thought as she stood in her stirrups to absorb the long strides of her summoned horse.

Kip answered her tug of command eagerly, zipping across the space from the elf camp to her small bedroll and lean-to. She held her hand out for the spirit cat, and he coiled around her with loud purrs of pleasure before popping out of invisibility. Vanessa stroked her companions head gently and whispered her thanks to the spirit.

"You've done well, my friend. I know not how many days we will travel, but I trust you to keep a keen eye for me," she said before scratching roughly behind Kip's ears. "Now show me what you've seen, and tell me what you've heard. I have stories to chronicle," she added before nestling the spirit cat into her lap and slowly stroking him as her sight faded into its memories.
Word count: 1301
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Dáire
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Re: Once were Princes

Post by Dáire »

Dáire found himself holding back an uncharacteristic laugh as he listened to Raen, “You, not hold your tongue? I wonder what gave anyone that idea. I remember you as a child, no one could shut you up.” He groaned quietly, easily picturing the jabbering boy that he’d only met a few times, the young boy rushing around The Hart as he’d popped in for contracts the odd week or two, he was in the area. “I do suppose the threat of death may have held your tongue though.”

He had thought it peculiar that Elara and Aurae hadn’t joined them. By the sounds of it, they had been fairly important to the old royalty of Órlbelle and would have normally been obliged to attend. “Don’t worry youngin’” He smirked over at Raen as the continued down yet another dirt road, “I’ll keep your little pretty self safe.”

Órlbelle. He had heard the name more than once over his lifetime, although like Raen, he hadn’t really thought it still existed - if it ever had; despite his mother's stories of the lost city. “I guess the elders still believe it's worth the effort. Don't tell Cano or I may be forced to do something unpleasant; but i agree with you, it is rather pointless but what else would we be doing?” he eyed the other elf, amused as the younger man squirmed again in his saddle and probably wishing he could be anywhere else at this point in time.

Raen looked increasingly uncomfortable in the saddle as the day dragged on, Dáire was no stranger to traveling in such a manner; resulting in only a minor weariness to begin plaguing him when they pulled off the well-worn path for the night. They’d finally cleared the rolling pastures and meadows of the farmland that surround Fellsgard, the forest beyond that had started out with the trees sparsely placed, making navigating them easy for the pair and their mounts. Now, the trees were significantly denser, the worn dirt path the only safe and guaranteed way to navigate the horses through the tangle of trunks and shrubs.

All too soon, Dáire was reminded just why he made a point to work and travel alone; unless it really couldn’t be avoided. Raen, despite being essentially considered kin through The Hart, was a typical city boy. Dáire found himself gritting his teeth so hard on occasion, that it was a wonder they didn’t crack under the pressure. Raen moaned about this, and then about that, and again about something else totally inconsequential. Dáire wasn't known to be a patient man even on his good days, never mind when he was tired, only one day into an expedition, and already wanting to strangle his charge who stood oblivious but a few yards away from him.

He sent a scathing glare in Raens direction while giving him something to do in the hope to distract him, but the elf either didn’t see it or just ignored the dangerous look. It didn't take them long to set up their simple camp, the ‘tent’ was modest such as it was but watertight, should the ever-changeable weather around here turn against them, at least they’d have something to sit beneath. They ate some pre packed rations before settling down for the night around the small fire in the centre of their camp. The cool autumn air was bracing, threatening the bite of frost in the not too distant future. Pulling the thick blanket firmly around his shoulders, he propped himself against the hollow of a tree trunk, his bow and daggers within easy grasp should he need them. “I’ll take first watch.” He said over to Raen’s slender form, that had just curled up on his bed roll in a manner that reminded him so much of a large cat.

***

Unsurprisingly, Raen had plenty to complain about the following morning, all the muscles he’d worked yesterday were undoubtedly barking in protest at him. They ate, repacked their meagre camp and headed out for another long days trailing through the woods. They followed the same routine for what surely felt like endless days to Raen, the only variation being what game Dáire hunted for their meals on any given day. Variety was a nice thing he thought, maybe Raen didn't see eye to eye on that though; often he dragged the younger man along with him, unwilling to allow him to drift out of sight. When the forest became too difficult to navigate on horseback, they left the horses in a small village, paying a farmer handsomely to care for the animals in their absence.

The trek on foot was much harder on the two men than the previous block of days had been. The terrain varied between steep hills, the ground slippery underfoot and coupled with foot grabbing roots, resulting in several near misses for both men, and rambling trails through the huge tree trunks. Dáire became ever edgier as he began to recognise much of the forest, they drifted through one particular day, his mind playing tricks on him as he saw flashes of figures in the morning mists and voices echoing around him. He knew it wasn't real, but it didn't stop his body's unmistakable reaction to them. When Raen looked as though he may comment, he caught himself snarling an indiscernible word at the elf, which luckily seemed to keep the inquisitive youth from pressing the matter.

The map they had been given, was not the most accurate Dáire soon came to realise. He had thought they should have been there by now, but all he saw were more towering trees in all directions as they headed towards the crest of another ‘hill’; by now they felt more like mini mountains to the travel weary pair. Bright sunshine broke through the canopy above them, pebbling them in its soft heat as they rounded over the lip of the hill. Both stopped in their tracks, Daire could feel the hum of magic that was like a pulsating wall before them, it vibrated the fine hairs on his arms as he took the first step through it. What met his eyes on the other side, was something he never imagined could exist, for it hadn’t been visible a mere step earlier either. Down in the valley below them, backing against the mountain range to the west, erupted a multitude towers, the stark white stone bouncing the waning afternoon light back out across the landscape. The city before it sprawled out in seemingly disorderly streets; tall, elegant trees growing up from within and lending it a quality that Dáire hadn’t thought possible in a city. Slacked jawed, he turned to look at Raen, but the words seemed to get caught in his throat for several moments.

“Some part of me thought - that they were maybe, just sending us on a wild hunt,” He mumbled, turning back to gaze at the view before them. A tall wall seemed to encase the city, a small winding road visible and leading up to what could only be a gate. “I didn't really expect it to be real; definitely not as the stories described it either.”


He stood in awe for an uncertain amount of time, taking in all the details his sharp elven eyes allowed him to. The sandstone homes and buildings, the graceful arches and bridges that were scattered throughout, all structures now less pristine than the stories painted them as. Various new, brightly coloured flags and banners hung throughout the streets, the designs and meanings however, unintelligible from their current position.

Stiffly, he managed to get himself in motion once more, drifting down the hillside until Órlbelle once again disappeared behind the canopy of the forest once more.
Last edited by Dáire on November 9th, 2019, 8:17 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Word count: 1322
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Fëanáro Larkain
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Spirit of Fire
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Re: Once were Princes

Post by Fëanáro Larkain »

Farro lounged languidly atop the striking sand stone wall that encased the old city. Soft autumn sunlight silhouetting him amidst the towering city sky line that lay behind. To an onlooker, he would appear as any other young, spoilt elven brat that deigned to call the city home; and that was exactly his intent. Casually he picked at the imaginary dirt below his perfectly rendered finger nails, the hood of his ornately embroidered cloak hanging listlessly around his sharp featured face. Despite the outward air he gave, Farro was on the hunt.

Sharp eyes, almost golden in their hue, watched the road and the strangers now entering the old city. He had a brief, but concise description on some of his targets; the main focus of his agenda however? Zilch. Farro felt itchy with inactivity as he waited, very possibly in vain. How was he supposed to work, if he didn’t know who it was, he was looking out for? He’d said as much to his employer but they hadn’t provided much more help, other than he was an elf with black hair. How many elves passing below him fitted that description? Many, and he knew there’d be plenty more to pass by the time the day was out.

Giving into his body’s restlessness, he sprung to his feet with cat like grace. Sauntering along the wide wall, an air of arrogance following in his wake as he stared down upon those on the road. It was essential he stayed in character. Many wandering eyes landed upon him, as he crossed the arching gateway that lead to the maze of cobbled streets beyond. Farro eyes were sharp, scanning each and every face, looking down his nose at them and giving the sense of enough bravado, that he could have been the prince they were all eager to see.

His charade went on for several more hours, pushing Farro’s patience and commitment to the limits. Two of the nobles on his list had already passed through the gates, but as they had siblings, they weren't his primary targets. The sun was just disappearing behind the mountain range to their west, and Farro was close to calling it a night, when the family famous head of silver hair slipped into view. The light, glossy strands throwing the weakening light off and giving it an almost metallic appearance, the man himself lean and classically handsome for one of their kind. With him, supposedly his bodyguard he mused; was a taller man of similar lean but more honed build, the man’s dark hair shrouding his face in shadow as he prowled ever closer to the city, controlled menace in every line of his lithe form. The Arato followed closely, both men keeping a sharp eye on their surroundings in the now much emptier road.

Farro’s eyes glittered in anticipation, as he himself dropped off the tall wall silently and into shadows on the far side, lying in wait for the men to pass by and lead him to their lodgings.
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Vanessa LaNore
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Seeker of Legends
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Re: Once were Princes

Post by Vanessa LaNore »

Vanessa was terribly grumpy when she got the first mental nudge from Kip. The pursuit of the elves had stretched from days into weeks. Just over two by her count, though things had gotten slightly fuzzy moving through the woods. It seemed the elves had left their mounts behind some days back, but she was able to simply summon or dismiss her own as necessary.As such, she imagined Raen was rather worse for wear than her. Despite this, it took another two insistent mental nudges before she shook herself from distraction and responded. She slid from her summoned mount and sat against a tree.

Settled safely where she wouldn’t crash into something or fall to the ground, Vanessa pushed her mind outwards. She could feel the thread of magic connecting her to her distant companion. She traced it, stretching her senses and pushing carefully onward. Suddenly, and with a disorienting shift of perspective, she was inside her companion. She could see, feel, hear, and even smell everything as if she were Kip himself. What she saw and felt shocked her far more than riding in a body she didn’t control.

There were ruins, ancient Elven ones made of glistening stone that shimmered with magics. There were also Elves, maybe two dozen of them but of both races. She could see the magic-touched Lumeacia and the Kerasoka spread around a large pillar of rock. Then she felt her vision drift down to encompass Raen and some other large Kerasokan elf she didn’t know. There was no way she’d be able to hide herself any closer to these ancient magic users, but she also wasn’t going to let an opportunity to witness whatever this was slip by.

Vanessa dismissed her summoned mount without leaving Kip’s senses. Then she readied herself to guide the cat spirit’s attentions. She needed to capture every detail, every motion, all without endangering her friend. Everything Kip saw, heard, or felt could be examined later as long as he escaped successfully.
Word count: 341
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