|
Post by darinder on Oct 25, 2010 18:52:51 GMT -5
For almost two full tendays, a lone figure may have been seen at various points along the riverbank - he's easily spotted in his elegant teal and white robes. Not so unusual in and of itself. However...
This elderly male figure appears seemingly from nowhere each dawn and disappears just as mysteriously each evening. An observer might assume the aged Elf is using a Teleport spell to travel but said observer would likely then wonder why the wanderer does not use that same spell to move himself to his final destination - rather than search as he does...
For searching he appears to be. Each mid-morning, the wanderer pauses in his steps and places a small earthenware pot he carries gently upon the ground. He then proceeds to give the small cutting contained in that pot a light dusting of water.
He then performs what appears to be a ritual; taking from a pouch a tiny needle with a fine silver-coloured thread attached to it. Holding the thread between his right thumb and forefinger, arcane words are quietly uttered in his native tongue as he concentrates watching the swinging needle suspended now before his face.
This ritual is also performed late each afternoon, after having walked some distance from his morning locale. Each evening, his final act before again disappearing mysteriously is to tenderly collect his earthenware pot and the budding plant it contains.
...
On the nineteenth day, things change as he approaches the ferrymen outside Thunderstone.
|
|
|
Post by elvishnation on Oct 25, 2010 20:19:35 GMT -5
An elven female, dressed in blue and silver with brilliant full plate armor watches curiously, blue hood over her head.
|
|
|
Post by darinder on Oct 27, 2010 4:37:56 GMT -5
Several minutes into the rather animated discussion between the aged Elf and the ferry-master, a young woman garbed in a blue dress and wearing a red cloak approaches the pair.
Her appearance seems to shock the Elf and the pair move to the edge of the riverbank and begin a quiet conversation of their own. For hours they sit and talk, tears occasionally appearing on one or the other's face.
More than once, gazes are turned out over the water as if they are each trying to look at some distant sight. The young woman takes out a map and the pair study it together for some time before the Elven male sits back apparently satisfied.
Towards the end, the young woman hands her aged companion a pure white lily which he plants in the pot nestled at his side.
As the young woman walks into the town of Thunderstone, he disappears in a flash of magic.
|
|
|
Post by darinder on Nov 1, 2010 10:34:33 GMT -5
The very next day...
The same aged Elf is seen briefly near the site of his prolonged conversation with the young human maiden. With him this time, however, is a fey dragon.
In the crook of one arm, the Elf carries the same earthenware pot, still with its bounty of an evergreen cutting and the white lily gifted to him the previous day.
After taking several minutes to assure himself they are both prepared, the Elf evokes his magic, bathing him and the feydragon in a white light. When the light clears, where they stood is now empty.
|
|
|
Post by darinder on Nov 1, 2010 10:36:34 GMT -5
Four days later...
A fey dragon, looking close to exhaustion flutters back along the river. He approaches the guards at the "gate" to Thunderstone, trying to gain entry but they will not let the creature pass.
Disconsolate, he retires to a nearby branch and sits... watching and waiting.
|
|
|
Post by qewaye on Nov 1, 2010 13:50:04 GMT -5
A shadowy figure notes this activity while watching comings and goings across the river from the Hullack side.
She stops to leave a note under a stone.
//PM sent.
|
|
|
Post by darinder on Nov 1, 2010 14:29:54 GMT -5
The feydragon may very well have noticed the note being left by the near-silent shadowy figure. However, not being able to read, and being a scrupulously honest little fellow (pranks don't count as dishonesty!), he leaves it for whoever it was intended for.
As for the elderly Elven male, there have been no further sightings of him (or his strange pot and the two plants it contained).
|
|
|
Post by elvishnation on Nov 1, 2010 17:17:57 GMT -5
Another feydragon comes from the hullack peering at the other curiously and trying to remain sneaky, though flitters of fey dust shimmers in the trees from her.
|
|
|
Post by dracofaerie on Nov 3, 2010 1:36:42 GMT -5
A purple dragon walks past - they always do around here
Sometimes they stop and look about, sometimes they keep on walking - hiding in plain sight
This one has passed by a few times in the last few weeks - he fails to stop when the young lady is talking to the old elf (full helms hide so much at range)
- he fails to stop when one Faerie Dragon is there (spying on him again most likely)
- he does stop when there are two however
- he walks over and says
Can I help either of you? *looks closer at them* You do not look like the one I am use to seeing here.
//feel free to PM me
|
|
|
Post by darinder on Nov 3, 2010 6:16:05 GMT -5
One oddity than any observer would almost certainly note about the male feydragon is that he wears a fine circlet around his neck. Made of silver, it bears no jewelery or adornments. Neither is any writing visible on the outside ring of said circlet.
|
|
|
Post by darinder on Nov 5, 2010 10:39:36 GMT -5
Passing travellers might note an abrupt hesitancy in the manner of the feydragon as the Purple Dragon speaks to him. He extends his wings as if to drop from his branch to a point closer to the armoured knight but relents and remains "sitting" on his branch and talks to the man for at least a few minutes.
In any case, he does not leave the vicinity of the tree in which he's perched.
// PM sent
|
|
|
Post by walkonair on Nov 9, 2010 1:02:34 GMT -5
A young lady steps lightly off the Marsember-Thunderstone ferry, holding her red cloak closely about her for warmth in the cool of the morning's dawn.
Unlike most of the ferry's passengers, she diverts from the main path into Thunderstone, and instead walks along the riverbanks. Singing softly to herself, her attention focuses on the nearby trees. And she scans their foliage and branches as she walks.
// PM sent.
|
|
|
Post by darinder on Nov 10, 2010 0:07:48 GMT -5
The faerie dragon's attention was quickly caught by the young woman and he is heard to call to her by name. The two began a lengthy conversation in the shade of the tree in which he had been sitting.
She eventually coaxed him to eat a few morsels and to drink some fresh water, showing the young fey nothing but kindness.
They moved to the water's edge and continued speaking softly, each taking turns to express a range of emotions as might be seen by any who had chanced by. Abruptly, they paused in their talk and seemed to wait as if expecting the arrival of a third.
The pair had not long to wait as from a shimmering halo of light, a figure dressed in rich teal and white stepped forward. The fey dragon's reaction is as unexpected as it is quick. In less than an eye-blink, he launched himself into the air and arrowed down towards the new arrival with the talons on his forelimbs fully extended. In his flight, the fey gave out a most discordant (and uncharacteristic) screech filled with anger.
As quick as the woman was to interpose her body between the old elf and the enraged faerie dragon, she was not as quick as a single word uttered by a second new arrival. Stepping also from the shimmering halo to stand directly behind the old elf was a slightly smaller figure, dressed in brightly polished light elven mail and wearing a turquoise cloak.
"Ethys!" called the fourth member of this tableau in a voice filled with warmth and yet with a demanding edge to it. The response from Ethys (for that is the fey's name) was immediate; he rapidly beat his wings, pushing his body to an almost-vertical posture causing him to brake abruptly. He then hovered and just... stared as the new speaker reached up to draw back her hood revealing a face he had thought to never see again. A face of Elven features framed by hair of silver.
As barely a heartbeat had gone by, the human woman still had her back to the two Elves as she sought to calm the enraged faerie dragon in her own way.
"Isabel... Isabel should turn around, yes yes." the suddenly nervous Ethys suggested to her.
Turn around she did, paling when she too spied the face of the speaker. Giving the other three "room", the elder elf stepped back and prepared his magic to again take him someplace "other". As he departed, the apprehension he had worn was muted (at least in part) by serenity.
Those who were left began a conversation that lasted for hours and includes much close contact; almost as if both the fey and the human were disbelieving of the reality of the situation. Tears were shed, laughter was shared, and soft words were spoken by all three for hours upon hours.
But all things must end. When it came time for her to leave, the human woman backed away, not wanting to take her eyes from the scene until the last possible moment. Her elven companion sent her on her way with the warmest of smiles.
When all was quiet, the Elf reached for the bow at her back and searched the riverbank for a rough stone (unsurprisingly, most thereabouts were too smooth) that fit snugly in her palm. Using its rough texture, she used it as a rasp to rub at one of the many divots in the dark wood of the bow's frame.
As she worked, her face was near-expressionless.
|
|