Gaming W/Jemal: Legends Chapter 1

[ishalleatyourflesh]

From the shadows Damian takes in the sight of the Bramble, the otherworldness of it. "Truly a majestic dewelling, puts my own home to shame. Thou in it's defense Raven's Loft is more of a trade village then anything else. Is it by chance it's here, special reason you have chosen this location to have it or is it transient? Oh my. where are my manors. Such a poor guest I'm being." He steps out so he is closer to Sigil and fully in her view. "Lady Sigil my thanks for this invitation to your wonderful home. I belive that one should never just suddenly drop in on one's host with out a gift to show gratitude." With that he bows and with a sweeping motion pulls a very expensive bottle of wine from his cloak. He presents this to Sigil. "I do believe that traditionally for dinner invitations one brings wine?"

[sblock=OOC] And again a slight of hand check to hide the fact that he draws it from his haversack, instead appears to pull it from his cloak. 1d20+27=38 and jemal give me a number that seems fair to you to subtract from my spare funds.[/sblock]

 

[Shayuri]

Sigil smiled and graciously accepted Damien's bottle with a little bow.

"Many thanks, sir. I will ask Tatter to serve it with our meal."

The doors open when she raps her knuckles against them, and as the others pass through, they notice that the eyes of the stone griffon perched on a root by the door are following them. Vines twist slowly along the trunk as they pass through the doorway, like snakes just a little too sleepy to strike.

Inside is a large round chamber. The floor slopes gently upward towards a magnificent wooden throne in the center that looks to be shaped directly out of the wooden floor, not a separate piece of furniture. It's carved with trees and leaves, but a closer look reveals humanoid and fey faces cleverly hidden in the tangles. Along the wooden floor a heavy mist swirls and eddies, like a thin layer of smoke hugging the ground. Hanging over the throne is a wide, flat brazier of brass that shines with incredibly bright golden light up onto the high arched ceiling above, and illuminates the entire room. Around the edges, where the shadows are deeper, the mists seem to thicken, making it hard to determine exactly how big the room is. Ghostly forms hobnob among each other in those misty shadows, silhouettes mostly, though their slim builds and large ears suggest fey folk. Their conversations are whispered, and can only be heard as a quiet murmuring noise. Despite there being no windows or ventilation, the air is sweet and pure and cool.

"The reception hall," Sigil says with indulgent pride. "I normally take my meals in my chambers or study...those are upstairs. I'll take you up. Tatter!"

A cleverly hidden door in the back of the room opens, and through it flitted a thin, pale pixie in threadbare, worn and frayed garments. Her hair was dark and lank and fell over her face in long, straight bangs. She flew over the floor at a good clip and paused before them all before saying in a hard-to-hear whisper, "...'s Queen."

Sigil presented Damien's bottle to the tiny girl. "Prepare dinner for me and my guests, please. Serve this wine with it. And once it's done, would you fly over to the Elder's cabin and help him with a particular suit of armor that's vexing us?"

Tatterdemalion took the wine and nodded slowly. "'S, Queen," she affirmed, then wheeled about and sped back off to the secret door.

Sigil smiled at the others, and led them towards the same door.

"She followed me out of Faerie. There were some others who wished to, but I didn't want a large entourage. And Tatterdemalion...she's very special. One of the older pixies still alive, and a very accomplished bard. I don't know where I'd be without her help."

 

[Myth and Legend]

Silivrenniel smiled at her hostess, taking in to the splendour of this magnificent work of art and magic. "Truly fascinating lady Sigil. Or should I say... Queen? I insist on addressing you properly." The Elven Mage smiled courteously, as she took a seat, releived that the furniture was not built for giants, as was the case in most Human castles. She was a tiny Elven woman after all.

 

[Shayuri]

"Sigil is fine," she replies airily, with a pleased smile. "I'm no longer Queen of anything save this house, and no one on this plane would consider my blood of any peerage."

They had arrived in the study, on the top floor of Bramble, dominated by bookshelves comfortable seating and a desk with a jumble of knickknacks upon it. It was warmer here, and a little stuffier than in the reception hall, but still comfortable enough. A large pair of shutter doors were open, giving a view out onto a balcony and into the forest beyond.

Tatterdemalion brought up glasses of wine, now quite chilled, along with the open bottle. A moment later she brought a platter of appetizing food and waited there expectantly with a somewhat forlorn expression.

Sigil said to the waiting sprite, "Boiled shrimp and noodles in a white sauce please. With that cheese sprinkled on top." She then looked at the others. "The food here is created magically. You may ask for whatever you wish."

 

[Myth and Legend]

Silivrenniel did not need to eat, but that did not mean the Elf did not take pleasure in it once in a while. She now wanted to relax, remember her youth and perhaps bond with these new allies she had found. "Fried tomatoes, peppers and eggs mixed with cottage cheese please. And sliced white and yellow cheese with red pepper for Damien's exquisite wine." To the questioning looks she answered: "I was raised on a human farm, and some habits never die." the Elven woman grinned, the yellow glow of her skin now apparent in the dim light.

The tiny framed Archmage took her seat, and looked around casually, examining the library and it's books, the walls and the night-covered forest outside. "So, tell me what do you know of these... bloodlines?" The word felt strange on Sila's tongue, as it was something rare - something she had no knowledge on.

 

[ethandrew]

This was truly an impressive home, one that Adamas could greatly admire. His own lodgings for the past few decades had been comfortable and suitable, but nothing near this quality. The fact that Sigil's home had been forged directly using the nature around was one that caused the elf to smile inwardly.

"Some berries and dried meat, if you please," Adamas states clearly.

 

[Shayuri]

Tatterdemalion nods, and flits out.

Sigil shrugs at Silivrenniel. "Not much beyond what the Elder told us. It's from my fey blood that I gained many of my powers, and earned the title I held...but those things aren't unique to me. There are many mortals with immortal lineage, of one degree or another. What he was talking about seems...different. More singular. And besides, how can you be descended from War, for example? I think the Bloodlines are referring to some kind of metaphysical relationship more than any literal ancestry."

Just then Tatterdemalion returns with the requested refreshments, and sets them on little silver platters, each one near the one who requested it.

(OOC - Do we want to keep on with this while Jemal is away due to Real Life Woes? Or wait for his return?)

 

[ishalleatyourflesh]

Damian addresses the small servent. "If I may a Steak please, rare with little seasoning." Turning back to his hostess. "I wish my retainer was as well behaved, but I really shouldn't complain, with out the old man I wouldn't have been able to start Black Feather Trading. As to the blood lines that the seer spoke of not all of them are from immortal beings or even this metaphysical you speak of. I know my blood line, as has every member of my family before me, but we only know of it not really what it means or what it is capable of. All I know is my family before me and myself are desendents of Raven. We all have lived our lives by his example even before we have been told of this relationship or of Raven himself. And before you ask he lived and died a mortal, a simple human. It's just his life was anything but simple."

[sblock=OOC]Long as we keep it RP I say go for it [/sblock]

 

[Myth and Legend]

Silivrenniel tried the dish, the taste almost approximating that which her step mother used to make more than two centuries ago. The good food and exquisite wine made the Elf smile. She stabbed a piece of yellow cheese on her fork and pointed at Damian. "Yes, but your "bloodlines" are related to certain races, deities or even mortal men. The sun is a cosmic body, not an entity that has a life of it's own or access to the powers of creation. I have tone much research, both in to the nature of fire, solar fire and positive energy... But i do not revere Pelor or Lathander or any other deity i have ever heard of, that is associated with the sun."

Sila paused, ate her bite and washed it down witih wine. "I can't grasp the nature of these powers, and i have not experienced them myself. Sadly, Arineil chose to remain in the cabin, so there is no relevant information to be had." Sila's nose wrinkled, as she abhored the notion of not being able to understand or research something.

 

[ishalleatyourflesh]

Damian slices his steak with precise cuts, impaling a piece on his knife we uses it to gesture before eating it. "Should point out I said some and for what bloodlines give it may be more then just powers. It could be a way of life. I have lived my life and made choices very similar to my family before me with out knowing of it before hand. A bit of Raven seems to be in us and we share the same thoughts and goals as he. Compliments to the chef or mage in this case I guess."