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Steel Dragon's "Tales of Orea"
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<blockquote data-quote="steeldragons" data-source="post: 6141686" data-attributes="member: 92511"><p>Alaria awoke the morning of Midwinter. She laid there and stared at the paneled ceiling as she listened to the chiming of six bells. After the final peal, she rose and wrapped herself in a robe of soft white wool. The pitcher and bowl on the side stand had yet to be filled. With a thought, the magess “washed" her face and hair with a simple cantrip. No doubt she would do so again, with actual water and soap at least once again before the Lordmage’s gala that evening.</p><p></p><p>Braddok stirred in his deep slumber and rolled over, turning away from her.</p><p></p><p>Alaria grinned, despite herself. She followed the lines in muscled creases of his bare back. Rhea’s mental message from what seemed an eternity ago, “They are good for some things" replayed itself in her mind, yet again.</p><p></p><p>Turning back to the shudders, Alaria wondered how much of that had been idle comment, “woman to woman”, and how much had been the Emerald Lady’s psychic prescience to what was to develop between the two of them.</p><p></p><p>She opened the shudders (which bent into the room) to let the morning light stream into the chamber. Braddok groaned at the new, unwelcome, light but did not wake.</p><p></p><p>Alaria was surprised to hear a “tap tap tap” at the clear glass windows that filled the narrow opening. There was a bird on the ledge outside.</p><p></p><p>*tap tap tap* the bird hit the pane with its beak again.</p><p></p><p>Alaria squinted through the somewhat imperfect glass. It was a wren or nightingale or some other small nondescript bird.</p><p></p><p>*tap tap tap*</p><p></p><p>Alaria, puzzled, opened the latch on the window and swung the one beside the bird open.</p><p></p><p>The creature immediately hopped over to the opening, but stayed on the outside sill. It was a nightingale.</p><p></p><p>“Good morning, gentle one. What brings you here? I’m afraid I’ve no seed or berry to offer you." the magess said playfully. She expected at any moment the bird would take flight away.</p><p></p><p>It tweeted twice.</p><p></p><p>The third time it opened its beak, Alaria was utterly shocked to hear a voice!</p><p></p><p>“Fen sends his regards to Magess Alaria. He regrets they have been detained by some curious business in the pixie wood. But one way or the other, expect their arrival on the morn.” the bird said.</p><p></p><p>“I...uh...well...thank...” Alaria began to stammer at the exceedingly odd occurrence.</p><p></p><p>The nightingale took flight and was gone from view out over the town far below.</p><p></p><p>“...you.” she finished. ‘Curious business’, Alaria wondered. Whatever could that mean? A shame Fen and Pyrnion would be missing the gala. Though, she had no doubts, Fen would not be missing an introduction to the Lady Elhianne’s young neice.</p><p></p><p>---------------------</p><p></p><p>“Remind me never to drink pixie nectar ever<em> ever </em>again.” Pyrnion said from his place on a thick branch of the tree Fen casually leaned against below him.</p><p></p><p>“Still ill, Pyrnion? Fairy nectar is a singular honor. I would doubt you will ever have the opportunity to partake again. They share it with practically no one that is not of their kin. Not to mention this.” Fen ran his fingers, for the hundredth time that day, through the delicate sparkling pixie dust in a pouch at his side. “We are heroes to this wood, Pyrnion. It is a great privilege that we have earned their trust and devotion.”</p><p></p><p>“For you, perhaps.” Pyrnion said, squinting out over the field of snow beyond the wood glowing bright in the full moon light. His head still throbbed from the prior night’s “party” that went on to the rising sun. Following many too few hours of sleep, they had been brought to the southern edge of the wood.</p><p></p><p>There, Fen had recognized and recalled what someone named Festus had once called “the Giant’s Thumb.” It was, as the pixies had said, a great white stone, angled but rounded by age and weather, that jutted out of the surrounding field, currently covered with a solid foot of snow. Fen had posited that the stone must have, once upon a time, been within the wood. But over the ages of the Daenfrii residents' needs for lumber, now found itself about 100 yards beyond the current forest’s edge.</p><p></p><p>A shiver went through the zephari’s body as he noticed, quite unexpectedly a chill. Must have been his body reacting to the lingering effects of the fairy’s alcohol. He stretched his wings a moment and wrapped them, again, tightly around his person. They’d been sitting here watching for hours.</p><p></p><p>“How much longer?” Pyrnion asked. “We zepharim are a patient people and much accustomed to keeping watch. But we have been here since before twilight.”</p><p></p><p>“That is true, but we have no way of knowing when the door actually opens.” Fen defended. He too shivered beneath his druid’s cloak. Whether it was the effects of the nectar or the fact it was actually more cold here, at the end of the faye-enchanted forest, where winter sat dominant upon all they surveyed, he neither knew nor cared.</p><p></p><p>“It could have opened at the setting of the sun...or perhaps it waits for the silver moon to be at its zenith...I have no way of knowing. Besides, it would be good to see if our mercy to those redcaps is justified or we’ll be hunting faye-goblins for the rest of the night.”</p><p></p><p>“You are a strange one, druid Fen. Our concerns far outweigh whatever minor enchantments concern this wood. We should be meeting with the others in the Dragonmage’s Vale.”</p><p></p><p>“And we shall, my feathered friend. But this bares some merit...and may yet prove to relate to our friends in the Dragonmage’s Vale if what the redcaps said was true. Hush now!” Fen said in hushed alarm, wrapping his cloak about him to merge, seamlessly with the trunk of the tree. His enhanced hearing had noted something along the edge of the wood, not far from their position. With a thought, Pyrnion made himself unseen.</p><p></p><p>From the wood, some ten yards beside their position, the redcap leader and the archer broke the tree line. The leader toted a few feet of branch, using it as a walking stick and breaking the snow before them to make a path. Slowly, the two made their way out, beneath the bright white reflected light toward the stone.</p><p></p><p>Well, Fen thought to himself, at least they are not complete liars and fools.</p><p></p><p>The snow came up to their waists and it was obviously difficult for them to wade through the thick layer. Fen couldn’t help but admit that despite their evil nature, watching their round forms waddle through the snow, even these wicked faye were “cute.” He grinned, unseen, in appreciation of the duality of the purity of the Balance.</p><p></p><p>“Huh huh hurry, the moon is high.</p><p></p><p>F’not by midnight we surely die.” the leader croaked to his subordinate.</p><p></p><p>The archer, who it seemed had a full sack thrown over his shoulder and a couple of arrows left in a nearly empty quiver but no obvious bow, hurried his steps behind the leader. After three, he slipped and fell face-first into the snow.</p><p></p><p>Fen fought back an audible chuckle.</p><p></p><p>The leader had reached the stone and was continuing on to the right. The archer waddled quickly to catch up and began to go to the left.</p><p></p><p>“Fuh fuh fool, stupid Nashtoor! </p><p>This way. This way. To the door!</p><p>Use you feet or wings or fins,</p><p>Must approach it windershins!” the redcap commander shouted in near fury.</p><p></p><p>“Yuh yuh yessir, Bleegerplotz.</p><p>I am sorry. I forgots.” the archer replied.</p><p></p><p>Fen and Pyrnion watched as the redcaps trudged around the right side of the stone. The silver moon must have been at its zenith as the shadows which had been pronounced through the hours they had waited were now nearly gone.</p><p></p><p>Fen inhaled sharply as his senses tingled...nothing he really saw or heard, exactly, but felt most definitely. There was power emanating off of the stone. He perceived a powerful magic, a force older than he had yet to encounter that all but visually rippled across the frozen field around it.</p><p></p><p>Without any notice of what Fen was experiencing, the redcaps disappeared from their view, behind the far side of the stone.</p><p></p><p>Fen watched...and waited. He heard the soft bat of Pyrnion’s wings and felt his weight lifted off the tree against which he leaned.</p><p></p><p>A few moments later, he felt Pyrnion return.</p><p></p><p>“They’re gone.” the zephari whispered from his perch. “I flew above and around. The redcaps are just...gone. Their trail just...stops on the back side of the stone.”</p><p></p><p>Fen furrowed his brow but did not reply. “We will wait a few...” Fen’s sentence was cut off as a lean figure swathed in black emerged into their view, from where the redcaps had rounded the boulder.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="steeldragons, post: 6141686, member: 92511"] Alaria awoke the morning of Midwinter. She laid there and stared at the paneled ceiling as she listened to the chiming of six bells. After the final peal, she rose and wrapped herself in a robe of soft white wool. The pitcher and bowl on the side stand had yet to be filled. With a thought, the magess “washed" her face and hair with a simple cantrip. No doubt she would do so again, with actual water and soap at least once again before the Lordmage’s gala that evening. Braddok stirred in his deep slumber and rolled over, turning away from her. Alaria grinned, despite herself. She followed the lines in muscled creases of his bare back. Rhea’s mental message from what seemed an eternity ago, “They are good for some things" replayed itself in her mind, yet again. Turning back to the shudders, Alaria wondered how much of that had been idle comment, “woman to woman”, and how much had been the Emerald Lady’s psychic prescience to what was to develop between the two of them. She opened the shudders (which bent into the room) to let the morning light stream into the chamber. Braddok groaned at the new, unwelcome, light but did not wake. Alaria was surprised to hear a “tap tap tap” at the clear glass windows that filled the narrow opening. There was a bird on the ledge outside. *tap tap tap* the bird hit the pane with its beak again. Alaria squinted through the somewhat imperfect glass. It was a wren or nightingale or some other small nondescript bird. *tap tap tap* Alaria, puzzled, opened the latch on the window and swung the one beside the bird open. The creature immediately hopped over to the opening, but stayed on the outside sill. It was a nightingale. “Good morning, gentle one. What brings you here? I’m afraid I’ve no seed or berry to offer you." the magess said playfully. She expected at any moment the bird would take flight away. It tweeted twice. The third time it opened its beak, Alaria was utterly shocked to hear a voice! “Fen sends his regards to Magess Alaria. He regrets they have been detained by some curious business in the pixie wood. But one way or the other, expect their arrival on the morn.” the bird said. “I...uh...well...thank...” Alaria began to stammer at the exceedingly odd occurrence. The nightingale took flight and was gone from view out over the town far below. “...you.” she finished. ‘Curious business’, Alaria wondered. Whatever could that mean? A shame Fen and Pyrnion would be missing the gala. Though, she had no doubts, Fen would not be missing an introduction to the Lady Elhianne’s young neice. --------------------- “Remind me never to drink pixie nectar ever[I] ever [/I]again.” Pyrnion said from his place on a thick branch of the tree Fen casually leaned against below him. “Still ill, Pyrnion? Fairy nectar is a singular honor. I would doubt you will ever have the opportunity to partake again. They share it with practically no one that is not of their kin. Not to mention this.” Fen ran his fingers, for the hundredth time that day, through the delicate sparkling pixie dust in a pouch at his side. “We are heroes to this wood, Pyrnion. It is a great privilege that we have earned their trust and devotion.” “For you, perhaps.” Pyrnion said, squinting out over the field of snow beyond the wood glowing bright in the full moon light. His head still throbbed from the prior night’s “party” that went on to the rising sun. Following many too few hours of sleep, they had been brought to the southern edge of the wood. There, Fen had recognized and recalled what someone named Festus had once called “the Giant’s Thumb.” It was, as the pixies had said, a great white stone, angled but rounded by age and weather, that jutted out of the surrounding field, currently covered with a solid foot of snow. Fen had posited that the stone must have, once upon a time, been within the wood. But over the ages of the Daenfrii residents' needs for lumber, now found itself about 100 yards beyond the current forest’s edge. A shiver went through the zephari’s body as he noticed, quite unexpectedly a chill. Must have been his body reacting to the lingering effects of the fairy’s alcohol. He stretched his wings a moment and wrapped them, again, tightly around his person. They’d been sitting here watching for hours. “How much longer?” Pyrnion asked. “We zepharim are a patient people and much accustomed to keeping watch. But we have been here since before twilight.” “That is true, but we have no way of knowing when the door actually opens.” Fen defended. He too shivered beneath his druid’s cloak. Whether it was the effects of the nectar or the fact it was actually more cold here, at the end of the faye-enchanted forest, where winter sat dominant upon all they surveyed, he neither knew nor cared. “It could have opened at the setting of the sun...or perhaps it waits for the silver moon to be at its zenith...I have no way of knowing. Besides, it would be good to see if our mercy to those redcaps is justified or we’ll be hunting faye-goblins for the rest of the night.” “You are a strange one, druid Fen. Our concerns far outweigh whatever minor enchantments concern this wood. We should be meeting with the others in the Dragonmage’s Vale.” “And we shall, my feathered friend. But this bares some merit...and may yet prove to relate to our friends in the Dragonmage’s Vale if what the redcaps said was true. Hush now!” Fen said in hushed alarm, wrapping his cloak about him to merge, seamlessly with the trunk of the tree. His enhanced hearing had noted something along the edge of the wood, not far from their position. With a thought, Pyrnion made himself unseen. From the wood, some ten yards beside their position, the redcap leader and the archer broke the tree line. The leader toted a few feet of branch, using it as a walking stick and breaking the snow before them to make a path. Slowly, the two made their way out, beneath the bright white reflected light toward the stone. Well, Fen thought to himself, at least they are not complete liars and fools. The snow came up to their waists and it was obviously difficult for them to wade through the thick layer. Fen couldn’t help but admit that despite their evil nature, watching their round forms waddle through the snow, even these wicked faye were “cute.” He grinned, unseen, in appreciation of the duality of the purity of the Balance. “Huh huh hurry, the moon is high. F’not by midnight we surely die.” the leader croaked to his subordinate. The archer, who it seemed had a full sack thrown over his shoulder and a couple of arrows left in a nearly empty quiver but no obvious bow, hurried his steps behind the leader. After three, he slipped and fell face-first into the snow. Fen fought back an audible chuckle. The leader had reached the stone and was continuing on to the right. The archer waddled quickly to catch up and began to go to the left. “Fuh fuh fool, stupid Nashtoor! This way. This way. To the door! Use you feet or wings or fins, Must approach it windershins!” the redcap commander shouted in near fury. “Yuh yuh yessir, Bleegerplotz. I am sorry. I forgots.” the archer replied. Fen and Pyrnion watched as the redcaps trudged around the right side of the stone. The silver moon must have been at its zenith as the shadows which had been pronounced through the hours they had waited were now nearly gone. Fen inhaled sharply as his senses tingled...nothing he really saw or heard, exactly, but felt most definitely. There was power emanating off of the stone. He perceived a powerful magic, a force older than he had yet to encounter that all but visually rippled across the frozen field around it. Without any notice of what Fen was experiencing, the redcaps disappeared from their view, behind the far side of the stone. Fen watched...and waited. He heard the soft bat of Pyrnion’s wings and felt his weight lifted off the tree against which he leaned. A few moments later, he felt Pyrnion return. “They’re gone.” the zephari whispered from his perch. “I flew above and around. The redcaps are just...gone. Their trail just...stops on the back side of the stone.” Fen furrowed his brow but did not reply. “We will wait a few...” Fen’s sentence was cut off as a lean figure swathed in black emerged into their view, from where the redcaps had rounded the boulder. [/QUOTE]
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