Quest [Syka Quest] Mustering For The Journey

[Lacerta]

Lacerta sat, cross legged, resting on a pair of her arms, as she watched the rest of the introductions. It didn't seem like they were poorly staffed, with a large variety of skills that she could see... A pair of smiths as well, which would be a good thing. The boy... Jared, caught her eye, with his strange mannerisms. She couldn't quite figure out what he was up to, and was curious... Though not enough to ask. She was quite content to sit there and people-watch, enjoying the Summer night. However, Mathias approached and offered a hand, requesting to dance. She couldn't dance at all, and rarely tried, but well... He'd told them to get to know each other, a sensible thing for a journey, and to enjoy the rest of the night. Though he wasnt exactly one of the older races, this man was wise... That much she could tell. She was content to follow his opinions, on no matter how trivial the subject. He was knowledgable in this area, at least. "Of course! she answered politely, standing up gracefully. It was going to be... Odd... Dancing with six arms, but she could manage. Just use the top pair, and leave the other four alone. She followed this mental advice, grasping both of the man's hands with her top two. It was slightly awkward, but the Eth reminded herself of the vague memories of the politics of Ahnatep, from both her visits and her past life. Though she remembered this, she had no clue about any kind of dances, so decided the best choice was to let Mathias lead, and try her best to follow along. To vocalize this, she muttered quietly "I must warn you, I'm not a very good dancer..." She smiled apologetically, before continuing with "You just lead... And I'll try to follow." She considered the music as she did this, trying to rack her brains of what kind of dances went with it. Sadly, nothing came up. Despite her knowledge with creating music, she was hopeless in this area. Maybe it would be sensible to find out which beat fit with which... Another thought occurred to her, the fact that dancing would require making polite conversation. She wasn't the best at this, but could always try... She just needed to come up with a subject to speak about. She thought of a few topics, but finally came up with one. Syka itself. "I'm sorry to be forgetful, but I'm curious. When was Skya first built? The original, I mean. And when did it..." Lacerta racked her brains for the right word. She couldn't remember exactly what had happened to the city... She'd never paid much attention to the city... Or Taloba."Fall?" There was an obvious question in her voice, to display the uncertainty, and she grinned slightly as well. It was more from awkwardness than anything else, as it had been a long time since any such gathering, or mostly forced casual conversation. Common Fravata Arumenic Someone else

[Gossamer]

Mathias smiled as Lacerta graciously agreed. He was a well traveled man, and he'd been south more than once. This party, for them all, was much more than an introduction. To Mathias it was a test of their personalities. And Lacerta, as far as he could tell, was one that was going to be hard to get close to, to understand, and one that may or may not warm up to the others as quickly as she could.

But drawing the group into a close knit family was important. And as he gently lead the Eth turned Eypharian out onto the space provided for dancing, he decided to try with the toughest one first. Mathias gently arranged her in his arms, nodding to the musicians to start a quiet but lovely upbeat tune they could all dance with. He didn't just choose a set of her arms to hold with his own, but instead moved fluidly, like those of her kind, often changing which he grasped in the course of the dance, leading her into the tune. He was a strong but unskilled dancer, and as he swept her a round of the party, he nodded to Sirraco and Abase to grab themselves partners as well. He did the same with the other males, knowing everyone should be dancing since they were paused in their eating.

"We have no idea, My Dear. We will find out. Perhaps you will be the first to discover how to date this civilization. Or perhaps our Spiritist friend over there will be able to. We do know they were gone long before the Valterrian. We don't know when that was. So much has changed since then." He added, spinning her, and releasing the current hands he was holding and capturing others of hers. He leaned closer, bringing his ear up to hers, and smiling into it. "The beauty of your race, my dear, is that every woman here would love to have as many limbs as you do. Either to move with, to touch with, or to express themselves. You should be proud of who you are, what you are, and live it up. Your kind has more than others. You should revel in that and not feel so awkward." He said, leaning back and suddenly spinning her out with a laugh as the music increased its beat.

"Laugh, folks. Dance. Eat. For tonight we celebrate when tomorrow or the days after we will be working incredibly hard and perhaps even fighting for our lives." He announced, dipping Lacerta suddenly, laughing a little. It was as if his years shed off and he was a young man again, taking on the world.

[Delani Denusk]

Partying felt so odd to the drykas; when was the last time she'd had this kind of 'fun'? Her mind went to the Chaktawe she'd met, the man as passionate as the drykas, wise beyond years, a man with far sight indeed. They'd had a feast one night some time after she'd recovered enough to enjoy it and he had danced to the beat of a summer drum. It was beautiful to watch him sway and turn and tap, something she'd even asked him to teach her. Watching Mathias and Lacerta brought the memory forth like Syna in full rise and for a moment, the woman smiled, holding the flute of wine to her lips and admiring the pair quietly.

From here, she could hear them over the pulse of the music, still holding her own council for the most part as she simply soaked it all in, measuring the value of information that was given by one and all. The offer of refreshment from one of the attendants was politely declined. He had mentioned the spiritist being of use in dating the lost city; perhaps it was something she, too, could assist them with. The visions the lykata brought were not always coherent and useful, but what data they provided would no doubt prove valuable.

Her eyes roamed the rest of the crowd before settling back on the Akalak once again, meeting eyes that had been watchiing her in return before Mathias rose to share a dance with Lacerta.

You know he was watching you; what was on his mind, I wonder...

Dela finally rose, leaving her drink upon the table to bypass the squat seats in order to approach Abase. Avoiding the possibility of negation, the drykas took a seat beside him, resting easily on her legs with hands folded atop her thighs. "I hope you were not offended by my remarks." She said simply, keeping her eyes on the dancing duo. "Often times, I find Eyris' influence leading words unbidden from my lips. Life is full of danger, this world an exclamation of that. We need only have the courage to stand and face the danger."

Finally, she turned her braided head to face him, offering that same weathered smile of one who saw too much in too little a time, offering a bow of that same head and a name besides. "I am Delani of Denusk. I am afraid I do not recall your introduction."

Person 2

Person 3

[Abase]

As the true festivities began Abase contented himself with sipping his drink. He was not accustomed to such settings, to so many people of so many unique and interesting personalities. Offering a wave to Mathius as he took the many armed woman to the dance floor, Abase entertained the idea of dancing himself.

Though I fear I do not have any skills at the art. My foot work has never been the best.

It could be no worse than your foolish actions in joining this foolish venture. Irists' harsh voice returned.

Are you still sore to have been put down by that woman?

Abase could almost hear his Dark brother's brow deepening in a frown, I cannot be 'put down' by any woman. he said, But here she comes now, so it is your turn to be made the fool of.

Abase looked up in surprise as Delani sat beside him, having been caught within his own head that he had forgotten the world around him for just a moment. Turning slightly so that he could face her, Abase rested his arms over his crossed legs, leaning forward in a relaxed position, "You no need worry. I took no offense." he said with a bit too much emphasis on the I, "Your words true, and you not ever need apologize for saying truth." He smiled and laughed, "If were true then I would apologize more than talk!"

His eyes looked over her braids, a bit entranced by their intricacy, "Is beautiful name you have. Speaks of strong woman to have strong name, and strong name speak well of strong voice." he looked to catch her eye with his own, "I Kasaiabase. Is name given by mother, but you friend and comrade call me Abase." he offered one hand, "Is much pleasure to meet you new sister."

[Delani Denusk]

Glad to hear he was not offended, the woman's smile lightened to one of comraderie, even following his gaze upwards and a hand subconsciously rising to touch the gray-streaked braid atop her head but it was not her hair which he commented on at all; instead, it was of beauty and strength.

Surprised by this, Dela laughed a little, bowing her head graciously to the compliment provided. "Well thank you, Abase. That is very kind of you. There were times I wondered if it ought be changed for its namesake has passed on. She was very brave, even to the end." The woman paused a moment, realizing he might not understand her meaning. "Forgive me, Delani comes from my old Strider. She was a beautiful thing, intelligent and brave. A fine ol' mare to have chosen me." She fell quiet a moment afterwards but did offer him her gloved hand.

The fingerless glove looked odd on the bronze-skinned matron, out of place with the worn and faded clothing she wore. But, the drykas' grip was strong and sure, confident and reflecting of the subtle curiosity that shone likewise in her gemstone eyes. "It is rare that I have the opportunity to converse with an Akalak. Even before the storm, I stayed with the pavilion in the Sea. I know my cousins dwell here now. A great shame it is that I could not have experienced Riverfall and its people more before leaving this land." She did not know that he was not an Akalak, of course. His name was unusual for one, but he'd said his mother had named him.

[Lucas Arias]

Lucas ate and ate and ate, and he also drank a lot while he listened to the others talk. He didn’t have anything more to say for now. He only stopped eating when Mathias mentioned a mysterious race of arcanists called the ‚Nyavanni‘. He abruptly raised his head and looked at the man curiously. He was about to ask him what those Nyavanni had looked like when Syka remarked that there wasn’t very much known about them. He imagined tall, muscular people with multiple arms and tentacles and glowing eyes that wore long robes and spoke in a language that nobody else could understand though. The former squire had always had an overactive imagination.

„Did they speak a different language?“ he wanted to know. „What happened with the things they discovered in that children’s tomb? Where are they now? And why are the Nyavanni extinct? Did they die during the Valterrian?“ Lucas looked like an excited little boy now rather than a young adult. He found the Nyavanni fascinating! That was the reason why he had left Syliras and gone to Nyka and Zeltiva and all those other places! He wanted to get to know the world! He wanted to know what kind of strange races populated or had populated it, and he wanted to find out what it had been like before the Valterrian as well!

Lucas really liked parties, but he liked dancing a little less than eating and drinking and talking to people. In fact he didn’t like dancing at all. He couldn’t dance. He was decent with a sword and agile and everything, but in his case at least that didn’t automatically translate to being a good dancer. He was awkward and nervous and everything. Maybe he could pull out his lute and make some bad music in order to avoid having to dance with anybody?

He decided to do just that and provide a little entertainment. Lucas had absolutely no training with the lute, but he could randomly touch the strings and make the instrument produce sound. Kind of. A little.

[Brodon Windriver]

Brodon did not want to leave the party again. He'd already taken a short break as he'd caught up on news from Cyphrus with Delani. They had come back, with no great amount of time to spare, just before Mathias had requested semi-formal introductions. Then had come rounds of questions and answers. It had all been routinely eye-opening, the questions being understandable and fairly easy to anticipate, the answers clarifying, if not too earth-shaking.

Then had come the revelation. An extinct race! A ruin of a completely extinct culture! Brodon had assumed that Syka had been a simply human endeavor of bygone years, overcome and reclaimed by the jungle. This gave a whole new significance to this mission. He had already been eager to go. Now there was a genuine possibility of answers to his father's affliction. Every source so far had produced nothing. It was only his sense of belief that kept him going. Small signs had kept him moving towards something. But up until now, it had continued to be that, just a vague "something". But the signs HAD led him here, now. And now he was sure there was a major breakthrough on the horizon.

Several members of his Pavilion had expressed disquiet over the iron staff his father carried and battled with. It had strange symbols etched on it. His father had always discounted them as nothing more than art. But no one had ever been able to identify them as such. Or anything else for that matter. They didn't fit into the cultural patterns of any written form of expression. Even the trainers of djed crafts had confirmed that they were not the ancient tongue. After his father had collapsed in a coma, a symbol had appeared on the side of his head, and Brodon had left to search for the meaning of it, taking the staff with him.

His inherent optimism had given him the impression that he was always getting closer and closer to something. This could be what it is. His father was not Drykas by birth, and he did not know the origins of the staff. It had simply been a family heirloom longer than anyone could remember. Perhaps these Nyavanni had an alphabet of their own!

He had not brought the staff with him to this party. He wanted to run back to his room at Atri's and retrieve it. But Lucas had given him reason to pause. One of the questions he had just asked was the very one Brodon would have asked when he got back. 'Did they speak a different language?'

Brodon wanted to hear the answer to that. If they DID, he would follow up with asking if they had a different written language as well? Did Mathis have a sample of the writing? Would he recognize it even if he didn't? Could he see if the etchings on the staff were the same?

Of course, with Mr. Syka currently dancing, and so many others asking questions, Brodon was not sure he had even heard Lucas' questions. 'Ahh well. There is nothing but time now. No hurry.' he thought, as he relieved one of the servants of a glass of ale.

[Ialari Pythone]

OOCGiven permission by Goss to join.

Ialari stood in the center of her Dominion. From where she was standing, she looked out upon a vast sea of clouds. Light reflected off of the clouds in a prism of startling colors that made it all look like some strange, alien world with mountains of sparkling orange, red and yellow and seas of green, blue and purple. Under her feet, a short outcropping of rock extended out from the face of a mountain. Behind her on face of the mountain lay a partially opened doorway. Through the opening could be seen a glimpse of a completely different environment, that of a coastal forest. While she had created a rather strong bond with her Dominion, it didn't always remain locked in the same landscape. Occasionally it would change thanks to the damage to the Ukalas still left over from the Valterrian.

Arranged in a number of piles on the side of Ialari were various pieces of equipment that she had gathered and stored in her Dominion. There were barrels of tobacco and tea leaves, stacks of battered cookware, a collection of whale vertabrae, a roughly-carved stone basin, a few small piles of cloths, a lockbox, a small pile of lumber, a gathering of other rough construction materials and few other odds and ends.

Ialari stretched her arms up and out while bending her torso to the side until feeling and hearing a sounding pop. She had just awoke from a long nap and greeted her fantastical surroundings with a deep breath of crisp, cool air. Once again it was time for her to test her skills and her bond with her little pocket of the Ukalas. What she was about to do was not all that new to her. The creation of a dominion door, though not difficult in itself, required a bit of attention and focus. It was the destination she wished to link to that was the tricky part. She planned to establish a doorway to Sahova.

Ialari had thought for quite some time about the doorway and where she was going to link it. Such a door was often used as a secondary entrance into or even an emergency exit out of a Dominion. It could also be used to link numerous Dominions to each other. This particular door would be a way for her to bypass all the sea travel she had to undertake to get from Sahova to her Retreat. Dominion was about folding space within space. The doors connected these spaces and could even be used to connect space in a way that long distances could be crossed with ease. This however was a bit more than what Ialari had considered attempting before. A door that would lead out of her Dominion and back to Sahova, perhaps to one of the golem-ran warehouses near the docks could pose a problem as she didn't know what enchantments on the island may interfere with the doorway. She chose one of the warehouses though as few of Sahova's other, fully sentient inhabitants would care to snoop.

After stretching and shaking the fog of sleep from her mind, Ialari gathered a handful of tools from her pile of gear then walked over to the pile of construction materials. She picked out a few pieces of lumber, salvaged some time ago from a shipwreck she stumbled across, and began to piece together the start of a frame. She shaved away some excess wood with her metallic hand; her fingers pushing the wood away as if it were little more than clay. She shaped and fitted the different pieces together before using her hand to push iron nails through the wood thus connecting the pieces together in the shape of a large rectangle. A few more pieces of wood were cut and shaped then strapped together edge to edge with strips of leather bound to the wood with more nails. Once finished, Ialari had crafted a serviceable wood door and doorframe. Taking a couple of lightly rusted hinges, she lightly smeared away the rust as if it were mud before using the hinges to attach the door to the frame.

With he door and frame complete, Ialari turned and walked over to the side of the mountain next to where the existing door stood. Running her hand over the rough stone, she flattened it and removed any excess stone until she had a cleared a rectangular shaped indentation roughly the size and shape of the door she just built. Picking up the door and frame as one, she leaned it up against stone wall, lined it up with the indentation then cleared away a bit more stone until the doorframe fit inside. With a handful of larger nails, Ialari pushed them one by one through the wood frame and into the stone. Only one piece remained, a handle which added at the end. Once finished, she took a step back and surveyed her handiwork.

It wasn't the most beautiful work she had ever done but it wasn't all that bad. The boards were tight together and the door swung well on the hinges even if they were still a little rusty. Turning next to a small bowl of paint she had prepared earlier from animal fat and sea-shells, she dipped a quill made from a feather of a large sea-bird into the paint then set to drawing the various patterns and designs upon the wood door that would prepare it for use in her Dominion. Carefully she pulled the tip of the quill across the surface of the door, creating numerous geometric patterns within patterns. She started at the bottom of the frame and worked her way up one side, across the top and down the other side. She followed a similar method in painting the door. She stopped however when she reached the center of the door. In the center there were five circles roughly the size of her finger tips. Retrieving her dagger, Ialari drew it across the tips of the fingers on her offhand deep enough to draw blood. She bit her lip during the process as if it would help mute the pain. The tears in her eyes told the truth of it however.

Ialari then placed her bleeding fingers on the circles painted in the center of the door and held them there. When the blood made contact with the paint, the patterns and shapes began to turn red followed quickly by crimson illumination. The patterns in the door and the frame then flared brightly before the paint and blood seemingly soaked into the wood leaving no signs they were ever there. Only a pale crimson glow surrounding the seam between the door and the frame remained. By all signs, the process worked. Ialari had mentally prepared herself with the image of one of the warehouses in Sahova as she sliced her fingers. If all went well, the patterns and blood would be absorbed into the door and the process would be successful.

Satisfied that the doorway was complete, Ialari turned back to her gear and began gathering what she didn't want to leave behind. It could be awhile before she could return to her Dominion as the doorway into the Ukalas was located at her Retreat on the mainland far from Sahova. Traveling there usually meant booking passage on a ship that would drop her off on the coast some distance away from the Retreat. She would then have to hike the rest of the way. At least the door to Sahova would reduce the time spent traveling by ship.

Ialari packed up her clothes, her poisoncrafting kit, dagger, staff, her dominated lockbox and remaining personal items, storing things in the lockbox or her backpack. With everything more or less in order, she turned back to newly crafted door, took a deep breath, then walked over and reached for the handle. Wrapping her fingers around the handle, Ialari pulled the door open. On the otherside, she saw the inside of one of Sahova's dock warehouses, complete with crates, boxes and barrels. With a wide smile on her face, she stepped through the doorway.

Her first step beyond the threshold was the moment she realized something wasn't right. Perhaps it was her bond with her Dominion that alerted her to the problem or maybe it was the small tickle of light that she barely noticed in the doorframe as she passed through it. Whatever it was, she realized too late that there was a problem. The image of the warehouse in front of her appeared to quiver then shake and finally explode as she step forward. For an moment she was blinded and disoriented.

When her vision and mind cleared, she was anywhere but the warehouse in Sahova.

********************

To onlookers it appeared as though a doorway opened in the middle of the small garden. Through the doorway could be seen a sea of prismatic colored clouds with a figure stepping through. An isur with short silvery hair dressed in a black skirt, black boots and a black chest wrap wielding a snake-headed staff in her black, silver-veined metallic hand and carrying a heavily loaded backpack stepped through the strange rift in space. When she was clear of it, the doorway shimmered once and was gone.

Blinking several times before looking around in complete confusion, Ialari took in her surroundings then stated in a rather dry tone, "Um, this isn't Sahova, is it."

[Sirroco]

It was not until finally hearing Mathias himself speak of the genesis of the expedition, the tales behind it, and the expectations of the grand journey, did Sirroco begin to understand the gravity of the undertaking. There was a spark of excitement, the lure of the unknown that the Svefra really never experienced before. The sensation of being part of something so significant resonated with the need for purpose the lone fisherman had foundered over since Sable and he parted ways. The joy of such revelation was only brightened at the invitation to drink and dance. If there was one thing Svefra knew, it was how to party. As the group turned from the meal to more social activities, Sirroco snatched an ale from a passing servant and downed a swig. Another survey of his new companions made him chuckle. Such a motley crew, diverse and intriguing. He did want to meet them all, certain each had riveting tales to tell. Mathias had already taken a dance partner, setting an example to his team, scooping up the exotic Eypharian. Sirroco was in no hurry to dance, though he was curious as to whom would join him when he did. The Svefra turned to the mysterious spiritist sitting next to him. Even if she did not have gills, a black metallic arm, or colored skin, she was one of the most strange around the table. He wanted to learn more about her. "Levissa, right?" Sirroco's words halted in his throat as his eyes darted over Levissa's shoulder. He saw the doorway open, the one that was not there. Through it stepped another Isurian woman, small yet generously contoured with corded muscles wrapped in silver-traced blue-purple skin, with a serpentine staff clutched in her black hand. A third Isurian joining the expedition? But this woman seemed as surprised to be standing there as those that saw here suddenly appear. Still looking over the new arrival, Sirroco muttered to the woman next to him. "This just keeps getting weirder." A wide smile crossed his lips.

[Daekos Volundur]

The rush of information that followed everyone's introduction was quite overwhelming, although Daekos tried his best to remember all the details. It could be useful in the future after all. Although the other Isur - Istril, if he recalled correctly - certainly didn't think highly of him.

A sycophant, am I? I certainly gave that impression. If she thinks that, then I will not change it. I am still an Isur of the Pitrius clan, and I still remember my days in dear Sultros. If she chooses to underestimate me, well, that's something I can use. But such petty matters are nothing.

Daekos declined to join in the dancing, choosing instead to sit back in his chair and enjoy the genial, and exotic, atmosphere, sipping from a cup of mead and tasting the richly-flavoured smoke from a cigarillo similar to what he had occasionally tried at Vin's Smokehouse. His mind turned to more serious matters after making a small meal of the delicacies the servants had placed on the tables.

There's a need for the smithing equipment - anvils, hammers and so on. We'll have to have quality material to build the furnaces, and there's a lot more I'm going to have to look through everything at the Arma'Drex Smithy as soon as possible. As for my sacrifice... I don't think I could create something and use my mark before we set sail. So the most precious thing I have now would be...

Daekos grimaced as he contemplated throwing into the sea one of the few reminders he had left of his family.

Father's dead. Mother's dead. They're gone now. And I could sacrifice their rings - it'll be symbolic even.

Before he could think further, the doorway opened, and out stepped yet another Isur.

Daekos reacted after he noted her silver arm, reaching for his Djed, extruding it in the form of green, gaseous Res within his clenched fists, letting none of it seep out. Already he was considering the options he had,but most of all he was confused.

Voiding? No, you can't open portals from the Void into Mizahar. Summoning? She's a petching Isur. Some unknown form of magic then.

"Pitrius. Another one from my clan. What are you doing here?"