Quest [Syka Quest] Mustering For The Journey

[Abase]

"Smile is beautiful on you, Miss Denuska." Abase said, the strange isur, as well as the rest of the crowd nearly forgotten, "And is beautiful thing you do in name of Goddess." He smiled and touched the bowl, looking to Delani as if to as if he could see it before taking it in his own hands. His eyes turned the bowl over a few times as he continued, "What you do is blessing, one that suit you well, and Goddess is wonderous as well. Never before have I known her, and how silly when paths so close to my own."

He looked up from the bowl, "You know of things you touch. Is curious. Wonder what you see when touch me?" He laughed, looking back at the bowl with rapt attention, "But as say, many happenings here. Too many to say no connected. We," Abase motioned to Delani and himself, "do walk same path, or path close to one another."

Abase closed his eyes once more, tapping into the power of the mark that glowed on his left shoulder blade. He found himself lifting, separating from the physical plane to float above it all, away from the physical world and into the world of the Chavena. For a moment Abase was enraptured by the beauty of it. Thousands upon thousands of interlocking stands. Lives that have lived, what they have seen and felt. It was tangled, interconnected and twisted in its convolutions, but Abase held and anchor. A single strand stuck out to him, leading from his own hands. The Chavi of this item, or rather the Chavi of all those who have touched it twisted together. Moving down the line of history Abase saw many faces of many races, of all ages and sexes. So many life times he passed, so many stories he wished he could delve into, but no he focused and continued down the path. Down until the very end until he found it. The end of the line was the Chavi of this bowl's creator. The image flashed before him. Red hair, golden eyes standing on top of a cliff with the bowl in hand. An odd thing to do Abase thought, but still.

Grasping this man's Chavi Abase pursued it farther back, watching shapes and images flash before him at intervals, some too quick for him to make out, and other's crystal clear. He grasped at one, the man as a boy climbing the high cliffs of Wind Reach, for Abase recognized those peaks, and overhead the sight of the protectors of Ivak's prison, the Wind Eagles and their riders. A feeling of awe, and raging desire filled Abase's mind. Longing to fly as high as these Guardians. To soar through the clouds. Feelings that were held by this man's past, written into his Chavi.

Abase's eyes opened a few breaths after he closed them, and he looked at the bowl in his hands, "Red hair and golden eyes. He crafter of Wind Reach, far from here. He watch skies, wishing to fly as the guardians did." He looked at Delani, "We walk path close, but I no know if yet path's touch." He handed the bowl back to Delani, "But I pray they do."

[Delani Denusk]

I agree, it is a blessing. Were it not for her intervention, my life would have ended lost in the grasses."

She looked away, her eyes finding Kench for a moment while she listened to the Akontak. His speech was not too difficult to understand, not as bad as Brodon's Common was. Her gaze returned soon enough with one eyebrow raising with his question.

"I'm afraid it does not work that way; I've tried. The Lykata only works on inanimate or deceased objects." That was all she'd ever gleaned from it, glimpses of things since its receipt from objects that had either died or were never living to begin with. Nonetheless, to say we are not in part intertwined in this world would be heresy.

Her attention fixed upon the Akontak firmly when he closed his eyes and seemed to separate himself from the present, Dela's head tilting slightly and leaning towards him, as though expecting words to come. What was he doing? The answer came soon after when the man revealed more of what she'd only been capable of peeking at. "I've heard of the city, but never before seen it. I thought, one morning, I'd seen a great bird flying through the skies but...I could not be sure. Only rumors have I ever heard of regarding Wind Reach; fascinating." She seemed genuinely intrigued by this.

The conversation appeared to be waning now and the woman took the bowl back, returning it to the table and folding her hands in her lap. "I am sure the trails we soon will ride will see us meeting often. If not by fate, then by choice." She was interested in learning how it was that he possessed such foresight (or was it retrosight?) to see more clearly what she could not. Her mind went to Loktupar, then, and for a moment, her eyes darkened even if the entertaining smile did not wane, as if some memory unpleasant had returned.

For now, the woman fell silent, returning her gaze to the other party goers and wondering what lay ahead on the trails leading to Syka.

[Istril]

Istril remained seated as others rose to join in the general reverie of the event, instead focusing herself on the food before her once again. Having been stuck with either traveler's stock or whatever she could find in Sunberth for far too long, the food before her appeared a veritable god-send, and she wasn't about to give up the remaining food to somebody else in order to dance. Reaching across the table to fill up her plate yet again, Istril couldn't help but notice a flash in the corner of her eye. Swiveling her head to examine it, she noted a door-like construct. Curiosity filled her mind, assailing her with questions that only formed half-way before being ejected by the next. When the shorter form stepped out of the door, she reacted off of instinct, rising from the table, kicking her chair out from behind her, and raising her fists in preparation for the fight she believed the perceived threat would start. It was only when she was safely in her fighting stance that she spent time actually investigating the figure. The first thing she noticed was a feeling that she was connected to Izurdin, as was Istril. Her bond, on the other hand, was notably stronger than either hers or Daekos's. Her eyes settled on her blue skin-- not so blue as the Akalaks, but tinted enough that her race was recognizable. Istril raised her eyebrow and instinctively looked to the form's arm, spying the familiar black crystal of her own clan. Pitrius. Another Pitrius, this one with the ability to appear through glowing doors. Syka would soon be an extension of the political maneuverings of the Silver Tower, if her gut's opinion held any truth. Reasoning that if that was the case, it would be best to start playing now, Istril lowered her guard. She watched as Daekos approached, and when an opening presented itself, spoke. "I am Istril Ironfist Pitrius. A pleasure to make your acquaintance," was all she said, nodding at the woman respectfully. The Isurian words flowed smoothly off of her tongue, and for the first time, Istril realized how much she had missed speaking and hearing her native tongue. At least this expedition would provide a relief for that, even if the company revealed itself less than adequate. With her introduction out of the way, and the threat proven to be harmless, Istril nonchalantly strode over to her chair, which had slid rather far as a result of her kick, righted it, and sat right back down at the table, focusing on her food yet again.

[Brodon Windriver]

If Mathias head heard Lucas' question about the possibility of a lost language of the Nyavanni, he gave no sign that Brodon could see. Perhaps it as only his own framing of the thought, in time with Lucas, that made him think it had been spoken loudly enough to BE heard. At any rate, he meant to pursue the question. He stepped towards the expedition leader, only to have a curious glow cross the man's features and his expression transform to one of wonder.

"Mr. Syka...sir? Mr. Mathias?...sir?" He turned to see what could have such an effect on a man that had surely seen everything and found himself also staring in combined fear and fascination. It was not just the sudden appearance of a woman with a silver-spangled arm of what looked like black steel. Two others present had already displayed arms of such a nature. It was the multi-colored clouds and mountains dominating the landscape through the rift behind her, and the stacked boxes and barrels among a few samples of other materials laid about her feet.

The existing plane of the garden in which they stood was entirely at odds with the deep vision of astral expanse evident through the "doorway". They could NOT both be true! He stepped forward as the door closed on the vision. It suddenly occurred to him that the brief glimpse had shown lumber and what may have been nails in one of those barrels. There were other basics of construction.

Brodon was astounded! It had occurred to him earlier that there had been no mention of whether there was expected to be a harbor in Syka like there was here. He had seen Riverfall's harbor before the party had even begun and been amazed by the workings of the massive constructs of loading and unloading that had been in use there. What if none were present in Syka? How were they going to unload the ships? It was something he was going to ask before the subject of lost languages had come up.

'Is this how we will unload the ships? This woman will make a doorway on the ship for the members to load goods into and then unload through a similar doorway at the site?' he thought eagerly. Of course he had no concept of the rarity of this craft or its limitations. He saw only what he assumed would be a tremendously useful shortcut to the endless comings and goings of boats to and from ship to shore.

He stepped up, his initial fear forgotten. "Much welcomes for you, miss Pythone," he grinned broadly. "It is being only clearly why gods would be for wanting you here. Such skill in crafting handiest passage...making...is of being great use for this...mission." He took a sidling step, extending one hand to her, and the other waving towards the bounty of food. "Please, let her being able to sit down for eating."

[Ialari Pythone]

Ialari struggled with the overwhelming feeling of anxiety that began to form in her gut. It had been so long since being around so many people that she didn't know exactly how to proceed. Ialari noted one of the humans, from the looks of it a young one, draw near. It took her a few seconds to grasp his words as he mentioned something about ships and doorways and goods and the like. While she was grateful for his offering of a hand, she did not take it though did move to sit down. She leaned her staff against the table next to her making sure it was never out of her sight. She offered the boy a slight smile and said, "Young man, I wish I could say I understand what you are saying. Unfortunately, I don't possess the ability to create shortcuts and passages like you seem to think I can. My arrival here is quite a mystery to even myself and I expect it has more to do with the will of the gods than it does with any skill I may possess in the disciplines of magic. You are kind though to allow me to sit and share your feast."

It was only a short matter of time before a couple of individuals, one of them being the male isur she had met moments earlier, the other, a rather large, green-skinned man of the likes Ialari had never seen before, approached.. There were so many strange people gathered around her that it only made for the good start of a headache. The large green man had a bowl of food in his hand which immediately drew Ialari's attention. The cramping in her stomach grew even greater.

Looking up at the man, she took the offered food and wine and gave a thankful smile. For such a large individual, he seemed to have something of a gentle tone to his voice as he spoke even if his grasp of the human tongue seemed a bit loose. To Abase, she said in a soft, grateful voice; her dark eyes hard to read, "My greatest thanks to you, friend." Ialari began devouring the food and gulping the wine while trying to hold on to some semblance of dinner etiquette; not an easy task. With each bite, with each drink, she paused, tilted her head back slightly and savored every aspect of the experience.

When the male isur approached, Ialari slowed her feasting and offered another smile. Wiping her mouth, she listened to him introduce himself before responding in the isurian tongue, "Thank you for the welcome, brother. Indeed there is much to speak of. I am happy to offer what information I can though there are some things that are definitely saved for a better time, better place and under much different circumstances. You honor me with your display of courtesy and generosity." She took a few more bites of food before washing it down with more wine.

Not long after, another isur, a woman also of the Pitrius clan, approached Ialari and intoduced herself. Ialari swallowed another gulp of wine before giving the woman a very wide smile. Meeting two of her own kind, her own clan, in one day after years away from home was a gift among gifts. In the isurian tongue, Ialari said, "Well met, sister Istril. I am honored to meet you. Izurdin has blessed me this day with the presence of two of my blood."

To any who were listening to her, Ialari mentioned a few things between bites of food as the bowl in front of her was quickly growing empty. "The gods have guided me along life's journey ever since I left Sultros. It has led me to places such as Nyka, Sahova and even the very realm in which the gods reside. In fact, the latter is where I was before I arrived here. I was attempting to return to Sahova to tend to a few personal matters when something strange happened. I did not arrive in Sahova as I had expected. Instead, I arrived here. The how and why is what I still don't know. Nothing in my life however happens without cause. The Divine Father and Milady Dira must have something in mind else I wouldn't be here now in Riverfall. I hear talk of ships and expeditions. Can anyone tell me more? Is that what this gathering is all about? Perhaps my being here has something to do with that."

[Brodon Windriver]

Brodon endured a wide range of emotions over the next few moments. Disappointment that this new woman was not as skilled in this remarkable craft as her timely arrival had made it appear, gratitude at her courtesy, embarrassment at the sudden sense that he was intruding upon her reunion with the other obvious members of her people, eagerness to clarify that the gods had led HIM a considerable trek to arrive here for this expedition without explanation as well, and empathy for her desire to KNOW why it was so.

"Sultros" he had heard sparse mention of in his life, and at least one other member of the party with the extraordinary arms had made mention of it tonight, the other woman, as he recalled. And the male had called her 'clansmate' prior to that, so he could only assume 'Sultros' to be the land or city of their people. He did not know anything about this "Sahova" she mentioned, nor "Nyka", beyond its similarity in sound with their current destination.

His enthusiasm was dampened a bit by her claim to have resided in the realm of the gods. He thought that to be quite a boast, and one difficult to gainsay or verify. But with that singular ability she'd displayed, plus the look of the "landscape" he'd seen through the doorway, he thought it might just be true.

But then the floor fell figuratively from beneath him as she continued. He did not know offhand who she meant as "Divine Father", no doubt the god of her people, as his would be Zultrav, or Yahal, the god of his adopted Benshiran culture, but he knew all too well who Dira was.

He turned away before his scowl would be perceived. The goddess who'd interfered, the goddess who'd armed a mortal with the means to treacherously usurp Ruros, as his priest friend in Yahebah had explained to him. Though he had always counseled respect to be shown to all the gods, he nonetheless compared her to the String-puller false god, Sagallius, the puppeteer, and also the dark defiler, the god of treachery and betrayal, whose name he would not speak. The string-puller had stolen the heart of the god of travel and doorways. 'Was that how this woman had gotten her power? Devotion to Dira? Was "her lady" Dira involved in that act of divine treachery as well?'

Brodon was not a zealot. He had no quarrel with the thought of natural death being an honorable domain for a deity. But in his view, Dira had stepped beyond that to ally in an act of manipulation and treachery on a level with any vile act committed by any other god. It was not as though he felt it to be his place to act against any god, but he did not know now if he could truly be at ease with this woman.

[Sirroco]

The din of conversation and music broke down in a staggered decrescendo as more of the attendees noticed the strange arrival of Pythone. The Isurian woman confessed that some magical means had brought her to the place, though she seemed as confused about why as the wide-eyed partiers that stared at her. The very mention of Sahova gave the Svefra a shudder, wondering why an Isurian, or any living being, would seek that place. Once the shock of her arrival began to wane, the Akontak boldy welcomed her, breaking the trepidation that held the others, and she was addressed by their Isurian woman and the young Drykas man. Levissa had responded in a similar fashion to Ialari Pythone's mention of the Island of the Dead, which he found curious, given her professed occupation of ghost hunting. Sirroco, admittedly, knew little of the practice. The girl leaned forward, as if to contain the conversation between the two of them. "I don't know much about magic, other than that of the Sea King. It unnerves me, honestly, to mess with powers like that." The Svefra shrugged, the two of them still eying the stranger. "I know the Watchtowers used to have that kind of magic, to move you from one to another across the world. But no one knows if they even work any more." His gaze shifted to the trouble gray eyes of the spiritist. "And why would anyone want to go to Sahova?" The otter had managed to crowd onto Sirroco's lap, earning a warning glance from the fisherman. "Now is not a good time Tain." The Svefra admonished in a hushed voice.

[Gossamer]

Mathias, who had been enormously enjoying the dancing, especially with his lovely partner, had paused with the rest of the group. Cautious by nature and extremely scientifically minded, he'd waited and observed while the rest of the members. But when the conversation stalled, he patted the lovely Lacerta on the shoulder to thank her for the dance and came forward.

"Yes, we are mounting an expedition. It will take us across the Suvan on a short sail and into a lost harbor where a city once existed called Syka. I am Mathias Syka, expedition leader, organizer, and funder. My people - my entire family - traces is origins back to Syka pre-Valterrian. There is a mystery there. The Nyavanni, a race long lost to Mizahar before the Valterrian. We go to see why they were lost and why Syka was abandoned or destroyed. There should be a great deal to feed curious minds with and magic and mystery aplenty. We hope to restart the city and make it a destination in Falyndar where humans would finally be welcome. It sounds as though your journey here was not by chance, My Lady. Would you too like to accompany us? We are mustering for the journey here, having a mixer to get to know one another, and celebrate before the real work begins. We sail in three days. Tomorrow, everyone needs to get me a supply list of things they will need for the journey. Most of these folks here will be setting up shops or businesses once in Syka. If we find there what I think we mean to find there, we will indeed have an influx of people and perhaps an economy to drive our new city before too long." He added, looking thoughtful.

Mathias glanced around. Though no one seemed too off put by the woman's arrival, the party had taken a bit of a turn for more of a mystery than a festivity. He turned to the musicians, nodded to them, asking them to start the music back up again, then looked around for someone else to dance with. The man knew when someone was a threat and someone wasn't. Ialari was no threat to the party, at least not in the foreseeable future. She had so many possibilities though. Help. Inspiration. And there was a glimmer off something else there - a key perhaps - to unlocking other mysteries that might be revealed in Syka.

"You should consider joining us. Both here in the festivities, and on the expedition. Like you say, your Gods perhaps brought you here for a reason. Don't waste that." He advised with a smile and took another drink from a passing server, still looking for someone to dance with.

[Ialari Pythone]

Ialari looked to the man who stepped forth. She stood to greet him and in response to Mathias' introduction, Ialari smiled and respectfully nodded her head as she had already given her own name moments before. As he spoke, she listened; her face tightening as she considered what he had to say. The idea of rediscovering a lost city and its people brought more than a little curiosity for her. A lost people and the remains of an ancient civilization, indeed there could be something there for me. Ialari told herself as she listened.

As Mathias continued to layout his general plans and purpose of the expedition, Ialari considered his offer of joining and of the possibility of establishing this new settlement. She'd have the opportunity of continuing her research while hopefully relinking to her dominion. Surpassing that, the chance to study the remains of an ancient civilization was too much to pass up.

When Mathias had finished and presented her with the choice, Ialari grinned lightly and said, "Mr. Mathias, indeed the gods have saw fit to send me here for a reason. I'd be honored to join your expedition. I will consider my needs for this trip and get a list to you." Ialari took another quick glance around at the odd mixed crowd of people who apparently would be joining her. I've a feeling this going to be quite a unique experience. I wouldn't waste that for anything." Ialari remembered how Mathias was dancing before he paused to speak to her and his mention of enjoying the festivities gave her an idea. While she was not known for her ability to dance or her kind feelings regarding humans, she did respect the strength inherent in leadership and Mathias was obviously a leader. Besides, what better way to learn more about a person than by getting really close.

"Mr. Mathias, if you would honor me further, it has been some time since I've enjoyed such a living celebration. May I have a dance?" Although tired, her hunger was satiated and with that came some amount of renewed vigor. However, as far as looking the part of a suitable dance partner, her attire wasn't exactly suited for formalities. Her black skirt appeared well worn, cut a little shorter than usually in order to remove the tears and fraying from surviving the wilds. Her black boots too were worn and rough though still somewhat serviceable. A simple strip of narrow black cloth was wrapped around her chest if only to provide some semblance of modesty. It wasn't something she cared much for yet the rare few living humans she'd associated with in Sahova found it more appropriate. Ialari thanked herself silently for remembering to bathe the previous night.

[Brodon Windriver]

Brodon made a determined effort to shed any apprehensions or melancholy, but this whole atmosphere reminded him suddenly of his send-off feast from Endrykas nearly a year and a half ago. The tents, the cushions, the entire quick-set-up-and-break-down look of the arrangements. Fold-out tables and benches, laden with food set on platters with handles for quick removal.

He understood the necessity of such. After all, they were going to be leaving in only two days. There was certainly no sense in constructing a permanent building. But the connection was easily made. The only thing setting it apart for him was the fact of his people being the minority here. There was really only Delani here, and she was currently talking to a big, green man. 'Not too many of those in Endrykas.'

Were the gods trying to get him used to other cultures deliberately? He'd spent time in Ahnatep. He hadn't enjoyed it at all until he had stumbled into some notoriety by exposing the gang of phony fox guards. He'd been gravely wounded in the process. This apparently lent him an even higher measure of favor from the powers that be.

Only then did he begin to see how "accepted" people were treated. But even though he was now accorded the respect due a citizen. it was only accommodation, not true acceptance. He'd heard that the Pressorah herself...'May her glory shame the desert sunrise'...He smirked, the honorific phrase came as instinctively as it did sarcastically...In fairness, she had seen to his recovery expenses. But it was not lost on him that all the praises were based on the honor with which he would be "remembered". Clearly, she was hinting that he should go now.

And he had, across the Burning Lands, much of it on foot after his run-in with bandits. But Yahebah had been worth it. There, he felt, was a culture clean and pure of spirit, if admittedly, rough and simple. He'd felt less and less a Drykas, and more a Benshiran every day. It showed in the loose, light, desert attire he currently enjoyed.

Even the other humans at the party were representing other cities and cultures. Those that didn't have scales, or horns, or metallic-looking arms still spoke of odd trends and styles, holidays and histories. He had no attitude towards these other cultures of course, they were every bit as legitimate and valid as his own. But he wondered at the path he'd been set on that seemed to take him ever further into unknown peoples' cultures.

Was he abandoning his people? Was it by the gods' designs? Was the current change in the horseclans policies towards their neighbors something the gods had spared him from? Delani had informed him of the drastic situation there and the drastic solutions that had been implemented. Were the Drykas even his people anymore?

He suddenly snarled inwardly at his gloomy reminiscing. This was not helping! He decided to have no more strong drink. He could see it was causing him to lean to the maudlin side of brooding. It was a time for celebration! 'Yes,' he decided, 'the gods DO wish me to shed the old and embrace the new!' His Drykas heritage was lost to him now, maybe it would return, maybe not. But he had a rare opportunity, to be in on the foundation of a new culture, formed of a blend of many of the old. There would be debate and contention, yes. But there would also be a birth of new ideas, growth and unity. Much of it forged in shared adversity.

But tonight he would dance, he would laugh, he would tell tales, he would sing! 'Let the others cover their ears.' he thought with a wry grin as he stepped back into the festivities.