PM to join pour it out.

It's the day before Alement's grand opening and history comes calling on a pair of dreamers.

(This is a thread from Mizahar's fantasy role playing forums. Why don't you register today? This message is not shown when you are logged in. Come roleplay with us, it's fun!)

Built into the cliffs overlooking the Suvan Sea, Riverfall resides on the edge of grasslands of Cyphrus where the Bluevein River plunges off the plain and cascades down to the inland sea below. Home of the Akalak, Riverfall is a self-supporting city populated by devoted warriors. [Riverfall Codex]

Moderator: Gossamer

pour it out.

Postby Caelum on November 18th, 2014, 2:50 am

I wish to belong.

Xira's deepest admission struck a chord within the ethaefal. It was one of grave empathy. Caelum understood the need to belong very well, for he had belonged once, and been ever so very much at home. Then everything had changed, and changed again, his existence refusing to stagnate the unadulterated power of undeniable evolution swept him up and on. It was still spilling him down the dust of of a thousand roads.

Xira's eyes were sought and his expression was intimate and sober. "You are welcome here, Xira. Not just at Alements and at the Sanctuary, but with me. As my friend, at my side. Perhaps welcome is not quite belonging, but I think it's comforting all the same. Belonging, well." His smile was wry. "Time will tell."

They headed back into the tavern mains and Caelum slid behind the bar, trailing one hand lightly over the ivory marble. In the green shadows and soft lights, he looked to belong here, even if he didn't yet consciously understand it. He would, in time, and for now he pulled a bottle of already uncorked wine off of a shelf and held it up for Xira to see.

"Bluevein Blood," he explained. "It's one of Elise's favorites and I'm rather fond of it myself." A pair of glasses was lined up on the marble, shining and new. They had never before been used and Xira would be the first. It poured into the glass the color of a decadent twilight, so dark a violet as to almost be black.

"Rak'keli, yes." He ducked his chin in a nod and lifted his eyes in time to catch the courier watching him. When Xira looked away, a faint smile eased over his mouth with a hint of self deprecation. Golden eyes grew thoughtful and instead of sliding the glass to Xira, he lifted it to offer it out to him, hand to hand. "Syna," he continued, flawlessly. The sound of her name in his mouth was like a flower unfolding, such was the great wealth of emotion and history feeding his first goddess from the soil of his soul.

He hesitated. It was a little too long. "Nysel," he decided finally, and the silence of she who was unmentioned had a scent. It was blood.
User avatar
Caelum
The best way out is through.
 
Posts: 1977
Words: 1095776
Joined roleplay: March 18th, 2010, 10:27 pm
Location: Riverfall
Race: Ethaefal
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Scrapbook
Journal
Plotnotes
Medals: 12
Featured Character (1) Featured Contributor (1)
Featured Thread (1) Lore Author (1)
Peer Reviewer (1) Trailblazer (1)
Donor (1) One Thousand Posts! (1)
Extreme Scrapbooker (1) Power Fork (1)

pour it out.

Postby Xira Hezmek on January 10th, 2015, 9:15 am

What was a man to the gods? He who is so insignificant that the forces in the world my pass him by. Surely it was humbling to be among those marked by the gods for this very reason. For Caelum wore the gods' marks like fine adornments. Jewelry of favor or a mantle of friendship, if friendship could be worn on the skin. Which for the gods and goddesses, it clearly could.

He bowed his head as gracefully as he could. "I would be honored. But I know that my nature is roving." He paused, "Here, at the Sanctuary, with Kavala and with you, I think I might find a home. A place to return. I hope that doesn't sound silly.

The name of the wine caused the young man to shiver. Drinking blood was taboo among his people. Something that spiderlings and Zith might do, not a respectable or civilized people. But it was just a wine. A gruesomely named wine, yes, but nothing more then crushed grape. Watching Caelum standing there in the muted lighting, pouring a glass of that deeply colored wine, Xira could imagine no place Caelum was better suited.

He took a whiff of the wine and wrinkled his nose at the scent. It was deep, and smelled strongly of fermentation and crushed grape. He was no great expert in wine, but the courier knew it to be of quality. He looked up at Caelum for a moment before tentatively taking a sip. The bitter flavor made Xira's eyes water a bit, but it was delicious.

"Syna and Nysel. What an odd pair to care about." He remarked curiously. He tilted his head and peered up at the ethafel. It was a reminder that this man was not human. They were as fundamentally different as a cat was to a dog. "Sunlight by day, dreams by night. There is a poetic-ness about it though. Perhaps a bard might sing your tale one day." He smirked over the rim of his glass.

"You are a lucky man, I think, to have friendship with so many great deities. That is what a gnosis mark is, isn't it?" He whistled to himself softly as he thought about all the gods. "Many of the knights in Syliras have gnosis marks. But it seems to be more badges of authority then friendships with their gods. Perhaps this is not the case?" He asked to the air before continuing, "Yahal, Tyveth, Gnora... lovely Gnora."

Xira then hiccuped and asked yet another question, "Would you mind telling me about Nysel? I know precious little of the god of dreams and nightmares. How would one even go about worshipping him?"
Dear Graders: I collect location lore!
User avatar
Xira Hezmek
Here's the mail it never fails.
 
Posts: 286
Words: 227264
Joined roleplay: November 29th, 2013, 9:38 pm
Location: Riverfall
Race: Human
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Plotnotes
Medals: 2
Featured Contributor (1) Mizahar Grader (1)

pour it out.

Postby Caelum on April 29th, 2015, 4:39 pm

"If a bard starts singing of me, he's run out of real material," Caelum quipped. A smirk sharpened along the line of his mouth as he lowered his own wine glass from a deep swallow. Of course he had no need for drink, no more than he had for food in Syna's bright day. But what could a man argue with wine? It was never a need, but certainly a desire; and those the physician had in plenty. "I'm a simple a shopkeeper, Xira, with a habit for healing. I can't imagine many great storytellers would find their fodder in me."


It was not humility that had Caelum uttering those words, but a combination of humor and hope. It would be nice, he imagined, to be just that -- a plain man with his bar and his single, sweet goddess in Rak'keli. No quests. No black pasts. No grand adventures or entirely too tall dreams. Just him and a place where he could pretend to be at home.


“Faith and truth and logic,” he carried on, shaking his head with good humor. “Your gods make a strong statement about you, Xira. Though Tyveth and I have been known to cross on occasion, I can’t say I don’t admire all three of yours deeply. You could find your home here among us easily, and still roam true to your nature. I’m done with roaming myself. I spent the majority of my time here since returning wandering from place to place.” He cast a glance over Alements mains, still fresh and uninitiated but gleaming with prospect. “This is different. This is new. I’m trying to put down roots and remember maybe what that feels like.”


For Caelum, that was a fairly sizable admission. Not only was he rarely so talkative with a virtual stranger, but any mention of home typically shut him swiftly down.


He nursed his wine and set it aside so that he could pull a metal drink shaker – standard barware – toward him along with the granite stone mortar and pestle that was far from new. He had been using it for years, and it was smooth as glass on the bowl’s interior from that loving wear. A whole, round nutmeg was plucked from the carefully labeled array of herb and spice and tins sealed under the bar and he set it on a wood chopping block to hack right in half. One half was dropped into the mortar and the other was returned to the tin for later use. Three small star shaped anise seeds, two cloves, and one half inch stick of cinnamon were added to the mortar next. Taking up the pestle in his right hand, the mortar was cradled against his chest by his left arm and he began the familiar process of grinding the spices down.


“Do you know the story of Syna and Leth?” He asked Xira after a moment. “Their origin tale, that is. When you know that story, I think perhaps the worship of Nysel along with them makes more sense. As for worshipping the Dreamer –“ He grinned, close lipped and warm at the mention of the god. “He very much prefers the more active forms of worship and expects a great deal of self-motivation and drive from his followers. You’ll not catch his ear by muttering daily prayers, though they can’t hurt. You have to get up and go, seeking new perspectives and exploring the complex nature of reality and the truths of it. Imagination. Innovation. Ambition. These are things he cherishes.”
User avatar
Caelum
The best way out is through.
 
Posts: 1977
Words: 1095776
Joined roleplay: March 18th, 2010, 10:27 pm
Location: Riverfall
Race: Ethaefal
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Scrapbook
Journal
Plotnotes
Medals: 12
Featured Character (1) Featured Contributor (1)
Featured Thread (1) Lore Author (1)
Peer Reviewer (1) Trailblazer (1)
Donor (1) One Thousand Posts! (1)
Extreme Scrapbooker (1) Power Fork (1)

pour it out.

Postby Xira Hezmek on May 13th, 2015, 6:29 am

He smiled at Caelum. "Perhaps. But those are the gods of my home, my childhood. Perhaps it would not be out of the question to learn from, make friends with and maybe even worship some new gods." He looked about himself, considering the man's new roots and nodded. "New is good. Different." He trailed off, his mind perhaps slightly muddled from the wine, though it was just as easily just muddled with the difficult concepts of change and how it tended to affect him personally.

Change in Syliras always meant something being taken away from him. His mother, his mentor, his friends. There was nothing left for him there. He didn't have to go back. But... there was something here for him. Friends to be made, family to become a part of, lovers to love and life to build. He looked up at Caelum, shaking his head to his question, his eyes misted up as his self discipline broke. There was such sorrow in his core, that stone core of his being. It riddled him like veins of iron ore, waiting for that perfect lightning strike to send its searing touch across his being. He mourned his loss, now that he was out of the middle of his pain, but also overcome by hope. He could make a life for himself now. He whispered, his voice husky "How does it go?"

He gave Caelum an encouraging smile in an attempt to show that he really did wish to know. The courier simply had to push the complex emotions away until he could deal with them properly. Back was his internal discipline, and interestingly his curiousity.

The courier set down his cup and shifted in his chair. He pulled out a bit of charcoal and a piece of paper pilfered from Kavala's library and nodded as he absent-mindedly doodled. It helped him think sometimes, scratching out the symbols that came to mind, or drawing profiles of the people around him. And Caelum had a stunning profile.

He started with the shape of his head. The curve of the neck where it met his jaw. The rugged, yet perfectly flawless features of his chin and how they related to his lips and nose. And those eyes. Xira was a terrible artist. Simply had no skill at it. But even if he were to be a master artist, a man who could practically turn the living into lines of charcoal, he would still be unable to capture the complicated nature of those eyes. He started a new sketch, Syna's symbol, crowning his head between those horns. It took the time of Caelum's entire story to explain it. The entire time he concentrated on those words and his own thoughts as his hands and eyes took over the task of drawing.

It seemed interesting to Xira that Nysel had dominion over the figurative dreams as well, ambition, imagination and innovation. Though perhaps innovation was another god's domain. But to call something a person's dream, like a baker owning his own bakery, or an artist making breathtaking scenes from paint, and pursuing it as worship to Nysel... it was fascination itself. Change. Different. New.

He looked down at his paper and back up at Caelum. It had his likeness. But Xira was unskilled and it simply did not give him justice.
Dear Graders: I collect location lore!
User avatar
Xira Hezmek
Here's the mail it never fails.
 
Posts: 286
Words: 227264
Joined roleplay: November 29th, 2013, 9:38 pm
Location: Riverfall
Race: Human
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Plotnotes
Medals: 2
Featured Contributor (1) Mizahar Grader (1)

Previous

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 0 guests