Closed Echoes in the Dark Pt. 1

Archailist, Aventis, Nivel, Oriah, Marrick, and Sera Mora are out on a training mission into the wilds when they discover something unexpected, and dangerous.

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Stretching northward along the coastline of the Suvan Sea, the Cobalt Mountains are the home of the Bronze Wood, numerous ruins, and creatures both strange and fantastical.

Echoes in the Dark Pt. 1

Postby Marrick Corvis on December 2nd, 2014, 4:53 am

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Echoes in the Dark Pt 1

Winter 5th 514 av. 9th bell


The overcast sky roiled like waves in an endless ocean. Each dipping and flowing purple and gray puff of cloud threatened snowfall. Yet, Marrick could feel in his bones, a fair journey lay ahead. At least where the weather was concerned. He breathed deep of the crisp cool air and wound the scarf that Oriah had given him a little tighter. It had been hinted to him by Ser Whitevine to dress warmly. When he had asked why, David simply chuckled and reminded him that Sera Mora was leading them into the wild. Which meant they could be travelling just about anywhere. Even into the cold passes of the Cobalts.

The Kelvic watched those mountains now and felt a chill tickle its way up his spine regardless of what his senses told him of the weather. They looked cold, that was all it took to make him feel their icy winds. He huffed a puff of misty breath into the calm air, and turned his attentions to the troop that followed Sera Mora and her massive Tiaden. The Warhorse’s rump was a mass of muscle. It was an impressive sight, and hard not to stare at. Marrick shook his head and blinked away the image of horse ass burning into his mind.

The Dark haired squire looked about him. A strange menagerie of squires and their mounts. They all looked hungry, but not for food. Though, Marrick wanted nothing more than a salted and boiled potato or a slice of pan fried chicken liver wrapped in bacon at this very moment. No… they were hungry for adventure. He could see it in their eyes. Well, not the Pycons. For the life of him, the Kelvic could never tell what they were thinking. Their eyes always felt empty. Though, when close enough the dark haired squire had found that he could see the joy in Archailist’s face when someone gave him the credit and respect the little squirrel deserved.

Archailist rode his little war dog Xarex, whose paws trod silently over the mourning frost of the wandering wild. The Pycon looked good. Well, as good as a lively bit of clay might. His clay seemed to have changed little, and Marrick felt a great comfort knowing the spry little fellow was with him on this journey. No trip into the wild was to be handled lightly, and having a skilled fighter always brought a measure of comfort.

Then there was another Pycon. Marrick had gleaned her name was Nivel. Her exploits were known to a degree, a mage squire. Yet he had not had the chance to talk to her yet. A pleasure the Kelvic truly looked forward to. As usual he had spent the ride thus far sharing his attentions between Oriah, and the scenery. Though, the Dark haired squire felt that the lithe Benshira was by far more beautiful than any peak, or swathe of forest he’d seen, yet he had a measure of Bias.

Nivel, was an odd creature. No odd wasn’t quite the word. Creative was a far better term. While Archailist emulated a squirrel, Nivel’s shape was almost otherworldly. The Kelvic lilted his head to one side as he analyzed her while she wasn’t looking. She was almost sinewy, and her shape held Marrick’s Curiosity to the point of enslavement. Though there were more in their party than just Pycons.

There was of course himself, and Oriah. The Benshira was at times all Marrick could think about. Yet his attentions were held by the rather tall, rugged looking, multi-armed man. Eypharian was the word that had been tossed about him. A race that Marrick had never encountered personally. Apart from Nivel, this man had the most Character of them all. A nose twisted as a politician, and a scar that ran from his ear to his chin. The Kelvic couldn’t help but find a morbid curiosity about the stories behind each little alteration the poor lad had suffered.

Regardless of their pasts… a squire every one of them. Elected by their patrons for this training mission into the wilderness. Marrick couldn’t help but smile at a thought that kept tugging at the back of his mind. After all the ghostly stories of the wilds, and seeing a small piece of it himself, the Kelvic couldn’t help but think that the wilds better watch out for them.
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Echoes in the Dark Pt. 1

Postby Nivel on December 3rd, 2014, 6:50 pm




Sera Grey was told of a training mission that was in need of a squire with magic abilities, She reluctantly offered her squire Nivel. Mage Knights were always in demand since they provided insights into things the regular knights might overlook, Mage squires were of no exception. With all the numbers dwindling lately, Nivel was suddenly put in the lime light as one of the more skilled squires in the art of djed. Not even that long ago Nivel was only ever noticed for her bizarre look and almost equally bizarre personality. Very few would ever think that the small little creature collecting pebbles and sewing buttons into her clay flesh would be sought after.

Before Nivel was ready to set out on her mission, her patron tried to provide Tall Folk sentiments of warmer clothes or even her leather armour and teapot shaped helmet. Nivel only really felt like taking her key shaped pypole she had named Grick, A weapon that was more of a safety blanket since she rarely ever used it. She wedged Grick into the clay on her hip so that it looked like it was in a sword sheath. The pycon didn't really need warmer clothes, if it did get colder her clay would be a little stiff but she was sure she would be okay. Sera Grey wasn't so sure and wrapped extra scarfs around Nivel's Kelvic mount Patcha as well as small little dog sweater, Patcha was unimpressed but didn't complain.

A knight named Sera Mora was leading Nivel and a few other squires into the wilderness, Nivel wasn't sure where but that was part of the fun. It wasn't the first mission Nivel had embarked on but it was probably the most important. She hadn't been with this many squires at once, what ever they were about to face it was bound to be earth shattering. At least she hoped it would be, in her tiny nexis Nivel could see them fighting some large terrible beast the size of a mountain with teeth as big as pine trees. In reality they were most likely just going to learn about what it is to be a knight and maybe learn about how to respect nature.

Nivel looked around at her travelling companions, The only one she knew was Arch the squirrel. It was little surprise that he had been chosen, His agility and fighting ability were getting much praise.It was hard to ignore his hard work and dedication to the Order and Sera Grey would often tell Nivel to be more like him. Nivel didn't like being compared to other squires especially the squirrel since she felt like she would never measure up.

The second squire to catch her attention was the one with the many arms. Nivel hadn't seem many tall folk with that many appendages and it fascinated her a great deal. She wanted to barrage than man with questions but restrained her urges, since she was told it was rude to do countless times by Sera Grey.

Patcha seemed more interested in the dark haired tall folk, She kept turning her head to look at him and Nivel had to keep reminding the mount to keep her eyes on the road. Nivel didn't know why the kelvic found him so interesting, he looked like any other Tall Folk to her. Although he wasn't completely ordinary, she caught a hint of strange marks on his wrist. Nivel would have to get to know the man more, maybe Patcha was sensing something she wasn't.

The Last of the party was a tall folk female, who was almost as beautiful as Nivel's father. She of course lacked the many snake tentacles her father was known for and only time would tell if they had anything remotely in common. Although It was still nice to be reminded of one of the pycons that raised her, She missed her parents dearly. The raven haired Tall folk seemed to be spending a lot of his time looking in the direction of this female, and thought maybe she reminded him of his father too.

"So,,,I'm Nivel" The pycon awkwardly broke the silence "I hail from Pyconia... and I like to collect rocks..." Nivel wasn't very good at introductions but wanted desperately to know about her new companions.
"This is my trusty mount Patcha" Nivel gave a little pat on the head of her tiny corgi mount "and this is my mighty weapon Grick" She made elaborate gestures to her odd looking weapon attacked to her hip.
"I already know Arch, but I don't know any of you...could you tell be a bit about yourselves?"
Her ears began to flutter in anticipation as she waited for them to speak.

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Echoes in the Dark Pt. 1

Postby Aventis on December 4th, 2014, 9:35 pm

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“‘Learn to be a man’ he said.” Aventis muttered to himself. He, sitting upon a horse borrowed, had sat in generally the same spot outside the gates of Syliras since approximately four bells past midnight. The sun was still low in the sky and, in comparison to earlier that morning, it was warmer. He didn’t feel sick, but he had been cold, very cold, for a very long time, as Ser Utis had taken his cloak upon the squire’s hesitation to remove it himself. And, as punishment for disobeying, Aventis had been sent to the rendezvous point over two bells early without anything other than his simple shirt to warm him. He rubbed his upper arms with his lower ones sullenly, using his lower arms to rub his upper ones. “‘You need to be strong’ he told me.” Aventis stared into the distance, utterly disinterested in his surroundings. He had pondered multiple times cutting his horse open with his weapons to stay warm inside it, but he felt like that would be cruel to the animal, and a bit pointless considering that the poor beast’s flesh was colder to the touch than Aventis’. “‘You need to realize your own gifts’ he claimed.” the squire murmured. He had recently taken to repeating his knight’s filibuster over scornfully, the quiet chatter of his lower jaw against his upper muddling his malicious whispers.

Aventis had known what his knight had volunteered him for a few days prior to the actual activity. Or, he had known what Utis had told him. That man was a perplexity. The only thing he knew was that he would be patrolling with a few other squires, he did not know which, into the Bronze Woods for a few bells. Aventis was by far the earliest of the small group to show up, but was slowly followed by now four other squires and a patron knight. Nearly all of them looked at Aventis with a gaze he knew all too well. He had done his best to ignore it, setting his gaze intently on the distance and pretending that no one was near him.

He recognized but one of the squires. Although only scouted in a quick glance, there was no mistaking the Archailist. Although Aventis respected both his prowess in battle and his knightly skill, the sight of the peculiar little animal sent rough chills up Aventis’ already frozen spine. The squire was a magnet for trouble. He didn’t want to think about the last encounter he had had with the squirrel, and shuddered at the image of the scene.

The rest of the group were fairly normal, save the second little Pycon, who was a curiosity to be explored after assessment of the three other figures nearby. The latest arrival, a man with raven black hair and sunken eyes, seemed simple enough. He wasn’t dangerous per se, but Aventis didn’t feel like he would likely ever be able to trust the stranger, regardless of potential relationship. He had a somewhat… Bestial aspect to him, yet at the same time flaunted a cold and intelligent quality. His sunken eyes, Aventis noticed, seemed to return to the same subject time and time again, the subject being the female squire, who apparently was of interest to the man. Albeit pretty, the female had no apparent distinguishing qualities about her, save being a squire. She had the one that earlier had her patron knight accompany her, who was currently with the group, not yet calling orders or taking obvious authority.

Finally, there was the second clay figure, who sat upon a corgi dog. A peculiar thing, it was. While Archailist was realistic to the point where Aventis had originally mistaken him for an actual squirrel, Aventis couldn’t decide if Nivel looked like a whimsical being from a child’s daydream or a demented creature of a madman’s ponderings. It, with a well formed face the squire had decided portrayed feminine gender, adorned itself with seemingly useless bat wings on either side of its head, formed in terrifying detail, as well as what looked to be a snout in place of nose. Behind it was a tail that had split itself in two, which Aventis had to assume was for movement, either by slither or step. On her clay hip, she had what Aventis assumed to be a weapon of sorts, likened more to a sewing needle than a sword, and it appeared to be pierced through her hip.

Aventis sent a hopefully unnoticed confused glance at the clay girl, turning his head back immediately to the distance as soon as his assessment of the group was concluded, and resumed doing his best to keep his arms warm. The silence at this point was deafening.

So… I am Nivel.” The girl stated, presumably in an attempt to break the unbearable silence that had made its way into the setting. “I hail from Pyconia… And I like to collect rocks…

Pyconia. Hm. Aventis thought. Perhaps the home of Pycons. Beside that, Aventis took note of Nivel’s speech patterns. She sounded less of a brave knight-to-be and more of a rambling toddler. Although Aventis found no issue with it, the girl’s speech was peculiar, especially for a squire. Aventis had assumed her to be the adult version of a clay person, if they had the concept of adulthood at all, but he supposed it was entirely possible that she was, indeed, a child.

Duly noted.

This is my trust mount Patcha,” She continued, presumably referring to the corgi dog she sat upon. “and this is my mighty weapon Grick.” She exclaimed again, presumably referring to the peculiar little weapon at her side. “I already know Arch, but I don’t know any of you… Could you tell me a bit about yourselves?

Yeah, I’m petching cold. Aventis thought morosely. He was in no mood to be playful, and beyond that, he was absolutely in no mood to be friendly. He sighed through chattering teeth, taking but a moment before responding to the girl. He did not move his gaze, which was now iron set on the horizon. “Nivel, I’m sure you’re a very nice Pycon, so I’m going to level with you, and preemptively apologize for my first impression on you.” He said through chattering teeth. “I have been sitting out here under strict instructions possibly before you were awake with no form of coat or cloak. It’s cold, Nivel. Very, very cold. I would know. And I am not a friendly person at the moment. I’m deeply sorry Nivel, but my patience has run thinner than the layer of ice that has called my face home for a few bells now. I’m sure you’re a very nice girl and I would be more considerate on any other occasion. But right now I am not happy. I would very much like to move, if the rest of you feel so inclined, because that is something I have not yet had the privilege of doing since arrival.” He said, completely earnest in his apologies. Though it may not have been apparent through the sarcasm, he had meant every word. “I promise I’ll get over myself…” he stopped, a slight breeze rolling over the trees, nearly shattering the squire into shards of broken ice. “Just… Give it a bit.”


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Echoes in the Dark Pt. 1

Postby Oriah on December 5th, 2014, 3:59 am

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Liars, Tempters, Tricksters, Hedonists, Slavers, Bringers of Hai...

...Murderers.


"Azari," came her patron's smooth, even tone. "Now is not the time."

Oriah blinked, let loose a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, and flicked her gaze quickly elsewhere. The Benshira knew Sera Mora's inky eyes were upon her, but she continued staring at the cold, quiet scenery in a rare display of resentment. Of course, the feeling was mild, and she found no actual fault in the knight's choices. But it wasn't exactly easy, going through with the exercise and having been given no warning prior there would be an Eypharian present.

It was hard not to notice. The man was, after all, rubbing one set of arms with another to keep himself warm.

Unreadable as ever, the knight merely turned back around and continued leading the group as if nothing had happened. If she was put off by her squire's miffed silence, she showed no signs. The green ones would need to learn that brother and sisterhood within the Order overruled any misgivings or past grievances. Knights were judged on merit and virtue, not their ancestry. Sera Mora had hoped this carefully planned mission would teach them just that. Whatever Oriah knew of her fellow squire's people, it was all secondhand, the Chaktawe had confirmed.

For a moment, Oriah distracted herself with the comforting, yet simultaneously stirring visage of a certain blue-eyed, raven haired squire. Between trying not to get an eyeful of Anwin's glorious rear up front and maintaining a gentle lead for her own, piebald mare behind, it was difficult at best to steal glances. But steal them she did, and shamelessly so. A smile grew steadily across her features.

It almost worked, too. Almost. Until the many-armed man began to speak.

The Benshira herself found the Eypharian's mannerisms far more off-putting than his multiple arms. Those accusatory labels that had flashed through her head earlier were but the kinds of things she'd heard from her Elders all throughout her childhood. It was an involuntary sort of mantra that Oriah quickly recognized for its baseless malice. She'd never met an Eypharian before, so how could she knew if any of it was true, let alone applicable to her fellow squire?

But if his heritage was one thing, his attitude was entirely another. Try as she might, Oriah found it difficult to withhold judgment. He was snippish, he was impatient, and he was being awfully cold to the good-willed Pycon, Nivel. The Eypharian wasn't the only one present who was desert-bred, but he seemed alone in his blatant, however cleverly worded, complaints.

The Benshira sighed. Poor fellow looked terribly cold though, his plight made all the more poignant by her own, similar intolerance of the Winter chill. And he was honest in his explanation, blunt and testy as it may have sounded.

There was, of course, another reason for Oriahs' general silence. It seemed the racial recognition was one sided; if the Eypharian knew her for what she was, he hid it well. But her accent was still noticeable after all these seasons spent in Sylira. Even if he didn't recognize it at first, she'd mark herself as a foreigner regardless. And then the million miza question would arise...

But Nivel was so earnest, so curious. And she had just been turned down without even a name to show for it. Steeling her resolve, Oriah tightened her grip around Pie's reigns and decided to speak at last.

"Well, Nivel, while our brother warms to us, I would be glad to tell you a little of myself. I am Oriah, and this," she nudged her chin towards the mare in tow, "is my patient friend, Pie. My weapons are not as mighty as yours, but I like to practice my sling, and I used to be a dancer before Ya-- "

She barely caught herself in time. "--before I was accepted as Sera Mora's squire."

Intentionally failing to mention her origins, Oriah changed subjects as she marveled at the way Nivel's clay form glittered subtly even in the gloom. She could see it now and then under the armor, minute glimpses that twinkled like bits of gems spread across her body. The Benshira had never seen anything quite like it, not even on the other Pycon present, Archailist.

"Forgive me if I am rude for asking, but how does your skin..." Oriah struggled to find the right Common word. "...shines...like many green...lights?"

Raising her free hand, she tried to mimic the act of things sparkling and glittering with her fingers.


"Common"
"Shiber"
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Echoes in the Dark Pt. 1

Postby Archailist on December 5th, 2014, 9:00 pm

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My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

Another day, another meaningless exercise. All he ever saw these activities were, were meaningless little busy-jobs meant to give the squirrel something to do. He knew how to fight, how to ride, how to do this and do that.. he'd been instructed, he'd failed to understand, listened again. Five years of preparation, and then an extra two seasons under the expert tutelage of the red-skinned, often red-faced Akalak had been steadily hammered into his mind, as a smith must hammer a sword over and over, under intense heat, to form its sharpened edge. For all the good it'd done him, he was still seen as and treated as a child. At least, he had a feeling that this was what Ser Iros wanted him to feel. They'd begun arguing again, since the series of extremely unfortunate events over the end of the past season. Those that he held responsible for such things, in his own mind, sat and walked at his side now. The only one who's name was still mostly unsullied was Oriah; he wondered how long that would last.

Needless to say, the squirrel was in a black mood. Blacker than most, in fact. He'd taken to trying his luck by balancing precariously on the back of his ever-cheery mount on his feet with the reins still gripped tightly between his paws so that he could at least grip something. He was quite used to balancing on objects, be they still or moving - he wasn't used to balancing on dogs. Even with the thick tail twitching with all the speed of a clay-coloured blur, his body still swayed with every step the dog took, as his body struggled to maintain itself. No matter how funny it may have looked, his face remained hard as stone in concentration. So unfortunate that the others apparently had different ideas in mind, and soon their talking distracted the squirrel enough for his footing to slip from the saddle, nearly throwing him right off the side of the dog. At least he had the sense to hook his foot over one of the stirrups to avoid planting himself into the dirt.

"I'm guessing I don't need to explain myself, do I." He finally turned back to the rest of the group. Aventis, the four-armed suicidal one; Nivel, almost equally suicidal but nevertheless a noble Pycon; Marrick, more suicidal than Nivel but less suicidal than Aventis, as well as nearly utterly selfless. Strange how they could all be grouped together in such a way. Oriah, of course, was the outlier. He'd never really seen her doing anything particularly dangerous. Perhaps she was the smartest of the group. He'd never really had the opportunity, nor the reason to look at the majority of those that he knew and compare them to find the ones that were better. Now was a better time than ever.

Bottom of the pile was Aventis, for obvious reasons. He hadn't paid attention to the chimes or bells since they'd gone out, but either way, the multi-limbed human - the Pycon really didn't know what he was, so he was going to go with a human who'd managed to alter himself with magic - was the first one to begin complaining. "Of course, what a surprise. He's not happy. How glad I am that there aren't any Yukmen around so that he can throw himself in front of them in the hopes that freeing the blood from his neck will warm his cheeks." A black mood indeed, but apart from the little spat, he said nothing else. His paws did grace the wide assortment of weapons he'd brought with him, though. A Py-Whip at his hip, a Py-Sword at the other side, a Py-Pole crossed over his back and a Py-String coiled at his back, just above his tail - all held together by a lovely, tiny weapons harness.

That morning, when he'd hoped to get down to the Pits and begin some more combat training - possibly even go on a little patrol around the city, check up with the citizens and have a friendly conversation with some of his friends - he'd instead been dragged out of his dorm by his patron and simply told to go to a meeting and follow a group of other squires and their patron. That was it. He couldn't disobey of course, because the Akalak had taken the last outbreak of misbehavior to explain just how much power the patron had over the squirrels future in the Order. The longer he didn't listen to the crimson man, the longer he'd have to spend not listening to the man before he finally became a knight in writing as well as in mind. All of this was just another way for the patron to try and assert his dominance, since he sure as Hai couldn't put it up on the battlefield any more. For a worshiper of Discipline, the man could act like such a child at the best of times.

The things that the squirrel would do, when he finally became a knight.. he gathered those thoughts up in his mouth, with his clay cheeks slowly exuding a greyish-brown liquid, that he spat the dirty thoughts out and into the grass. Clear the head. Clear the nexus. Clear the soul. Follow peace.
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Echoes in the Dark Pt. 1

Postby Marrick Corvis on December 6th, 2014, 8:16 am

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They were doomed. Well, perhaps not. As with any time he saw something shiny or new Marrick listened and observed them as they spoke. A little smile struggled to take root and grow upon his lips as he listened quietly. The smallest Pycon, Nivel broke the silence and the Dark Haired squire turned his attentions to her minute feistiness. As with everything about her, she seemed full of creativity. Her dog Patcha watched him with an unnatural amount of interest. The little corgi showed an unusual amount of intelligence, even appearing to listen to the others as they spoke. In a brief moment of distraction the Kelvic tilted his head to one side and blinked as the dogs eyes found him again. ‘Oh yes, that one is a kelvic.’ In truth Marrick strongly suspected but was not certain.

As Nivel finished introducing herself she wiggled her ears, which delighted the Kelvic. As eccentric as Marrick was, he loved people with character. Nivel was most definitely full of that. He was about to respond with an ‘oy’ and a wave when the Eypherian spoke up.

There was a quiver in his voice, almost as if his very core were filled with ice. His words did much to confirm both the man’s state of mind, as well as his character. It was true indeed. It was cold, but surely the many armed man understood that he wasn’t bringing more warmth to the day. Quite the opposite in fact. The little smile that had grown for Nivel’s attempt at friendliness melted away and transformed to a look of concern, and ultimately compassion. The instructions he spoke of could only have come from a superior.

Marrick’s eyes narrowed as they often did when he was chewing on an idea. It didn’t sit right with him that a Patron would do this to one of their Squires. Teaching a squire a lesson was better served with hard work. Only growth can come from that. This on the other hand was… abuse, and Marrick had seen enough of that to last three lifetimes.

Oriah on the other hand seemed to resent their multi-limbed brother in arms. For the life of him he couldn’t figure out why. As much as Marrick loved her, he realized in that moment that there was so much they didn’t know about each other. When her eyes did find him though he had nothing but genuine smiles for her, though his eyes held a subtle sadness to them that she would need to look hard to see.

The Benshira, made a kind introduction, unlike their chilled companion. When she made note of Nivels ‘skin’ Marrick took the opportunity to take a second look, and indeed it was unusual. She really was different from Archailist in so many ways. The differences made Marrick question why archailist hadn’t made changes to his own shape to be more… squirrel like. Adding fur, or maybe bits of porcelain for teeth.

It was almost as if the uncanny little fellow could sense the comparison that Marrick had made in his head, for the little feisty bit of dirt spoke up. His words were cold. Colder than even the Eypherian’s. While their multi armed brother was merely cranky from the cold. Archailists words felt like… well a very different Pycon than Marrick had known. It was almost as if the little creature’s nexus had lost any and all compassion within it. The thought made the Dark haired squire filled with sadness.

Marrick took a deep breath and steeled himself for what he felt he must do. It was Ser Whitevine’s words… Sylir’s words that filled him. Words of peace. But before peace, those that threatened peace needed to be dealt with. One way… or another…

The Kelvic exhaled and gave Kiter a gentle squeeze at her ribs and urged her forward to ride alongside his little friend. Archailist’s face was hard to read as it was almost entirely made of one color of clay. On top of that it was shaped like a squirrel, and such an animal had little in the way of the ability to express happiness, or anger. A real squirrel would just chitter in a tree, or shake its tail in agitation. What little Marrick could see though was something akin to ungratefulness. Arrogance. Archailist was missing the opportunity that had been presented him. The word that had been getting around was that the little Pycon was nearing the completion of his training. Ser Whitevine had even mentioned it to him.

This was Archailist’s chance to lead. ‘Off to a great start wee man.’ He thought to himself. Marrick looked down at the little Pycon and sighed out a misty breath of regret. As he watched the little squirrel ride his dog, he found he could not look at him so great was his disappointment. Instead he focused his gaze on the beautiful white raiment of the Cobalt mountains. It calmed him. When he inhaled the cool and crisp air of the dreary morning he used it as best he thought he could. “Well little brother, yeh bring all sarts o’ warmth to a cold moment in our loives.” He said soft as silk, and just loud enough for him to hear. “Yeh could beat any number o’ us in a foight. But, even yer Akalak Patron knows that teh foight a large number o’ enemies’ yeh need folk at yer back. Folk that yeh trust. Folk yeh know that will foight with yeh and die glad knowin that they may have saved yer loife.” He took a deep breath and turned Kiter about with a firm pull of her reins and a kissing noise to coax her to change direction.

“Roight, then.” Marrick said much louder than before so that all could hear. “O’im Marrick Corvis, A pleasure teh meet yeh all. Oi’ve heard about a few of yeh. Yer exploits are known teh me n’ Oi’m proud teh roide with yeh t’day.” The Kelvic gave them all his brightest smile and even the slightest sassiness of a chuckle. As Kiter drew close to the Eypherian the Dark haired squire turned her so that they rode along side by side. He gave the unusual fellow a look that was compassionate, yet weighing. There was time enough for conversation, but the man that rode next to him was cold. Though he fixed Marrick with an amusing look of accused insanity, the Kelvic only smiled at him and undid the clasping pin of his cloak.

It was simple. He had layers, and the man was dressed for a warm evening in the rearing stallion; not for a long day of riding in the cold. Marrick stood in the stirrups of his saddle and hung the cloak about the multi limbed squire by his side. “A woise man, told me teh wear layers when it’s cold. Oi didn’ think it’d help somone else t’day. Now take it, and be warm. N’ at least give the folk that may foight besoide yah yer name. It’s a small courtesy.” The Kelvic smirked at the Eypherian for just a moment before he squeezed Kiter’s sides to encourage her forward a little faster back to his place in the group.

Now that he rode in a more appropriate place to speak to Nivel or Oriah he focused his attentions on the little creatively carved Pycon. “Tis a true pleasure teh meet yeh Nivel. Oi’m told yeh are soon teh be the smallest Mage Knioght in the orders history.” Marrick said with a chuckle. “Little do they know yer bigger on the insoide.” The Kelvic smiled and laughed at his little joke as they rode along at their leisurely pace. “N’ a pleasure teh meet yer wee pup, Patcha.” The Kelvic gave the little corgi a wink before turning his gaze back to the path ahead. “As fer rocks.” Marrick’s eyes looked onward toward the icy peaks of the mountains. “We’re headed fer one o’ the biggest rocks in all o’ the warld. Now, if’n yah fit that bit o’ stone inta the clay o’ yer matrix Oi think Oi’d be really impressed.” Like a man with a vision in his head, his eyes seemed to search beyond what was in front of him.

“Were not headed for the Cobalts today.” Came the unmistakable voice of Oriah’s Patron. “Niblet! Scout Ahead! Find a clear path.”

Sera Mora’s pet name for Marrick had become only mildly irritating from the first time she had spoken it to him in jest. The Kelvic wore a look of concern on his face, and he realized that their little introduction was over. It was time to get to work. “Aye Sera!” He shouted quickly in response.

Marrick chuckled darkly and drew one of his longbows from the lash of his saddle. With a fluid movement he bowed the stave over his shoulders and strung it at each end. “Well, moy friends. Troy the stay warm.” He shot Archailist a glance that could only mean that, that statement was meant more for him than anyone else. Marrick hoped that the lively bit of clay would get his metaphor. The cold was already beginning to creep down his back, and Marrick tightened his scarf against it. With a swift draw he drew and notched an arrow. He gave Oriah a sad smile and coaxed Kiter into a gallop. “Alroigh lass, Lets go Koiter.”

The large Tiaden War Mare took her cue and the massive weight of the horse lifted off the ground as she pushed forward. Her mighty hooves beat out a thunderous chorus as she lurched her mass of muscle forward. Marrick tightened his grip on the reins before he rode the massive beast hard into the tall trees of the Bronze wood.

ooc infoOnce Marrick finds a safe route, he will be firing a whistling arrow or two so you can find his location. We can speed this along if you guys like.
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Echoes in the Dark Pt. 1

Postby Nivel on December 10th, 2014, 5:52 pm



The very first response Nivel received was surprisingly dour, It seemed having many limbs didn't bring one happiness as the pycon assumed. While the Mage Squire was perfectly content wearing nothing at all, even she was starting to feel the sting of the cold winter air. She knew that the tall folk required layers of warm fabrics to keep the chill at bay so she couldn't help wondering why this man was left almost completely exposed. From what Nivel could gather from the words that escaped the poor mans shivering mouth, He was ordered to wear almost nothing at all by his patron knight. In Nivels opinion this seemed very dishonourable and unlike the knights that Nivel had idolized throughout her short life.

The pycon was sure Sera Grey would never do anything so cruel to her, the women was like a second mother to Nivel. Her patron knight had even given her two scarves after Nivel had turned them down. Nivel was glad the masked women went against her wishes for she now had a scarf for her and the deprived Squire. Nivel wrapped one of the ends of these scarves around her like a blanket. It was crafted from densely felted brown fleece so it was incredibly warm. Since the scarf had come from a talented embroiderer like Sera Grey, it was covered in enough colourful stitch samples to nearly cover the entire thin scarf. Nivel was almost about to offer the second scarf to the chilled squire but was interrupted by the other female squire speaking up.

Nivel wondered why she hadn't noticed it before, but there was something powerful about this girl. Most aura went unnoticed to Nivel unless she focused her mind on seeing them, This girls aura was different. Her name was Oriah and while she stated that she only knew how to dance and use the sling, with the reading Nivel was getting on her she had to be a powerful mage. Not just any Mage however, but the most powerful of mages Nivel had ever been in contact with. Many users of the arcane kept their activities secret so it wasn't too unlikely that this girl with the perpetual smile was doing just that. Nivel wasn't about to blow the girls cover but despite her natural poker face she couldn't help acting strange.
"Oh...uh nice to meet yoooou..uh..Oriah" Nivel sporadically replied. " Tooo...answer your que.stion..in Pyconia they use crushed gems for cosmetic purposes..they mix them with the uh clay they eat...I like Emeralds"
Nivel was clearly distracted by the waves of power emanating of Oriah and couldn't form her sentences as smoothly as usual. It was odd that this squire had such an impressive aura while her patron knight Sera Mora, a known witch who was currently leading them through the woods didn't give nearly as impressive a reading. Was it that this witch could suppress her aura, Nivel had heard that was something high level Aurists could do. Nivel would have to arrange a private meet with her to learn her secrets.

Nivel was glad to be brought back to the world of the present by the voice of Arch the Squirrel. Although the mage squire was alarmed when the other pycon made a horrible joke at the expense of the poor tall folk of many arms. However it also seemed the squirrel knew the one he was making a snide remark to, may have easily been their strange way of showing kinship. Nivel didn't want to jump to any conclusions without first seeing the Tall folks reaction. She still gave a look of concern that was so subtle only another pycon could possibly pick up on it. The Raven haired squire had given a few quiet words to the squirrel. Nivel hoped that the tall folk was informing the other pycon of how harsh his words had been but she couldn't be sure.

The Squire of raven hair gave his introduction not soon after, His name was Marrick and as soon as he spoke Nivel understood what Patcha had seen in him. He was the first to show any kind of compassion to the poor nameless multi-armed Squire, by bestowing his cape upon him. If Nivel had a heart, Marrick's gesture would have surely brought a great deal of warmth to it and she hoped it was also able to melt the coldness that had griped the poor tall folk of many arms. Marrick then moved between Nivel and Oriah and continued to display even more of his charming personality. Patcha was a little surprised at the wink the fellow kelvic had given her but otherwise acknowledged it with a gentle nod of the head. Marrick didn't seem to say and thing to Oriah but with how much they'd been staring at each other Nivel assumed they'd been communicating telepathically.

Marrick went on to tell the group that they were heading to the cobalt mountains but was quickly corrected by Sera Mora. She requested he scout ahead and he quickly complied, giving his goodbyes as he raced ahead.
"I like him" Nivel blurted out as he was almost out of sight.

Nivel directed Patcha to move closer to the chilled squire, when the two were riding perpendicular to one another Nivel carefully undid the second scarf from her mount.
"This scarf was lent to me by my patron but you can borrow it if you would like" Nivel extended her arms to a height that the many armed squire could hopefully reach. It wasn't much but she hoped the Tall folk would take it regardless.

With that out of the way her attention was brought back to Oriah, who seemed to suck the pycons attention in like a black hole. The pycon just had to see how immense this girls Aura was, and wasted no time in focusing her mind on the second sight. Almost right away she was blinded by the all encompassing light of this women's aura. Nivel let out a slight screech as she shielded her eyes from the intense rays coming off this magnificent arua.
"Are you some kind of goddess?!" Nivel asked Oriah with alarm. The pycon was trembling but forced herself to relax using deep breaths. With her auristics made in active she took her trembling hands away form her face.
"I'm sorry for that out burst but your aura is like nothing I have seen" She said in awe.






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Echoes in the Dark Pt. 1

Postby Aventis on December 16th, 2014, 12:50 pm

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Aventis sighed, less than proud of his actions. He had tried to be honest, chivalrous even. What he spoke was truth, unadulterated truth, all and nothing but. He had done his best… What had gone wrong? He could understand the squirrel’s response. Admittedly, he had not followed the peculiar little Pycon’s orders deliberately, but his orders were hideously inept. He had overshot Aventis’ abilities, nearly gotten him killed, and didn’t so much as acknowledge common decency. Beside the Archailist, Aventis felt less than confident in his own decency, and hypocrisy was hardly knightly. The poor little Pycon had been perfectly polite. She didn’t seem fazed, no, not in the least, but she yet did not deserve even a whisper of Aventis’ response. Of course, it was entirely possible that the rest of the group misunderstood his situation, but it didn’t much matter. He was the odd one out. And it was his own doing. The rest of the group seemed...Less than pleased with his presence, particularly the girl. Oriah, her name was. Probably. No matter. The rest of the group viewed Aventis with quiet contempt, but Oriah… Oriah viewed him with something more, something deeper. As if Aventis had committed some awful crime against her. It was subtle, yes, but Aventis would have to be a moron not to notice. It certainly hadn’t been the first time he’d gotten that look. Why he got it from the stranger didn’t matter. Who he got it from didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he got it, and that is unacceptable for any respectful member of the Order.

The group had begun moving, and Aventis, who would usually have butterflies the size of ravens in his stomach, simply did not. His teeth chattered, another sharp breath pushed forcefully from his frozen lips. Slowly, he became aware of a presence beside him. The raven haired man looked at the Eypharian with a face Aventis could only relate to pity. Of course, the squire shouldn’t be surprised, considering the way he acted, but it was still uncomfortable nonetheless. The man, he thought, introduced himself as Marrick. He seemed decent enough. Certainly a social individual. He said something about being cold… Aventis didn’t really know. It was hard to understand his somewhat peculiar accent, but he did understand that the man, kind as ever, offered Aventis his cloak. Aventis, not knowing what much else to do, gingerly took the cloak with his top left hand, muttering a “Thank you, Marrick,” and watched as the kind man rode off. Quickly wrapping the heavy cloth around his thin and shaking shoulders and hiding his lower arms beneath the folds of the cloak, Aventis continued to reflect on his outburst. What an outright moron I am… he thought. What a grade A jackass…

Soon after the departure of Marrick, Aventis was made aware of another offer. “This scarf was lent to me by my patron but you can borrow it if you like,” the little Pycon said. Aventis, nearly incredulous to the good nature of those around him, reached down with his upper left hand and took the scarf.

“You’re very kind, Nivel. I hope you know that.” Aventis told her quietly, hoping it would help reconcile his impression, maybe even serve as an apology. Of course, that was just hoping. After wrapping the delicate scarf around his chilled neck, he grabbed the reins of his horse and began moving with the rest of the group. He had decided it was best to remain silent, lest he ruin his image further. The rest of the group seemed perfectly content, however atrocious Aventis may have been, but the young squire couldn’t help but wonder his purpose here. They seemed too many in number for Aventis to be of use, and he wasn’t sure how adept the rest of the squires were, but he was by far the newest one and therefore the most novice. It didn’t make sense, but Aventis didn’t bother asking. He knew he wouldn’t get an answer.


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Echoes in the Dark Pt. 1

Postby Oriah on December 18th, 2014, 2:17 am

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Oriah lowered her gaze and chewed the inside of her cheek in consternation, the feeling quickly turning into shame. The others had shown no hesitance in offering the Eypharian a bit of a kindness. And here she was, holding onto artifacts of her past that she had so pointedly tried to leave behind after all these years.

It wasn't going to be easy. This, she knew well before having made up her mind. The Benshira was going to have to tear apart every presumption, every whispered rumor, baseless or not, of her childhood before reconstructing the truth.

The truth...she watched as first Marrick undid his cloak and offered it to their shivering brother in arms, then Nivel followed suit, handing over her own scarf. The Eypharian's reaction only added to Oriah's own guilt, for he appeared to be truly moved by their selfless gestures. Expression flushed with surprise and remorse, the young squire accepted these borrowed articles of clothing with a graciousness that undid some of his earlier terseness.

The truth was that he had been cold. Shivering as Winter no doubt bit into his bones, subjected by his own patron to endure something his brothers and sisters of the Order could only describe as cruel. Oriah imagined she wouldn't be in a chipper mood either if Sera Mora had given her the same decree. Hard to picture her patron doing so as it was. At the moment, she was so bundled to ward off the icy weather that the Benshira could scarce feel it. On her back she wore a wool, fur trimmed cloak, complete with a hood, under which was a fur lined cap, on her hands wool gloves also trimmed with fur, and beneath her regular Ramie trousers a pair of wool stockings. And, to top it all off, she wore a wool scarf wrapped several times around to keep her neck warm. The desert bred squire couldn't be more heavily armored against Winter if she grew her own set of fur.

The Eypharian, on the other hand, was so poorly prepared that it might have been comical, if he hadn't been suffering so much and one possessed no heart. Mind made, Oriah took off her fur lined, wool cap and moved closer to the other squire. She was a couple chimes late in the offering, but held out her contribution to the makeshift collection, doing her best to meet his gaze in spite of her own embarrassment.

"It is not much," she explained, "but your head must be cold, and we shall need it if we encounter danger."

Oriah offered a genuine smile as she continued, "We are brothers and sisters of the Order. Your pain is our pain and we fight as one. I hope you can accept this as token of friendship. The cold is enemy for us all."

No longer trying to hide her accent, the Benshira spoke freely and sincerely, holding the hat a bit closer to encourage him to take it.

An order came from the front. It was Sera Mora, requesting that Marrick, or Niblet as she preferred to call him now, scout ahead for a clear path. Oriah felt some of her heart and newly found cheer trot away with him, but there was nothing to be done about it. Their duties were their duties and no one was exempt.

"I like him," the Pycon Nivel blurted as Marrick rode off with Kiter. Surprised to hear this out loud, Oriah looked down and grinned.

"Who doesn't?" she murmured in response.

It wasn't long after this, however, that Nivel uttered a second outburst that caught Oriah completely off guard. A goddess? Aura? The Benshira's eyes grew wide as she regarded the Pycon with renewed awe. She knew Nivel was a magic user, but Oriah herself was horrendously unschooled in the ways of sorcery. Her people had always been superstitious and treated magic as something to be wary of. But now that she thought about it, it made sense that the Pycon would able to detect auras. And with Yahal's revered mark...

Oriah laughed lightly in bewilderment. "No, no, I am no such thing," she insisted to Nivel, shaking her head. "I bear the blessing of my god, Yahal. I would show you but I'm wearing too much. It must be what you call...aura."

As they moved, she caught more glimmers of Nivel's gemstone-enhanced form. How fascinating to think that in Pyconia what they consumed within clay would then appear in their flesh. It was no small wonder that Pycons like Nivel and Archailist tended to be so creative in appearance; there seemed to be literally infinite possibilities.

"Azari," Sera Mora called from up front once more, "I need you to be our halfway point. Let me know if Niblet finds anything."

With a nod and suppressed sigh, Oriah mounted Pie and followed her orders. She rode just a little ways ahead of the traveling group, doing her best to keep an eye on Marrick and Kiter's retreating form.

"Yahal guide us safely through this journey," she prayed quietly under her breath.


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Echoes in the Dark Pt. 1

Postby Archailist on December 18th, 2014, 4:13 pm

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He could hear the steady trot of Marrick's mount as it drew up to his side, and cast a cold shadow out over the squirrel and his little panting mount, but Arch didn't turn to look up at the man. Apparently he didn't even need to. Marrick always knew what to say in situations like these, it seemed - for a moment, there was a tinge of envy in the squirrel, but it melted as soon as it appeared while the words lingered in his nexus. Folk at your back. He'd often had trouble on that account. Nobody wanted to listen to a squirrel.. but that didn't mean that they didn't care about him. Insulting them wasn't going to make things any better for any of them. He only had himself to blame for trying to take out some of the anger over his patron onto the fellow squires. Folk that you trust. Did he trust them? Well, if not them, then by Sylir, he didn't know who else he could turn to. It seemed that every word that came out of the Kelvics mouth, hit the squirrel somewhere deep, until he was left sagging on his saddle.

Stupid. If there was ever a better definition, it would be I. There was no point wallowing in self-pity either. He could already see Marrick storming ahead, addressing nearly all of the other squires with wide smiles and casual tones that cut through awkwardness like a knife. Gods, how the Pycon wanted to know how he could do it so easily - or at least make it look that way. As if it wasn't already pretty obvious, the squirrel was feeling more than a little awkward around a larger group of fellow squires. After he left, he could even hear some remarks made in his absence, and though his agreement wasn't anything more than a whisper of hot air, he still made one and meant it. "Who doesn't indeed... It was nothing short of a wonder that the man hadn't already made it as a knight. He may not have the skill of one, but damn it all if he didn't have everything else.

Marrick certainly didn't bother with the same foolish mistakes that the squirrel made, too. Where Archailist had mocked, the other man comforted, and it seemed to get a better effect out of it too. Not just Aventis, but the rest of the group as well - offering up pieces of clothing to help in his time of need. As if he needed any more reason to feel stupid for what he'd done mere ticks ago. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't exactly turn back on what he'd said and join in with the rest. "I'd offer something myself, but I'm afraid I don't actually have any clothes with me.." he sighed as he turned around to look back to the multi-limbed squire with a little smile. "Best I could offer is a little fluffy dog sitting on your lap for the rest of the journey." No doubt that Xarex would be more than eager to take a little rest on Aventis, and the Eypharian could probably get a bit of warmth out of a little bundle of fur on his lap too.

He'd not noticed before, but Nivel and Oriah had begun talking about some 'aura' at some point.. the squirrel couldn't see anything different about Oriah, so he really couldn't vouch for whatever it was that they talked about. Even trying to listen and keep up was beyond him, so instead he turned back to Aventis again. "Oriah speaks the truth, you know. We are all brothers and sisters - members of the Order, who fight as one." He didn't want to bring up the Yukman incident, so he didn't. "Whatever may come, this time more than any of the others that we've met.. no matter what we've fought.. we must work as one." He kept his gaze on Aventis alone for the last sentence. "Learn from our mistakes - whether we made them or not."
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