PM to join Marked

Dev'ania and Madeira investigate the strange symbol that appeared on many doors in Lhavit

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

The Diamond of Kalea is located on Kalea's extreme west coast and called as such because its completely made of a crystalline substance called Skyglass. Home of the Alvina of the Stars, cultural mecca of knowledge seekers, and rife with Ethaefal, this remote city shimmers with its own unique light.

Moderator: Luminescence

Marked

Postby Madeira Craven on April 24th, 2019, 7:59 pm

Image

Dev'ania breathed out in a meditative sigh and pressed her hand to the door. And Madeira, grimly curious, having never seen a fortune-telling gnosis before, hovered over the Konti to watch. But such divine gifts are not so flashy, and from the Spiritist's point of view nothing much happened at all, much to her disappointment. Yet it seemed the Konti got much more out of the experience.

"Wow. That seemed so... magical." Dev came back to herself, blinking her bright blue eyes. Immediately she turned and dragged her notebook out of her bag and began to sketch what she saw in her vision: someone in a familiar dark hooded cloak.

"That's what my house saw too!" Madeira exclaimed at Dev's explanation of what she saw. "I mean, there are plenty of dark cloaks in this city, and not seeing their faces means we can't be sure, but do you think its possible this was all the same person?" She still clung stubbornly to her Inverted theory, but she had to consider the idea that this was something else.

But then Dev did something she didn't expect. Glancing once between Madeira and the mark, and leaned close and sniffed it.

"Don't touch that! You have no idea where it came from." Madeira, being intimately familiar with several blood-activated magics and possessing an unhealthy knowledge of the dangers of decaying body fluids, quickly hooked a finger in the woman's collar and dragged her back. But not before the Konti delivered a shocking revelation.

"... I don't think this is blood after all."

"What?" Dev stepped back from the door to allow Madeira access, and the Spiritist leaned close and gave her own tentative sniff. She was not the expert that Gemma would have been, but she agreed with Dev; that wasn't blood. Removing the rings and gloves from her left hand, she carefully swiped her finger down the viscous red liquid. Was that... paint?!

"We've been tricked", she shook her head, dumbfounded, yet turning away to hide a small secret smile from Dev as she wiped her soiled hand on a tall fern. "But why? Why go to the trouble to make it look like blood? Why are they trying to scare us? Lets ask your crone."

Steeling herself, Madeira knocked politely on the mark and let herself into the Lonely Shack.

The front room was just as sparse and rundown as the outside, with bare creaky boards and hard furniture. On a low table a half-burned stick of incense was covering the room in a fog of perfumed smoke. Somewhere above their heads a bell chimed.

Not seeing their mysterious crone, Madeira pressed forward through an archway opposite them covered in sheer gauzy fabrics. This opened to a room that struck her immediately as a fortuneteller's lair. Circular, small, and stuffy with incense, the crone had made it even more claustrophobic by lining the walls with shelves groaning under the weight of mysterious boxes and bags. On a table covered in a fringed tablecloth in the center of the room was all the trappings of her craft: a cup of tea, a pile of knucklebones, a deck of cards and a mortar and pestle.

"Dev'ania. It iss good to ssee you again."

The hardened Spiritist gave an undignified squeak of fright as a tiny, ageless woman drifted out from behind a curtain to an unseen doorway. Bald beneath a colourful headscarf, a thin pipe held between dark desert coloured fingers and dripping in a gypsy's copper jewelry, she greeted Dev even as she regarded Madeira with dark fathomless eyes. Every hair on the Spiritist's body shivered to attention.

"Pardon the intrusion. I'm Madeira Craven, Ma'am. Dev'ania's friend." Madeira recovered from her fright as quickly as she could and bowed primly at the waist. There was a kind of low, primal nervousness still licking at her bones to be in this woman's presence. It took her a moment before she could place why.

The Crone is a viper Dhani, she recognized belatedly. Small, dark, hairless, and everything from her sibilant speech to the snake-like movements in her hands as she adjusted her pipe pointed towards the predatory desert race. She knew her type. She even loved one, once. But that didn't make her fear her any less.

So, Dev'ania, the sweet Konti barmaid, was actually a divinely marked fortuneteller, and chums with a mysterious woods hag in a magical, rundown shack who just happened to be a venomous snake monster?! She didn't even know if she should be impressed or confused by this Konti who was much, much more than she first appeared.
User avatar
Madeira Craven
long may she reign
 
Posts: 1311
Words: 1103279
Joined roleplay: October 11th, 2016, 7:45 pm
Race: Human
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Journal
Plotnotes
Medals: 8
Featured Contributor (1) Featured Thread (1)
Mizahar Grader (1) Overlored (1)
Donor (1) One Thousand Posts! (1)
One Million Words! (1) 2018 Mizahar NaNo Winner (1)

Marked

Postby Dev'Ania on May 10th, 2019, 3:43 am


Dev'Ania stood back, observing Madeira as she took her turn at sniffing the substance on the door. "We've been tricked," Madeira said.

"Indeed we have been. Everyone has been fooled." Dev'Ania replied the other woman, moving next to her side. "Well, we still need to know why. This seems to be much more than a harmless trick."

It was time to ask the crone some questions. She would have the answers they needed. Madeira opened the old wooden door and walked in. Dev'Ania followed behind her, the old wooden floor creaking with every footstep. The pair walked through the fabric covered opening into the very familiar fortune-telling room. Cala appeared, smoking her pipe. The smoke from the pipe merged with the smoke from the burning incenses, making the room seem more stuffed as it was.

The room looked the same as it had the last time Dev was there. "Dev'ania. It iss good to ssee you again."

Madeira shrieked at the sight of the crone. Dev'Ania looked at the woman to reassure her before directing her attention back to Cala.

"Oh thank Avalis you are okay! I saw the mark on your door and was worried about you." Dev'Ania spoke in an excited tone, relieved to see her former mentor safe. She quickly sat down in the chair across from Cala. Madeira introduced herself. Dev could see that she was quite alert and a little nervous.

"How rude of me not to introduce my friend, Madeira." Dev stood up from the chair and offered for Madeira to sit. Whether the blonde woman accepted her offer or not, Dev stood next to the chair. "I have no doubt that you presumably already know why we have come. We want to know who is behind the marking of all of these doors. Is there any more information you can give us?"

Dev'Ania took out her notebook and quill again, ready to take down any information.

OOC :
Sorry again for the long wait. Let me know if you want me to edit anything. :)
Last edited by Dev'Ania on May 28th, 2019, 7:17 am, edited 1 time in total.
User avatar
Dev'Ania
Player
 
Posts: 107
Words: 71484
Joined roleplay: November 21st, 2018, 11:41 pm
Location: Lhavit
Race: Konti
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Scrapbook
Plotnotes

Marked

Postby Neologism on May 15th, 2019, 1:57 am

Image
”I know who you are.” The Crone steadied a gaze on Madeira that seemed to see just a bit too much about the woman. From most people, it might have been a threat, or an unwelcome acknowledgement. But from the Crone, it was simply a statement of fact. No one entered her shack without her permission, and so it could only be expected that she knew who was approaching. She took a long drag from her pipe, filling the room with heavy sweet smoke as she exhaled slowly, hobbling over to Dev’Ania and gently placing a hand on her shoulder while she spoke, a rare show of familiarity. ”And I know why you are here.” She said. There was a surety to her voice which did not breach arrogance, but filled her aura with the reality of her knowledge. The Crone was a relatively powerful being, but one who chose not to meddle in many affairs.

”Trickery, thievery, falsse accussationsss… alwaysss ssscared of the wrong thingsss, we are. I do not wisshh to involve mysself in this trivial argument of thosse people.” The Chrone started, pausing once again to inhale her tobacco, crossing one arm over her stomach to support her other elbow. She watched Dev’Ania for a few ticks, as if deciding something. ”In regardsss to what you assk: What you do not know doessn’t matter with thisss one. They are a fleeting kind, only important for now, gone tomorrow.” The Crone waved the knowledge in the air, releasing the smoke from her lungs with her words. Well aged and clearly used to the inhalation of tobacco, her scratchy voice was seemingly affected by years of this pipe, making her gender slightly less sure. ”But if you mussst know, you will find little information on the doorsss of the cccity. If you want to ssspeak to the masster of thisss trick, you musst read their wordsss yourself. They already told you their intentionsss.” She paused, crooking an eyebrow at the girls, but not bringing her pipe to her mouth.

”Of coursse what you learn, dependsss on what you allow to ssspeak to you.” She muttered, black eyes unfocusing from the face in front of her for only a tick before refocusing themselves on Dev’Ania. ”You’ve progressssed with your sssight. You’re better at ssseeing what the Chavena wisshesss you to, you musst ssseek thesse ansswersss yoursself.”

”If you truly want to walk into that heathen’sss handsss, you are welcome to it. However, I would advisse you not to invesstigate further.”
She warned with a nonchalant and frail shrug, but there was a small glint in her eye as she spoke. As if she was in on some joke that the two women could not fathom. Or that she may have taken part in whatever had happened to the city…. or just that it amused her to watch those without her sight look for what she could already see. The true intention of the Crone was more ambiguous than she was, but there was a distinct neutrality in her words. She only paused now to gauge the women’s reactions, and to answer any more questions they may have. Or at least answer them in the strange contradicting way that she spoke, revealing details only to those who listened carefully enough. While the Crone was old, her mind was sharp, and her habit of rambling distracted many from her truly insightful words. Dev'Ania would be used to the Crone's ambiguous nature and withholding of the future, as it was a respect paid to Avalis. The Crone followed the philosophy that if everyone was to see with the eyes of a Diviner, then the Goddess would have given everyone the sight.
Image
Ivory Heart Zintila The Constellations The Shinya
Council of Radiance (WIP) Star Gazing Gazette
User avatar
Neologism
AS of Lhavit, DS of Zeltiva
 
Posts: 690
Words: 621746
Joined roleplay: May 20th, 2014, 1:40 pm
Location: Lhavit, Zeltiva
Race: Staff account
Office
Plotnotes
Medals: 1
Featured Contributor (1)

Marked

Postby Madeira Craven on May 16th, 2019, 7:48 pm

Image

The bridge between Madeira's eyebrows grew narrower and narrower the longer the Crone spoke. Perhaps it was thick, heady smell of incense and pipesmoke that was making her head swim and the Crone's words dance like visions in front of her eyes. Maybe the weight of the words, heavy with meaning her narrow mind couldn't decipher, was what was causing this seed of pulsing pain in her temple. Or perhaps this backwoods witch was really just completely petching incomprehensible.

And this little Dhani looked so smug, chuckling at her own little joke with the universe, purposefully obfuscating what she clearly knew but wouldn't divulge. She was toying with them, watching her student and this woman she had just met run around in circles while she held tight to the answers they were looking for. Madeira bristled like a cat, eyes flashing cold and blue in the candlelight.

"You! I would allow you to speak to me! What words do we have to read? Why does what we know not matter? Who is this heathen? You are this close to being useful but you can't quite make that leap, can you?" The Spiritist fidgeted in place, the room too cramped for pacing, and her not quite able to give up the space she had staked as far as she could physically get from the Dhani.

"So... We're always scared of the wrong thing. Then what's the right thing to be scared of? Magic? Overgiving?... Important for now, gone tomorrow. Is this person not from Lhavit? Read their words yourself... Do you mean what the Towers posted in the Gazette last season? What other words are there? Is this just some 'between the lines' bullshyke? And heathen means they follow a god, but not your fortuneteller god... So this is religiously motivated. But then-" Madeira made a wordless noise of frustration, her bracelets clacking noisily as she clapped her gloved hands over her head as if to prevent it from rolling off her shoulders.

Perhaps Dev'ania, the fellow fortune teller, could puzzle this out, but Madeira was officially in over her head. She needed clarification but she knew asking a direct question would be pointless. If she asked where to find the words, or what this persons intentions were, this Dhani would just give them the runaround and pollute things further. So, what question could she ask that would give them the maximum amount of clarification for the least amount of bullshyke? What could satisfy the Crones fetish for being ambiguous while still giving her and Dev a thread to clutch in this impenetrable mess?

"Okay, fine. What should we be scared of? What is this heathen warning us against?" It was a weird comment for this Crone to slip into the conversation, this reflection on what 'those people' fear and their trivial arguments. Perhaps that insight could prove useful in knowing where to go next. "Dev, ask what you need to ask, then lets go. I don't want to stick around any longer than we must." She sniffed in distain and immediately began to cough as the tobacco and incense shot up her nose. "I have a pigeon at home that'll be much easier to get a straight answer out of."
User avatar
Madeira Craven
long may she reign
 
Posts: 1311
Words: 1103279
Joined roleplay: October 11th, 2016, 7:45 pm
Race: Human
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Journal
Plotnotes
Medals: 8
Featured Contributor (1) Featured Thread (1)
Mizahar Grader (1) Overlored (1)
Donor (1) One Thousand Posts! (1)
One Million Words! (1) 2018 Mizahar NaNo Winner (1)

Marked

Postby Dev'Ania on May 28th, 2019, 7:16 am


“...I do not wisshh to involve mysself in this trivial argument of thosse people.” Trivial? How could this Dhani think that this situation was unimportant. People were being threatened! Someone had to be brave enough to truly investigate what was happening, which was exactly what the women were doing. Yet, Cala had known all the information the women needed to solve this mystery, but would not disclose any of the facts with them. Wouldn’t Cala be upset, too, since her own door was marked? Wouldn’t she want something to be done?

A look of pure shock appeared on the Konti’s face as she observed Madeira become frustrated with Cala. Of course, Dev’Ania was frustrated and partly annoyed with Cala, too. But she respected her former mentor too much to shout at her.

“It’s okay Madeira, we can figure this out.” Dev’Ania tried to calm the woman down. Cala deflected all of the questions Madeira asked. She couldn’t even give a simple reason why they were doing this. Dev wished Cala would just tell them what she saw and help them. She had to see something.

Dev’Ania fidgeted where she stood before sitting back in the empty seat. She tapped the end of her quill on the notebook page, unintentionally making dots as she thought through what the Crone and Madeira were saying.

Dev whispered to herself as the other women spoke. She listed all the information obtained to get a better understanding of it all. “Okay. So, the marks on the door won’t be of any help in getting any more important information, we would have to get it all directly from the words of who was behind this, and we have already been told their intentions - maybe in what the Towers have posted in the Gazette.” The Konti, quite frankly, could not piece together any of the information.

Dev’Ania was shocked to know Cala had known she used her sight. She knew Dev had used her gnosis to divine information. This made Dev’Ania happy knowing that her mentor acknowledged her progression in her divine gift.

The Crone warned the pair about investigating further. Dev refused to give up. They had come so far in their findings, and she could not just forget about it all. “I’m sorry, but we must get to the bottom of this. If you won’t help us with your sight, then I will have to do it myself.” Dev’Ania knew Cala was only withholding information out of respect for their Goddess, but she thought that this would be an exception.

Dev packed her things and rose from her seat, giving the Crone a look of disappointment. “I don’t believe I have any further questions. Hopefully your...bird...will help us, Madeira.” She had no idea how a pigeon was to give them information, but in Lhavit, anything was possible. At this point, she was open to trying anything. Including using her sight again.

Dev’Ania began walking out of the shack, the heavy smell of smoke and incense fading as it diluted in the fresh air.
User avatar
Dev'Ania
Player
 
Posts: 107
Words: 71484
Joined roleplay: November 21st, 2018, 11:41 pm
Location: Lhavit
Race: Konti
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Scrapbook
Plotnotes

Marked

Postby Madeira Craven on June 3rd, 2019, 7:55 pm

Image

Madeira snorted with dismissive exasperation and followed Dev'ania from the smoky room. Though the dramatic effect of storming out was lost somewhat when the Spiritist took the long way around the table to avoid passing in front of the tiny Dhani. Once outside she took a great breath of clean spring air, feeling it fill every corner of her being and chase out the numbing effect of the layers of incense and pipe smoke.

"What a- What a useless old mage", Madeira huffed, following Dev back into the glad. "Valuing being spooky over helping us. Keeping their precious knowledge to themselves so they can make us chase our tails for their amusement. Damn it all. No. You know what? I'm going right back in there to shake her until the truth comes spilling out."

Full of righteous fury, Madeira spun on her heels, ready to storm back inside and threaten that old hag with being haunted for the rest of her days, but was brought up short.

Where was the shack?

The shallow between two heavy trees, where the fortune teller's hut had been moments before, was empty. The prism flies and the smoke trickling from the chimney, all of it had vanished like it had never existed. Madeira spun on the spot, squinting into the trees like she expected to see it sprinting through the woods.

"Coward", she muttered.

Shaking her glove off her hand again, she pulled a jeweled comb from her hair and pricked her finger. With the spot of blood she began to draw a spiked symbol into her hand.

"I'm sure my bird will help us, Dev. It has to. Unless the Crone's spookiness starts making sense soon we'll be fast out of ideas." Closing her hand into a fist, she called for Emma.

The little ghost child shimmered into existence, a nightdress floating about her bare scabbed feet. At the sight of the pretty Konti stranger the girl smiled nervously at the ground, her little hands picking at the weeping sores between her fingers.

"Hi Maddy..."

"Em, kitten, this is Dev'ania. Dev, this is Emma."

The ghost bobbed in a quick curtsy, but still wouldn't look the Konti in the eye. "How do you do?"

"Can you take us home, please, Em? We need to have a visit with Bird."

The ghost nodded and led the way out of the park, her form flickering in the spots of bright morning light that filtered through the trees. Her main job was to simply ferry her master from place to place, since the Avalad had an affliction of the mind that made her incapable of finding her way unaided. The little ghost was quite content with the roll. Madeira looped her arm through Dev's and followed.

From the park it was only a few blocks to the Infinity Manor. The tall wrought iron gate opened unaided before the two women and the ghost, and Madeira strolled confidently through, pulling Dev along. It looked to be a handsome house from a distance; a very Lhavitian-esque confection of opulent architecture three stories tall. But as they crossed the grounds the ruin came to light, from the many boarded windows to the melted paint, to the great swaths of sour, dead soil. Ringing it all was a wide, fierce moat studded with stone spikes and traversed by a hastily constructed bridge, and at the top of the porch stairs, smeared across the wide double doors, was the same strange symbol from the Crone's cottage.

The sentience of the house moved in slow currents well out of Madeira's reach. The house had not properly spoken since the battle that had ruined it. But she felt compelled to try anyway.

"We're home!" she announced. Something warm and gentle brushed her mind in acknowledgement and retreated. "The house is alive", she leaned into Dev to explain quickly. "It's not feeling very well, but if you're polite and avoid stepping on its flowers you two will get on just fine." As they stepped onto the porch steps Madeira passed a hand over the banister. From her soul she pulled her dijed forward, twisting it into her palm and feeding it through the contact. With her mind she begged the house to drink deep and recover, though she knew it wasn't its strength that needed tending.

The doors opened ahead of them, slicing the painted symbol down the middle. The inside of the house was no less ruined than the outside, but it looked like some effort had been made to fix it. It was dusted and swept, the furniture sparse and hard but intact, with a fire sparking merrily away in the fireplace and the oven to dispel Springs wet chill. And in the corner, cooing happily in his golden cage, was a pretty blue pigeon.

"Bird!" Madeira dropped Dev's hand and approached the cage, poking her fingers through to stroke his feathered head. Emma pranced off to talk to the stuffed tiger head that snarled at them from above the hearth, and from the kitchen on the other side of the hexagonal room a large black possession-addled cat wove his way to Dev to tangle up in her legs.

"I got this pigeon from the Inverted, years ago. He was just an egg then", Madeira explained, her exuberance curling at the edges as it burned away into sadness. "If I'm right, and the Inverted are at play here, he'll lead us right to who's responsible. But if I'm wrong..." If she was wrong, and the Inverted were still in Alvadas, or touring across the Suvan sea, she would never see him again. She had been carrying this little piece of home from city to city, he had been with her for years, this mysterious bird that was not a bird, touched by a god she missed more than anything. The reality that she might lose him forever sat heavy in her throat.

"...Never mind", she shook off the sadness, turning her mind back to the task at hand. "Be prepared to run. I have no idea where he'll lead us. Ready?" She waited for an assent from the fortune teller, before saying a quick prayer beneath her breath and throwing the cage doors open for the first time.
User avatar
Madeira Craven
long may she reign
 
Posts: 1311
Words: 1103279
Joined roleplay: October 11th, 2016, 7:45 pm
Race: Human
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Journal
Plotnotes
Medals: 8
Featured Contributor (1) Featured Thread (1)
Mizahar Grader (1) Overlored (1)
Donor (1) One Thousand Posts! (1)
One Million Words! (1) 2018 Mizahar NaNo Winner (1)

Previous

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 0 guests