7th Seas- An Interlude
Apr. 27th, 2009 08:31 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
realsorienI was inspired to write this when I was thinking about what to do with my experience points. I knew that for what I wanted to do I needed an explanation, and that I really didn't want to take up everyone's time in-game for me to get a benefit that was, really, just for my character alone. So, while I was at work tonight I started writing... And this is the cleaned-up result! I think its pretty good, but I REALLY want input, especially from the players in the game- Did I get your characters right, and if not, how did I go wrong? From anyone else I'd like input as well- I'm really trying to improve my writing. :)
Illyana relaxed. It was just over a week since she and her companions had returned from their brush with slavery, and while thoughts of revenge lay cold in her mind, it was good to be in a homelike place once more. The nights that had passed since had yielded some form of return upon the gangs that had attacked the manor, and now the local merchants had gone as far as to offer a small bounty for the head of each gang member taken. So far, a small sum had been collected, with no prisoners.
“A clear night tonight,” she thought, looking at the unusually-cloudless sky. Eisen, Freiburg in particular is not known for such crystalline skies. “The hunting will be not so easy. Moon and stars lend caution to human rats...” She sighed, thinking that perhaps this private little war would rapidly go too far. But then, in a city without laws, what is ‘too far’?
Getting up, she made a quiet round of the manor grounds. Erik, the Vestin prince was in what would soon be a mead hall for his kinsmen. With him is his shieldman, Djiel, the southern native that had attached himself to the prince. Erik nods at her entry. “No hunting tonight?” He asks in his native tongue; the prince as yet not having deigned to learn another. “Nyet,” she replies in in like language, her Ussuran accent heavy in her words. “With no clouds, moon and stars grant sight even to blind.” “There will be tomorrow night then. This... City is always buried by clouds.” Illyana doesn’t gainsay this, as its usually true.
“What do you think?” Erik asks, grandly gesturing about them. “It will be a fine hall for my kinsmen!” Illyana nods and smiles, inwardly thinking of how, soon, a restful night will be a thing of the past. “You have word of arrival?” “No, not yet.” He stretches. “But it will be soon. Drink!” He slides a tankard of mead to her, which she takes, still standing.
“I have an odd feeling tonight,” she says. “Your magic is of weather, da? Do you feel anything?” Erik frowns, running fingers across the scars of runecarving that mark his arms. “Tonight? No. But clear skies here is a strange enough thing.” “Mm.” The pair drink in silence for a space, Djiel watching. The powerfully-built black says nothing, and as his skill with any language other than his own is still growing, his thoughts are unspoken and unknown.
Illyana pauses. “Where is Zora?” “Gods know. Maybe taking her turn at hunting.” “Mm. It could be. She knows these cesspools pretending to be cities far better than I.” She finishes her tankard. “Have good night. I am yet restless; perhaps a walk will help find rest.” Erik refills his own tankard. “Watch yourself- we have gotten their attention now.” “I do not worry. Roaches and rats scurry from light.” She grins, walking out into bright moonlight.
The night is cold and still, unusually so for Eisen. Illyana at first wanders aimlessly, simply letting her feet carry her. Eventually she comes to herself with a start- she’s reached the border of the slums that ring Freiburg! “Boishe Moi...” She mutters, recalling how the dwellers within these rotting hovels reacted to any who might represent wealth, or food...
Taking a moment to gather her wits, she slips into a nearby shadow to decide what to do; behind her lies the (relative) safety of Freiburg proper, while ahead lies squalor and a potentially unsavory death.
However... Past the slums are forests, much like those of her homeland. Trees have been cut, likely the entire region of Freiburg proper was once heavily forested. She feels a pull upon her, drawing her towards those woods, so strange and familiar all at once, and decides that this night will find her in forests.
Illyana takes a deep breath. There will be no crossing the hell of poverty before her without notice. With her white hair and cloak she stands out to any prying eyes... As a human. However, she has another way, the same way she first entered Freiburg- as a wolf.
Quietly thanking Matushka for her gifts, Illyana focuses her will upon assuming the spiritual ‘skin’ of the iconic creature of her lineage- one of many forms the practitioners of Pyeryem may attain. Her kin having taught her well (despite her recent spate of bad luck), she shivers, dropping to all fours as skin gives way to fur, hands to paws and face to muzzle. Her clothing vanishing with Matushka’s gift, she feels the world with canine senses. She sniffs the air, giving a low growl at the foulness she detects. Then, silent as the night itself, she runs.
A few of the impoverished wretches catch sight of her, but most can hardly believe what they see: a huge grey-and-white wolf silently loping with great speed through the squalid landscape! Those who see it do not speak of it later, though a few recall seeing just such a great beast months before... Entering the city!
When Illyana finally slows to a walk, she is deep within the wood. The land is silent, save for the low whisper of wind. She looks about, the snow still bright in the moonlight despite the dimmed colors seen by lupine eyes. Her thoughts are far more wolf than woman at the moment, but she knows that she was drawn here by more than a wish for a walk in the woods.
She once again sniffs the air, catching the myriads of trails within the wood; deer at forage, a scattering of rabbits and mice, foxes seeking the latter.... But nothing close. Then, her ears prick up at a distant call- she realizes that she knows the way to go. She walks now, her tread silent as she listens for a repeat of the call. It sounds again, this time closer, somewhere ahead. She trots now, her wolfish thoughts knowing the sound as familiar to her, from her home near the Azov forest. But she cannot place the name, as too much of the wolf lies between.
Soon enough she passes into brightness- a clearing near the heart of the wood, with a single ancient ruin of an oak in the middle. The call sounds again, leaving no doubt that it comes from something in the tree. Illyana-wolf paces, at a loss as to what to do. There is something... But what? She needs...
Confused, she sneezes, shaking her head. She whines as more human thoughts fight for ascendence; she must be human now, not wolf. The internal struggle goes on for what seems forever to her, but then with a shudder she once again is borne upon two legs. “I have found a wonder, I think...” She mutters. Louder then she says, “Grandmother, have you called to me?” The only answer she gets is silence. At least until she is startled by a loud “HOOT!” from just above her!
She takes a deep breath and looks up. Upon a low branch perches a huge owl, purest white, looking down upon her with wise golden eyes. She steps back, the creature shifting on its perch with her movement. It shows little fear at her presence, momentarily preening its wing. Illyana watches, knowing that such an owl as this would not be found in Eisen. It stares back at her, first one great eye winking slowly, then the other. It ruffles its feathers, then seemingly nods to its solitary audience.
Feeling the chill knowledge that this meeting was arranged somehow Illyana knows what must come next. She draws once again upon her knowledge of Pyerym, and addresses it in the speech of animals.
“Know, O great owl, that I knew your kind in my home, and here also I bid you welcome. I am Illyana. How did you come here?” The creature waits for her to finish, clicks her beak thrice, and replies. “I flew far from my home woods to this place, sent by a great black wolf who knew my heart. It said to me that if I desired long life and many chicks, I should seek out this place, where a child of Man would greet me, and offer the Great Bargain.”
Illyana nods. “My father knew that wolf. It came to him once, bidding him to cease searching for my lost grandfather. He told my father, ‘he is with his wife, and in Matushka’s care.’ I do offer the bargain, for as you desire long life, I desire wings.”
The owl nods, winking first one eye, then the other. She spreads her wings, releasing the branch and landing gently before Illyana on the ground. As Illyana kneels before the great bird, it speaks again. “I share with you my spirit-skin, sister before Matushka. Yet, before I grant the fullness of the pact, I must be sure you are worthy of this skin. There is a man, a foul man, who cares nothing for our kingdom. A time is coming when he will be within your power. I will keep watch over how you act towards him. If you act as Matushka wills, I will know your sincerity and complete the pact in full. Until that time, borrow my spirit-skin to help you in your travels." Illyana feels a chill ripple through her, both cold and warm at once, and she knew that the bargain was met. “Fly home and be safe, sister. Seek out my father and brothers- they will honor the bargain we have made, and their barn shall be shelter for you if you desire.” With no other sign the wings spread and the owl soars skyward, vanishing rapidly from sight.
Now alone, Illyana sits upon the ground, looking to the sky where the owl so recently passed. Small wisps of cloud are seen, promising a return to the normal gloom of the Eisen sky. “For all the strangeness I have seen, I will never become used to it.” With this said the the silent wood, she settles against the oak, thinking.
Back at the manor, time has passed. It is now far past midnight, and Erik is faced with both Illyana and Zora still missing. “Armand!” He snaps. “Yes, Lord?” Erik almost jumps as his servant is somehow once again at his side. “Have you seen Zora or Illyana?” No, sir. Zora left in the afternoon with no word given, while Illyana left hours ago as you know.” Erik is angered at himself, seeing himself as protector of those who live beneath his roof. “I should have gone with Illyana. This place is acrawl with villainy!” Armand, learning his lord’s moods, says nothing. Djiel, for his part senses Erik’s agitation, and easily surmises that the White Devil’s anger is due to his women being missing. He takes his place a few steps behind Erik, and awaits the call to action.
As Erik gets ready to tear Freiburg apart to find his friends, Zora arrives home, a sway in her step and a grin on her face. “Where have you been?” Erik snaps. Zora, taken aback for a moment, steps back. Her eyes narrow, then she replies, “is that any of your business?” Erik, relieved a bit but unwilling to show it, growls back, “It is when two of my house vanish in this foul city!” “Who else is gone?” “Illyana. She went for a walk, and that was many hours past. We are among trolls here- she could be hurt!” Zora nods, knowing the truth in what he says, and secretly pleased that he was concerned for her as well.
“For my part... I was gambling. I’m late as I had the luck tonight!” She jingles a somewhat-full pouch of coin. Erik just grunts. “If you like, we can search. We have a clear night- that will aid us.” Erik nods shortly, then fetches the pick he has been using in place of his lost great axe. “She could be anywhere,” says Zora. “Where should we begin?” “We start here and work out. on foot, she is likely still within the city. She would not pass into the slums without, and the guards on the bridges will have seen her pass if she crossed.” He grimaces, knowing that they will charge for the ‘privilege’ of their telling him what they know.
Djiel goes back to the mead hall, knowing that Erik will want the entire estate searched as well. He looks about, seeing nothing. He is about to leave when he hears behind him a strange sound of fluttering, like something large and flying! He spins, spear at ready as a huge grey-and-white owl swoops in, landing before him! He readies himself for a throw, but then stares as the great bird shimmers, soon shaping itself into the form of Illyana, who freezes, faced with Djiel’s spear!
She holds her arms apart, and says “It is me, Djiel. This is part of my magic.” He tilts his head, but he knows Illyana and so lowers his weapon. She sighs in relief, then stands. “You are first to see me change. Congratulations.” She grins, and gestures Djiel to follow her as she goes to find Erik. Djiel follows, not without thinking, “White devil’s woman has powerful magics!”
The pair rapidly find Erik and Zora, who are preparing to search the city. With Illyana’s appearance, Erik first brightens, then glowers. “Where have YOU been?” He growls. Illyana smiles. “It was a magical night. My walk took me to strange places... And thank you for your concern. I am sorry for causing worry.” Erik glares a bit, then relaxes. “As long as you are all right. BUT. We must be careful in this place!” “Da. That is truth. I will try to be so.” Erik nods. “I am tired; the walk DID help, after all. Goodnight. We can talk more in morning.” She walks into the manor, leaving Erik to stare at her back.
“Djiel, what happened?” The warrior shrugs, then tries to explain... But what words can he use to explain? He hasn’t enough Vestin to say. His few words and gestures leave Erik confused, but he does get the idea that something very strange took place. Zora gets even less than Erik from the explanation-pantomime.
Illyana finds her room, stripping and curling up in the quilts of her bed. “I need to tell them...” She thinks. “But such is not easy. They believe only in their own magic... Though Djiel did see. Perhaps... That will help.” She puts out the lamp, and rests.
Illyana relaxed. It was just over a week since she and her companions had returned from their brush with slavery, and while thoughts of revenge lay cold in her mind, it was good to be in a homelike place once more. The nights that had passed since had yielded some form of return upon the gangs that had attacked the manor, and now the local merchants had gone as far as to offer a small bounty for the head of each gang member taken. So far, a small sum had been collected, with no prisoners.
“A clear night tonight,” she thought, looking at the unusually-cloudless sky. Eisen, Freiburg in particular is not known for such crystalline skies. “The hunting will be not so easy. Moon and stars lend caution to human rats...” She sighed, thinking that perhaps this private little war would rapidly go too far. But then, in a city without laws, what is ‘too far’?
Getting up, she made a quiet round of the manor grounds. Erik, the Vestin prince was in what would soon be a mead hall for his kinsmen. With him is his shieldman, Djiel, the southern native that had attached himself to the prince. Erik nods at her entry. “No hunting tonight?” He asks in his native tongue; the prince as yet not having deigned to learn another. “Nyet,” she replies in in like language, her Ussuran accent heavy in her words. “With no clouds, moon and stars grant sight even to blind.” “There will be tomorrow night then. This... City is always buried by clouds.” Illyana doesn’t gainsay this, as its usually true.
“What do you think?” Erik asks, grandly gesturing about them. “It will be a fine hall for my kinsmen!” Illyana nods and smiles, inwardly thinking of how, soon, a restful night will be a thing of the past. “You have word of arrival?” “No, not yet.” He stretches. “But it will be soon. Drink!” He slides a tankard of mead to her, which she takes, still standing.
“I have an odd feeling tonight,” she says. “Your magic is of weather, da? Do you feel anything?” Erik frowns, running fingers across the scars of runecarving that mark his arms. “Tonight? No. But clear skies here is a strange enough thing.” “Mm.” The pair drink in silence for a space, Djiel watching. The powerfully-built black says nothing, and as his skill with any language other than his own is still growing, his thoughts are unspoken and unknown.
Illyana pauses. “Where is Zora?” “Gods know. Maybe taking her turn at hunting.” “Mm. It could be. She knows these cesspools pretending to be cities far better than I.” She finishes her tankard. “Have good night. I am yet restless; perhaps a walk will help find rest.” Erik refills his own tankard. “Watch yourself- we have gotten their attention now.” “I do not worry. Roaches and rats scurry from light.” She grins, walking out into bright moonlight.
The night is cold and still, unusually so for Eisen. Illyana at first wanders aimlessly, simply letting her feet carry her. Eventually she comes to herself with a start- she’s reached the border of the slums that ring Freiburg! “Boishe Moi...” She mutters, recalling how the dwellers within these rotting hovels reacted to any who might represent wealth, or food...
Taking a moment to gather her wits, she slips into a nearby shadow to decide what to do; behind her lies the (relative) safety of Freiburg proper, while ahead lies squalor and a potentially unsavory death.
However... Past the slums are forests, much like those of her homeland. Trees have been cut, likely the entire region of Freiburg proper was once heavily forested. She feels a pull upon her, drawing her towards those woods, so strange and familiar all at once, and decides that this night will find her in forests.
Illyana takes a deep breath. There will be no crossing the hell of poverty before her without notice. With her white hair and cloak she stands out to any prying eyes... As a human. However, she has another way, the same way she first entered Freiburg- as a wolf.
Quietly thanking Matushka for her gifts, Illyana focuses her will upon assuming the spiritual ‘skin’ of the iconic creature of her lineage- one of many forms the practitioners of Pyeryem may attain. Her kin having taught her well (despite her recent spate of bad luck), she shivers, dropping to all fours as skin gives way to fur, hands to paws and face to muzzle. Her clothing vanishing with Matushka’s gift, she feels the world with canine senses. She sniffs the air, giving a low growl at the foulness she detects. Then, silent as the night itself, she runs.
A few of the impoverished wretches catch sight of her, but most can hardly believe what they see: a huge grey-and-white wolf silently loping with great speed through the squalid landscape! Those who see it do not speak of it later, though a few recall seeing just such a great beast months before... Entering the city!
When Illyana finally slows to a walk, she is deep within the wood. The land is silent, save for the low whisper of wind. She looks about, the snow still bright in the moonlight despite the dimmed colors seen by lupine eyes. Her thoughts are far more wolf than woman at the moment, but she knows that she was drawn here by more than a wish for a walk in the woods.
She once again sniffs the air, catching the myriads of trails within the wood; deer at forage, a scattering of rabbits and mice, foxes seeking the latter.... But nothing close. Then, her ears prick up at a distant call- she realizes that she knows the way to go. She walks now, her tread silent as she listens for a repeat of the call. It sounds again, this time closer, somewhere ahead. She trots now, her wolfish thoughts knowing the sound as familiar to her, from her home near the Azov forest. But she cannot place the name, as too much of the wolf lies between.
Soon enough she passes into brightness- a clearing near the heart of the wood, with a single ancient ruin of an oak in the middle. The call sounds again, leaving no doubt that it comes from something in the tree. Illyana-wolf paces, at a loss as to what to do. There is something... But what? She needs...
Confused, she sneezes, shaking her head. She whines as more human thoughts fight for ascendence; she must be human now, not wolf. The internal struggle goes on for what seems forever to her, but then with a shudder she once again is borne upon two legs. “I have found a wonder, I think...” She mutters. Louder then she says, “Grandmother, have you called to me?” The only answer she gets is silence. At least until she is startled by a loud “HOOT!” from just above her!
She takes a deep breath and looks up. Upon a low branch perches a huge owl, purest white, looking down upon her with wise golden eyes. She steps back, the creature shifting on its perch with her movement. It shows little fear at her presence, momentarily preening its wing. Illyana watches, knowing that such an owl as this would not be found in Eisen. It stares back at her, first one great eye winking slowly, then the other. It ruffles its feathers, then seemingly nods to its solitary audience.
Feeling the chill knowledge that this meeting was arranged somehow Illyana knows what must come next. She draws once again upon her knowledge of Pyerym, and addresses it in the speech of animals.
“Know, O great owl, that I knew your kind in my home, and here also I bid you welcome. I am Illyana. How did you come here?” The creature waits for her to finish, clicks her beak thrice, and replies. “I flew far from my home woods to this place, sent by a great black wolf who knew my heart. It said to me that if I desired long life and many chicks, I should seek out this place, where a child of Man would greet me, and offer the Great Bargain.”
Illyana nods. “My father knew that wolf. It came to him once, bidding him to cease searching for my lost grandfather. He told my father, ‘he is with his wife, and in Matushka’s care.’ I do offer the bargain, for as you desire long life, I desire wings.”
The owl nods, winking first one eye, then the other. She spreads her wings, releasing the branch and landing gently before Illyana on the ground. As Illyana kneels before the great bird, it speaks again. “I share with you my spirit-skin, sister before Matushka. Yet, before I grant the fullness of the pact, I must be sure you are worthy of this skin. There is a man, a foul man, who cares nothing for our kingdom. A time is coming when he will be within your power. I will keep watch over how you act towards him. If you act as Matushka wills, I will know your sincerity and complete the pact in full. Until that time, borrow my spirit-skin to help you in your travels." Illyana feels a chill ripple through her, both cold and warm at once, and she knew that the bargain was met. “Fly home and be safe, sister. Seek out my father and brothers- they will honor the bargain we have made, and their barn shall be shelter for you if you desire.” With no other sign the wings spread and the owl soars skyward, vanishing rapidly from sight.
Now alone, Illyana sits upon the ground, looking to the sky where the owl so recently passed. Small wisps of cloud are seen, promising a return to the normal gloom of the Eisen sky. “For all the strangeness I have seen, I will never become used to it.” With this said the the silent wood, she settles against the oak, thinking.
Back at the manor, time has passed. It is now far past midnight, and Erik is faced with both Illyana and Zora still missing. “Armand!” He snaps. “Yes, Lord?” Erik almost jumps as his servant is somehow once again at his side. “Have you seen Zora or Illyana?” No, sir. Zora left in the afternoon with no word given, while Illyana left hours ago as you know.” Erik is angered at himself, seeing himself as protector of those who live beneath his roof. “I should have gone with Illyana. This place is acrawl with villainy!” Armand, learning his lord’s moods, says nothing. Djiel, for his part senses Erik’s agitation, and easily surmises that the White Devil’s anger is due to his women being missing. He takes his place a few steps behind Erik, and awaits the call to action.
As Erik gets ready to tear Freiburg apart to find his friends, Zora arrives home, a sway in her step and a grin on her face. “Where have you been?” Erik snaps. Zora, taken aback for a moment, steps back. Her eyes narrow, then she replies, “is that any of your business?” Erik, relieved a bit but unwilling to show it, growls back, “It is when two of my house vanish in this foul city!” “Who else is gone?” “Illyana. She went for a walk, and that was many hours past. We are among trolls here- she could be hurt!” Zora nods, knowing the truth in what he says, and secretly pleased that he was concerned for her as well.
“For my part... I was gambling. I’m late as I had the luck tonight!” She jingles a somewhat-full pouch of coin. Erik just grunts. “If you like, we can search. We have a clear night- that will aid us.” Erik nods shortly, then fetches the pick he has been using in place of his lost great axe. “She could be anywhere,” says Zora. “Where should we begin?” “We start here and work out. on foot, she is likely still within the city. She would not pass into the slums without, and the guards on the bridges will have seen her pass if she crossed.” He grimaces, knowing that they will charge for the ‘privilege’ of their telling him what they know.
Djiel goes back to the mead hall, knowing that Erik will want the entire estate searched as well. He looks about, seeing nothing. He is about to leave when he hears behind him a strange sound of fluttering, like something large and flying! He spins, spear at ready as a huge grey-and-white owl swoops in, landing before him! He readies himself for a throw, but then stares as the great bird shimmers, soon shaping itself into the form of Illyana, who freezes, faced with Djiel’s spear!
She holds her arms apart, and says “It is me, Djiel. This is part of my magic.” He tilts his head, but he knows Illyana and so lowers his weapon. She sighs in relief, then stands. “You are first to see me change. Congratulations.” She grins, and gestures Djiel to follow her as she goes to find Erik. Djiel follows, not without thinking, “White devil’s woman has powerful magics!”
The pair rapidly find Erik and Zora, who are preparing to search the city. With Illyana’s appearance, Erik first brightens, then glowers. “Where have YOU been?” He growls. Illyana smiles. “It was a magical night. My walk took me to strange places... And thank you for your concern. I am sorry for causing worry.” Erik glares a bit, then relaxes. “As long as you are all right. BUT. We must be careful in this place!” “Da. That is truth. I will try to be so.” Erik nods. “I am tired; the walk DID help, after all. Goodnight. We can talk more in morning.” She walks into the manor, leaving Erik to stare at her back.
“Djiel, what happened?” The warrior shrugs, then tries to explain... But what words can he use to explain? He hasn’t enough Vestin to say. His few words and gestures leave Erik confused, but he does get the idea that something very strange took place. Zora gets even less than Erik from the explanation-pantomime.
Illyana finds her room, stripping and curling up in the quilts of her bed. “I need to tell them...” She thinks. “But such is not easy. They believe only in their own magic... Though Djiel did see. Perhaps... That will help.” She puts out the lamp, and rests.
