realsorien (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
realsorien) wrote2009-10-11 08:45 am
realsorien) wrote2009-10-11 08:45 am
Story take 2, 'Woodlands Walking' Edited!
Okay. Here's the edited version of the story I wrote about my character Illyana. The original can be found here http://sorien.livejournal.com/172679.html and the new version is below- this version does NOT have the changes for in-game purposes that were suggested by the GM- his comments are still to be found in the notes of the original version. I've tried real hard to do dialogue in a more understandable fashion this time around. Let me know if I've succeeded! I'll note that the separations between the lines of dialogue are not what I wanted- in my original edited version those are indented instead of separated- I don't know how to do an indent on LJ yet.
Illyana relaxed. More than a week has passed since she and her companions returned from their brush with slavery. While thoughts of revenge lay cold in her mind, it was good to be in a homelike place once more. The nights since have yielded some retribution upon the gangs that had attacked the manor, and the local merchants have offered a small bounty for the head of each gang member taken. A small sum has been collected so far, with no prisoners.
“A clear night tonight,” she thinks, looking at the cloudless sky. Eisen, Freiburg in particular is not known for such crystalline nights. “The hunting will be not so easy. Moon and stars lend caution to human rats...” She sighs, thinking that perhaps this little war would rapidly go too far. But in a city without laws, what is ‘too far’?
Rising, she makes a quiet round of the manor grounds. She finds Erik, the Vestin prince in what will soon be a mead hall. With him is Djiel, the southern native that has attached himself to the prince. Erik nods at her entry.
“No hunting tonight?” He asks in his native tongue; as yet Erik hasn’t deigned to learn another.
“Nyet,” she replies. She continues in the Vestin 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.”
“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 a restful night will soon 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.
“I have an odd feeling tonight,” she says. “Your magic is of weather, da? Do you feel anything?” Erik frowns, running fingers across the rune-scars that mark his arms.
“Tonight? No. But clear skies here are a strange enough thing.”
“Mm.” The pair drink in silence for a space, Djiel watching. The powerfully-built black says nothing; his skill with any language other than his own is still growing thus his thoughts remain 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.” 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 the brilliant 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 the 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. Though many 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. Illyana knows that this night will find her in forests.
She 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. However, she has another way- the same way she first entered Freiburg; as a wolf.
Quietly thanking Matushka for her gifts, Illyana focusses 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 clothes vanish with Matushka’s gift, Illyana feels the world with canine senses. She sniffs the air, giving a low growl at the foulness she finds. 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 shantytown! Those who see it will not likely 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 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 now knows the way to go. Walking now, her tread silent as she listens for a repeat of the call. It sounds again closer, somewhere ahead. She goes to an easy lope, her wolfish thoughts knowing the sound as familiar to her, from her home near the Azov forest. But she cannot find 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 center. 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, but then with a shudder she once again is borne upon two legs. “I have found a wonder, I think...” She mutters. Louder 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!
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. Illyana steps back, the creature shifting on its perch with her movement. It shows little fear at her presence, momentarily preening a 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 somehow arranged, Illyana knows what must come next. She draws again upon her knowledge of Pyerym, and addresses the creature 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 its 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.”
“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 one eye, then the other. It spreads wings, releasing the branch and landing gently before Illyana on the ground. As Illyana kneels before the great bird, it speaks again.
“I give to you my sprit-skin, sister before Matushka, and take upon myself the greater years that you grant.” 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 there, 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 she settles against the oak, thinking.
Back at the manor, time has passed. It is 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 prepares to tear Freiburg apart to find his friends, Zora arrives home with a sway in her step and a grin on her face.
“Where have you been?” Erik snaps. Zora, taken aback for a moment, starts back. Her eyes narrow as 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 is 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.” Erik 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. He looks about, seeing nothing. He is about to leave when he hears 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 when 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. He follows, thinking, “White devil’s woman has powerful magics!”
Erik and Zora are quickly found. 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? 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. More than a week has passed since she and her companions returned from their brush with slavery. While thoughts of revenge lay cold in her mind, it was good to be in a homelike place once more. The nights since have yielded some retribution upon the gangs that had attacked the manor, and the local merchants have offered a small bounty for the head of each gang member taken. A small sum has been collected so far, with no prisoners.
“A clear night tonight,” she thinks, looking at the cloudless sky. Eisen, Freiburg in particular is not known for such crystalline nights. “The hunting will be not so easy. Moon and stars lend caution to human rats...” She sighs, thinking that perhaps this little war would rapidly go too far. But in a city without laws, what is ‘too far’?
Rising, she makes a quiet round of the manor grounds. She finds Erik, the Vestin prince in what will soon be a mead hall. With him is Djiel, the southern native that has attached himself to the prince. Erik nods at her entry.
“No hunting tonight?” He asks in his native tongue; as yet Erik hasn’t deigned to learn another.
“Nyet,” she replies. She continues in the Vestin 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.”
“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 a restful night will soon 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.
“I have an odd feeling tonight,” she says. “Your magic is of weather, da? Do you feel anything?” Erik frowns, running fingers across the rune-scars that mark his arms.
“Tonight? No. But clear skies here are a strange enough thing.”
“Mm.” The pair drink in silence for a space, Djiel watching. The powerfully-built black says nothing; his skill with any language other than his own is still growing thus his thoughts remain 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.” 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 the brilliant 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 the 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. Though many 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. Illyana knows that this night will find her in forests.
She 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. However, she has another way- the same way she first entered Freiburg; as a wolf.
Quietly thanking Matushka for her gifts, Illyana focusses 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 clothes vanish with Matushka’s gift, Illyana feels the world with canine senses. She sniffs the air, giving a low growl at the foulness she finds. 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 shantytown! Those who see it will not likely 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 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 now knows the way to go. Walking now, her tread silent as she listens for a repeat of the call. It sounds again closer, somewhere ahead. She goes to an easy lope, her wolfish thoughts knowing the sound as familiar to her, from her home near the Azov forest. But she cannot find 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 center. 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, but then with a shudder she once again is borne upon two legs. “I have found a wonder, I think...” She mutters. Louder 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!
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. Illyana steps back, the creature shifting on its perch with her movement. It shows little fear at her presence, momentarily preening a 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 somehow arranged, Illyana knows what must come next. She draws again upon her knowledge of Pyerym, and addresses the creature 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 its 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.”
“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 one eye, then the other. It spreads wings, releasing the branch and landing gently before Illyana on the ground. As Illyana kneels before the great bird, it speaks again.
“I give to you my sprit-skin, sister before Matushka, and take upon myself the greater years that you grant.” 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 there, 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 she settles against the oak, thinking.
Back at the manor, time has passed. It is 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 prepares to tear Freiburg apart to find his friends, Zora arrives home with a sway in her step and a grin on her face.
“Where have you been?” Erik snaps. Zora, taken aback for a moment, starts back. Her eyes narrow as 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 is 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.” Erik 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. He looks about, seeing nothing. He is about to leave when he hears 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 when 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. He follows, thinking, “White devil’s woman has powerful magics!”
Erik and Zora are quickly found. 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? 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.