Lore of Leyuna RPG (FRPG)

[The Kingpin]

"Mostly the latter," was the Scholar's prompt response. It helped that he had been practising telepathy for quite a while beforehand and had developed a respectable range of influence with it, but even for him, it had been a shock how far the Eye extended his range.

The two found themselves drawn to a mental image of a lecture hall, Faruq's voice at first seeming faded. the imagined visual soon shifted to a very real one as the Storyteller allowed them a glimpse through his eyes. The room was probably lavishly decorated once. A high ceiling with intricate carvings patterned with silver and gold, and the four black steel chandeliers were all that remained of the ballroom's previous decor. In place of banquet tables, long sofars chairs and intricate carpets,there were long, simplistic wooden benches that spanned the width of the room, assembled into a vast grandstand that got higher towards the back, allowing for those at the back to see as clearly as those at the front. It appeared Faruq was conducting a class, something the Scholar hadn't expected to see.

"...And the lesson to be taken from this story is what, exactly?" asked Faruq as he glanced around at his students, one young man raising a hand at the prompt. "Yes?"

"It is impossible to please everyone."

"Indeed. Some of you may one day find yourselves working alongside the leaders of this city, aiding in its progress. While the goal should always be to better the lives of those you serve, you must also remember that no matter what you do, there will always be some who are displeased. Their interests can very well be in direct conflict to those of the majority, so you will be forced to choose." explained the Storyteller, the image of the busy classroom vivid in the minds of Syria and Septimus both. "That will be all for today, I think. We will continue tomorrow."

It was only with the conclusion of the lesson and the milling out of the students in the ballroom-turned-lecture hall that his mind more directly focused on the voice in his head. Desrium, present to the side of the classroom, on the actual floor rather than the wooden platform leading up to the back of the room, was given a brief nod, mostly to draw his attention. "Greetings, Syria. I trust you are better rested, now?"

[C S]

"Much better rested." Syria looked to Septimus bemusedly. "I take it that my companion here didn't want you to worry about my prolonged, sleep induced silence, hmm?"

[The Kingpin]

"Considering the terms of our last conversation, is it really a surprise I would be concerned of your absence?" questioned the Storyteller.

"It was one of the first things he asked," confirmed the Scholar.

Entertainment coloured the Storyteller's tone as he commented, "Ah. I see Septimus is with us after all."

"I wouldn't miss this conversation unless the Ridgehorn flank I was cooking burst into flames," responded the Hueilin flatly

A burst of laughter communicated itself across the mental link, which left the Scholar wondering if it had been something Faruq's students had actually seen. He didn't get the chance to linger on it, however. "Desrium asked me to share his 'deepest gratitude with you, and tell you how much of an inspiration you have been for much of his days since you first met.' He seems quite disappointed that he is unable to share in this ability as you do," stated the Storyteller as his tone evened out.

[C S]

"It looks like he's found a way around it," Syria replied before humming. That wasn't quite right. "I should say, rather, he's using Septimus' work-around. Leave it to him to find a way to send thoughts to one who can't speak with them. Inspirational, indeed!" She moved her hands down Septimus' sides and patted at his scales while she gave her praise, smiling broadly at the dragon. "Although, you've become something of a courier to go with your storytelling, Faruq."

[The Kingpin]

"I can't really take credit for it," responded the Hueilin. "I simply saw an opportunity to let my friend know something I could not tell him myself," he explained, even as he craned his neck so that he was looking down at the Mage on his chest, his tongue flicking forward briefly to tickle her cheeks yet again, the dragon evidently drawing amusement in the unconventional gesture of affection, or at least, the reaction it got.

"You are both inspirations for the rest of Aster's people. I may be a simple storyteller, but I will see to it that your tales echo off the walls of every court, every household in Aster one day," stated the Elven Advisor.

"Mine's nothing special. I am just a scholar with a knack for getting into interesting situations."

[C S]

"And I'm just lucky to have been taken for the ride, really," Syria added on her own behalf. "The dealing with Morrelie, for instance; it was Septimus who did all the talking. All I did was make... further interactions... undesirable. Not in the awkward sense as much as... well that's hard to put into words. I know she became very displeased with me, though. Not enough to want me dead..." The mage trailed off, suspecting that she would catch herself in circular thinking trying to explain what had happened out on the grave plains.

[The Kingpin]

"Well it could well have been that very thing that saved you from an unpleasant fate," responded the Storyteller.

"It was. Morrelie was much more powerful than I had expected she would be. My father's been warned to take special care when she finally crosses his path. How she amassed such strength in such a relatively short time, I cannot say. But were it not for Syria's quick thinking, we would probably not be speaking now," stated the Scholar, remembering very clearly the sinking sensation that was brought about by the Millennial Mage's aura.

"Truly then, you are the hero of this story, are you not, Syria?" stated Faruq, impressed by the story the Scholar recounted for him.

[C S]

"As long as no one asks what my quick thinking quick-thought, perhaps. And if it will ensure that this does not happen; sure, I readily accept this wholly undeserved credit!" responded the bashful mage.

[The Kingpin]

The dragon's body seemed to shudder with the chuckle that escaped him at that. He hadn't had the chance to really ask about that yet. He would have to inquire once this was all over.

"The details tend to get lost in stories not told by those who lived them. You need not worry about what details are left out," reassured Faruq, amused by the Mage's reaction. He did not know what could have made Syria so shy of acknowledging her role in the story, but then, she always had been a bit of a shy one. He would not pester her about it, however.

"I am in Desrium's company at the moment. Is there anything you wish for me to inform him?" he inquired.

[C S]

"Whatever progress she was making towards Brodudika has been foiled, and will be so for some time, yet. But be warned, she moves while conserving her power, and when she DOES use it, she's a disaster zone. Morrelie may have gotten even stronger since he escaped her last." Syria glanced to Septimus. "I take it you told Arashi about that while I was sleeping?"

[The Kingpin]

The Scholar nodded. "He's working on a method to weaken her when she finds him," he answered.

"I will be sure to tell him. Septimus?"

"I believe we've said all that needs to be said. I wish you both a pleasant evening," responded the Scholar.

"And you likewise, my friends. Farewell." The link began to fade between them as the Scholar's magic began to recede from the Eye, the image of the lecture hall dissipating as they found themselves once more resting amidst the trees and the silence of their vacation spot. The steam wafting from the small pool nearby was as thick as ever, seemingly sustained constantly by the Scholar's spell. The scent of food was almost hypnotic, beckoning them. The Scholar himself found that an absolute calm had descended upon him, resting as he was on the snowy ground. His wings were partially splayed, forming small snow-banks along the edges. The barrel of Northern Cream at this point had gained a pleasant chill, the two mugs atop it telling of what was to come.

"Comfortable, m'lady?" rumbled the dragon as he looked down at the mage, an amused look on his draconic features.

[C S]

"Pardon the crassness, m'lord, but a witch has swayed my countenance for the worse. Will you be so enchanting as to banish her from my thoughts?" Syria replied with care to be extra flowery in her wording, almost to the point where she herself found it excessive.

[The Kingpin]

"I see. Tis quite a shame, that. Would you say that a meal, a drink and some affection would be sufficient to 'banish' her?" responded the Hueilin, amused. A squeak could be heard a few feet away, and the flowing of a liquid, the first of most likely several mugs of the drink before the night was out. "Perhaps the company of a less dragon-y sort?" he added, his tongue flicking past his lips to emphasise the latter detail. It wasn't usually a frequent action, as his other senses offered quite a measure of redundancy between them, but it did help sell the 'big scaly beast' aspect of him that was oh so entertaining to play up at times.

[C S]

"Make it so, my most-enchanting lord and -- oh that's enough of that." Syria huffed. "I swear, my enjoyment of those novels wanes every time we do this, you know? What's the sense in reading it when I've lived it and so on, so forth."

[The Kingpin]

That earned her a laugh. "Good. Leave that speech in the past. It makes me cringe every time I hear it." With that, he rolled to the side, helping Syria off and onto her back as he rose to his feet, a few moments of obscured vision and ephemeral smoke replacing his fire-breathing visage with that of the Scholarly elf, still dressed in his tattered 'costume'. Looking down at his outfit as he loomed over the Mage on all fours, he couldn't help the less than pleased look that he wore. "I can't wait to be rid of these...rags. I swear, the things one does for a convincing performance," he grumbled, even though a smirk had replaced his expression by the end of it.

[C S]

"Quite. It wasn't my favorite part to play, but anything to poke fun at that imperious persona of yours. Oh wait," Syria placed a hand on her lips in mocking shock, "you were talking about something else. My sincerest of apologies." Even with her mouth covered, her wryness came through clear as day in the twilight. "Silver linings, dear: you can always forego clothing entirely."

[The Kingpin]

"I could. But then I'd lose the fun of watching you eagerly anticipate it," he teased as he let his legs slip out under him, straightening out as he lay on the Mage's stomach, arms crossed under his chin, face mere inches from her own. "No sense getting you all hot and bothered before we've even had a meal, after all."

[C S]

The lady put her hands in the elf's hair and smiled, beside herself. "If that is your wish, Septimus, then by all means continue to stay in the rags you don't want to wear," Syria said. Letting her hands fall to his shoulders, she continued to tease him, saying, "You wouldn't mind undressing me, would you? It wouldn't be like you to get 'hot and bothered'... oh wait."

[The Kingpin]

The Scholar blinked. "I suppose," he started, his fingers undoing a button underneath them as he smirked. "I could do that too," he continued, as another button was undone. "But then, you'd likely start to feel rather chilly, wirshah or not," he concluded, as yet another one popped open. "Unless you were betting on being hot and bothered to solve that, perhaps?" he asked, his own smirk made visible as its own retort to her tone.

[C S]

Syria put her arms behind her head and laughed to the bare branches the stretched out over them both. "Knowing me as well as you do, Scholar, there is no need to ask such questions. And you are quite aware of it, too."