Lore of Leyuna RPG (FRPG)

[Hopeflower]

A solitary elf made for no less of a lonely picture, even as he walked with purpose and carried his head high. The white flakes that settled on his coat and the chill that set his shoulder throbbing only drove home that Viho couldn't afford to sit back and keep waiting for news. Time moved on regardless of how prepared he was to meet the new challenges presented to him. Too many people had already gotten hurt - it was past time to step up and give this bold, malicious group a firm reminder of why a skilled psychomancer was to be feared.

Better late than never, Viho supposed. But first came fixing his arm.

When Viho found Desrium, he stopped and greeted the armored being with a nod. It took him a moment to find the words he wanted. "If someone had told me a few months ago that one day I'd be helping to protect a city of do-gooders," he began contemplatively, sticking his hands in his pockets, "I'd probably have done a thorough check to make sure they were entirely sane."


The scratch of graphite on paper accompanied a smooth stroke of Arsenic's hand, curve meeting opposing curve as he detailed a pair of fierce, intelligent reptilian eyes. Somewhere in the process of working on the sketch, he'd made himself comfortable on the floor instead of on any of the readily available furniture. He was doing his best to focus on anything but the questions he had no answers to, but progress was slow and he was considering putting his project aside for the moment.

His concentration wasn't helped by the gentle bickering he was listening to with half an ear.

"No, no," Rowan was saying, waving a hand impatiently. "I don't go looking for trouble. Trouble just happens to find me. And sometimes Nick's a girl when it happens."

"So you've never tested him on purpose?" Vix asked, a teasing lilt to her tone.

Rowan opened her mouth to answer, stopped to think about it, and drawled, "Well..."

'I'm perfectly aware that you have, actually,' Arsenic put in distractedly, filling in a dark pupil.

"Oh?"

'Mmhm.' He didn't elaborate.

Arsenic's lack of detail and the fact that he stayed utterly relaxed prompted Vix to ask Rowan, "You embarrassed him that badly, did you?"

"I never put him in situations we couldn't have fought our way out of. He did well, as far as I recall," the older assassin said after a moment's pause. "Though I'm sure Aunt Zaltana would have had my head for putting him in harm's way at all."

Arsenic glanced up at that and pointed out, 'That's a given.'

[The Kingpin]

"Of course. One I very much mean to do justice to, even if no one else ever gets to appreciate the sight of it," responded the Scholar with a wry smirk. Standing from his spot, he waded across to the mage, rising further and further out of the water as he reached the edge. At its shallowest point, the water did not reach much higher than halfway past his knees, but the width of the pool meant that at its centre it would rise almost to his chin. Reaching his arms forward, he offered the Daavenian maiden a hand into the pool. "Content to stay up there in the cold, or would you rather actually get warm before you catch a cold?" he inquired only half-jokingly.


"My my, embarrassment and danger. Sounds like a good time," commented Andruil as he lay draped over the side of a bed in a posture that could only have been called cat-like. With his lower body set on the bed, his back against its side and onto the floor, and his neck and head set in Vix's lap, one would wonder how he wasn't in pain. But considering his tone, his antics and the clear lack of any other sign of discomfort, it seemed he was genuinely comfortable. Somehow.

[C S]

Syria peered down at Septimus neutrally for a moment or two. "It is a flattery all the same," she went on to say, belaying the Scholar's offer, "and maybe if you get a new chest to lock these things away in. You needn't chain that one up like you did the last, unless you find my likeness so alluring." It was only after saying her peace did Syria tuck her feet in to kick off of the edge of the pool and tackle Septimus into the water.


Desrium turned his helm towards the teacher on the fringes of the light. "Likewise," he replied. "If one were to tell a past-self of what my future held..." the armored being made a strange, descending hum. When he was young, he was too feared for anyone to speak to him with the exception of one tragedy. When he was older, he was a beast that was deserving of such exile. Two years ago, talks of gods, Justicars and elementals would have been gibberish to him. "Likewise," the armored being said again.

[The Kingpin]

The Scholar let himself be knocked backwards into the water with the movement as he caught her, though rather than sinking below the surface, he seemed to drift along the surface for a couple of feet before stopping, like he had momentarily become a raft. Standing once more, water halfway up his chest, he smirked. "My dear Syria, I may be a dragon, but I am not the sort to wrap my treasures in chains, be they of flesh or marble,"

[C S]

"You would much rather put them on shelves," the mage agreed, her hair drooping over her face and onto Septimus, weighed down by the water. "It's part of what worries me." Difficult to see though it was, Syria winked, grinning.

[The Kingpin]

"A shelf wouldn't do you justice, dear, even if it was a badly done marble imitation. I'd much rather put any effigy of you on a pedestal instead. Even if it was a pedestal only I would ever see," he responded, chuckling briefly at the thought of how Beshayir would react if she were ever to travel with him after that day came about. He'd probably have to put the sculpture away then, just for the sake of not disturbing the poor elf's peace and comfort. Regardless of blood, Syria may as well have been her mother, after all. It left him idly contemplating the damages human and elven culture had inflicted upon their own perception of themselves, to consider it such a taboo to see one another bare.

[Hopeflower]

'Not when you're the center of the attention.' A scar was carefully slipped in among the pattern of scales, then another, giving character to an otherwise stony face. 'It's a bit difficult to slip your target some poison then, you see.'

"Hey, you managed it. And I still can't figure out how you did," Rowan complained lightly.

The flicker of a smirk crossed Arsenic's expression. 'What's the fun in telling?'

"Oh, it's one of those secrets," Vix commented with a snicker. She wound a lock of Andruil's hair around her finger. "What's it worth?"

'More than a few bits of paper, that's for sure.'


Viho hummed his understanding. As little as he knew about Desrium and his past, there was a kinship in the simple fact that someone had given them both the chance to do at least one thing right. History found its leaders and heroes in strange places.

"If I am to be effective in this fight, I'll need my sword arm," the crippled elf noted. "I believe you'd mentioned something about that."

[C S]

In her way, Syria's mind was in tandem with Septimus' own without needing any aid of her magic. "Beshayir stands to live as long as you, dear. I appreciate you wanting to keep me around far past my time -- and preserve my youth, now that I consider it -- but the wellbeing of my daughter comes first and foremost." She gave him a squeeze nonetheless. "I do find it so sweet that you insist, though. Perhaps you will find a nice cave to make into a study, and display all your tributes to this little human you've taken as a wife."



Desrium hummed again. "Yes." Viho would not be blamed if he thought the conversation had ended then and there. The wind blew in the silence, and snow steadily rose on both his and the metal figure's shoulders. "If you can find the time," Desrium said finally after prolonged thought, "I would ask you to meet me at the ministry before dawn." Inwardly, Desrium noted how even Liorick would have a role to play in this battle.

In recent days, he had come to understand that he had not ended the Eternal War. With a stroke of the divine, he had vanquished demons from another land, but malice existed in forms that did not char and blacken. Even in the coldest winter, the wicked would thrive if the decent did not oppose them. As was the balance of this world, Desrium reasoned.

[Hopeflower]

"I'll make time." An easy promise to give, given the circumstances. It did, however, present a bit of a problem concerning Viho's lesson plans. It was already a rare night that saw him getting enough sleep. Cutting into what few hours he did manage to snatch was going to impact his concentration. Still, a little more lost sleep and a tweaked routine were small prices to pay, considering he was doing it to secure his students a safer city to live and study in.

[The Kingpin]

"So... many bits of paper?" asked the Knight as he let a hand idly toy with one of the Innkeeper's hands. "I'm sure I can find a book shop somewhere here," he offered a moment later, a wry grin crossing his features.


"Maybe. But remember, Beshayir is not so innocent as you think, dear," the Scholar reminded the Mage. "Unfortunate, but I doubt it would be the first time she's seen another woman bare considering the life she lived before we found her. Perhaps the first time she's seen a statue of one, but not the real thing," he continued as he let himself float back into the middle of the pool. It was a funny twist that Thimeyrans shared more of their sensibilities with humans than other elves, and yet considering what Beshayir had no doubt seen in the time she was alone, she had been pulled, perhaps uniquely so, towards her Western kin in that regard.

[C S]

"You will need rest and nourishment," Desrium preempted in a way that suggested he had yet another plan to see through. One that needed its most integral part to be in good health, and even better spirits, if the Paladin could manage it. "I can provide you with necessary amenities." It was one way to offer new room and board.


"As true as that is, dear, if I could spare her having to get used to seeing her sweet, and as far as she knows, very much innocent mother naked..." Syria trailed off into humming for Septimus to finish the thought.

[The Kingpin]

A thoughtful sound escaped Septimus at that. "Fair enough," he agreed. "In any case, those are concerns for another time, another place. Right now I'm much more concerned about enjoying a break from the worries and the chaos. Aren't you?" he questioned a moment later as his arms inched downwards now that he wasn't trying to catch her, settling a gentle grip around her waist.

[C S]

Syria nodded and planted a kiss on the Scholar's lips. "Take me into the night," said the mage as she pushed her hair out from between them.

[Hopeflower]

'Something else might be worth that, maybe,' Arsenic allowed after a moment of feigned contemplation. 'Depending on whether or not the books are worth much of a look themselves.'

"To think there used to be a time when you'd talk about yourself freely," Rowan said, half joking. "Now people need to barter for little details."

The mute assassin finally looked up from his drawing, one corner of his mouth pulling up into a crooked smile. 'When those details aren't mine to share or would be risky to have floating around, sure. I've yet to have telling someone my favorite color or about a childhood toy come back to bite me in the ***, though.'

Vix paused in playing with Andruil's fingers. "I can't see how it ever would."

'Exactly.'


If Viho was surprised by the offer for new accomodations, the low light and flurries of snow hid his expression. "Very well. Where?" It wasn't as though he had many possessions to move, he reasoned.

[C S]

"Your current arrangement. Except without the cost to you, in exchange for this service to Brodudika," Desrium replied. When he said, "You would best return there for the night, and be easy while you can," it was evident it was not something he was going to debate. "You will be nothing less than a soldier of distinction when the time, and trials, come. A knight of Brodudika."

[The Kingpin]

"Far too many romance novels, dear," was the Scholar's chuckling response to that, nibbling one of her lips in turn as he brushed her hair behind her ears.



"Ah. So nostalgia does not a good lure make. Noted," stated Andruil simply, his fingers grasping one of Vix's own, tracing along the length of each elegant yet work-worn digit. There was a beauty there that seemed to defy the harshness many years of labour had on them. They were soft, but not overly so. They were not callused either, however. Just firm enough to state that these were not the hands of the princess she may have been in another lifetime. And in a way, the Knight preferred that. Great as Princess Adsila was, she hadn't a hair on Vixen the Innkeeper. A small blessing, despite the costs.

[Hopeflower]

At that, Viho did visibly react. He flinched the slightest bit, a motion that a shiver couldn't have accounted for. "I'm grateful, but with all due respect, I would prefer not to be called such. It's not something I deserve."

It was the only objection he saw room to raise, but nonetheless the one he would have made either way. His discomfort over having his room at the boarding house paid for for him was swallowed and left a bit of a bitter taste in his mouth. Since he'd taken the teaching job, he'd been able to make ends meet. Luxuries might have still been beyond him, but that was something he could deal with. This was not something he seemed to have a say in anymore.


'I'd be in a lot of trouble right now if it did,' Arsenic remarked, choosing that moment to reach out for his mug and take a long sip of peppermint tea. Maybe not an effective lure, but the drink and the aroma associated with it did wonders to put him at ease even now. If he let his eyes slip closed, he could almost imagine he was ten again, drinking tea and reading in the sitting room, with his mother's gentle humming reminding him that life could be good.

Unaware of either man's thoughts, Vix flipped her hand over, spreading the fingers to make Andruil's explorations easier. While not callused, her hands were not unmarked either. The odd old, silvery scar crossed a finger here or a knuckle there. They were small and easily missed, and weren't reminders of slavery, but rather of past accidents with assorted knives and daggers. A larger scar, white and raised, called the base of her thumb home. It looked to be the sort of mark that being careless with broken glass left.

"Good thing you don't need to worry about any of us, then," the innkeeper said.

'Indeed.' It was spoken as though Arsenic didn't even need to think about it - and maybe he really didn't.

[C S]

"It is not a title, but a promotion," Desrium replied. "You may feel undeserving of even this because of your past. Many days, I feel the same of myself. Nevertheless, this is not a matter of worthiness, but necessity." He looked up to the snow-filled sky and was quiet for another short time.

"'Doubt is yet another thing that must be balanced. Should you feel nothing but doubt, you will then accomplish nothing. If you live free of doubt, you become arrogant, and fall from the path of the righteous.' In the words of an old friend of mine. Meditate on this before you lay yourself to sleep, Viho. You must find balance in yourself before you can protect others."

[Hopeflower]

Viho shook his head after a moment's thought. "No disrespect to your friend, but I've had long enough to know that's never that simple. 'Balanced' is not a word I'd use to describe any of us. I've touched minds that belonged to people who by all logic should have been babbling lunatics. Instead, they were artists and innovators in their own ways." He gave a short, almost humorless chuckle, then exhaled heavily in what wasn't quite a sigh. "Better to know exactly who you are and keep yourself firmly rooted in that than try to walk a knife's edge."

[C S]

"If that is your way. I will not impose. I only ask that you keep this knowledge in mind. 'We are not perfect. That is what makes us mortal. Do not let it dishearten you.' These were also the words of Inarius," explained the Paladin.