Lore of Leyuna RPG (FRPG)

[The Kingpin]

"Aster could stand to benefit from quite a few things," commented Septimus thoughtfully. "For instance, that front door."

"Front door?" asked Beshayir, confused by the sudden change of topic. "What's special about the door?"

"It doesn't rattle, despite the cold. It closes smoothly, like it has barely shrunk in the winter weather. Most doors are either made to fit summer, and rattle on their hinges in winter, or made to fit winter, and get stuck in their frames with the summer heat, sometimes even splintering or getting stuck open if the house owner's unlucky. This door's just as good now as it was during the summer. The only other places I have seen that were the stately homes and official buildings in Valenhad."

That surprised Beshayir. The young Pyromancer hadn't really considered the architecture with very much attention beyond the fact that the houses here weren't shaped like those in Thimeyra. She'd noted the small windows and wooden construction, and the furnace down below the house that helped keep the whole building warm, but she hadn't really spent much time looking at doors since leaving the City in the Sands, so she'd thought most were fairly similar. But now that she thought about it, the doors in this house were quite a bit better than the rickety rattling ones in the boarding house in Brodudika. It had her wondering what else she'd missed.

[C S]

"Daavenian buildings are as hardy as they come, Septimus. The doors and windows are as firm and steady as the foundation itself," Syria said with some pride. It was another saying of the professor's. "Oak was an engineer who used to teach engineering. His students are now engineers who teach engineering. I can't say there are a lot of Daavenians who could, say, throw together a sled-ship, but there are plenty who can settle some land and make things work."

"That's how Daaven started in the first place, you know," Willow chimed in. "A bunch of lads and ladies who found a lake in a forest-valley and decided to call it home. Then they felt really silly when the thunderstorms and blizzards rolled through."

"I guess that's why the thunderbird is such a charming fellow, trying to make amends, as it were." Syria giggled.

[The Kingpin]

"Or got tired of trying to shoo you out of his valley and decided you could stay," he responded to the Mage's comment. Outwardly, he hummed at the old Daavenian's statement. "I'd say you've all done a good job of building a city meant to last," was what he settled on. "I should probably sit down with the Professor and ask him about what he can teach me."

[C S]

"The generational secret of testing a thunderbird's patience and gaining its approval through stubbornness?" Syria suggested.

Willow tsked. "Syria, please. You're going to get Beshayir caught in that old story?"

Syria gave the old woman a knowing smirk and leaned against the kitchen door. Drumming her knuckles against the wood, she replied, "How to make one of these that fits its frame, then?"

[The Kingpin]

"I'm sure you enough about me by now, Willow, to know I can never resist a good story," responded the Scholar in a playful tone. "I'm as intrigued by the local tales of the Thunderbird as I am by the local scientific achievements. Any and all knowledge is useful to one like myself."

[C S]

"Oh, Septimus," Willow said as if wounded. "Beshayir, help your parents, dear."

"Sometimes these old stories have some merit to them, Grandma," the mage said cryptically, perhaps enjoying her game just a bit too much. It was not often she got to mess with the old woman like how Septimus would mess with her. It was all in good fun, anything to make this wonderful old lady sing on the inside.

Syria's expression blanked suddenly. "Oh shoot."

"Forgot something?" Willow asked, looking over a tall pot as she sprinkled some ingredients in.

"Someone. Seppy, you don't reckon that Gregori is alone today, huh?"

[The Kingpin]

Beshayir looked at the old Daavenian, her head tilting ever so slightly, not understanding what she was supposed to help with.

"I doubt it," responded Septimus a bit uncertainly. "Wynne was supposed to visit him, after all. It could well be he timed the trip for the holiday," he clarified. After all, not everyone could afford the luxury of a quick trip on dragon or gryphon-back. "But I agree, we should at least get in touch and wish him a pleasant Solstice, if nothing else."

[C S]

"He should be awake now, if he sleeps anything like Oak does," Syria responded, then took Septimus' arm in hers. She started on her way to the living room, sitting Septimus down on a comfy chair before plopping down on his lap.

[The Kingpin]

"Comfortable?" he asked, looking up at the mage once he was certain the chair wasn't going to tilt backwards any further than it already had. He was glad he'd set his satchel down by the door.

Beshayir, meanwhile, inched her way into the kitchen to look at the dishes not yet made, hoping she'd get lucky enough to sample some cake mix, or something else similarly delectable.

[C S]

"Let's say you're becoming a favorite seat of mine. And pillow -- I'd much appreciate having you in my bed more often." Syria leaned in close to say that into Septimus' pointed ear and flicked his piercing as she pulled away. "All in all, I'm ready to send my awareness across Aster for a little bit."

[The Kingpin]

The dragon-in-disguise chuckled at that. "As you wish," he stated simply, his eyes closing as a whitish glow began to waft from beneath the eyelids. His smoky brown amulet shone a rich golden hue as its powers activated, the Scholarly Elf reaching out towards the former Vindicator.

The sight he found himself looking at was both surprising and completely expected. The fireplace in the inn roared with life, and muffled, though joyous chatter could be heard in the peripheries, ignored for the most part by the elder mage, who was more preoccupied with the company of his old friend. Septimus could feel the illness had faded somewhat since he had last seen Gregori, but its effects were still present. A cough heard not long after he established his connection with the mage, was rough, harsh, the kind that made one cringe just hearing it, to say nothing of the one producing it.

"I wasn't expecting to hear from you so soon. What nonsense are you going to try and convince me of this time, dragon?"

"No nonsense. Just good wishes, for a pleasant Solstice," responded Septimus simply.

[C S]

"We'd never bother you with nonsense, Gregori. We mean the best, truly, even when you don't agree. Doesn't make it nonsense," Syria added with a false indignation. "All the best, Gregori, and may the coming spring be generous to your herbs!"

[The Kingpin]

There was a silence for some time as Syria's words sunk in. Eventually however, the elder mage managed to respond, "Thank you. May you enjoy the same." It was a brief, reluctant gesture, or at least it seemed to be. Septimus didn't dare try and pry the mage's mind to learn of how sincere it may have been. After all, the mage, despite being human, was still more than double his age, and had already warned him on that count. He'd just have to take it at face value and hope it was more than just a social obligation. Still, in the moments before the link faded, both the Scholar and the Mage were graced with the sight of Gregori returning to an animated discussion, or perhaps debate with his old friend, the glimmer of something resembling happiness smouldering in a heart that most had thought frozen solid.

[C S]

Syria let out a relieved sigh. "He's a good man. I'm glad he has someone to spend the day with. I don't think we'd be able to rope him into our announcement later, though. But while we're here, we really should get in touch with Vix, hm?"

[The Kingpin]

"Indeed. Let's see what our dear inn-keeping noblewoman has been up to," he agreed. He knew the Innkeeper would likely have whacked him over the head with a pan or mug or some other heavy thing within reach were he to say that in her presence. Still, it was an entertaining thought.

It was as he was amused by that thought that the smoky nothingness that was the unfocused Eye pulled itself together to form something more substantial, reaching out to Vix's mind.

"Vix?"

[Hopeflower]

Thoroughly distracted from her attempts at translation, Vix nearly jumped out of her skin. The long and very colorful list of curses that flowed through Vix's mind - and would have rolled off her tongue had she not clenched her jaw - was befitting of neither innkeeper nor noblewoman, and would probably have made even seasoned sailors blush. Her startled response to...apparently nothing at all drew curious stares from Arsenic and Rowan. She followed it up with a somewhat snippy inward, A little warning would have been nice, and a muttered, "Spider. Sorry."

Arsenic flicked a glance at her side of the plainly spider-free table and arched an eyebrow at her. He didn't say a word, but he did smirk and go back to his own book when Vix aimed a playful scowl at him.

[The Kingpin]

"Interesting. I hadn't thought you'd have such a varied range of vocabulary for being scared out of your wits," was the Scholar's response to that. His time roaming Aster had given him quite the range of curses to work with, but to hear so many of them in one place was a rarity even for him. "There wasn't really anything for it, I'm afraid. There aren't many ways to give warning ahead of something like this, and making you remember a random memory of me beforehand, while possible, isn't necessarily comfortable."

[C S]

"The Eye really does seem to have a knack for catching others unawares, come to think of it. I guess we haven't noticed it until now, because the ones we usually talk to are... old... and magically formidable... the sort that are exceedingly difficult to surprise." Syria reflected. "I recall that Gregori threatened you when you first contacted him in Yuraelia, actually."

[Hopeflower]

I wouldn't normally consider myself easy to surprise, Vix replied dryly, but suddenly hearing voices isn't usually a good sign. She sighed and rested her chin back on a loosely curled fist, staring at the words on the pages in front of her without really seeing them. After a few moments in which it registered that they didn't sound like they were in trouble and her heart rate started to calm, she offered, It's good to hear from you both.

[The Kingpin]

A low chuckle made itself audible through their link. "You needn't fear. The voices aren't your own this time," responded the Scholar jokingly. "It is nice to be heard, I must admit. I had feared we may not get the chance to speak again, in all honesty. Dangerous times, dangerous foes. But seeing as we have gotten this chance to speak again, we thought it would be nice to wish you a wonderful Solstice. Hopefully one filled with more than just books."