by Talon Starblade » Thu Aug 07, 2003 2:13 pm
(ooc: editted together from AIM session.)
The young woman in the plain white dress led Eathan through the twisting, angular corridors; she moved quickly, and the crowds parted quickly for her.
Since she had him by the arm, he kept up with her, stride for stride.
After some time, they came to her room; an expensive looking affair, with luxurious furnishing. A large line of bookshelves lined one wall, next to a huge and cluttered desk. The opposite wall was lined with weapons and arms. The most prominent feature in the room, however, was her bed; a huge circular frame of incredible woodwork, surrounded by a sheer veil. She gestured to a table with a pair of cushioned chairs. "Please... seat yourself."
Eathan gave the room a solid look over. In their own ways, the books were as facinating to him as the weapons. "Thank you," he said, as he took a seat.
The table was conspicuously close to the wall of weapons, all of which looked very violent, dangerous, and well worn.
[MX: There's a huge variety of weapons; a few of them are likely to resemble swords he is trained with, but will still have an alien feel to him]
She sat on her bed, only a few feet away, facing him. He couldn't tell if her gaze was intense, or just vacant. She tilted her head slightly. "Do you wish refreshment?"
Eathan turned his eyes back to his beautiful hostess, yet couldn't shake the feeling he might be sitting in the middle of a Spider's den. "Actually, I am a little thirsty. Thank you."
She rose, gracefully, and opened a cabinet. She withdrew a bottle, a silver bucket of shaved ice, and a pair of crystalline goblets. They looked ridiculously fine and expensive. She sat at the table, across form him, opened the bottle, and served his drink. She returned to staring at him, intensely.
He couldn't believe a woman could move with the kind of fluid grace she was. And then, there were her eyes. He finally blinked, and shook his head a little, to clear his head a little. "Thank you again," he said, taking a sip of the drink of the red wine she'd pured. "I'm sorry for staring. I've never seen anyone your like... Or your equal." He took another sip, to try and fight back his dreaded shyness... Which he could already feel crawling up his spine.
The woman (or was she only a girl? her age was impossible to guess...) did little more than tilt her head again. "My equal?" For only an instant, she smiled; it was gone in a moment. "I should know the name of you and yours, if it pleases you." She took a dainty sip from her own goblet.
"My name is Eathan Drake. We call ourselves 'Humans.' To be honest, I don't know where my homeland is, in relation to this land. My instructor and our class were on a camping event, to help focus on our practicing, before a tournament we were to enter into, next week. But when I woke up the next morning, I, my tent and everything I have were in the middle of a group of towering stones. I ran into the caravan I came here with, half a day later."
She listened intently, then leaned back with her cup as he finished. "When sorrow comes, they come not in single spies, but in batallions..." She glanced down. "Then your dialect shall be but the first of many walls across'ed your fate. You have truly come far, across many more leagues than you might suspect. It will take much doing to return you thence..." She tilted her head, this time without repressing her slight smile. "Others might think you mad."
"As much I was afraid things might be like that... I'm not surprised in the least. Please forgive my asking, but how is it that you know my language." Eathan didn't normally talk like this, but his gut told him that if he used even the lightest of jargin speach, she wouldn't understand.
She smiled again. "The silence often, of pure innocence persuades, when speaking fails. It is not enough to speak, but to speak true." She leaned back slightly, and took the tone of one who recites from memory. "Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them."
"Now that's a bit of phiolsophy I've heard before."
"Honest plain words best pierce the ear of grief." She closed her eyes then, as though savoring something. "Leo Tolstoy, Mark Twain, Ambrose Biercre, Ray Bradburry... of all these giants, Shakespeare holds a central place in the temple of my mind..." Her gaze grew slightly more piercing. "I know of your home, Little Dragon. And I believe I can send you to it's shores again. But as said before, it will take much doing." She leaned foreward a bit, the cut of her dress distracting him slightly. "Can I assume I have at least a portion of your trust in what I say?"
Eathan's eyes went wide. "As surprised as I am, yes, you do have at least THAT much. You know of my world, and I'm a little ashamed to say, more about the literature of my world than I do. Do you have any theories on how I even got here?"
She pursed her lips; the deep red wine glistened brightly on them. "'How poor are they that have not patience...' This strange passage hath deprived you of your discipline. I can at the least allow you such practice as befits a day in your service." She stood, sashaying slightly, and slipped a slender sword from a rack on the wall. Eathan was quick to note that while it was of ornate craft, it was wood; it's length was light, and blunt. "Pray spar with a lonely lass, as we pass words?"
"I would be honored. Though normally, I wear padding when I spar." Eathan rose to his feet. "I take it there's a sparing room, or something like it we could go?"
She smiled, and looked unusualy sweet for a moment as she twirled her sword easily. "There should be enough room within for our needs. Have you your arms besides you?"
He nodded and rose to his feet. Standing in front of her, he bowed out of respect, then slowly drew out his bokken. Soluted, then assumed a waiting ready stance, weapon out. "It seems I'm gonna be at quite a loss on this world, if people are gonna know more about me and my world, than I do about this one. I still don't know where this sword pendant came from, or what the rune on it means. Not to mention the wierd sensation I got from it, when I held it."
As she listened, she swirled her sword about in an unusual flourish, as her opening salute. Ever since they'd met, she'd kept her arms close to her body; the brilliant white of her dress made it a little hard to see her. Something seemed unusual. "The sense you defer to your bauble is not unwarented... there is some simple energy about it; nothing of great concern." She stood at the ready, her arms held close. "Though only one with the gift would see anything but a simple metal casting."
With all the surprises she'd landed on him so far, Eathan wasn't about to underestimate her. He kept to his guard, watching her movements. His was a fighting art, likely hers, was the real thing. "I've been feeling things like that since I was a child. The stones that controlled the lizards that pulled the caravan I road in on. The feeling was even stronger.
"Fashion the opening of your desire..." She lifted her weapon, slowly to point at the base of his sword. Her stance was as poised as any motion she made before. "...the wierding stones? Was it a jewel, engraved with metal lines of power? And did you use this stone yourself?"
"Yes on both questions. Would you like the first strike?" Eathan focussed on his training, focussing in on the point where her collar bones met her sternum, no matter how enticing the view lower was. He let his peripheral vision drink in her movements and form, trying to read what they could.
[MX: Contest of skills: 25 vs ?? = Failure]
She moved as quickly as the flutter of a bird's wing; her sword leapt, but not where he expected; she didn't take advantage of her feint though, instead offering a playful smile. "It seems you have at least a touch of the gift, then. An attenuation for all things ephemeral. A curse, or a blessing, depending on who you query..."
"Are you talking about Magic... Real Magic?" /She can probably kick my ass, six ways from sunday. She could probably read me like a book too.// "Please forgive my asking, but are you related to any of the Fey races? While it seems you have a wide working knowledge of my world, I'm afraid all I have are ancient folk tales, and the imaginative prose of storytellers to work from."
She quirked an eyebrow, but her tone and poisture were as imperturbable as ever. "My knowledge of your world has no signifigant depth or breadth; what I have told you now was the result of much struggle and scrying on my part... yes, through the processes you refer to as 'magic.' They are but a natural part of our world; though the laws they define are less aptly understood..." She stepped foreward, her blade held straight; her other arm must have been tightly held against her back. "Those who understand and use the laws are mages... they bend the rules of flux and anchor to their desire. If any have absolute knowledge of it, they haven't publicized it." She moved foreward suddenly, her sword arced to strike against his, pinning it in the air as a simple opening move.
"And I can sence it," he said, as he tried to side-step the move. Something told him that likely he could learn a GREAT deal from her. He tried to move to get around it her blade, but his own doubt probably did more against him than she likely would. Then a stray though hit him... "Does that mean I might be able to do things myself... With Magic?"
She nodded mildly as she swirled her blade. "Ahhh... he begins to see the appeal of my favor! If you posess the gift, then yes; it may still be honed. As with all things, only dedication and intelligence is required." She swept her blade around his,"Have you any particular interests? Or shall any craft suffice?"
[MX: Skill test: Roll 7 of ?? = sucess ]
[Parry attempt. I still only have my Jacket on. So unless I crit, I'm pretty well screwed.]
[MX: Parry Attempt: Roll 16 of 7 = Failure]
The blade slipped past his own with unexpected ease; but it did not strike heavy. It simply came to rest against his side, stroking his shirt gently. She simply continued the conversation"...judging by the rarity of mana on your world, I suspect any circle of spells would be alien to you."
"Well... My grandfather had taught me the Rune stones of our ancesters... Even told me that he thought he'd made something happen once. But I'm pretty open minded. Especially now."
[Strike attempt... Not likely, but worth a try... If successful, he WILL pull the strike.]
[MX: Skill Test: Roll 10 of 14 Sucess]
[Parry Test: Roll 8 of ?? Sucess]
The attack glanced of her blade as she twisted her wrist in a tiny motion. The heavy blow stung his own hand, reminding him of how unarmored they were. "Runes... what language does your knowledge of symbols descend from? You may need to learn a completely new set; no easy task."
"The language is called 'Futhark,' but in the old times, they were called 'Odin's runes.' The story told, that when Odin was hung upside down from Yaggsahdryll, the world tree, for some crime, he saw the Runes in the water beneithe him. He gathered them up, and braught them with him, when he finally freed himself, and gave them to the people. I get the feeling my Sensei could likely learn a few things from you."
She executed a diagonal slash, bringing her blade to bear against his far arm; a difficult maneuver that missed by the thinnest of margins; She made a slightly pouty look. It was unsettling to fight someone who needed no balance from her off hand; he still couldn't see what she'd been doing with it.
[MX:Skill test: (Hit Right arm) Roll 16 of ??-4 Failure]
[A parry, to try and throw her off balance... Yeah, right]
[MX:Parry: Roll 10 of 7 Failure]
This time, her attack struck home; though again, there was too little force behind it to cause even a bruise. "Futhark? Interesting... I seem to recall such a language. I know it not myself, but it would be a useful start in any case. You must realize, though, that Runic magery is primarily a... shall we say, 'improvisational' form of magic. You will need intimate knowledge of the runes you use, as well as the language they hail from."
"Well, my grandfather had me learn them backwards and forewards... I know them by name, by number, and even the individual stories behind them. At least what he knew of them. At one point they even became part of the Nordic written language, as actual letters beyond their original meanings... Is improvizational magic a problem?
She smiled again, though she hid it less. "You may know what each symbol means... but to utilize a rune, you must have a deeper understanding of it's essence; it's history. As for improvization... your cleverness shall be the limit to your effect." She took a defencive stance, waiting for him to move. "You may study the Futhark rune in your passtime, drawing the hidden essence out of the mundane. For this, you may need no teacher. But I can provide for you a tome detailing a more signifigant dialect of runes."
"If you think that's the best way, then so be it. It's probably been so long since the true meaning of those runes were known, or their power drawn from them, that I'd likely be recovering what was lost. I am very willing to learn. In more ways than one."
[He's going to attmpt a feignt, to make it look like it's going for the body, but striking for the hand.]
[MX: Contest of skills: Feint]
[(Roll 8 of 14) vs (Roll 14 of ??)]
[Margin of sucess = 6 vs ?: Eathan wins]
The girl let out a tiny gasp as her sword simply wasn't in the right place at the right time; He could tell the trick had only barely worked; But it had worked.
[Eathan Strike: Roll 11 of 14 = Sucess]
[Girl Parry: Roll 15 of ??-6 = Failure]
The girl let out a quick (and somewhat cute) yelp as his sword struck the pommel of her weapon; she seemed quite surprised, and barely managed to keep hold of it. She was quiet for a moment, apparently just a tiny bit stunned at his sucess.
[MX: Trust me... it was about as close as such a roll can be :-)]
[Thanks.]
[MX: I just don't want you gettign too cocky. No offence intended.]
[Even Rookies can get lucky...]
"I didn't hurt you, did I?"
At that moment, the girl seemed to lose all her composure, and let out a gale of laughter; her voice was beautiful, and as clear as a silver chime. She sat back onto her bed, with a sigh, and put down her weapon. She was smiling broadly. "Fear not for all but my pride, Child of Dragons. I have learned my fill of pain..." She stood, and returned her weapon to it's place on the wall "...though it seems even such as myself may still learn a lesson from a novice now and then." She returned to her bed, and patted the matress beside her. "Come. Sit with me."
Eathan smiled back, as he put his sword at rest. Then he thought about it, and put the wooden blade on the table. A sign that she had his trust. Then he joined her on the bed. "You called me 'Child of Dragons.' Why?"
She gave him a quirky smile. "You must be a stranger to these lands... a drake is a mighty beast, born of Dragon's blood. Some would say that dragons hold the only true keys to magic... that mages have a drop of dragons in them..." She paused then, her face more serious again. "...and you do seem to wield some latent talent, beneath the facade you show the world..." She leaned a little closer, speaking softly. "I can bring it out of you... show you the first step on the long path. It may take you home. That is my offer. Will you hear my wishes in return?"
"And my family name is Drake," Eathan chuckled. "Do forgive me. I and my people take our names for granted... It goes back centuries. My grandfather once told me that names hold a kind of power." Eathan swallowed at her drawing closer. "And what kind of 'wishes' would you have?" Oddly enough, with the potentials to learn, he might actually consider staying a while.
"My patron... Karuzhe... seeks a mystic blade. He has gathered the greatest explorers, thieves, and treasure-hunters in the land, to search for it. That is the reason for today's gathering." She tilted her head a little, as though lost in memories past. She licked her lips slightly before continuing. "It... is also... the object of my desire." She turned to one side, and stroked her left hand across her right shoulder; Eathan then became aware of why he had so utterly failed to predict the movements of her right hand; She had none. Where her right arm should have been, her shoulder was only a smooth, featureless surface.
It came as quite a shock that he had simply never noticed it before; but her manner and motions had simply not brought attention to her disability; the brilliant white dress hid it well.
Eathan let the shock flow away from him, not wanting to insult her. Even without the arm, she was an incredible vision. He swallowed, knowing the effect she was having on him. The sword must be incredibly important. "Do all of your desires draw such attention?"
"No... none such as this." She looked a little distant. "Do you know... I once held it, myself... briefly, as I struggled against it's previous owner. It can never be seperated from the hand of it's owner; but I was not skilled enough to keep him from seperating me from my arm, and he retook it then. I have never seen it since."
MechanistoX: She looked deep into Eathan's eyes. "Go with the expedition. Find the sword. Return it to Karuzhe, that I might study it once more. Your talents may be useful for the ordeal ahead of you; perhaps this was your fate."
Eathan thought about his father, and grandfather. Perhaps it was his destiny. In taking up the Martial Arts, perhaps he'd been seeking what he'd found. "No road worth taking, is ever an easy one," his Sensei and Grandfather had both told him. More than once. It would be dangerous, probably foolhardy, but what an adventure. "I'll do it," he said almost as a whisper, looking equally deeply back into her eyes. He didn't know what it was he was looking for in them, or what he might actually find, but look he did. "I'll take the quest. Teach me what I need to know. It's possible that that knowledge itself, may be worth more than going home anytime soon."
She smiled. Strangely. This smile seemed more genuine; more heartfelt. She then stood, and slowly perused the bookshelf, eventually taking a thick, heavily reinforced book in hand. The handed it to Eathan. "Here. An elementary book on the nature of runes, and the most basic workings of symbolic magic. You may learn from it at your leisure. As for the emergance of your powers..." She held forth her one hand, intending him to take it. He felt a strange prickle on the back of his neck. For some reason he could not fathom, it seemed more signifigant than a simple handshake. It was a nearly ominous sense of forboding...
Eathan rose up while he took her hand. "Throughout my childhood, I've fought to to ignore that feeling, afraid that people would think me mad. Only to find out that it was something far grander. And it only got stronger, after my grandfather had died. My father had died when I was a child." Eathan took a quick look at the book in his other hand, and the writing on it. "By any chance, is this in a language I'll actually understand? Or will that be part of what I'm going to have to learn?"
The girl turned her head to one side, a playful, teasing motion. Her only response was pain.
[Will test: Roll 15 of 14 = Failure]
White hot lightning seemed to flow from her hand, into his; faster than his nerves could sense, a devestating pain filled his head, as though his arm, shoulder and neck were one continuous electric current. It left his arm in agony, and his head felt as though it were about to split open. Just before he felt he might fall unconcious, the pain abruptly stopped; there was no after-effect; there was no lingering headache, and his arm was untouched.
He realized he had fallen to his knees, as the girl leaned foreward and placed three ice-cold stones in his hands. She spoke as each was placed. "Percieve and Translate... Convey and Deliver... Word and meaning. They are of the Angorkhen set of runes. You will find them referenced in the book; along with others. I only wish we could have taken the more patient route, but time is of the utmost essence... I suggest you learn what you can on your own from now on."
[MX: Eathan has gained a few skills, all are temporary:
Activate Runes (m/vh)IQ-3 (+1 Cp)
Runes Lore: Angorkhen (m/vh)IQ-3 (+1 Cp)
Angorkhen Rune:Percieve/Translate (m/h)IQ-2 (+1 Cp)
Angorkhen Rune:Convey/Deliver (m/h)IQ-2 (+1 Cp)
Angorkhen Rune:Word/Meaning (m/h)IQ-2 (+1 Cp)
Eathan has also gained a -5 point Disadvantage to pay for them. Not telling!]
Eathan rose up off the floor. "Wow. What a rush. Is this permenent?"
The girl shrugged. "Power borrowed is never forever. Though it may not last till your elder years, it will suffice for your current quest. Perhaps a year or two, at the very least. You will wish to study the runes of your own choosing; this is not the most practical of sets, but it may prove especially useful in the immediate future."
"I'll have to look over the designs I found on the rocks around where I landed. They might be related for all I know."
The girl remained impassive. "If it must be done. But there is little time to waste.... Karuzhe is not the only one who has sent his agents searching."
"I understand. I thank you, my lady. You have given me a gift, few of my world are likely to ever truly see... As temporary as it is. Thank you. I will not let it go to waste."
The girl took his hand, and kissed his cheek lightly. It took him completely by surprise. She turned back towards her desk then, gesturing towards the door. "The book and the stones are all I have to offer. Go now, and blessed-speed." She paused, and glanced over her shoulder, but said nothing before returning to her desk.
Eathan paused at the table, long enough to recover his bokken, which slid back into his belt. At he door, he stopped, and looked back at her. He thought of something interesting to say, rather than just "goodbye," then it came to him. "May a new star shine over our meeting once more," he said, borrowing somewhat from Tolkien.
The girl seemed to pause from her reading; but he could tell nothing else of her thoughts or manner. The door to her chamber opened; a guard beckoned him to follow. "I shall return you to your allies. They await in the caravan, just outside." Unfortunately, the words were gibberish to Eathan.
[Rune casting attempt... Skill total, 12. Perceive/Translate & Word/Meaning.]
[MX: Skill test: Roll 11 of 12 = Sucess]
Eathan felt a little light-headed for a moment. As his head cleared, he realized that the guards words now made perfect sense! A welcome, though unsettling, effect.
The guard frowned slightly. "Is something wrong?"
"Ah, no," he said with a smile, having cast his FIRST spell ever. "Can you repeat what you said?"
The guard arched an eyebrow, looking quite confused. "Huh? Speak sense why don'tcha!"
While he'd been successful, Eathan could have kicked himself... He'd only cast a spell that would let HIM understand... He could feel the spell flowing in his mid, and relaxed, letting it die out. If he was successful with the next one, he wouldn't need it. Holding all three stones, he concentrated on them, and the effect he wanted. Just like a computer, you had to put things the right way, to make things happen the way you wanted it.
[Releasing previous spell, and casting a better one, using all 3 runes. Skill is sis still 12]
[MX: Rune casting: Roll 9 of 12 = Sucess]
The addition of a third rune didn't seem to add to the complexity; then again, these runes seemed to be doing all the work by themselves, needing only an invocation. The light-headed sense returned, and left him with the same eerie awareness as before. The guard looked just as puzzled.
"My apologies. Inexperience. Could you please repeat what you first said?"
The guard frowned impatiently, and nodded his head to follow. "Sure... Just follow me. Your friends are waiting for you by their caravan."
"Thank you." And follow he did.