A Wedding in Veyshan, part 1

Log Info

• Title: A Wedding in Veyshan, part 1
• Emitter: Elleandra
• Characters: Cryosanthia, Braelnoir, Elleandra
• Place: Veryshan
• Time: Sunday, February 14, 2021, 9:30 PM
• Summary: Halueth, Elleandra's grandmother, invites Cryosanthia and Braelnoir to her grandaughter's wedding in Veyshan. They travel to a verdant forest where they enter ruins of a magnificent structure. Sylian greets them, and they meet Parvem, while Halueth goes ahead to make sure the nuptials are ready. While they wait, some of the story of the area is shared, and Lily makes a new friend.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-  Appearing, in Order  =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Cryosanthia  6'9"     291 Lb     Sith-Makar        Female    A dashingly tall, elegant white-scaled lizard woman.
Braelnoir    5'11"    146 Lb     Human             Female    A tall, pale Acanian woman, branded in silver.
Elleandra    5'4"     108 Lb     Wild Elf          Female    Blue-haired, green-eyes, Sylvanori in green leather.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-  NPCs of Note  -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Sylian                           Wild Elf          Female     Elleandra's Mother
Halueth                          Wild Elf          Female     Elleandra's Grandmother
Parvem                           Wild Elf          Female     A druid who hasn't left shape change in centuries.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=

While the winter is bitter in the north, to the south it is of no consequence. There, somewhere on the south eastern borders of The Great Dune Seas, nestled against the mountains that form the barrier wall that separates them from the Golden Costs, is an oasis of sorts. It is perhaps a remnant of the older climate that benefits greatly from the springs and mountain streams that rush through it before being parched by the endless thirst of the dunes.

This patch of green is a forest, complete with towering trees, mossy stones, and ruins of stone. It is clear that once upon a time, a people lived here. But that was long ago, for the ruins now are weathered to the point where its unclear what purpose they might have served. Buildings? Pathways? Foundation of a tower or stone wall? Only an expert could perhaps learn the truth of it.

But it is not anthropology that summons Cryosanthia and Braelnoir here today. It is friendship and love that is the purpose of this brief vacation. A blunt and incredibly confident Sylvanori woman has summoned them to mark a very special occasion: a wedding.

Elly's legendary grandmother herself delivered the invitations. Very old, very experienced, friendly but with a very blunt sense of humor and no filters due to a long life of being annoyed with people treating her like some damned hero. She took an immediate liking to both of the scale-sisters, since they didn't curtsey or bow or any such nonsense.

Cryosanthia would not miss it for the world, and nearly the whole of her world is here with her. Her scale-sister, Braelnoir, and her foundling, Little Fang, who is discovering that the middle of winter doesn't mean it's winter everywhere, even if it's sunrise somewhere.

The whitescale stands on the ancient stones, scoured of meaning, the breeze whipping her short cape. Her pinkscale youngling stands on her backpack, holding her clutch-mother's horns and looking around and twisting her Sith'mom's head to turn towards whatever catches her fancy.

Cryo allows herself to be steered, and rubs at her snout, "This one is still tickled by Elly's grandmother."

Braelnoir stands close to hand, surveying the dunes with a thoughtful eye ill-fitting the mercenary of the time whence the scale sisters met.

Her answer to the summons was... her sort of respectful. Some 'luv', the clap of fist to breastplate, offers to some rounds and tales of her granddaughter's valor and compassion in the halls of Merkabah, and beyond in helping the Korite deal with her other problems. Whilst some braggery was involved, it wasn't so much blowing sunshine up anyone's dark side as making the story good.

Now that she's out in the warmth again, clad in lighter fare under her militant equipment(an important part of a balanced Korite), she nods up to the Sith, "She's a trip tha's fer sure. Not sure she dug th'salsa, though." A shrug and she brushes her hair back over her shoulder, letting the spun silver writhe in the breeze. She lifts her gaze to the area of Cryo's horns, then and wonders, "Havin' fun, squirt?" in a playful tone.

Sylian is likely familiar to both Cryosanthia and Braelnoir. Elly's mother is not nearly as hard to get a hold of as Halueth (her grandmother) has proven to be. When one apparently lives in epic stories, though, this is to be expected. What isn't expected is how much alike the two appear. The likeness is uncanny, and it would be natural to mistake them as sisters, if not twins.

Their dress makes the two easier to tell apart. On this day Sylian wears a gown of light green. It is decorated with silvery leaves that, upon further inspection, appear to be living. Halueth is dressed in travel-stained leather. Not that she's in view. She has gone on into the forest to finalize arrangements and 'ensure those two kids aren't getting ahead of themselves.'

This leaves Sylian with Elly's friends. She laughs softly as Halueth retreats into the woods. Her warm smile is turned to Little Fang, "She truly suits you, Cryosanthia. Such a sweet child." No number of bites will change her mind on that point.

"But come, you should rest and be refreshed. We will be called soon. I assume that Elly has told you nothing at all about what is to take place?" She hesitates only a moment, then bursts into soft laughter, "Cause she herself doesn't even know. Halueth has something very old in mind, and how she managed to arrange this is beyond me."

"Yessssss." Lily hisses, high pitched and happy. Steering Ssassa is fun and a little bit of a workout. She can also pretend she's steering a wagon, or perhaps a fixed artillery piece. If she could only find the lever that fires Cryo's breath weapon, that would be cool. Literally.

"Thank you, she means everything to me," Cryo says, while she's currently aimed at the sky. Her gaze is brought groundwards and enough towards Sylian that eye-contact is possible. "Elly's told us nothing, just come as we are, and I see why. This one looks forward to what Halueth has planned. I've greatly anticipated the day."

Cryo is wearing her fanciful swashbuckler outfit at the moment, tight leather pants, a short skirt, a corset, a blouse, a cape and Lily in place of a hat. All white, which gleams in the warm sunlight.

Braelnoir looks to the Elven matron with a curious gaze, "She an'.... Kami'r...." a quizzical glance to Cryosanthia, then back to Sylian, "gettin' hitched." She rubs at the back of her neck, "Someone' says some nice words, they make promises an' then the drinkin kicks off, right?" At least she isn't so Korite to mention the brawling starting then(out loud) but, clearly, matrimony has obviously not been amongst her courses of study.

"I'm just pleased it is in a warm climate. I wouldn't want to freeze my daughters on their wedding day," says Sylian. With a little gesture, the wood elf sends little petals of shimmering rose to swirl upwards and around Lily, before they come together in a garland of purple and blue flowers that settles gently on the little one's head.

Sylian guides them further into the forest. Along the way, there are signs of recent conflict written into some of the stones. Brilliant white scars can be seen on some of the stones, and others are blackened, as if by intense flames. New growth surrounds these wounds, and already the green things work to cover them with moss and vine.

"So that's it in essence, Braelnoir," she agrees. "They do their thing, then we leave them to celebrate nearby while they are doing the biggest thing of all." She smirks as she looks back over her shoulder, "Regardless, it's our job to do our best to enjoy the evening more than they do. Knowing my mother, it'll be a competition of epic proportions. I'm just relieved she didn't decide to entertain you both with a quest afterward." A brief pause. "I mean, I don't think she will do that.. not sure if we'd survive it."

Lily watches the petals in awe as they fly about and then settle on her head in a garland. She immediately snatches it off to look at it, peering closely before setting it back on her head.

Cryo, untrammeled for the moment, examines the recent signs of conflict, and more recent engulfment by the foliage. At least once she rests her hand on the trunk of a tree in passing. These have been healed, she hopes. "It is nice being able to let Lily out of her parka. I have missed the summer."

A grin creeps along the whitescale's mouth, "It would be hard to enjoy ourselves more than Elly and Kami, this one has heard them. A quest might peak the cries and screams, but the... ah... battles, would not last nearly long enough. I'm curious to see what competition she comes up with."

Braelnoir hmmmm's softly as she considers that, "Seems straightforward enough." she says with a shrug, "Never done me a weddin' before."

Duh.

Still, "Feel like there's more to't. 'specially if we're gonna have more fun'n they do." That brings the brawl up higher on the list. It's a tenuous tie, though. Hmm.

The Korite considers the petals on Lily's head and smiles warmly, and she growls and hisses an affectionate, "The adornment well suits your scales, Little Fang." in Draconic, before she tracks her sister's hand to the battle damage and her own background points to probable causes before cryo's remarks bring a smirk to her lips, "Clearly you ain't hung round th'Ox long enough, luv."

"While I love my mother dearly, she has a rather strange take on.. hmm.. dealing with people." Syliana shakes her head, "I imagine she dislikes the cold. Her kind seem better suited for warm climes, though they are clever enough to settle pretty much anywhere. Anywhere where they might stay away from dangers, though sadly there is no place that lasts for long."

As they move away from the dunes, the air grows almost misty, and the sound of bubbling water, like a vast cooking pot, can be heard.

"And yes, I suppose it will be difficult to defeat them at that. We are a family of passions, and though mine is different, I would expect those two to grow quite heated." She laughs softly, shaking her head. "I do hope they didn't cause too many disturbances. Regardless, I'm sure we'll think of something suitable. This place needs laughter to banish the shadows of the past."

Syliana stops when the group reaches a bit of a clearing, where the ruins form a broken stone circle. In its center is a bubbling hot spring, somewhere around ten or fifteen paces across. There are many places to sit here. It is not empty, though. A large white tiger lifts its head to survey the guests. It rises after a moment, stretching its considerable length out and yawning in a way that shows all its teeth. The creature pads its way along the edge of the waters, stopping to settle on its haunches and calmly regarding the guests.

"My apologies, this is a friend of mine. Parvem wouldn't wish to miss the wedding, as she's been part of the family for many long years."

Up close, the signs of many old wounds can be made out, though it seems they do not trouble the beast now. More of the signs of recent conflict can be seen on the stones here, as well. It seems that the fighting here was more intense, and in one place, off to the east, beyond the circle of stones, is an expanse of earth nearly as large as the pool itself that has been blasted bare.

"I must say, it's been a quick healing. She who dwelt in these ruins had been here far too long to be swiftly forgotten," murmurs Sylian.

"Oh I've been at the Ox-Strength enough, the fights go all night." Cryo trills a quick answer, then focuses on Sylian's words, following her into the mist. "Laughter is always good. I could use one of Sabina's suggestions and act out stories from the Crimson Pen."

The whitescale pauses as she enters the clearing and gazes at the broken stone circle. The hot springs catch her attention, as does the white tiger, enough that she sharply inhales, then holds it. Introductions do relax her, "Ah, Parven. Peace on your nest."

Somewhat more quietly she hisses behind her, "Little Fang, she is a furry Swiftclaw, avoid Parven's mouth." <draconic>

"She who dwelt here?" Cryo asks, looking around more carefully, "This is a former stronghold? For a... naiad?"

Surveying the damage takes some moments, though Braelnoir answers Syliana's initial musings with, "Nothin's fer'ever." in a matter of fact tone, "mebbe taxes." The latter had a dollop of mrith to it.

With the sight of the huge cat she blinks, reindexing the scythe where it lay against her shoulder, but, with their escort's explanation, she swivels it back again without missing a beat. "Tha's a big damn cat..." and she scrutinizes the scars with a gaze that blooms fond from studious, "Kor! She's a fighter! Hey, Parven"

She, herself is largely bereft of her old scars, though recent encounters with trolls and orcupines added a few new ones. She looks to Syliana, perhaps about to muse further on the former occupant, when Cryo's remark brings her attention that way, "Heh, we had us some good ones, there, didn't we?" Not counting the one sullied by charms. "Could probably figger out who't was if ya really wanna know? Never'magined I'd get me a good peak at these kinda fortifications. Piece a hist'ry!"

That said, she cocks an eyebrow, thinking of older times and she chimes in with, "Th'Demon an' the Dragon, mebbe?" calling back to the night, for Brae, that formed her family, "I fergot m'costume."

Sylian settles on a stone, turning her attention to Cryosanthia. "Until fairly recently, the land you stand upon was bathed in the darkness of a vampire sorceress." The wood elf gestures towards the scorched earth, "Try as we might, we cannot quite seem to do much at all about that. We believe it is where she fell. The Elder says that only the tales of time can heal some wounds. Halueth says the land forgets slowly and that creatures as short-sighted as we ought not to butt-out." Clearly a point of contention, that.

"Yet this place is breathtaking. There was once a palace not far where I sit and a family of distinction dwelt here. The ruins of it are far more substantial than what you've seen so far, and based on what little I was allowed to explore, went largely undisturbed in the battle. Whoever's handiwork this is, they didn't do it for the spoils. Regardless, it is good to celebrate life in a place that has so long been holding its breath."

Parvem makes a sort of huffing sound when Cryosanthia speaks to the little kobold. Laughter? The motions of the tail indicate amusement, as if it understood what was being said. To Braelnoir the great cat lets out a roar at the mention of being a fighter. It's quite a sound, and were the animal doing anything other than sitting where it is, would likely seem threatening. Still, it does bring silence to the forest for several minutes to follow as the rest of the wild life slowly discerns that there is no danger. The tiger's body language practically beams at the respect that the terrified local animals are showing to it. As well they should. She's no doubt eaten several of them already.

"Ah, Parven is a Korrite, or perhaps Angoron, that's a roar." Cryo says happily. When her statement earns her a look, and the tiger's obvious understanding of Draconic, a thought clicks. "Or she's exactly like Un'eth, in another's shape."

Lily sits up and looks over at the familiar name, hissing a question and receiving a "Yess, Perhapss," in response.

"Un'eth would pretend to be the Swiftclaw we borrowed from Mictlan, and spend all day guarding and listening to us." The whitescale explains. "Hopefully we can explore the ruins after then, and wow."

She looks over at the blasted earth, the potential final stand of this land's cruel ruler. "Happy she's gone then. Certainly up for celebrating her passing, wouldn't want it to overshadow Elly's wedding though, it's her time."

It's a tale Braelnoir wouldn't mind hearing, honsetly, vamps don't die easy, and sorcery makes most fights more troublesome. Must have been some epic fighting going on for whoever liberated this place from the combination. Brae's lips curl back from her teeth at the roar and she nods, clearly delighted at the response. There's not a little bit of the Merc that wouldn't mind seeing how that would play out, but she does something else, instead. She removes the spiked steel that encompasses her hand and holds it low between herself and the great cat, a statement of trust, or brazen challenge to fate. She looks back to Cryo at her remark and nods, "Yeah, time fer baggage, later. T'night we're here fer th'girls."

"When all we know is how the tale ends, we cannot be certain that it is to be celebrated or not." Sylian shakes her head, "My apologies. I tend to drift at times. And honestly, what part of the land might we find where nothing ominous ever happened? And what land has never known joy and hope?"

The great tiger rises to inspect the offered hand, its great head sniffing curiously. It seems satisfied with what it learns, licking Braelnoir's palm once before sitting once more. The tiger cocks its head at Sylian's waxing philosophical and directs a growl at her.

"I know! I know!" the elf replies quickly. "I'll just.. make sure that my mother isn't causing more trouble." And with that, she slips away to find Halueth and the others.

As soon as she's gone, the tiger snorts and shakes its head. "Always like that around Halueth," the tiger growls out.

To be continued...

<OOC> Elleandra says, "LOL, I keep referring to Lily with her old name."
<OOC> Elleandra says, "My memory is off sometimes. Sorry!"
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "I use both. It's been established that Sith'Makar sometimes have tradespeak versions of their names. like Rocky's sith'makar name is River Stone"
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "So it's 'Little Fang' in Draconic and Lily in trade"

Elleandra pages: They are going to enter the palace ruins and learn about the vampire that dwelt here for centuries! While drinking.