As the Crow Flies (Moon)

The Jewel of the Northlands

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Merilgo
Posts: 9
Joined: Wed Dec 21, 2022 7:32 pm
Location: Kalzasi
Character Sheet: viewtopic.php?t=4011

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Snow coated every surface imaginable, varying from a perfect untouched white to a soggy and sad dirt grey. It’s a month into being in Kalzasi, and Merilgo had yet to make any profit. Their wallet was feeling much lighter than they were comfortable with, and it seemed their indulgent tendencies were going to get them in trouble. Black eyes shifted down from the winding city streets to the fresh sizzling fried potato on a stick they had just picked up from a vendor. They took another bite, savoring the flavor. It had been coated with a sticky savory-sweet honey sauce and doused with onions. Fragrant, filling, and delicious.

Their mother always had clients through the kingdoms and the free cities, and all these clients wanted rare, expensive, and hard-to-find things. Not impossible or dangerous to find, but difficult enough to hire their caravan. Merilgo’s mother could waltz into a Bazaar with the most expensive wine a commoner would be willing to purchase and sell out by sunset. Once their brother and sister were on the scene, there was hardly someone who didn’t want to chat with the adventuring tree-people while they selected from foreign spices and dried goods, expensive spirits, and unique magical trinkets. The grey-horned thing was hardly noticed taking bank notes and balancing the books. Merilgo knew that if they were to start their own business, they could not manage the same promise as their family caravan. It was a huge undertaking made possible by the large family and eclectic and migratory ways of their people. The still-skinned-city-dwellers hardly had the same resources as a Fae’ethalan. And now… neither did Merilgo.

Frowning and furrowing their brow as they tossed the stick they were eating off of, Merilgo intended to spend the day exploring again, further procrastinating their need to find financial stability. They were not yet inclined to chum up to a wealthy noble who might want their wares, since the Kalzasi people were anything but what they had expected. Perhaps it was because of the half-Fae’s obviously Lysanrin face, or perhaps the Kalzasi people were simply rude all around, but Merilgo was offended regardless. They found themselves navigating toward the edges of the city today. The streets began to flatten from the mountains here, leading into gently sloped farmlands bordered by the indomitable forest beside them. There was a smattering of houses with lumpy white covered gardens on the edge of the city here, interrupted by small clearings of unclaimed lands with scattered trees, not quite thick enough to be forest yet. It was the most privacy one can get while still remaining within the protection of the city. These cottages likely cost a fortune.

What exactly they wished to find out here, they were unsure. Fewer people, Ideally. They had a borrowed scroll of Mythrasi songs they could practice translating, but it was awfully cold to come outside just to sing a song or two. It wasn’t as if Kalzasi had any birds that would appreciate the off-tune merchant, they had all flown south by now.

It was a foolish hope that Merilgo might spot a bird at all, truly. But that didn’t mean the lands around Kalzasi were not stunning in their own way. Merilgo had begun walking very slowly, enjoying the soft crunch of frozen snow beneath their heeled boots, a soft hum on their lips as they admired the rainbows cast into the snow by interesting shaped icicles. Black eyes were glued to the tree branches, looking for any sign of life, curious about what winter creatures would stay in such a place. It wasn’t until they heard a sharp THWACK that they froze. Instinctively holding their breath to prevent the cloud of heat from escaping their lungs. Not that their dark attire in the bright winter snow would be missed.

Black eyes shot toward where they thought the sound had been, completely unsure what it was. Perhaps just a poorly timed dead branch giving to the weight of the snow. Perhaps something worse.

Merilgo’s heart sunk as the possibilities raced through their mind, freezing them in place for a tick too long. But it was not long before they felt eyes on them and their sharp corvid vision could find the source of the sound. By the time Merilgo’s eyes landed on the fellow crow, they were worried he had seen them too. This was most definitely not a normal crow. A sheepish grin flitted across their face in reaction, and Merilgo raised a hand to a small wave, stealth was hardly an option anyhow.

“Hello stranger,” Merilgo called out, assuming they had been spotted by now. Surely this was a fellow Animus mage… but what an interesting body part to choose to take on. The eyes, they understood, but the beak and ears that made everything sound shrill and too close? Did this mage not wish to retain the ability to speak? Merilgo held their tongue, watching for a reaction to their greeting, squinting through the scattering of trees and carefully stepping forward to be seen better. The bashfulness had left their face by now, fully replaced with bright-eyed curiosity and the hopeful stance of the eternally curious. As they neared, another wave of fear hit the half-Fae as they realized this crow-man was holding a weapon… or perhaps his arm was the weapon? It was difficult to tell from far away.

“Whatever the offense, I am sure the tree is sorry by now.” Merilgo spoke at a normal volume now that they could see the person better. Merilgo gave a pointed look to the weapon, offering a simple line in common with a mellow tone that seemed to blend a variety of southern accents, not calling any one city to prominence. The traveler had met so many different types of people, but not one who looked like this before. Short of a threat to their life, the half-Fae would be foolish to not find a way to converse with this man or creature. Still keenly aware of the weapon and not confident enough in their own rapier to think of drawing it in defense, Merilgo let their hands rest at their sides, as unthreatening as possible. They paused a few meters from the crow-person, clearly intent on conversation, a thousand questions pulling at their tongue as their obsidian eyes took the scene in.

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word count: 1120
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Moon Jae-Seong
Posts: 121
Joined: Tue Sep 13, 2022 7:17 pm
Character Sheet: viewtopic.php?t=3722
Character Secrets: viewtopic.php?t=3802

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As the vibrancy of Ash bled away into the creeping cold of early Frost, Jae-Seong had been dragged into no shortage of things he wished to have no part of. Nobility by blood, he'd been party to the talks held within the city-state's heart regarding Kalzasi's next successor. For him, this was exhausting and certainly not how he'd prefer to spend his time. And while he held great fondness for those that noble blood bound him to, their company was…grating on him a bit, of late.

It wasn't that they had done anything, no, not really. It was just that they would constantly talk. Politics were what interested the swordsman the very least and it had felt akin to pulling teeth to get his kinsmen to speak of ought else for the past few weeks. As a result, he had taken to spending far less time at home, though never straying too far from the city’s outskirts and always retiring in the only place he'd ever considered to be a home.

On this day, he rose and took his leave with the sun. Now, only his family's serving staff was awake. Though Frost had just begun, the air outside was brisk; biting gusts of icy air stung his face as he made his way away from the upper echelons of Kalzasi. Everything outside was frost kissed or blanketed in a thin sheet of white, and despite the whipping wind and falling snow, everything else looked timeless, untouched and frozen in place, devoid of life and color.

Being outside in weather like this was none too friendly for those of mammalian blood, and though Jae-Seong had spent many nights in the wilderness in every season, there was no need to willfully subject himself to this cold discomfort. Hoping that the wind would relax and clouds clear, the mercenary spent the morning sequestered behind an endless maze of shelves, reading in one of his most beloved of the city's libraries. By the time the sun reached its highest point in the sky, however, the wind had calmed to near nothing and the temperature had risen enough to be far more bearable.

After he'd left and trekked far enough into the outskirts of the city, the almost human-looking man shifted shape. If not for the small horns he possessed and the altogether strange coloration of his arm, he would look perfectly mundane. These things, however, gave no indication of what he really was: Rathari– a sort of werebeast. Where once was smooth skin and features of elegant beauty quickly became the visage of a crow; and though his feathers were abyssal on the surface, light would bounce prismatic color off each, creating an almost magical veil to his appearance.

Moving targets were much preferred to wood, but unless he wanted to be particularly cruel, such things would be hard to find on demand. As such, Jae-Seong would have to make use of what was available: trees. He'd wanted to make sure his form and technique hadn't wavered in addition to maintaining agility and strength. The crop of trees he'd chosen to practice within was one he'd been coming to for days and, for this whole period of time, he had been left alone.

That being the case, he did not expect to hear anyone's voice after the impact of one of his strikes. He did not startle, rather, he turned in the direction of the speaker and tossed one of his magicked blades above him, ready to send it piercing through the air and into whomever it was should the mystery figure prove hostile…or particularly annoying. For now, at least, it would stay still.

The creature that stood before him was not a face he recognized. An odd mix of blood, they must be, too– resembling Lysanrin, yet…not quite. The crow cocked his head to the side inquisitively; the mechanical motion was as uncanny as the stare of the bird's beady eyes. His expression was unreadable. The stranger had approached him with words somewhat cavalier given the circumstances, but Jae-Seong was not one to punish curiosity.

He was used to being wordless in this form and simply refusing to speak to those he came across in any fashion. Most could tell he was a mercenary from his attire, and because he could still understand others, it actually wasn't terribly difficult to find and undertake work in this shape even without speaking. Unfortunately, however, the person who had approached him appeared to only possess the intent to converse with him which was, in several respects, unfortunate.

After a brief beat of silence, likely to feel painfully long if the stranger had any anxiety or nerves, the Rathari blinked and then feathers began to recede. The act of changing shape was always somewhat disturbing to look at should one not have seen it before as beak became bone, bone moved and reformed, and skin and muscle then shifted in turn. Jae-Seong still wore an expression that was blank, though it was notably austere and nearly as cold as the day's weather.

"My, what audacity it takes to approach an armed stranger with…jokes." His tone was deadpan at first but warmed towards his last word and then his expression broke and he laughed. "The confidence or…perhaps foolishness? Is almost admirable." He spoke in a way that was both cool and calm, yet his words carried undercurrents of his own curiosity.

"What is it you seek, then, stranger?"
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'Thoughts'
"SynskritTongue/Speech"
"Common Tongue/Speech"
"Inandoth Tongue/Speech"
word count: 1042
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Hector
Posts: 355
Joined: Thu Jun 02, 2022 4:19 pm
Location: Gel'Grandel, Gelerian Imperium
Character Sheet: viewtopic.php?t=3187
Plot Notes: viewtopic.php?t=3339
Character Secrets: viewtopic.php?t=3335

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Moon Jae-Seong

Lore: 8 lores, delivered by whispers on the wind
Points: 10, skill debt
Injuries/Ailments: n/a
Loot: None

Merilgo

Lore: 8 lores, delivered by whispers on the wind
Points: 10, no magic
Injuries/Ailments: n/a
Loot: None

Notes: For clarification, I (Hector) am the same writer as Moon.

On the off chance you ever return, I'd love to start up another thread with you! Your writing is lovely, but I do tend to close threads out when they reach roughly 6 months in age.
word count: 133
"And as you lay down your grace to me,
the skies begin to bleach red,
and the stars begin to fall,
I feel myself changing,
as my world starts dividing–"
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