A Storm in the Distance

[Siorey]

₪ A Storm in the Distance

₪ 53rd of Frost, Year 120, A.o.S

---

₪ Siorey heard the eruption of the storm just like everyone else, rushing outside to see what it was, thinking the worse and ready for it too. To his surprise, it was no attack, but the thunderous arrival of a dread mist storm that threatened to devour the city. Wanting to get a closer look he set out into that direction.

Dressed in his black robes he set out to see exactly what was going on, and how close the mist had gotten to the city. He was hoping he would have something to observe but to his surprise, the city was quick to react to the incoming threat. Pillars of light filled the night sky as the light blasted through the otherworldly miasma. Siorey watched as the mist dispersed from it, setting itself outside of the city.

He could see many others gathering around too, some seeming to be interested in what would come of these dangerous mists. Some were just spectators, and some were mages and scholars eager to get some of this mist for themselves. It seemed this storm of dread mist was drawing all sorts of attention, bringing out all sorts of faces to the streets.

He didnt want to watch his people die, but if they were foolish enough to venture into the mist unprepared then their death was their own fault. Until something unique happened, he would watch the storm from his vantage point, waiting to see what this mist would bring them. part of him was hoping someone would be foolish enough to go out and touch it unprepared, which would give him something to study at least. ₪

---

Company: Himself | Thoughts: Such beautiful phenomenon | Mood: Intrigued, Relaxed

---

"Common Speech"
"Mythrasi Speech"

[Sivan]

Every blessing could become a curse. So it was with the spiritwalking of his Dratori blood, at least when the spirits started screaming. It wasn't just the sprites he had contracted into his service to keep his little home comfortable. As soon as he bade Flower stay inside and keep watch over IX — to keep them out of trouble and peril, but also in case whatever was coming affected the magic of either creature under his care — he went outside and he could hear all the screaming making the aether vibrate.

He found a place to watch and so he saw the city's magical defenses come to their aid as the dread mists bubbled out of the deep like one of Master Jacun's more noxious experiments. A storm. He murmured something like a prayer of thanks that this had not occurred at the beginning of the season when he was in transit to this bastion of safety. Here there were systems in place to protect people. Out in the wild, there would only have been more spirits and Sivan ill-equipped to soothe them and save himself. With an exhale, he began to look around his more immediate vicinity. It was only then that he realized he had been holding it. And it was only then that he marked the black-robed man standing nearby.

A Circle Mage, perhaps. It set him on edge, but most people did. He held no animosity toward them, of course. It was just that he preferred learning from someone he respected rather than swearing himself to a group whose hierarchy was more mystifying than the magic he wanted to learn. He didn't want to be, as the saying went, part of any club that would have him for a member.

"It is almost beautiful," he said, probably to himself, in Mythrasi.

[Pahoran]

A Storm in the Distance

53rd of Frost, Year 120

Pah’s night had been very eventful, and the dread mist had only been the second half of the production. The young man’s dreams had been rather dramatically interrupted when he saw a vision of a warrior battling and abomination of fire and shadow, with some flesh added for good measure of creepiness. He had left his cot in the barracks and joined his family as they had discussed this dream and its ramifications. Instead of facing the dark streets again he had retired with his family. They had all rather violently been awaken to the encroaching dread mist.

The white winged man actually walked this time back to citadel. While he had gotten some sleep, he was short enough on sleep that he felt it best to save strength by not flying at this time. Last night he had left wearing just normal clothing and even then his shirt was un tucked though it was hard to tell as right now his wings were wrapped around him like a cloak. After a bit he found himself in an area where you could watch the blasted mist much better.

The city itself was safe but it was like a large bowl have been placed over them, and outside of that something nasty had been dumped on them. Pah found himself close to two other young men who were both watching the sky. One wore the black robes of a member of the circle. Pah was aware of them, but hadn’t felt any need to join, though at this point he only had Reaving. Being in the guard he might eventually also join as part of keeping his cover. The blue eyed young man did begin to wonder though what others were thinking, and also how extensive was the dream that had awoken him. Was it just the Knights, or had others felt the call.

Pah stopped by the others and looking up at it waiting as one spoke in another language. Then Pah spoke in his blunt warrior way. “Well it’s a nuisance.” He said indicating to the cloud. His eyes studying the thing. He began to suspect that either the mages or the sky guard were going to have to study that thing. “Rather dramatic way to wake up this morning.” He said conversationally to the other two. “What do you think might have brought it?”

Pah’s questions were coxed to be folksy but they were chosen specifically to get information he was hoping to find out. His expression was serious but friendly as he looked at the two men and then back at the mist.

“Most have been forgotten. Most deserve to be forgotten. The heroes will always be remembered. The best. The best and the worst. And a few who were a bit of both.”
― George R.R. Martin, A Feast for Crows

[Arvælyn]

Arvalyn woke with a start, sitting bolt upright in an instant panic. His mind took a moment to process the din, at first unsure whether or not he'd dreamt it, but the muffled shouting he could hear through the walls suggested otherwise. He rubbed his bleary eyes, as his heart raced to the tempo of his quick, shallow breaths. He had no idea what the hour was, but he was wholly awake. He leapt to his feet and dressed for the cold in leathers and a heavy, dark green cloak the hood of which he drew over brow.

Arvalyn bolted out the door to his tiny, windowless room, and trampled down the stairs in heavy boots, perhaps a size too large for him. He paid no mind to the others ambling about downstairs, as he made directly for the front door and out onto the street, where people of all stripes, creeds and classes ambled about in confusion and fear. His eyes darted to the skies, where he was treated to strange sights he'd never chanced to see before. The mob in his immediate midst amassed like those distant clouds, but seemed as dumbstruck as he himself was. He stepped closer to a clump of strangers, his long ears perking beneath his hood as words were exchanged between them. But none of their discourse offered comfort not even the most basic information about what was happening above and around the city.

Cursing to himself in whispered Mythrasi, Arvalyn started to walk apace. Weaving through strangers, he made for the open street, where carts and wagons had paused their progress as their dazzled drivers gaped slackjawed at the magicks clearly shifting the rolling course of the ostensibly eldritch mists billowing above. His quick gait turned into a jog, as he made his way down streets, and alleys, following the sounds of voices. If he was to stand in the path of some arcane calamity, Arvalyn would prefer to be around as many people as possible when the darkness descended. He didn't know how far he'd run, nor how long it had been when he found a large crowd in an open square where the view was better. Now that his sight was not obstructed by buildings, it was only impeded when one of his statuesque Avialae neighbours sauntered into its path. As his gaze travelled down from the skies, he chanced to notice a familiar face.

"Sivan?" He knitted his brow, and continued in perfectly pronounced, albeit grammatically unsound, Mythrasi: "Know you what happens up of here?" He gestured skyward with a nod, "I am most peculiar this finding."

[Siorey]

₪ A Storm in the Distance

₪ 53rd of Frost, Year 120, A.o.S

---

₪ With the breeze of the cold upon them, the city began preparations to brace itself for whatever fallout was to come ahead. For the resident Black Robe, however, he was more so fascinated with the mist as a whole. He couldn't place where this fascination came from, but regardless he was going to explore the mist as much as he could. Dhasali had come to join him, wanting to ensure his young lord was indeed safe during this time and not taking any unwanted risks.

"Despite the evil connotation it holds, the Dread Mists is truly something to admire for their eerie beauty don't you think young kozoku?" he suggested. Siorey nodded with approval. "If I wasn't afraid of what it would do to me I would go out and explore it for myself." Siorey added, a smile forming on his face as he continued to watch as the miasma swirled and danced outside the city gates.

It was a rather peaceful and thought-provoking moment, the two of them just starring into the otherworldly mists, that was till another seemed to have slipped past Siorey's awareness, granted the young mage was absorbed in his own thoughts on what actually lies within the deadly fog. Looking at the man he could tell he was elven, even if the hints of it were subtle.

He was a pretty blonde, lean in his figure, and mostly unnoticeable, at least until now that is. Siorey could see he too didn't notice them and so he was taken by surprise in how close they had come to watch the mist. When he spoke, Siorey's eyes lit up, as he spoke mythrasi, but that brief moment of comradery quickly turned to dread. Was he connected to his father? Who was this man? Siorey began to spiral mentally, drowning himself in self-loathing at allowing his guard to be breached.

His breath began to shallow and his legs locked, he was unable to react accordingly. Then a hand came to rest on his shoulder, and Siorey's eyes locked onto Dhasali who held him close. "Relax, this one is of no threat to you, especially while I am here. I don't see him as the type to work for your father." the older male soothed, allowing Siorey to catch his breath and give him a sense of ease. Looking to the blonde after regaining his composure, he nodded in acknowledgment.

"Its more than beautiful, its absolutely divine." he retorted in their common tongue. His eyes were still locked on it as another came to join them, this one much larger than the first. The thing that caught Sio's attention before he even spoke was the pure white brilliance of his wings, the Avialae of impressive stature and build. His form reminded him of Dhasali's, given if his guardian held wings.

When he called the mists a nuisance, Siorey's expression went sour. Could this feather-brained twit not see the possibilities if one was to study the mists in their entirety? Though it was expected of those with no magical sense or talent, at least that's what Siorey always believed that is. His next statement made a slight smirk form, as it truly was not how he would have expected to be awoken from his sleep either. When the avialae questioned as to what brought about the mists Siorey's facial features softened if only a little. He was at least willing to try and understand the Dread Mists.

"To be rather honest it could be a multitude of things. The Dread Mists is a phenomenon that I don't know much about but granted that there is a lot of it settling outside the city, I plan to learn. What we can ascertain, however, is that Aetherite helps disperse it." he explained, running a finger along his cheek as he contemplated exploring the Warrens for one for himself.

He would leave the others to come to their own conclusions as he thought, but the words spoken in Mythrasi from below them caught his attention. The name given was not his, as the person seemed to be speaking to one of the other males that had come to join him on the rooftops. Looking to them, he gestured to the one below. "I take it that he's a friend of yours?" ₪

---

Company: Many many people now| Thoughts: Such beautiful phenomenon | Mood: Anxious, Intrigued, Relaxed

---

"Common Speech"
"Mythrasi Speech"
"Dhasali Speech"

[Sivan]

Pleasantly surprised to hear a civilized tongue in use, he half-smiled at the other man, though his large companion didn't seem all that friendly. Divine was one word for it, he supposed. When the Avialae appeared, he blinked. It was his first time seeing one close up, but all the words in the Common tongue were lost on him, who only kenned elvish languages as yet. He was working on it, of course, as most of Master Jacun's customers did not speak as the elves spoke, but it was slow going since he would rather be at his work than talking to people most of the time.

He tried to hold onto his vague smile, though, so as not to offend the large, armed people. It was a pleasant surprise again when the strange Arvalyn appeared.

"The dread mists," he explained to the golden boy in Mythrasi. "And the city's defenses. We are safe, I think. Kalzasi would not have survived on top of the Warrens if it wasn't prepared for the dread mists."

The man asked a question in Common who had previously spoken in Mythrasi. Fortunately, Sivan caught one word that he knew: friend.

"This is Arvalyn Val'Cithaeron, the artist. I am Sivan Len'Myren. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

To the Avialae, he offered an apologetic smile and a well-practiced phrase in Common that sometimes made people less unfriendly. "I'm sorry. I speak Common like a Zaichaeri cow." At least if he made someone laugh, they were less likely to be frustrated or even angry by his difficulties in communicating. He didn't like playing the clown for anyone, but it was too exhausting to deal with high emotion all the time.

Unnoticed at first, at least by him, four motes of light began to dance about his head — one ruddy, the other three, which stuck more together, were paler. His house sprites had followed him to investigate. At least they were no longer quite so traumatized.

[Pahoran]

A Storm in the Distance

53rd of Frost, Year 120

T he young wigged man stood among the others who had gathered to watch the must as it settled upon the world. He kept his expression friendly even as he listened as best he could among all the different languages. His blue eyes taking each and everyone of them in. As he studied them he began to suspect that he was in crowed with a bunch of mixed bloods. He himself was part Hytori which you could see in his hair but also the intensity that of his icy blue eyes as well as in the ears. Thought most people saw the height and the wings first and foremost and in some cases never saw beyond that.

The sky guard squire recognized the robes of a member of the Circle of Spells. He could see the coldness coming from the mage and the confident young warrior found it amusing though only internally. He did hear the mages praise of the mist and thought that was like an academic mage. Pah’s mother and grandmother had both been part of the mage core in the knights and each were quiet educated in the ways of magic but they also lived in the real world. They saw the sophistication but also saw the real practical problem.

This mist was going to hurt the common people most. Those in the Circle wouldn’t feel it in the same way. Theirs wouldn’t be the first meals affected if this carried on to long. It would be the regular people. They could sit their and stuffy it. Safely.

Pah listened as the handsome mage answered his question well in a round about watching. He either didn’t have the dream or he was keeping secret but Pah was willing to guess it was the former. “I wish you luck in your studies of the mists.” Pah said with all sincerity. If someone could learn how to drive these things away that would be better. He then extended his hand. “Pahoran.” He said by way of introduction.

He please tell face young man turned his attention on the young man who looked the most like a Hytori in the group. Pah understand his grandparents tongue well enough to catch the introductions.

He smiled understandingly at Sivan. “Thank you. My Mythrasi is about the same” he said in halting Mythrasian. Having been raised around Hytori relatives he had heard it often enough and understood it better then he spoke it.

“Most have been forgotten. Most deserve to be forgotten. The heroes will always be remembered. The best. The best and the worst. And a few who were a bit of both.”
― George R.R. Martin, A Feast for Crows

[/quote]

[Arvælyn]

"Dread mists?" He repeated the phrase, curiously. Understandably, he'd never heard the Mythrasi term for the phenomenon. Moreover, he'd never witnessed such an event back in Antiris. "This is... common in Kalzasi?" He wondered aloud in the same tongue, before regarding the other man of apparent Hytori lineage who spoke in Common. He was grateful for the clarification provided in his words, even if they weren't intended for Arvalyn's pointed ears.

Arvalyn, whose features very much favoured the distaff side of his pedigree and consciously downplayed his human side, inclined his head in a graceful gesture of acknowledgement to Siorey as Sivan posed his introduction.

"Charmed." He said in Common, grateful for the opportunity to revert to his first language and veer away from tells that might betray some of the mystique he worked so hard to uphold. His eyes turned, next, to another in their midst and he found himself face to chest with one of the Avialae giants who soared the skies of this strange, beautiful city. He blinked and tilted his head up to catch sight of a handsome face with piercing eyes. He started a bit and glanced down,

"Arvalyn." He offered, by way of introduction, in case he'd missed Sivan's. With that, he opened up his stance to regard the small group as a whole.

"I am relatively new to this fair city," He noted in Common, "But I take it from the gathering crowds that this isn't an everyday occurrence..." He trailed off as his golden eyes turned skyward, "Does anyone here know what it might betoken?" His Common speech was delivered with a smooth, elegant articulation that implied gentility. He drew back the hood of his green cloak, revealing golden blonde hair perhaps a shade darker than that of his eyes.

[Siorey]

Company: Many| Thoughts: It sounds sad| Mood: Curious

---

₪ As beautiful as it was Siorey knew that nothing good would come from this sudden burst of mist. Siorey began to wonder how twisted things outside of the city would become, drenched in the abnormal smoke. He also wondered how those who lived outside the walls would be affected. He was certain that there would be much to research once things cleared up, and the researcher in him was excited and anticipated the chance to research things.

Looking to the two young men, one of them introducing them as Sivan & Arvalyn, Siorey gave a slight bow to them both. His attention turned to the words of the Avialae next, smiling at the encouragement in his study of the mists. "I can't really say what brought forth the mists, hence why they are a subject of study to mages and scholars. It's rumored to be brought forth from the concentration of negative emotions, or actions, but who can really say."

He sat as he spoke that, his eyes never moving from the swirling eldritch fog. Siorey closed his eyes, listening to the way the mists sounded as if it was wailing and calling out for help. It was eerie to hear the sounds it made but made them far more fascinating. Content with the sound he would sit there and listen to them, contemplating if he truly wanted to risk getting close enough to capture some and study it.

"It's odd that for all our knowledge and magic at our disposal, there are still things we dont understand. Life's greatest pleasure is unraveling the mysteries of our world, mastering the knowledge right in front of us." he spoke to all those present, waiting to see who and what their answers would be. ₪

---

"Common Speech"
"Mythrasi Speech"
"Inner Thoughts"

[Sivan]

Pahoran got an honest smile out of Sivan. Even if his Mythrasi wasn't fluent, he appreciated the gesture, the giant Avialae putting himself at the linguistic disadvantage so Sivan needn't feel quite so out of place. He always did feel out of place, but language was only one of the reasons. For a little while, he tried to follow along with the Common, catching words here and there, but the others were fluent and spoke too swiftly for him to make proper order of what they were saying. He mouthed charmed to himself, though, hoping to ask Arvalyn about it at a later date. The elf was one person he knew, at least.

When his weary mind could no longer keep up, he focused on the mists. He ran through his memories for the names of spirits he might invoke, though he couldn't be the only summoner in Kalzasi. They must have tried that before. The Dread Mists were magical in nature, so he didn't know how powerful an air elemental it would take to blow them back into the depths of the Warrens. He didn't know how powerful a fire elemental it would take to burn them away. Perhaps a celestial spirit could banish them, or an eldritch spirit might persuade them to move in a different direction, though he was leery of the eldritch creatures and didn't know many powerful names among them that he felt comfortable treating with. He knew infernal names, of course, but he daren't speak them. That was asking for trouble.

No, it was not a problem that he alone could solve. Surely there were magi in the Circle of Spells who outstripped him in every runic or other magical endeavors he was familiar with. But perhaps if he continued to learn and grow in power, he might one day help. He had to learn his alchemy from Master Jacun, continue working on clockwork and artificing problems to help IX, and figure out how to break Flower's curse. These were smaller problems that seemed insurmountable now. But perhaps they would lead toward a greater ability to help with the even larger problems facing Kalzasi and the rest of the world.

He didn't care for most people, but he did want what was best for Ransera.

In the meantime, he opened his senses through the Rune of Semblance to meditate upon the Dread Mists and learn what he might from a prolonged study of their aetheric patterns.