Legend of Ransera

Posted: **Sat Mar 13, 2021 9:05 pm**

3rd of Glade, 121

Most might have called a twelve days ride to Kalzasi a long journey. Some might even call it insane when they'd heard of the route the Siltori had taken. But for her, it was just as enchanting as any other. New skies, new destinies, and new people. All of which made her soul soar. But all great things must come to an end, and it was in the eve of the 3rd of Glade that the High Hopes inn was bestowed with the gift of Elen Mel-Amarthan and her wondrous tales. And in this very hour, she was in the end moments of wrapping up one of her favorites.

"'I have stolen the breath of gods, ridden on the backs of dragons, and left footprints in the sky. And yet my greatest adventure was loving you." He said, looking into the eyes of his lover who held the blade of her sword against his bloodied chest. They stared at each other, each with tear filled eyes as destiny called for her sword to plunge into his heart. The only sound that rang out in the heavens that night was of her mournful screams, and to this day if you travel to the tops of the Astralar mountains, legend says you can still hear her soul wrenching cries for her lover in the winds."

The entire room held their breath silently as Elen Mel-Amarthan waved her delicate fingers at the illusory construct of the two lovers. They nearly seemed to dance as the runes on her body, like ribbons of constellations, glowed in response to her gesture. Aether flowed out from her fingertips and gently caressed the man and woman to fizzle into a scattering of stars, and then dissipate into the room like a mist. When every last spec of magic had vanished table by table patrons stood up to clap and cheer and cry at the tale they'd been witness to. Flowers and coin and trinkets were thrown upon stage as Elen bowed, pristine white hair falling over her shoulders and nearly hitting the floor before she rose up with a smile as enchanting as the story had been.

Now without the glow of aether and the distraction of a story, the crowd got a better look at the woman. Elegant, pale features reminiscent of the hytori but with the classic, lavender eyes of the siltori and moon-like skin glistened back at the crowd in front of her. Covering her slim figure was a brown corset atop a navy blue dress long sleeved dress, which although tattered where it ended at her mid thigh, seemed well made and well loved. Underneath she had a set of frost stockings and brown boots that kept out the last remnants of cold and showed off her figure rather well. A detail she quite enjoyed, even though the clothes themselves were simple in design.

As she hopped down from the stage, grabbing the midnight blue cloak from the chair in front, she began to delicately pick up the coins and flowers from the small stage.

"Well, you've certainly earned a room here tonight, Miss Amarthan." The hostess said, scratching the back of her head. "Haven't sold this much ale outside of holidays! Tell ya what, the room is yours the entire week if you keep doin' what yer doing every night. Deal?" She asked, putting a hand out with a cock of her brow and a pleased smirk.

Elen turned to face the woman with a bright grin of her own. "Deal! Though I doubt I'd need it that long. Just three nights is fine by me, and please, call me Elen."

Posted: **Mon Mar 15, 2021 1:35 pm**

So far their stay had been spent recuperating from their journey, though, two of the four brothers were already anxious to get out and explore. Burton was never one to sit still for too long anyway, and when he'd heard about some cabaret somewhere within the plaza, well he certainly just couldn't wait around to check it out for himself. Dominik was the next one to decide to head out, curious as to what supplies they could probably restock upon. Not that they were going anywhere anytime soon thankfully, Kalzasi was going to be their stop for at least a little while. Having traveled so far north from home, none of the boys didn't want to think about seeing the road again anytime soon. So that left the other two back at the High Hopes tavern, the both of them spent on drinking as they enjoyed the authenticity of the crowd.

"Okay, she's good with her illusions, but nobody's ever as good as me." Connor quipped lowly in Norvaegan as he tucked at the scarf wrapped over his shoulders, raising his mug up to drink ale from it as he watched the Siltori maiden tell the story. Having no need to wear the travel gear they arrived with, the youngest of the bunch wore a white linen shirt with a brown woolen jacket over it, along with a pair of black trousers, along with the checkered scarf loosely wrapped around his neck while he drank. The other with him, Patrick, couldn't help but lightly chuckle as his was a long-sleeved white linen shirt, over a pair of blue trousers while he too sipped and watched the rest of the story. So far it had been interesting to watch, the allure in her story rich as the rest of the crowd in the tavern beheld a mixture of enthusiasm. Some actually teared up a bit, those manly men, while many throughout the room applause and cheered for the finale.

"Guess I missed the good part then." Dominik muttered in their native tongue as he came into view from within the crowd, finding his seat to the left of Patrick as Connor sat to the right. "Have we eaten dinner yet?" The second-born inquired with a look to Patrick, who merely shrugged with a grin in turn as he watched the Siltori woman saunter her way back over to the bar. The bartender just merely averted his gaze though when she arrived, focusing on his brothers at the table now that Dominik had arrived. Before too long Burton would return as well, after however long he'd take lingering at gods knew where. Dominik wore a blue woolen jacket over a black shirt, matching with the pair of blue trousers he wore as well when he sat down. One of the barmaids working tonight, a gingerly woman, walked over to them from behind the bar with the other.

"Welcome back, you want a drink?"

"Why yes, that'd be lovely. Ale please, miss?.." The second-born requested in Common heartily with a bit of a grin to the barmaid, who chuckled at his accent when he addressed her.

"People around here call me Margo!" The ginger replied heartily as she looked to the other two, the brothers glancing her way with similar grins as well. "So just one ale? Any refills?"

"Two for me, we're expecting one more after all." Dominik responded in turn, looking to the other two expectantly as they glanced at one another.

"Yeah, I'll take one more." Connor suggested half-heartedly, sounding up for the idea as though he debated it.

"Me too." Patrick weighed in with a fold of his arms over the table, leaning onto them for support as he watched Margo with interest.

"Okay, so four rounds? I'll be back boys." She cheered to them as another chair was scooted out, Burton taking his seat to join them as he looked to have run a marathon. The eldest wore only black in comparison to the others, his shirt long-sleeved and his trousers both linen material, as he scooted in his chair to inch toward the table a couple of times. Margo shot a smile at him as he softly panted, nodding to her as the ginger strut her way back over to the bar.

"There are some fuckin amazing whores in this city." The eldest brother critiqued with his eyes rolled to the heavens, the Norvaegan rolling off his tongue enthusiastically as he looked to all of his brothers at once. "Anyways, what's for dinner?!"

"Not my cooking," Connor remarked with a glib look to Burton, "sad I know, but I'm on a hiatus after the walk up here!"

Burton nodded his head side to side a couple times as though he deliberated mentally, looking to the youngest with a bit of a grin before he said, "Good, your food started to taste bland halfway here anyways." The youngest had a look of awe as his mouth dropped the offense prevalent in his features as he looked away, leading the other three to laugh at him as Margo returned with four more mugs.

"Here we are boys!"

"Ask her to sit on your lap Con, see if she'll do it." The youngest looked to the eldest in shock, his cheeks nearly flushing as the first mug was placed in front of him.

"Give it a rest Burt, we're all gonna eat dinner here soon anyways." Patrick weighed in still speaking their native tongue, mindful not to display irritation with the eldest in front of the barmaid. As the rest of their drinks were placed Margo tucked the platter between her and her arms, and shot the group of men with a wide smile before asking the next question.

"Kay hun, anything else you all need?"

"We'll discuss dinner plans first, before we flag you or the other barmaid for assistance. Sound good?" Margo looked to Dominik heartily and nodded, sauntering off once more as all four men watched her walk away.

"Now that oughta be a fun one." Burton remarked as Dominik rolled his eyes, the other two lightly chuckling in turn, before they focused on their ale and started to drink with one another.

"Common" "Norvaegan"
"Patrick" "Burton" "Dominik" "Connor"

Posted: **Mon Mar 15, 2021 5:11 pm**

3rd of Glade, 121

The thing about being a traveler is that you pick up a few things. Coin in your pocket, dirt in the cracks of your boots, but mostly you pick up words. And when one word is mentioned enough times, it tends to stick. Such was the case with one particular word, in one particular language; 'Whores' in Novaegan. At first Elen's long ears twitched at the word. Followed by a turn of her head. Like remembering a nostalgic smell at first she couldn't quite make out what was said and scooted closer to the group of brothers as the recollection of the word hit her. Her eyes held a light glow of interest as she looked to the seemingly older man with a thick accent and a thicker ego.

Cocky men who used terms such as he had, even if she didn't understand the rest of his speech usually only wanted one thing; to feel like an alpha. Not just because they thought they were one, but because without it they crumbled to tears or raged in the fury of the position so sought after. A pity, considering he had been handsome. It didn't help that the others barely attempted to stop his crude remarks, though she could only tell by tone alone as the specifics of their conversation were lost to the language barrier. Perhaps in her youth she'd have slapped him silly, but violence never solved anything. Plus, in her experience men like that only thrived from confrontation. Once Margo had finally left, the girl was as silent as the wind as she sauntered towards the eldest of the group. White hair lit by the flickering candlelight flowed behind her like a silken river when she positioned herself just in front of him, blocking his view of the waitress. She eyed him with interest first, sizing him up in comparison to his brethren with a small smirk playing at her lips.

Lavender eyes flicked one by one to the others, resting for a moment on each of their forms without hesitation as her bold gaze struck their eyes and assessed their forms. It didn't matter that she was drastically younger than them all, as the unbridled certainty of who she was held her spine straight as her gaze unblinking. "What a pity." She let slip in her native tongue, turning then to the man in front of her with a wide smile.

"Call a spade a spade. But always call a whore a lady. Their lives are hard enough, and it never hurts to be polite." Elen recited it, tucking a strand of starlight behind her ear. With a brief chuckle to herself she slipped rather aggressively between the men, brushing up against two of them and flagging down one of the bartenders. "Patrick Rothfuss wrote that ya know. A godsend among men, but perhaps not known enough by others as most of his books were lost in the Dunes some centuries ago." She spoke as if they were listening, but truthfully cared not. Most of the time people didn't listen when she stepped off stage anyways, something she'd gotten used to in her years, and now spoke aloud mostly to herself and the stars. Even if they were hidden by the wooden roof above.

As the bartender came over she smiled wide and ordered a glass of 'Fire & Blood', which consisted mainly of raspberry puree and whiskey, plus a splash of carbonation. Upon being presented with the bright red drink, she turned back to the group of men and leaned comfortably on the man to her left, ignoring the eldest completely as she hoisted the glass to eye level. "So, what are we cheersing to tonight? Successful travel, or perhaps the wetting of cocks?" A playful smirk, devious, one that hinted at the knowledge of their desires as well as her own, played at her lips.

Sure, she had her needs too. As most people tended to, but most of the fun was not in the act itself but in the chase. The deduction, the study of people and who they are. Nearly euphoric, really, a person's story could light her loins ablaze faster than any fire could. And while their crass nature had certainly put her off, she also knew that men were not "all crotch". All people had fascinating stories, be they simplistic tales of a blissful life on a farm or gut wrenchies battles fought, won and lost. The true lust here, was that of their memoirs.

"Common"
"Silandris"

Posted: **Sun Apr 11, 2021 4:13 pm**

As the rest of the boys were subtly doing the same as their eldest brother, Burton's line of sight had been cut off from the figure of a elven maiden with eyes full of intention. In general the group raised their eyebrows at the sight of the white haired woman, curious at to who she was and her elven heritage as she seemed to be Siltori descent. While the woman took a moment to appraise Burton the oldest brother did the same with her, his lips curved into an intrigued grin as he rested his elbows on the table. "Okay, any particular reason why she's looking our way?"

"Clearly," Burton started with a hearty chuckle as he shot a glance to Connor, "we're the new guys in town and she's checking out the fresh meat boys!" Dominik's eyes rolled as Patrick only lightly smirked, mindful of the woman when his turn was next to be investigated by her. It was then she spoke something briefly in her own tongue, a language that none of them understood to be sure, but sparked intrigue within each of the four men present at the table. Moments later Common slipped from her breath as she recited some quote from something Patrick remembered reading once, though it had been a very long time ago that he'd practically forgotten it.

Moments later she inserted herself between Burton and Dominik, already flagging down another one of the barmaids as she elaborated on the details of that quote. "I know of him a little," The second-born remarked as the group looked to the woman with hair like starlight, "he was a bard who ventured around Ransera for a while. Had his own code of ethics and was said to be a legend where he came from." As he expressed this Burton proceeded to chuckle, for he quickly recognized the cold shoulder that he received from the maiden. Yet he wasn't deterred by her, not when he'd already had his fill earlier. Though he did find humor in the lesson she did reward him, as he appeared to debate weighing in on the conversation on his own; only to refrain from saying anything when one of the others spoke up.

Moments later when the barmaid came to take her order, the woman left to attend to that before returning with everything ordered, the group of men each having their own choice of beverages to drink. Dominik, who was the one the maiden leaned on, had chosen to have beer for the night, while Connor's beverage was a cider that he slowly started to sip. Burton's choice of drink was a glass of bourbon, while Patrick himself had ordered a glass of whiskey to wet his whistle in turn. When asked what they were 'cheersing' tonight though, the lot of them shared equal small mirth as the second-born son looked to her bashfully. "Well, uh, success is dependent on the individual here, I think... We've all just settled into town recently."

"Certainly haven't wetted all our cocks, that's for sure." Patrick weighed in before he shot down half of his whiskey, the glass rested back down on the table as he sighed away the burn in his throat. "Though we'll be making our rounds sooner or later." The third-born son remarked with a playful smirk shot to the woman, his eyes lingering but only for a moment before they dropped back down into his beverage. "So does our entertainer of the night have a name?" He inquired respectively as he looked to her once more, mindful of the play on words, since she technically was entertaining the whole lobby with her story earlier.

"Common" "Norvaegan"
"Patrick" "Burton" "Dominik" "Connor"

Posted: **Sun Apr 11, 2021 4:55 pm**

Curiosity flashed through briefly widened eyes as Elen turned to face the second born of the group. He was thick build, with shorter hair than the others and a strong jaw. One she might enjoy sitting on if he played his cards right, though that would come later. For what flowed through his hardened lips was an intriguing sort of statement she hadn't thought to hear by anyone outside of a library.

"Oh?" She questioned, leaning into him slightly more. White lashes batted at him like butterfly wings.

"Legend indeed. Though I had to wonder, while his books were filed under fiction, did such a man as Kvothe ever truly exist? Were his stories of the childs struggles and triumphs that of his own? There is too much honesty laced with mystery for his words to be pure fantasy. Though," She paused for a moment, recalling the first time she'd come across his works before flicking her lavender gaze back to him with a playful smirk. "I would hope they are fantasy. The creatures of his books are the types of things that set men like you whimpering home to your mothers." She pointed a finger to his nose and gently flicked it, giggling as she turned to the youngest of the bunch.

"Success is dependent on more than just the individual." She said, pushing herself onto Dominicks lap and letting her elegant legs dangle off him. She was lighter than a hummingbirds feather but there was no mistaking the entrancing weight to her presence. "Think about it, if you were to grasp hold of a rope bridge and walk across it, would your success only depend on you? What if someone at the other end set it ablaze? What if it was poorly made, and it snapped with the weight of your boot?" Elens eyes nearly glazed over. Her travels had taught her much, the first of which was never to rely soley on yourself. The other of which was how to make the world work for you. Not to excess, but to survival. To enjoyment. To pleasure. But it was clear she was a woman of question, of intrigue. Of romance. No matter the topic it seemed one question brought on another, though her own were asked in expectation that the others would not answer. Most never did, anyways, and thus her entertainment was held in the usual fumbling of confused yet enchanted strangers. 'Would they be the same?', she wondered.

"If you were to hit on me right now, would it not be up to me if I were to ride you?" She licked her lips. He was older than her, sure, but she could sense how green he was simply in the shift of his gaze as she held his. Embarrassment, a tiny hint of it behind his dark eyes. "You cannot be successful with others, is my point." The elven woman leaned back onto Dominick, smiling widely with all the purity of a saint as she took the delivered drink in hand.

"If you think of the world around you not as a thing to conquer but a person to befriend and learn from, then you will find yourself a traveled scholar."

She liked these men. They made her think, they conversed, they did not push nor stray from her advances or her rambling, which made her all the more curious what each of their buttons was. What noises they'd make when they'd cry in pain or pleasure. What made them tick? What drove them to travel, to succeed, what were their dreams and their stories?

Turning to the third youngest, Elen calmed herself from her inner questioning and raised a confident, playful brow at him. His build was average for a man of his height, at least in her wanderings, and held himself with the confidence of a man who knew outlandish words were unnecessary for attraction and flirtation. Which meant he was smart, experienced, and likely skilled under bedsheets. Amused, she let a light content sigh escape her lips as she shifted herself on the lap of Dominick. "Do I?" She questioned, bringing a finger to her lips and toying with the pinkened flesh that so contrasted her pale skin.

"Now, would it not be curious if I did not have a name? What would you call me then, if I were to say I did not? Would you call me the moon? Or perhaps the wind? Or would you make up a name, or use one that you'd heard once at another bar, maybe the name of a jilted ex lover?" Elen smirked to herself as she held the mans gaze. His question was not meant to be answered as she had, but then again, where was the fun without exploring the possibilities?

"Elen Mel-Amarthan. Traveling story teller, cartographer, and lover of all things mysterious at your service." She finally answered. "And what do you call yourselves?"

________________________________________________

"Common"
"Silandris"

Posted: **Thu May 27, 2021 1:47 pm**

As the Siltori took more notice of Dominik due to his scholarly intellect Patrick couldn't help but grin, while Connor leaned back into his chair with an elbow drapped over the back of it. With elf leaning into him the more reserved of brothers raised his eyebrows a bit, surprised to find that the woman next to him had already started to ease closer to him. Burton quietly chuckled to himself in utter amusement, his gaze on the pair as he took a swig from his mug during observation. The lady carried on with the topic of the tale she'd regarded before, in which every man at that table listened intently, though Dominik and Patrick looked more far more interested in the subject than the other two. As she finished the second-born she'd taken to looked ready to agree, though found the tip of his nose gently flicked by a slender finger as he leaned back.

When she looked toward the youngest of the bunch, Connor, with a smile the brown-eyed prankster widened his grin. Yet she still stuck close to Dominik and even opted to ease down onto his lap, the second oldest admittedly baffled enough to slightly redden within his cheeks. "Of course she sits in your lap." The oldest of the bunch teased in their native tongue, with Dominik rewarding him with a soft glare before the elf continued on the whole aspect of success. Patrick honestly had to agree with the tangent she seemed to go on, since there were so many factors that weighed in with success. As the woman got comfortable on his knee Dominik found it easy to support her, for she felt as light as a pile of pillows in his lap. The coloration in his cheeks managed to lessen a bit, but it was clear that he was still a bit more bashful in comparison to the rest.

"I'd say whoever sets the bridge on fire is an asshole." Connor remarked during the conversation as literally all three men looked to him, expectantly, as if they didn't know better when he'd expressed the thought. "What!?"

"Think we can all agree, that asshole would be you." Burton confirmed with a teasing smirk, the other two agreeing with a "Hear, hear," as they all drank from their mugs casually.

"Oh, come on! I wouldn't light a bridge on fire..." He quickly denied with an amused, if not offended, smile born for the company present. Connor then averted his gaze with a smolder in his lips, his brown eyes directed toward the bar before he looked to the company at the table once more. "Okay, m-maybe if it were Burt or Dom!" He confirmed as the other three chuckled in victory.

"Her point though, is that success is dependent on contribution." Dominik highlighted as he brought his mug up to take a sip finally. "And contribution takes more than just one wiling to carry their weight." The elf then took the conversation further by elaborating on the fact it'd be her choice also, in regards to the idea of courtship and the potential of 'fun' as it were. The comment brought all four men to raise their eyebrows once more, with Burton, Connor, and Patrick grinning to a near chuckle as Dominik looked even more red in the cheeks than before.

"Looks like it's Dom's turn." The oldest murmured with a bereft tone, which resulted in Connor stifling actual laughter as the eldest brother drank from his mug quietly.

"Fuck you." The man casually replied as he barely even looked away from the woman in his lap, admittedly tempted if not slightly nervous by her playful demeanor. Patrick was the one to lean back into his chair next as he drank from the mug, amusement in his eyes as he tilted the container a little further back than most. After a few downed gulps he exhaled a satisfied sigh through his nose, as the taste of oats and barely rolled across his tongue before the consumption.

"The world is chaos," He quickly weighed in after she expressed the idealogy of it being something to 'befriend', "the Sundering is proof enough of that."

"So, in other words, we're befriending chaos?" Connor remarked with a curious look to Patrick, his lips crooked into a playful smirk as he took a swig from his drink as well.

"Sounds about right, brother." Patrick agreed as the two older ones were the next to chuckle, Dominik being the one to gradually shake his head as he looked to the both of them fondly. When the inquiry of a name came about the elf looked to him with a raised eyebrow, to which he maintained a playful grin as he watched her in turn. There was another casual raise of the mug to drink another gulp down, as he listened to the lady skirting around the probability of not having a name. Now he knew she was playing, the corners of his lips tucked a little higher as he rested the mug back down. "Heh, a few names would come to mind." He remarked before she decided to finally award them with her actual name, which warranted intrigued expressions from all four men at the table when they heard her speak it.

"Elen Mel-Amarthan," Dominik was the one to repeat it aloud in syllables, moreover to make sure he didn't mispronounce any part of it, "doesn't that mean something with the stars?"

"Quite the profession," Patrick added as he remarked upon the fact she was a traveler, as well as a storyteller and cartographer in turn. "You must've seen some of the sights around then." At the inquiry of what they all call themselves the brothers looked to one another, Dominik being the one to voluteer as he gestured his free hand toward Burton first.

"This here is Burton, that one there," He then gestured to the brown-eyed prankster with a mischievous grin, "is our littlest brother Connor."

Burton simply took another swig from his mug with an aversion to his gaze, clearly showing minimal investment with the woman, while Connor raised the hand from the dangled arm up to wave. "Don't let these idiots fool you, I'm clearly the handsome one of the bunch."

"Yeah right." The eldest murmured after lowering his mug, which warranted a challenged stare from the youngest as Patrick chuckled.

"That one there is Patrick, and I go by the name Dominik." The second-born finished with a tilt of his head to observe the woman's features, the coloration in his cheeks still lightly lingered as he gauged the reactions of Elen.

"Common" "Norvaegan"
"Patrick" "Burton" "Dominik" "Connor"

Legend of Ransera

Cries From the Mountain (Patrick)

Cries From the Mountain (Patrick)

Re: Cries From the Mountain (Patrick)

Re: Cries From the Mountain (Patrick)

Re: Cries From the Mountain (Patrick)

Re: Cries From the Mountain (Patrick)

Re: Cries From the Mountain (Patrick)