|
|
Post by Deleted on Jul 6, 2017 10:19:59 GMT -8
Standing within the royal chambers at Víyi-jhchlíyaš—Blackspire—a slim, tall young man stood, overlooking the might and splendor of the city he ruled. Råkháš-na Kharúthmir Júlað ruled the city-state of Ashtárias. The might of the City Ever-Burning boasted something over one million souls. And Kharúthmir prayed he could keep them alive.
He shared a spirit-fetch with his many-times-great grandsire, Kharúnaroth the Great, the Firstborn, the first Júlað or Archon Ashtárias had ever known. Råkháš, the Black Dire Wolf, was accorded nearly a mythical status, and the fetch was not all Kharúthmir had in common with his ancient forebear. He had seen evidence in the paintings and carvings throughout Blackspire: he resembled Kharúnaroth in all particulars, from the smooth black hair that fell well past his hips to eyes of palest grey, the color of moonlight on drawn steel. The resemblance was disconcerting even to Kharúthmir himself when he looked upon the images of the Firstborn.
Ashtárias was unlike any other city. Not only was it immense, it also resided within the upper magma chamber of an immense volcano known as Jherei-Dûm. And the glory was not contained merely in the might of her population. The volcano was able to move. Kharúthmir was able to use the asthenosphere to move the entire volcano from one place to another, dropping it through the crust, down into the upper mantle, and navigating to its intended location. Only weeks ago, he had chosen to abandon lands where his kind were persecuted to bring the mountain to Tyran.
Although his people did poorly outside the volcano, he was not without defense. Kharúthmir was able to control the might of Jherei-Dûm in all particulars, from quakes to ashfall to even the power of a full-blown eruption. The latter, he never did save at the greatest of need; it was too damaging to the surrounding environment. Lands covered in tephra produced no food, and livestock could not live upon them. To cause Jherei-Dûm to shout her loudest could cause his own kind to starve, and even create famine throughout a world. A volcanic winter was a crop-killer.
Beyond the volcano's might, he also possessed a powerful army. His footsoldiers and landbound infantry were not generally used outside the mountain's stony skin. His air cavalry was quite another matter. The Volthår Corps rode great bull shadíri—the pterosaur-like creatures could be over one hundred feet in length, immensely powerful. The Volthåri themselves were elite troops, trained in exacting and demanding ways. They were able to operate in conditions that ranged from arctic cold to the blistering environment within the volcano—they could even function underwater if necessary. The shadíri enabled them to airdrop into otherwise-inaccessible areas of conflict. No troops were more feared—it was said that one Volthår was worth fifty normal soldiers, if not more.
Royal, regal and proud, the young Archon turned from the observation window and made his way across the broad room. He passed through double doors emblazoned with black wolves, and entered the lift that led down to the rest of Blackspire. The lift was a marvel of engineering, and beautiful as well. Translucent panels of obsidian graced its walls, and windows revealed the sights of the mighty tower as one descended downward. Once the lift reached the Grand Foyer, Kharúthmir's honor guard fell into position, accompanying him as he left his place of governance.
Transit through the City Ever-Burning could be done in a number of ways. It was pleasant to walk through the streets themselves, lined with magma canals and illuminated by fire-fountains. The brooding red glow of magma also illuminated the larger civic buildings as molten rock flowed through gutters and channels along their cornices. If one wanted to take their ease, there were immense cinder spiders that pulled two-passenger traps along the basalt-paved avenues. Kharúthmir, however, was royalty, and thus chose to use the disklike thermal floater that awaited him in its bay. Flanked by his men, he ascended the platform, stepped onto the floater and took the controls. Kharúthmir preferred to guide the floater himself, though most nobles allowed their retainers to pilot.
He lifted the floater off smoothly and navigated across the city to the flight cavern. There, his shadíra Rhíyalåni awaited. He approached the saddled beast and caressed her long, pointed muzzle. She hummed to him and pressed her crested head against his shoulder as they shared a moment of affection. Shadíri possessed an intelligence that approached that of the great apes; Rhíyalåni was not a beast of burden. She was a friend.
Kharúthmir mounted the saddle and strapped in. Around him, the dozen men that accompanied him were doing the same. Within just a few minutes, the Archon's Wing was in the sky. There was much to learn of this land in which Great Ashtárias and her people now resided. The Júlað led from the front—his great silver eyes would take it all in. He would learn this land the way lovers learned each others' flesh. One caress, one sight and one breath at a time.
Fire had come to Tyran. |
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on Jul 7, 2017 17:33:12 GMT -8
The volcano loomed in the distance. Bloody thing popped up out of nowhere and started moving of all things. They'd been keeping an eye on it for some time now. Covert operatives had been scouting in the area, giving the volcano a wide berth, but peacefully keeping watch over the comings and goings of the people who dwelled within. Reports suggested only one hostile interaction that took place only when someone came too close on wings.
When the General was given the last report, it detailed that a dwelling had been established at the base of the volcano. That perhaps it seemed to have ceased its movements and chosen a place to settle. It was time to approach them herself. It was too far to fly, but Laelia had other means of transportation. And so as she strode purposefully out of the Capital outpost, she pulled a small silver ring from her right pinkie finger and tossed it to the ground. It widened, the ground beneath it seeming to hollow and swirl with energy. She stepped within the ring and disappeared from sight.
In the distance in front of the guildhouse and in plain view, a figure appeared amidst a swirling mass of light. Armour clad, nothing about the identity of the stranger was revealed except that the armour they wore was well loved, polished, and hummed with subtle arcane energies. A black calf-length coat with brushed platinum buttons and buckles indicated an officer's rank, and a sword was belted at the figure's left hip.
When Laelia emerged from the portal, she stepped out of the ring and it shrank in size back to its original shape. She stooped to pick the ring up from the ground and replaced it on her finger before continuing her long stride towards the base of the volcano. Seemingly unphased by the heat that permeated the air around it.
Immediately, there was activity. Seven huge, armored men emerged from the guildhouse, all clad in maille so finely woven as to have the drape of fabric. They also wore masks, these men; clearly, they were not human. Their eyes had nictitating membranes, and their hands, talons. As the warrior woman approached the massive stone doors to the guildhouse, they impeded her progress, although they kept their hands away from the strange, flail-like weapons they carried. In the lead was a slender man with hair of deepest red and eyes of lambent golden-green.
"I am Válas of the Sand Raptor," he said. His rich voice was laced with the strangeness that was the Ashtóri accent—guttural on the consonants, yet with the vowels singsong, almost melodic. "Please state your business and do not approach more closely." There was courtesy in Válas' calm voice, but there was steel beneath the velvet.
Beneath her helm, Laelia smirked. Seven behemoths to greet a single intruder that stood 5'7". And yet as she reached up to remove the helm that concealed her face, she wasn't the slightest bit intimidated. The helm came free, revealing a female's face and pale platinum hair drawn back and plaited down her back. High cheekbones, a pert nose and eyes of ice blue which fixed the speaker with a steady, passive gaze. Her age, if such a thing could be guessed, was mid to late twenties, but there was an age to her eyes, an experience held within them that betrayed a weight beyond her years.
The woman halted when requested to do so, arms remaining loose at her sides. "My name is Laelia Kaliba, General of Tyran's Military." She said with cool politeness, her expression neutral. At least, until a pale brow lofted and she continued quite seriously. "I've come to investigate a volcano."
"And you have found a volcano, General." Válas' eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. He removed his mask, revealing an elegantly handsome face with high cheekbones and sensual lips. "Indeed, you have found the best volcano in any of the thousand million worlds under the eye of Great Zhånóš—but my suspicion is that you are here to do more than sightsee at Jherei-Dûm. Forgive us our caution, but one cannot be too careful these days. What might we do for you?"
Her eyes lifted to regard the mountain briefly. "Jherei-Dûm." She murmured thoughtfully. So that was what they called it. "You have the right of it. It isn't everyday that a volcano springs up from nowhere and walks on legs. If this area were more populated, it would have caused quite the fuss."
Her gaze dropped back to the Ashtóri, maintaining cool professionalism in her expression. "I am here to issue an invitation. To assure me that you don't pose a threat to the people of Tyran."
"We are not." A light shrug from the red-maned warrior. "But my assumption—and forgive me for ass-u-ming—will be that you need more than the word of a lowly Captain on that matter. Can we rest on the assurance that you will present no threat to someone with much, mich more authority than mine own?" He turned a little to one of the other males, speaking to him in the melodic harshness that was their native tongue. The warrior saluted and walked into the guildhouse. "I have just sent Táu'os in to inform said authority of what is happening."
Laelia canted her head briefly. "There is no need for forgiveness, it's a correct assumption. It is only wise to gather such information from the one in power." Said mildly before watching one of the other men walk off. Laelia was always a threat. It would be a lie to offer assurances that she wasn't. That being said, she had no hostile intent currently. "You have my word that I would not attack first."
"Nor would His Grace. I sense truth in you. Come with me, please." Like a gentleman, he offered her his arm. intending to conduct her within the monolithic and strangely-seamless edifice of basalt that was the guildhouse. The mountain had been the real wonder, but the guildhouse was itself a marvel. It was created to be able to withstand all but the most ferocious fits of pique on the part of the stratovolcano that flanked it. It was defensible, well laid-out, and it would be a nightmare to attempt to take by force. Laelia would be able to see many clear traps and features meant to aid in its defense—only the Gods knew what she didn't see. Válas guided her into a long, broad room. Many more of the strange warriors were present, but at the end of the room sat a singular figure.
His hair was sleek and smooth, the blue-black of a raven's wing and fell to his hips, knife-straight. His brilliant, deep-lashed eyes were the color of moonlight on drawn steel, palest silver. And he could be nothing other than royalty, clad as he was in rich red and deep black. His brow was graced by a circlet of blood-red metal, set with stones in every color of fire: citrine and topaz, ruby and garnet, fire opal and some strange gem that pulsed with a fire of its own, one that seemed to whirl and spin on its own. His talons were clad in black, iridescent metal, and his wide eyes were elegantly-painted with kohl. This man was striking, stunning—absolutely beautiful. As she entered, he rose and smiled and began walking down the aisle between the tables, iron-helled boots tapping upon the obsidian-tiled floor.
"General. I am Archon Kharúthmir of the Black Dire Wolf. And the mountain you have come to investigate is my home. Within it is the city-state of Ashtárias. What might we do for you? Would you like to take a meal with us as we speak?" His voice was entrancing; there was simply no way he wasn't an orator or perhaps even a bard. The resonant bass-baritone was like black velvet caressing the ear.
"Thank you." She said to Captain Válas, but did not accept his arm. Instead, she kept her helm tucked beneath her left arm and her right hand free to draw her sword if necessary. Laelia glanced about with idle curiosity, subtly filing details of the guildhouse away in the back of her mind for later review, observant to the core. Already, she was manifesting plans strategies for overcoming the various traps she could see...if necessary, that was.
As they entered the room, one might expect a single solitary woman might feel uneasy, frightened even, to be alone in closed quarters with as many warriors as were present. Yet General Kaliba neither showed, nor felt any such fear. Her eyes focused upon the Archon, taking note of his beauty, but if she felt affected by it at all, one couldn't notice. Laelia had never been one to be overly swayed by a pretty face. Of either sex. And Tyran was full of them.
She did not bow, did not acknowledge a foreign ruler with genuflection. She had not even bent the knee to the Queen of Tyran. A Kaliba did not bow, or so her father had imparted to her. It was a lesson she kept close to her at all times. Laelia did, however, acknowledge his sovereignty over this mountain with a nod, much as she would any other ruler.
"Archon Kharúthmir." She did not struggle with his name, though it was unfamiliar. "It is a pleasure to meet you." She said cooly. "You are a foreign entity in my homeland." The corner of her mouth lifted ever so briefly, though the expression didn't meet her eyes. "Anyone would be curious." As if it were obvious. "More to the point, it is my task to see to the defense of this land of Tyran that you have found yourself in. From entities within and without. As I told your Captain. I invite you to assure me that you are not a threat to Tyran. That you seek to co-exist." She politely declined the food with a raise of her hand and a shake of her head.
"We do intend to coexist. It is not my intent to harm the people of Tyran—a small bit of evidence of this is implicit in the location in which I chose to bring up the lithic crawler. I sought an area that would not damage trade, crops or centers of population. We recently had an attempt at an attack made by a large company of marauders; it happened suddenly and it was necessary to use a limited series of quakes and phreatic activity to destroy them. Another piece of proof: if any of your citizenry was negatively impacted by this activity, I will give them compensation for it." A tilt of his head and a kindly smile. His brilliant eyes warmed with it; the expression was sincere. "Beyond promises and such things as I have mentioned, General, what other assurances could I offer to set your mind at ease?"
"Of course. I have noticed your tendency to avoid extensive damage." If anything other than that had been the case, she would not be here alone. She would be here backed by an army. "I will canvass the countryside and learn if there has been any damage done to owned property."
She pursed her lips, fingers raising to stroke her chin briefly as she contemplated her answer. Where the Archon seemed so genuine with his expression, The General kept her own under lock and key. Her eyes lifted to the ceiling in contemplation, fingers drumming idly on her helm. Her gaze then returned to the Archon as she replied quite seriously. "Show me." Her chin tilted upwards, nodding as if she meant for him to show her the inside of the volcano itself. She couldn't be suggesting that. Could she?
"I am entirely willing to show you my city, but that's... complicated. It is very, very hot there—enough that I would be worried for your physical well-being. There is a way to circumvent this permanently, but it would require quite a leap of faith on your part. We are magical beings, General. And that magic is resident in our blood. The tradition of Sadóš-tål would protect you, but it would require you to ingest seven swallows of Ashtóri blood. You have my word on my crown and my people that you will be done no harm in doing so, nor would it bind you to me in any way. This is the way to make you most free in transiting to and from the City That Burns."
"That will not be necessary." She said confidently. "I am protected by magic of my own." She did not elaborate. It wasn't needed, her tone did it for her. She wasn't going to take that kind of leap of trust in such a short period of time. If ever. She didn't trust easily these days as it was.
"If my visits become a regular occurence...I will reconsider my stance." She indicated before inquiring. "How do you get there? Do you fly from outside? Do you have an entrance within this hall?"
"General... it is more than physical temperature. The mountain actively resists intrusion by outsiders. Your rank would most certainly indicate that you have access to powerful magic indeed, and I am willing to allow you to try it. But if you find yourself made unwell by the heat, would you be willing to try to trust me? I would not see you at risk. As for how we enter and leave the mountain... that is a thing I am not yet willing to share. I will gate us there and back."
A faint smile curved her mouth. Ever so faint. "I'll let you know if I begin to feel ill." Then nodded as he declined to share the entryway to the volcano with her just yet. That was good. It meant he wasn't a fool. She couldn't respect a fool.
"I will bring you myself." That warm smile again. "Do not be alarmed. I am going to draw my blooding-blade and shed blood to cast a gate." And the Archon drew the fire obsidian blade he wore upon his inner wrist, dragging it over his palm and shedding deep red blood, so dark it was nearly black. A portal in the shape of the pupil of a cat's eye opened, and there was an odor of hot stone and volcanic gases. And the Archon escorted the General through.... |
|
Administrators
gender: Female
status: offline
Race: Arisalonian Human
Gender: Female
Age: Appears in early twenties
Clan/Family: Kaliba
|
Post by Laelia Kaliba on Jul 9, 2017 12:18:03 GMT -8
The Archon brought General Laelia Kaliba to his homeland. The impression a new arrival gained when they first saw Ashtárias the Red was one of majesty... and of fire. Because of the magma channels that tracked along the civic buildings and the canals of molten rock, the city seemed to be ablaze yet never consumed. The city was arranged in a curved triangle with burning rivers of molten stone on three sides. The heat was terrific, easily 70 C. And the place was immense. It was a metropolis of just over one million souls. This certainly was an experience she'd never had before, that was certain. She was impressed, though the expression was muted as were most of her expressions. The red haze emitted by the lava flows flickered against the icy blue of her eyes, reflecting flame within them. Despite the heat, Laelia seemed quite comfortable. She could withstand heat that could melt sand into glass, had stood within the center of a supernova of her own making and survived. It was likely that such a feat was accomplished by magic, if the subtle hum of magic coming off of her blade was any indication. A mage would sense it for certain. The red light of the cavern was harsh on her eyes, however, and she raised her hand to shield her vision while her eyes adjusted to the intense glare. "It possesses a certain dark beauty to it. What is it called?" "This is Ashtárias." Kharúthmir smiled. "Across there is my palace. It's called Blackspire. Over there are the Firefalls, and just above that is the Black Promontory. The dark grey temple to the left of the Blackspire is the Komatiite Cloister and just behind it is the Basalt Abbey. If you look down that avenue, that is the Volthåri training facility. And down there is the Great Bazaar." Welcome, General." Her eyes flickered to each place he pointed out, filing the
locations into her memory as if she were composing a map in her mind. The
architecture was lovely, often seeming crystalline in some places. Laelia's
attention turned with mild curiosity towards the cloister and the abbey.
"What deity do they honour?" She inquired. "And what is a
Volthari?"<o:p></o:p> |
|
Administrators
gender: Female
status: offline
Race: Arisalonian Human
Gender: Female
Age: Appears in early twenties
Clan/Family: Kaliba
|
Post by Laelia Kaliba on Jul 9, 2017 12:39:33 GMT -8
"A Volthår is an elite soldier. They are trained in a multidisciplinary manner—the Volthår Corps is the most effective in dealing with matters outside the skin of the mountain. Most of my people would not be able to tolerate being outside the volcano for long, you see, but we do need means to defend ourselves. Not even ten minutes ago, someone opened a hellmouth up close to my foothills—my cousin led his attack force to head them off. And the Temples serve the Great Primal Flame, Zhånóš, the Lord of Fire and Ash. Sun and volcano, the First Fire that led to creation... that is who we revere."
"I see. And so these Volthar are capable of existing outside of the volcano for extended periods of time." She surmised. Elite soldiers. Reminded her of the Kaliban's strict expectations. "Are there many of them?" Laelia inquired with mild curiosity, the same as all of her other questions. Seeming interested, but not too interested. "A hellmouth." Her brow furrowed only slightly and then she shrugged. "Your sudden presence has elicited curiosity, no doubt. I wouldn't be concerned." The only denizen of hell she would currently be concerned about was locked away. "So you revere a fire deity." She mused. "Though I'm sure you've come to realize Tyran's deities work differently."
"I am aware. But we are born of the Primal Flame." His smile was still warm. "And there are large numbers of Volthåri, yes. It's a matter of my national security not to share the exact sum, but suffice to say that we would be able to defend ourselves more than adequately, if such became necessary. I know we have caused many to be curious, and we are obviously not unwilling to answer some questions." The Archon spotted a small stone and bent to pick it up. He leaned slightly closer to catch the exact hue of the General's eyes.
"I understand the importance of honouring where one's origins lie." She murmured, arms folding over her chest. It seemed thus far that the Ashtori were non-hostile. There had been no ambush, no threats, and from what she could see, they were primarily concerned with the safety of their volcano, Jherei'Dum. "For that, I am grateful." She inclined her head slightly in acknowledgement. Though words only went so far, it was a good start to convincing Laelia they were not a notablethreat to Tyran as a whole.
|
|
Administrators
gender: Female
status: offline
Race: Arisalonian Human
Gender: Female
Age: Appears in early twenties
Clan/Family: Kaliba
|
Post by Laelia Kaliba on Jul 9, 2017 12:40:11 GMT -8
He covered the stone with his long-fingered, taloned hands and closed his eyes for a moment. There was a slight spike in heat, and an odor of ozone. He opened his hands, and the stone was cherry-red, though was beginning to cool. "Am I correct in thinking you have other reasons to want to know more about my city and my people?"
Laelia's gaze flickered briefly to the stone in his hand, observing what he did with it. She didn't mention it, however, instead paying more attention to the question he asked of her. A pale brow lofted in question as she cast him a sideways glance. She held her cards close to her chest, this one. "Oh? What other reason could I possibly have?"
"To come to a place like this one alone could mean one of many things. Mere curiosity would not suffice for a military commander of your rank—your people depend too heavily upon you. And, if you intended to be hostile, that also would mean you would not come to me alone, and come to Ashtárias as you have done." He blew on the stone to cool it a little. It was now a glorious blue opal. Smiling, he offered it to her. "So you are seeking tribute, or an alliance. There are whispers throughout the land, General. War approaches. You asked about the Volthår Corps. If I were to hazard a guess, I would surmise that you wish to ask my aid."
"It could mean a great many things." Laelia could be confirming the reports offered by her scouts. She could be scouting more intently, assessing strengths and weaknesses with her own eyes. And now she had seen the inside of the guildhouse and the volcano. Simply by asking. And yet, her intentions were not deceptive in nature, though it was try, she was trying to asses their military capabilities. "The Tyran Army...is not beholden to any singular nation. It is a compilation of forces from numerous peoples, all trained under one banner to defend the people of Tyran. As General, I decide where we go. Where the need is greatest. Which causes are worthy. I offer you the same as I have offered other nations and Houses. The chance to contribute materials and fighters to the Army that will stand between Tyran and its enemies." Laelia glanced down at the stone he offered to her and furrowed her brow. "What is this for?" She inquired
|
|
Administrators
gender: Female
status: offline
Race: Arisalonian Human
Gender: Female
Age: Appears in early twenties
Clan/Family: Kaliba
|
Post by Laelia Kaliba on Jul 9, 2017 12:40:59 GMT -8
"So this is a coalition of forces." A slight nod. "And the stone? Because I want you to come away with something pretty, an item to remind you of your visit. I came to the temple of one of the resident deities here. The Temple of Light is a comforting place, and I felt welcome there. Of course, I came away with a lot of glitter all over me!" A chuckle. "My ground troops are more intended to defend the city proper. I am, however, willing to offer six wings of fifty-two Volthåri apiece."
Laelia nodded. "Of sorts, yes." said in agreement. She offered the stone and then the Archon a dubious look. "Something...pretty?" She echoed, the sound followed by a smirk. "I am not the type of woman to place much value in pretty trinkets, Archon." The opal was beautiful, truly. But Laelia's tastes were far more functional. "I will, however, place it in the Army coffers. You have my thanks. For the offer of forces as well. I trust they will mingle with the griffons and drakes well enough."
"Shadíri are as intelligent as the great apes. Volthår mounts are particularly well-disciplined. If you want, we can walk through my royal shadíra-cots so you can gain a closer look at them. If your drakes are what I think they are, they might work well with shadíri. Griffons can be a little hit or miss. The size differences, you know. We also train cinder spiders—they are used by our ground cavalry. Horses react to us the same way they react to any other large carnivore, you see. And if the stone will be placed in your coffers, perhaps there is something else I can gift to you."
"The griffons are well trained. Each situation calls for different strategy. Each animal has its particular use." She said with a nod. "I would be interested in seeing them, however. As though I may regret it, I find myself curious at the thought of cinder spiders." "There is no need for gifts, Archon. We've only just met. We're hardly on gift-giving terms." The corner of her mouth lifted ever so slightly.
|
|
Administrators
gender: Female
status: offline
Race: Arisalonian Human
Gender: Female
Age: Appears in early twenties
Clan/Family: Kaliba
|
Post by Laelia Kaliba on Jul 9, 2017 12:41:40 GMT -8
"There is never really a need for a gift, other than to see another happy. At least... that is my motivation in giving one." He walked toward a recess in the floor near where they stood. "And this is a thermal floater. We often use them to get around the city quickly. The spider quarries are closest, so we will stop there first." The spider quarries were sheer cliff faces festooned with coal-black webbing. Cinder spiders could be easily as large as a draft horse, though the most usual size would be somewhat smaller. "As you can see, they are able to move up and down along vertical surfaces, as well as jump great distances. This webbing is very good as a burn dressing, as well. And it makes a good fabric, nearly as good as some forms of armor."
Laelia accompanied the Archon on the thermal floater, enjoying the view of the city this offered, floating high above. "This is rather convenient." She mused, wondering if something similar could be adapted magically for New Arisalon. The cinder spiders were fascinating. "I can see how they would be particularly useful in this terrain. And the spidersilk they produce...valuable. They would not be my preferred mount. But I can imagine the applications of their use."
"Perhaps we can do some trade. One egg sac would be enough to establish a quarry if you see an application for a number of them. And these are the shadíra cots. We're in luck; we have some chicks, so you can see the size when they hatch." He grinned. "And maybe even hold one, if the cow is amenable and likes you." He brought her into the cot; these beasts ranged froom small, swift individuals meant for work as couriers all the way to one huge bull that had to be at least 150' from his nose to the end of his tail fluke. He brought her to the nesting sands. A dove-grey cow shadíra lay shredding pieces of meat to feed to her chicks. One of them, a dark umber color, flapped her way over to fetch up against Laelia's boots. It looked up and went 'Skreeb!' "You've been Skreebed, General! The humanity!" A silver laugh.
|
|
Administrators
gender: Female
status: offline
Race: Arisalonian Human
Gender: Female
Age: Appears in early twenties
Clan/Family: Kaliba
|
Post by Laelia Kaliba on Jul 9, 2017 12:42:12 GMT -8
"I'll keep that in mind." Laelia replied and continued on to the shadira cots with the Archon. Her gaze lowered to the baby shadira as it hop-flapped over to her in the sands, nuzzling up against her boots. Leather and metal. Perhaps it was attracted to the scent of leather. It then let out the most peculiar sound, which elicited a short chuckle from the General. "So it seems. Though I'd be more inclined to worry if I know what 'Skreeb' meant."
"I think she just wants attention." He picked the cat-sized creature up. It was covered with down and the leather of its wingsails was a rich chocolate color. "This one is.. a cow. Would you like to hold her?" Meanwhile, the chick was giving Laelia an intent sniffing-over.
"It the cow won't become irritated." Laelia replied, extending a hand towards the cat-sized creature to gauge the chick's interest in her. She had to admit...she had a weakness for the flying creatures.
The mother seemed comfortable with Laelia handling the chick. And when she took it into her hands,. the little creature tucked its wedge under one wing and coiled its tail around its haunch. "She's falling asleep! That's adorable. Shadíri with a temperament like this are not usually used in a military capacity. This one is probably going to make someone a better companion and mount for pleasure riding. All have their uses. That larger grey one is more like what we look for to train for the Volthår Corps." He settled on a crate, idly petting the crest of another shadíra chick that climbed up beside him. "Are there other things you would want to see or know? If you want, we can take a meal down in the Great Bazaar." A grin. "Who knows—maybe I can find or make something for you that you would keep for yourself."
Looking down at the shadira in her arms, she swayed lightly back and forth much like one would do with an infant. Once it was asleep and the offer of a meal was given, Laelia lightly put the shadira chick down to slumber peacefully and stood back up. "Is Ashtori cuisine palatable for humans?" She asked. It was quite obvious that the Ashtori were humanoid, but more carnivorous in appearance.
"There are places I can bring you where you won't find the spice overwhelming. Let's take a spider carriage this time, so you can see Ashtárias from the street." The two-person traps drawn by the spiders moved very smoothly and a little more quickly than trap-and-pony would. Kharúthmir drove them to the Bazaar, which was a nearly-dizzying array of goods, sights and sounds. One thing was clear: these people loved their Archon. There was a lot of cheering and vying for his attention. Finally, they arrived at a quiet inn. The folk here ate while reclining beside low tables. Most of the food was indeed meat-based, but it would be easy enough to get a very good meal indeed.
|
|
|
welcome
Tyrannights is a free-form play by post RPG with a medieval fantasy setting. It was formed in 1997 by Shawn and Doreen with many different owners and versions over the years. Its current version is Tyran: Tales of Legends owned by Sinead and Laelia.
Tales of Legends is world and character building focused with and original setting. There are no forced character aps or registration, so come stay in Wendy's Tavern for a drink. Have you character serve one of two Tyran gods. Rule a city of your own, or serve Tyran's Queen. There are limitless possibilities for your character's story... so what are you waiting for?
Tyran is PG 13 and LGBT friendly.
site updates (dd/mm/yy)
13/11/18 - THERE ARE NEW GODS! please check out the temple folders for more details!
29/11/18 - Both temples have staff positions open for those interested in joining the temples
29/11/18 - We are currently editing our achievements and adding more! Please be patient as we fix this.
current events
TBA
Time: Ongoing
Where: TBA
Host: TBA
staff
|
|
|
|
|
|
---
Amika
x_Tempest_D
SW_Hotaru_SD
|
---
(Username may varry)
Joshua
Shelzi
Storyteller/Trent
Wulv
|
credits
Tyrannights/VampPub was originally created by Shawn and Doreen. Tyran: Tales of Legends remake is currently owned by Sinead and Laelia Content is copyrighted to Tyran unless otherwise stated. The skin is created by Wolf of Gangnam Style. The board and thread remodel is by Kagney.
Banner Image was created by Karnage82.
|
