Aria
Wyvern Rider
Chewy's Caretaker
Posts: 190
Bern Fame: 1
Profession: Wyvern Rider
Affinity: Anima
Profile: Aria's Profile
OoC Alias: Twilightfairy
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Post by Aria on Aug 3, 2020 19:22:13 GMT -6
"Then I shall strive to make the best tea I can with what I've got. It's the least I can do for feeding me and my hungry wyvern." Aria made a small head motion towards Chewy. Who was gleefully gnawing at what was once a proud deer's thigh bone. Aria didn't want to pry to much into it. But, this man didn't look like the average hermit. He.. seemed to be a bit too well kept. Maybe a rouge scholar? Or a rouge military mage? She was glad Bern won their independence from Ilia. But, she also knew that war had no real winners. Even if one side 'wins' a war.. that victory.. is hollow. There is no replacement for the lives lost in the process. And not just the loss of a physical life.. war displaces people. Whole families can be lost. Entire villages put to the torch. Lords can do what they want to their people. Use them as living shields... war is hell Aria. I want you to remember this. She could hear the words in her head. Her eldest brother gave her that lecture a long time ago.
"My family raises wyverns for military use. Have an older brother who currently serves." She wanted to keep that bit short. She was proud of her family heritage and all. But, she knew there could be those who could use that information against her.
"You served?" She decided to ask. By now the tea was piping hot. And Aria could smell the strong piney scent coming from the kettle.
"Mug please."
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Ascher
Mage
Posts: 45
Profession: Former Rebel
Affiliation: People of Bern
Affinity: Wind
Profile: Ascher
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Post by Ascher on Aug 4, 2020 8:26:39 GMT -6
The man obligingly passed over his cup of beaten tin, smiling softly to himself at the prospect of enjoying a mug of tea once again. "Aye," he affirmed softly. "I am an Academy graduate, you see. Four years' enlistment, and the duration of the occupation." The scarred gentleman snorted in a light, self-deprecating fashion - eying the wyvern with a curious expression. A family that trains military wyverns... "I assumed that wyverns had to be bred somewhere - they couldn't all be captured and tamed. I always thought there was a fort or something, off in the mountains, with soldiers who specialized in such things."
As Ascher returned to his seat, he plucked another small strip of venison - taking advantage of the opportunity to reflect on his situation, should the wyvern rider take exception. A military tie was... not necessarily a bad thing. The woman seemed to young for her brother to have fought in the Bandit War - such a man would need to be of Ascher's own age, at the least. He, himself, had barely reached his majority when the skirmishes with Sacae had first begun. After a moment, the man briefly shook his head. "Forgive my curiosity, miss. I imagine such things are probably not spoken of to outsiders. Suffice it to say... that I am thankful for your brother's service, and that of your family. Ashera knows that the lads atop your wyverns kept me whole, more than once."
The man watched in silence as the young woman prepared the tea, rising to accept the mug when she had finished.
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Aria
Wyvern Rider
Chewy's Caretaker
Posts: 190
Bern Fame: 1
Profession: Wyvern Rider
Affinity: Anima
Profile: Aria's Profile
OoC Alias: Twilightfairy
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Post by Aria on Aug 9, 2020 7:09:01 GMT -6
"Ah. That explains a lot. Lots of people back home do the four year enlistment. Though not always for magic." Aria spoke as she grabbed the mug. She almost forgotten that the Bernese Military offers a program like that to those who were more magically gifted. Her other brother almost joined their ranks. But inevitably turned it down when he discovered the life of a clergyman. He was able to stay out of the war for the most part. But sometimes he would write home with tales of the people he had met and of whom he had healed. All of it in the name of St. Elimine.
"The nation's supply of wild wyvern populations would have gone extinct if that were the case. Though the breeding program isn't perfect. The ranch I'm from borders the wilds and sometimes roaming males sneak in. They mate with our females and we don't know about it until the babies come outta their shells. Ruins what wyvern type we had planned to give the military that season." She spoke as she put the mug down on the ground. She reached in her bag until she found a peice of cloth. Wrapped inside that cloth were large palm leaves and inside that were semi intact little pucks of honey.
"Honey drops." She explained and plopped one into each mug. Then she wrapped the contents back up and put them in her bag.
"The wild wyvern getting thrown into the mix isn't all bad though. The diversity endures we get healthier wyverns. And sometimes we get new traits that we like. Chew size and spikes are an example. She bigger than the average wyvern. And those spikes.. while hazardous to my health.. ensure that she has some protection against another wyvern that might grab her from the air." She spoke as she poured the tea into both mugs. Then carefully handed the mug towards her host.
"Though the wyvern industry has some competition now. Pegsai usually keep to themselves in Ilia. But now we've got Griffins coming in from the Vinland. Supposedly they are wild caught but they are more agile than a wyvern. Haven't seen one for myself though." She explained. Then stopped to take a small sip of her tea. It was a nice mix of flavors. The heat helped to warm up her insides but the taste kept her mind and pallet refreshed. She put the mug down and then took another bite of jerky.
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Ascher
Mage
Posts: 45
Profession: Former Rebel
Affiliation: People of Bern
Affinity: Wind
Profile: Ascher
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Post by Ascher on Aug 9, 2020 15:00:20 GMT -6
"My thanks, lass." The scarred mage returned to his seat with an accompanying nod of gratitude, cupping the now-full mug with both hands - an effort to moderate the chill that had begun to come over the area. One of his old instructors had a theory of some kind that involved the mountains and a nearby lake, but the sage had completely lost his students when he endeavored to explain with the use of more maps than any reasonable person had a use for. Ascher tilted his head ever-so-slightly to the side as he tasted the tea, a faint smile flickering over his features as he savored the sweetness that lingered upon his tongue.
It seemed to him that the young woman vastly preferred the subject of wyvern breeding - and rearing, given that she referenced her own wyvern as an example - to the more martial subjects which talk of the military might have otherwise led to. For his part, the long-haired man had no objection to the transition. His memories of the Bandit War were not particularly good ones, nor was he likely to be looked upon favorably by those who simply saw the conflict as a power grab by the assorted bands of raiders that frequented Bern's mountainous terrain.
As the wyvern rider delved into greater detail, the mage could not help but furrow his brow. "It seems I have been less aware of goings-on in the world than I originally thought," he remarked reflectively. "I confess, I am ignorant even of there being different types of wyverns - though I suppose they likely have sub-species like the majority of animals." The long-haired man briefly shook his head, as if to clear it. "Nor am I familiar with 'griffins' or 'Vinland'. Pegasi, on the other hand, I am far more familiar with than I would like." He tapped the hip-case which contained his tome in a meaningful fashion.
"If you would be so kind as to enlighten me, I would..." Ascher fell abruptly silent as a brisk snapping sound echoed from the far side of the fire pit - off at an angle to where both mage and courier sat, conversing. It was a brittle sound, distinct from the soft crackle of the branches which formed the foundation of the cookfire-turned-campfire. The man squinted into the growing darkness in the general direction of the sound which had startled him so badly. "...be interested to hear..."
It was entirely possible that he was simply jumpy. Bad experiences during the occupation, perhaps, or during his time with the military? Regardless, the evening light had faded to a sufficient extent for dusk's cloak of gloom to have covered the forest and its inhabitants. This was not to say that the forest's denizens were uniformly asleep or otherwise occupied; but listening for the sounds of the forest to fade in order to gauge danger was hardly a viable course of action when two humans and a wyvern - at the least - were in the area.
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Aria
Wyvern Rider
Chewy's Caretaker
Posts: 190
Bern Fame: 1
Profession: Wyvern Rider
Affinity: Anima
Profile: Aria's Profile
OoC Alias: Twilightfairy
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Post by Aria on Aug 12, 2020 20:00:38 GMT -6
Aria sipped her tea as Ascher explained, his clear lack of knowledge about wyverns. Which was a bit of a shocker for her. As everyone in Bern at least knew SOMETHING about wyverns.. considering it's the national animal. There were holidays and fairs dedicated to the animal. And with military training, he should have at least gotten a basic lesson in wyvern.. studies. Or a very basic list of 'things not to do while around wyverns'. But, then again, this man was living in the mountains, and war, does funny things to the human mind.
"I don't know how you.. don't know about wyverns. Being military and all. I'm sure some of your comrade in arms must have been wyvern rider's themselves." She put her tea down.
"Wyverns come in two flavors. The more common ones being those that look like Chewy. Four limbs. A set of wings. The other variant is a rarer to come by. They are more serpentine like wyverns and only have their hind legs and wings. Some of them even have really big fangs in the front. Those wyverns are really fast, can dart around in real tight spaces, and are a bit harder to tame than the four legged variety." She paused for a moment.
"Most of what I know bout Vinland comes from traders who like to talk. Vinland.. is new. Some sailors seemed to have found it while looking for a new trade route. Word got around and then people started going there. Try to take what they can. Turns out there were already people, monsters, and critters already living there. Last, I heard that there is a Settlement of Elibians on the island. Also, it's really really hot." And that summed up about everything she knew about Vinland. She looked back at Chewy. Who had finished eating what remained of the deer and was now waddling her way closer towards Aria and Ascher. Eventually, stopping just shy of the sky haired maiden and lying down.
But, something behind Ascher snapped. Aria had to lean her head slightly to peer past the mage. She didn't see anything looming in the dark. And Chewy perked up to look. The red wyvern pulled her heavy body back up off the ground, with a light groan. The wyvern walked around the fire and past Ascher..
"Oh. Cover your ears." Aria warned. Then proceeded to cover her own ears. The wyvern roared real loud at the direction of the previous sound. The roar was loud enough to spook the birds out of the trees and cause the squirrels to run into their homes. After a few moments of awkward silence, the wyvern returned towards it's former seat. Satisfied with her work.
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Ascher
Mage
Posts: 45
Profession: Former Rebel
Affiliation: People of Bern
Affinity: Wind
Profile: Ascher
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Post by Ascher on Aug 13, 2020 7:23:21 GMT -6
The scarred mage obligingly pressed both palms against his ears - leaning in, toward the fire, despite the knowledge that whatever was about to occur would likely not entail a pressure wave. Habit, one could say. His eyes slipped shut as the roar echoed from behind him, shoulders hunched. As Chewy - having given voice to her displeasure toward whatever poor creature had mis-stepped - returned to her mistress' side, the man's eyes cracked open and began to roam over the wyvern's side and flank. He watched as the creature made her way back to the other side of the fire before finally relaxing.
The long-haired man shrugged slightly, rolling his shoulders in an attempt to release the tension before throwing his words to the wind. "Most of the resistance wasn't comprised of soldiers," he remarked softly. "Leastwise, not those who were still under oath to the country. There were plenty of veterans, but very few of us had the wherewithal to support the mounts we had during our terms of service - be they horses or wyverns." Ascher cracked a faint smile. "I suppose it also had something to do with the council of Lucerne taking an ill view of having wyverns barracked in the city proper. The only place secure enough was the citadel. Which, of course, was not an option for civilians."
The scarred mage glanced uneasily over his shoulder for the span of a heartbeat, peering into the darkness in an effort to make out whatever had prompted the wyvern to trumpet its displeasure to the heavens. And that had drawn his attention so effectively. Something didn't quite feel right. After a moment, he returned his gaze to the fire. "As for during my service proper..." His words trailed off for a bit, the man's brow furrowing as he sought words suitable to convey the sentiment without risking alarm.
Eventually, he simply gave up. The truth would have to suffice.
"...I took oath just before the Bandit War, lass. Most of the soldiers in the higher pay brackets had pitched their lot against the king in the civil war. As you might expect, that left those of us who remained or enlisted shortly thereafter mighty short of mages, cavalry, and air support of all kinds." Ascher's expression darkened ever-so-slightly. "And officers, for that matter." The man let out a slow breath, face smoothing over as he sought to regain his composure. "The... people... that were brought in to make up the numbers weren't the sort you would trust with an asset like a wyvern. I was rather surprised that they trusted them with blades - forget issuing them horses or tomes. There were a few riders that we saw on occasion, but our officers never told us much other than 'stay away from the chompy bits' and 'dun go and get yourself et.' Persons of quality, as I'm sure you can see." He smiled sardonically, keeping his hands carefully away from his hip-case as he awaited her reaction - hoping, despite himself, that she might be open to discussing wyverns more in-depth if she didn't decide to take umbrage against his having served during Hargus' period of influence over the country.
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Aria
Wyvern Rider
Chewy's Caretaker
Posts: 190
Bern Fame: 1
Profession: Wyvern Rider
Affinity: Anima
Profile: Aria's Profile
OoC Alias: Twilightfairy
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Post by Aria on Aug 14, 2020 19:02:03 GMT -6
The red wyvern wanted praise for her work. And she obnoxiously shoved her big nose under neath Aria's arm. But, the rider was familiar with the wyvern's tricks. What appeared to be a genuine act of affection was just a ruse to try and snatch what ever was left of her jerky. Aria simply ignored the wyvern, and tried her best to keep the last remaining morsels of her jerky far away from the wyvern's maw. All the while, trying to listen to Ascher's life story about the bureaucracy of the army. A thing she was familiar with. Aria frowned slightly at Chewy's increasing antic to get the food.
"Excuse me." She spoke to Ascher. Aria quickly shoved the remaining bits in her mouth.
"Ther... dere no more!" She managed to blurt out towards Chewy. Who begrudgingly returned to her lying down position. She gave an annoyed huff to Aria. And the rider was left to chew her jerky quickly, so as to rejoin the conversation like a civilized human being. She took a few sips of tea to try and soften the smokey meat. After a bit, she was able to swallow, let out a relieved sigh.
"My brother told me stories about the civil war. How he had to cut down some of his own recruits cause they sided with the rebels than that of the crown. Each man had their own reason for fighting. But, he couldn't get their faces out of his head for a while." She looked away for a moment. Her mind envisioned her brother in his small tent. With a candle lit on crate. Pacing back and fourth. Thinking of what letter to write to the parents of those 'traitors'.
"He also told me of some of the horrors with the recruits taken to try and re-bolster the armies numbers. Serfs and peasants who had no idea how to use a weapon. But who's lands were ravaged by some sort of disaster be it man made or natural. Servants who had lost their masters. Most.. weren't.. well equipped for battle." She shook her head.
"The higher ups made it seem like their sacrifices were honorable. But, my brother saw it for what it was worth. Those people were nothing more than meat shields." She shook her head again.
"Army life is stable and all.. but there's a whole lot of stuff.. that makes it.. difficult. But.. uh.. can we stop talking about it though. It's bumming me out a bit. Got any folk tales?"
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Ascher
Mage
Posts: 45
Profession: Former Rebel
Affiliation: People of Bern
Affinity: Wind
Profile: Ascher
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Post by Ascher on Aug 14, 2020 20:20:14 GMT -6
Ascher winced, eying the young woman for a long moment as she wrestled with the wyvern over the morsels of venison. It wasn't the worst reaction he'd ever seen. At least she'd focused on the civil war - which he'd only caught the tail end of, ironically enough - instead of the one that followed. The mage wasn't quite sure what had possessed him to speak to such an extent when a simple "ground-pounders and cav' don't mix" would have sufficed. She clearly didn't want to talk about it. He couldn't very well blame her - usually, he was of the same mind. "My... apologies, lass. That was more explanation than your observation warranted."
As the young woman made mention of her brother's stories - the man must have been older than himself, unless he had been one of the serfs or peasants who had made up the numbers. But, at this point, it was a digression. The scarred mage was hardly willing to indebt himself to the girl over poor hospitality shown by remaining on a topic that clearly made her uncomfortable. "Folk tales... hm..." Ascher scratched at the goatee, leaning toward the fire in a vaguely contemplative fashion. "Aye, I imagine that I've a few that might suit." He perked an eyebrow at his circumstantial companion. "I suppose I'd be interested in a fair trade - a tale for a tale, if you'd like?"
The man slid off the log, lowering himself to sit cross-legged before the dancing flames. It was oddly formal, as though he were preparing himself for something. "In the old days, before the coming of the long winter, the world had been entrusted to the dragon-folk - servants of Ashera who became corrupted by the power that they wielded among lesser men." His voice rose and fell in a comfortable cadence, his fingers beginning to glimmer with silvery motes of light - a minor trick of the wind, oft used to create resonance in one's words. On the battlefield it was usually employed to ensure that orders carried over the din of the engagement, but it served equally well when telling stories around the fire - when the faint echo that accompanied the vocal enhancement was more valued than any increase in volume. Thus, though his voice carried a trifle further than usual, it took on an underlying hum - that peculiar vibration which nestles warmly into one's chest.
"Harnan was one such man, a craftsman of some little skill. In the city of Arundette did he make his home - Arundette of the mountains, Arundette of the mists. A few of the tall, marble columns that were so loved in that time were given shape by his hands - carefully, meticulously, as though his very life depended upon their perfection." A faint smile ghosted along the edges of the man's features, almost reminiscent. It reminded him of his mother's efforts to keep their spirits up, back when the forests of Lucerne had been their refuge. "For, in fact... it did. The city was ruled, in those days, by a dragon of great power - he who possessed scales of newly-fallen snow, who breathed the first wind from the mountains in winter, whose eyes shone brighter and sharper than those of any mortal seen before or since." The mage grinned at the young woman, a broad smile coming over his features - shining with the simple pleasure of someone who took joy in good words.
"Iravon." With a flick of his fingers, a short burst of compressed air manifested just above the flames - setting the fire to dancing, sending embers spiraling upward as the former cookfire brightened with the sudden influx of oxygen. A parlour trick; insufficient to risk igniting the pines or the forest detris about them. The mage had cleared a fire circle before building the camp, after all. "He who had taken the place of Ashera in the lives of those who lived and died beneath his yoke." The man exhaled toward the flames, almost experimentally. The glimmering silver at his fingertips wove tiny seals as the fire seemed to dim and brighten in cadence with his own breath. Ascher nodded to himself in satisfaction. "In the three hundredth year of his reign, he threw a grand banquet for his officials and courtiers. The armies of the divine had presented themselves in full array, the nobles and stewards themselves dancing attendance upon the dragon's might."
"As the men danced upon the mosaics of malachite and marble, of onyx and mother-of-pearl, Iravon's queen - the human maid, Vasha - hosted a more intimate celebration for the women of her lord's household. For Iravon, like his fellows, had become entranced by worldly desires and strove to possess all that was beautiful in the world - and those of the fairer sex were no exception." The scarred mage shook his head, seeming for the space of a heartbeat to echo the sorrows of the sages long-dead who lamented the loss of the past. "As the gentle queen provided hospitality for her guests, Iravon called for her to attend him - wishing to display her beauty before his court, that even the scales of the dragons of Irumor and Calvad would grow dull with envy. But the maid-queen refused to come at the order of her lord, a refusal which enraged the king and set anger to blazing inside him."
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Aria
Wyvern Rider
Chewy's Caretaker
Posts: 190
Bern Fame: 1
Profession: Wyvern Rider
Affinity: Anima
Profile: Aria's Profile
OoC Alias: Twilightfairy
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Post by Aria on Aug 23, 2020 17:32:47 GMT -6
Aria sat and listened to Ascher's words. She never heard mention of a goddess named Ashera. Most legends she knew about either involved Harmut, St.Elimine, or wyverns. And she only knew about one legend involving a dragon. One supposedly lived in the high icy mountains of Ilia and due to it living there, was the reason the land was so cold. Liam wasn't exactly keen on sharing folk tales about the dragons that were once in his life. Perhaps one day, when the old fire dragon was ready, he would tell her a little bit more about the culture of his species.
"Iravon sounds like your man-god with power. Let me guess he decided to destroy everything in sight, Or did he kill the woman and simply took on another. Or both?" Did he father a bunch of kids to like that other ancient god? She was almost tempted to ask. Aria herself had some small issues with men being higher up on the status ladder than women. Father was getting ready to marry her off, in order to form an alliance with another wyvern ranch. She decided to join the military to avoid the marriage all together. And when she was there she had to deal with the constant harassment from her fellow recruits. Some how she and Chewy managed to pull through it. Can't believe it's already been half a decade. She shook her head lightly. Now was not the time to deal with the thoughts of her past actions. Ascher needed to finish his story so she could tell one of her own. -------- OOC- Sorry not the best post. But it's been a hard week.
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Ascher
Mage
Posts: 45
Profession: Former Rebel
Affiliation: People of Bern
Affinity: Wind
Profile: Ascher
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Post by Ascher on Aug 23, 2020 20:15:53 GMT -6
A faint smile flickered over the man's features at the young rider's remark. He shook his head, lifting a finger to forestall her evident displeasure. "If Iravon were a mortal, perhaps he would have. But no... Iravon was a dragon. Such long-lived beings are more temperate than their mortal brethren - for, you see, a slight or grudge might last millennia in such a society. Lust though he might over the beauty that was Ashera's creation, Iravon was not predisposed toward rash action." The mage lowered his finger and spread his hands wide, a disarming gesture.
"As was his custom, the dragon consulted sages well-versed in matters of law and justice. With him were the seven regents of the draconic territories subsumed by his own, who were among the most important officials within his domain. Iravon asked of them what should be done with Vasha, given that she had not obeyed the order issued unto her by her lord." The scarred storyteller flicked his fingers toward the flames, decreasing the air density to tone down the camp light to better frame the contemplative mood. "For fear that the tale might embolden wives across the territories to disobey their husbands, the advisors said to Iravon: 'If it pleases you, issue a royal decree - one which states that Vasha is to never again be admitted into your presence and that her position is to be remanded to someone more worthy than she. For is it not so that she clove herself to your word upon accepting the crown? Has she not gone against your word in refusing to come and thus forsworn herself?'" The man paused, head tilted as he considered Aria - seeking to evaluate the attitude and general demeanor of his audience. Though he fancied himself a rather good storyteller, the true test came when the tales were put to a live audience. "This advice pleased the dragon, and thus were riders sent to the far corners of each territory - carrying the royal mandate to each citizen, written in the tongue of their people."
"After Iravon's anger had subsided, he recalled that - having exiled Vasha from his presence - balanced had fled from his court, in which the queen's crown remained unworn. Balance was an important thing in those days, you see, that the scales of Ashera might bear witness to the even-handedness - or lack thereof - exhibited by the custodians of her lands and people." A minor digression, but one which suggested that the mage had dabbled in history and folklore during his time at the Academy. Or perhaps he was simply repeating a story once told to him at a hearthside? Yet, the delivery seemed rather practiced for someone who would - in such a case - have been reciting the tale from memory. "The servants who attended him suggested that he appoint a replacement from the harem, but his concubines had aged over the centuries and were no longer the flowers of their youth. This displeased Iravon, and so he sought for himself a queen among the people."
"There was, in the land of frozen mists, a Sacaen carpenter by the name of Roesn. He had been exiled from a neighboring territory some time past and now earned a modest wage in the rime-covered heartlands of Arundette. A waif he had raised as his own, Hanon, was taken into the dragon's house on the order of a messenger - alongside many other young woman of beauty and stature. She held her silence on family matters, as is the custom in Sacae, and spoke to her father only when he came to the palace gates at sunset to glean some news of her health and doings." The mage's voice had taken on a rolling cadence, rising and falling more easily as he got into the swing of the story - eschewing some of the high-brow presentation that had done seemingly little but provoke his audience's ire.
"Each of the young woman had but a single night to convince Iravon of their worthiness to bear the weight of the crown. One such woman would go to him in the evening, and on the following day be remanded back into the custody of the harem - kept separate from those who had yet to make their case. On the day that she was to go before her lord, she could ask anything of the court and it would be provided to her. Such a woman would not go before the dragon again unless he had her summoned, by name. Aspirants tried all manner of tricks to sway the eyes of Winter's Lord, yet Iravon's heart remained unmoved. Neither voice nor art moved him, neither harp nor lyre. Some danced and displayed themselves before him, while others sought to engage his mind with wit and humor... but in none of these things did he see the same beauty that he had in Vasha."
"When the time came for Hanon, daughter of Roesn, to face the jaws of the dragon... she asked for nothing but that which had been remanded to all of the women who had stood before the eyes of their lord. For forty nights, she was called and walked away untouched, even unto the time that she wore the crown of Arundette. But, how the young woman outwitted the Master of the Mists is another tale altogether." The mage winked at the wyvern rider. "Iravon held a great banquet in the honor of his new queen for all to attend, decreed a holiday and opened the treasury that all might rejoice with him on that day - for his court had been made whole again."
"And so it was that Roesn continued to visit the gates of the palace and listen to the woes of the concubines - that he might know something of the fate of his daughter. On one such occasion, two of the dragon's officers spoke in hushed tones near portcullis. They had been angered by the discipline which the dragon enforced on his soldiers and conspired to assassinate him. But Roesn overheard their plot and sent word to Hanon, the queen. She reported it to Iravon, crediting her father, and presided over justice swiftly-dealt to those who would threaten their lord. A notation was made in the annals of Iravon himself, eternal until the vast walls of ice fell before Ashera's wrath." The man seemed to be building to something, as Hanon was a name that no few people were likely to recognize - even in the hinterlands of Bern.
"Some time later, the dragon singled out one of his officers for advancement - Hardra, a master of lance and spear. Eventually, he gave the man precedence over all others - save for himself and his closest companions. All of the citizens and servants at the dragon's gate were made to kneel and bow before the man, as Iravon had ordered - but Roesn would neither bow nor kneel in his presence. His actions were questioned by those who served at the palace gates, but - after mentioning their concerns several times and failing to accept his explanations - eventually told Hardra of his doings."
"Now, Hardra was a hard man - a cruel man, prone to a cold fury that penetrated the bones. He grew furious with Roesn when he saw the truth of such reports with his own eyes. Yet, it seemed to him to be a waste to let his hand fall upon Rosen alone - for such was the vengeful nature of the man. Thus, Hardra bode his time until he came before the dragon and spoke thus: 'There is a particular people scattered about the provinces. Their laws and culture vary greatly from our own; moreover, they do not observe many of your laws. It does not befit the majesty of Arundette to tolerate them. If it please you, Master of the Mists, issue a decree for the destruction of such vermin and I will shoulder the cost of the bounty to be paid." Such a practice was clearly genocide, though the mage had spoken of it in a relatively roundabout way.
"Though the dragon harboured misgivings, he granted Hardra leave to do as he would - saying that he trusted the man would act in the best interest of Arundette. Thus, the official began to seize the belongings of the Sacaens and sought to exterminate them - man and woman, youth and elder - wherever they hid. When Roesn learned what had been done, he lamented his pride in the depths of the night - crying bitterly as he prayed for mercy from Ashera. In every city which heard of the dragon's order, there was great mourning among the Sacaens even unto returning their mounts to the earth that they might find the peace in death which they would never again know in life."
"When Hanon learned of this, she became... deeply distressed." The mage paused, searching for a polite manner of conveying the queen's state of mind before finally settling upon a more sedate, regal phrase. "She reached out to her father and sought to ease his suffering, but heard only his pleas for intercession. It was the law, in Arundette, that those who approached the dragon in his hoard must be put to death - barring that Iravon extend his hand in amnesty for the transgression. Hanon, herself, had not been summoned in such a way for nearly a month! Yet, her father prevailed upon her - his own daughter - to think well on her decision. For her position in the royal palace would be unlikely to save her - Iravon had already exiled one queen, killing another was not too far beyond the pale!"
"On the dawn of the third day since Hardra's order, Hanon entered the presence of her lord. The dragon was lounging across his hall, watching the the young woman as she entered unbidden. As the guards came forward to do their duty, he extended a claw - more out of curiosity than anything else, it is said. 'I wish to hear what she has to say, that has drawn her to come unbidden into my presence.' And so Hanon replied... 'If it pleases you, attend the banquet which I have arranged today - with Hardra at your side, as is your custom.' This pleased Iravon, and he gave his consent."
"Hardra boasted to others of his brilliance and wealth, that he had been given preference over all others and that none but himself and Iravon were to attend at the queen's banquet. Yet, he still nurtured that cold flame within the hollows of his heart - for Roesn the Sacaen had since departed the city and failed to offer obeisances before him. Upon reflection, Hardra resolved to have a gallows erected - that he might prevail upon the dragon during the banquet, and have Roesn hunted and executed before the coming of the fourth dawn."
"On the afternoon of the banquet, Iravon found himself unable to rest and so set himself to reminiscing about the happenings of his life - reprising, for himself, the tales of the annals which he had kept since the beginning of time. Thus, it was found written, that Roesn the Sacaen had spared him the indignity of an attempted assassination and subsequent insurrection. And yet, when the matter was put before his regents, none could say what honor or distinction had been conveyed upon the man for his loyalty and diligence."
"It was at this time that Hardra approached the dragon, much as Hanon had - having been given leave to be in Iravon's presence long ago as a sign of his favor. Thus, Hardra came to him and it was to this man that Iravon put a question: 'What honor should be done for a man whom I wish to mark with distinction?' Hardra, thinking himself favored above all others, spoke at great length about the honors that could be conveyed - even unto the dragon's own robes being handed to a respected official, that they might be draped over the man's shoulders as a sign of honor. 'This,' he said, 'Is what should be done for a man whom the Master of the Mists wished to honor above all others.' Then the dragon said to Hanon, 'Go, and see it done for the man they call Roesn - a son of Sacae. And Hardra... be sure not to leave anything out."
"And so it was that, on that very eve, Hardra and the dragon went to the banquet set forth by Hanon. It was there that Iravon, taken by the beauty of his queen, offered to grant her that which she desired - even unto the halving of the territory. Such a notion was, of course, ludicrous - but it was the style of those days to speak in such a way, and Hanon knew better than to ask for the moon. Thus, she answered: 'If it pleases you, and I have won your favor, then what I ask is my life and those of my people. For we have been sold, my kin and I, and fall under a shadow of destruction. If only we had lived as slaves, then - perhaps - I could have remained silent.'"
"The dragon furrowed his brow in anger, speaking swiftly. 'Where is the man who has dared to do such a thing?' Hanon glanced toward Hardra for the barest heartbeat, then nodded in his direction. 'A ruthless enemy,' she murmured softly. Hardra stood abruptly, terrified to be the object of the dragon's rage. In his ire, Iravon stormed from the garden feast - knowing that he needed time to think on this matter. Hardra took it upon himself to beg Hanon's intercession, that his life might be speared... but no sooner had the man seated himself upon the queen's couch, than did the Master of the Mists return to bear witness. Hanon herself remained standing, as she had throughout the meal - the better to attend to the feast and ensure that the cups never fell empty."
"'Is he so bold as to make free with my queen, in the inner gardens of my courtyard, before my very eyes?' The dragon asked quietly, eying the official in a dangerous manner. The moment these words left the lord's mouth, the guards restrained Hardra and swept a length of cloth over his head. Conveniently, a gallows was found in the outer courtyards - one which the dragon's own servants had no apparent knowledge, and which Iravon himself did not seem to recall ordering erected. And so it was that the gallows intended for the death of Roesn saw the final breath of Hardra. Then, it was, that the dragon's anger subsided."
"Before the dawn broke, Roesn wore the signet which had once adorned the finger of Hardra. For the beauty that he saw in the steadfastness of his queen before her people, the dragon saw fit to relieve the Sacaens of their suffering - rescinding the order of death that had been set forth by his official, in his name. Yet, the advisors protested - for it was unheard of for a dragon's order to be recanted, lest others think the dragon whimsical in their role as custodians of Ashera's land and people. So it was that a new order was sent out among the territories, granting Sacaens leave to rise up against those who sought to take their wealth and lives in-hand - regardless of the people or province that might attack them."
"And so it was that Sacae took up the blade and the bow, united behind the woman who had saved her people. For while Roesn's plight might have garnered symapthy, his pride would undoubtedly have been his undoing. It was this that ultimately led to the fall of Arundette, their mares and proud stallions adopted by the very people they once oppressed - but that, too, is another tale altogether."
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OOC: No worries! I feel you - mine's been rather difficult as well, what with universities starting up again. The folk tale was heavily inspired by the story of Esther, adjusted to better accommodate the universe. I know it's a rather lengthy wall of text - my apologies. Figured it'd be best to get it out there instead of drawing the folk tale out for another four or five posts, and I couldn't bear to leave it unfinished. That way Aria can start hers or ask questions, if she is so-inclined.
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Aria
Wyvern Rider
Chewy's Caretaker
Posts: 190
Bern Fame: 1
Profession: Wyvern Rider
Affinity: Anima
Profile: Aria's Profile
OoC Alias: Twilightfairy
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Post by Aria on Sept 9, 2020 18:11:43 GMT -6
OOC- Sorry about the delay. Haven't been at the computer much and my muse has kinda gone on vacation. ---
Aria listened to all of what Ascher had to say. She admitted that this was a myth she had never heard before. And she had not quite heard a myth in such detail. Some of the details kinda went over her head. Not due to any lack of intelligence, but due to the fact she had a hard time keeping up with all of the details.
"Sometimes I really wish, the ancient rulers would think for half a second about the repercussions of their actions. But then again their lives are so detached from that of the common man... they probably have no idea how real life works." She mused.
"So this is Sacae's origin story? I've.. never head it myself. All I know about Sacae is that Hanon was one of the eight heroes. The land is mostly plains and grasslands. And the people have a strong belief in the Earth Mother and Sky Father. Which kinda makes sense in my head." She found herself rubbing her head. Still trying to fully process the whole story. And trying to figure out what the moral was.
"So.. I have to return your story with a story of my own. Afraid most of my stories aren't nearly as detailed. And most of them either revolve around Bern or St. Elimine. My Ma is a believer of Elimine due to her upbringing. Most of my stories of the Saint are from her." She took a sip of tea. With her cup now empty she decided to fill it with whatever remained in the pot. She decided to change the subject off of Ascher's story. She didn't want to make herself sound dumb by asking a few questions. Doesn't matter if it's human or dragon. Everyone seems to have a problem with pride.
"If your a bit tired of talkin about myths. I've got a few battle stories. Had me a run in with a Bael. Some smugglers. Not at the same time though."
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