Leilamont [Location]

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Azra
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Re: Leilamont [Location]

Post by Azra » Mon Jan 06, 2020 10:12 am


"You're lucky in a way, means you can pick any instrument to play. Could become a master of the sword or a strangling cord. Might take a fondness for the bow, or learn that through words you can command a crow." She gave the word play a rest there though Azra not thinking herself much for poetry and all the wordy charm of these lands. Rather her hands went to her hip and undid the belt of hers that kept her short sword in place. Her physique becoming tangible as she offered the weapon to the writer.

"Untill then though take this, you might be able to rewrite fate down the line but that's no good if a bumble bear sinks it's stinger hands into you before you know how." Bumble bears Azra had come to think as one of the worst things out there. As a kid she always thought it cute, black and yellow bears with big bug eyes purposeless tiny wings and stingers for claws. She even had a plushy of one back in the small village like town she grew up in, fighting one took away the cuteness though.

Thankfully someone else was on watch duty of the newcomer. Kindel's hands were while thin plenty capable and the ghost liked that thought over her being the protector. Funny thing about the defensive abilities of a ghost, her own defenses could prove quite the hurtle to get over. They didn't really lend themselves to shielding others though. "As for how to use a weapon my advice is just don't drop it and point the shiny side of the sword away from you."

With a bit of snark out of the way the ghost took a few steps forward catching up a little more with Tyria and Kindel. "I vanish maybe a bit to much how's the others? And Lady Helia?" Of course little she heard out on her actions sounded to good. One could always at least hope news from the source was better however.

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Re: Leilamont [Location]

Post by BanefulMelody » Wed Jan 08, 2020 10:47 am

The Lyre King took to her praise, folding himself in a sweeping bow, then folding himself again once over, his hair actually touching the ground as he bent impossibly tight around his waist like a genuflecting contortionist. When he rose, his smile was wide, stretched from ear to ear in a plasticine gash. Boney teeth jutted from his gums like spines from a flayed back, their edges slick with visceral saliva.

"The lute is but an extension of the man, and the man is no more a mass than the parts of his whole!" He replied, "So even when a part is apart, the whole apart from the parts is still, abjectly, partly whole! Without lute, I am still a lutist, just as a bird is still a bird even if you cut off its wings!"

He laughed, sharply, eyes twinkling with merriful bemusement.

"I am pleased with your swiftness. I can already almost hear her."

As the woman turned to leave, the Lyre King stood motionless, watching with that same wide, too-joyful smile, and when she hesitated, he tilted his head ever-so-slightly to the side. He listened to her question, then pondered on it for a moment, looking as how a puppy might ponder over how to tackle a particularly large bone - with excited trepidation, and a hint of carnal hunger. Finally, he thought an answer that satisfied his initial whim.

"She is to ascertain the Kin from Not-Kin," the Lyre King said. "I trust her judgement on matters of... the mystical sort. After all, she is a very special herbologist, isn't she? Some might say a witch, but - oh, that's not quite right. No, she touches on the science. The science beyond our natural world, the rhystic studies of knowledge most forbidden, most occult - do you know what I refer to, dear listener?"

His smile had turned knowing, and his eyes turned dark, no sign of twinkle or mirth from before. A second's pause, then another, each concurrent tick piling on top of their tocks as a traffic jam of moments crashed noiselessly into the thick-strung air.

"An alchemist!" He finally bellowed, clapping his hands together. "An alchemist, good girl, an alchemist! My, I could smell the tension! Could you not? Could you not?"

His words descended into cackles, and he dismissed her with a wave, turning his back to play on an imaginary phantom of his shattered strings.

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Re: Leilamont [Location]

Post by BanefulMelody » Wed Jan 08, 2020 11:04 am

"Protect him?"

Kindel stared down at her leader's spear for a few seconds, looking much more shocked than the lack of thunder would imply. She'd never been charged to protect someone before. Well, technically, it was her duty to protect all of Leilamont by proxy, and she certainly laid her life on the line for the safety of her comrades, but to have someone, an individual, be so incapable of defending themselves they required protection - it was a liability! A crack in their impenetrable wall of rebellion, threatening to overspill into oblivion!

The lazzle narrowed her eyes at the boy. He really was just a boy, small and timid. Not a warrior like Tyria, or Azra, or any of the people in their clan. Maybe this was what a child-kin looked like. A bit too tall, for the typical baby, but the kin were... were chosen ones! They were allowed concessions.

"I shall defend the long-infant with my life," Kindel growled, slapping her hand on her chest in a lazzle salute. "If so much a blood-speck spills from his heart-place, my honor will be forfeit."

She glanced at him.

"Do not die, kin, if you value my honor."

Azra attempted to give him some lessons on sword-fighting - very basic lessons, Kindel thought, which only added to the impression of the boy as an overgrown child. Yes, that was certainly the proper assessment. She wondered, idly, if he threw tantrums when he was upset, or if kin were different in that regard as well. She certainly threw tantrums, as a child. It was a sign of strength.

The wisp-walker's words broke Kindel's ponderings, and curiosity turned to anger.

"She is still missing, you foolish woman! Were you not at the southern camp's defeat? Did you not see the Tarnished invade, did you not see the king's right hand attack? Cragg lost his brother! Your brain is thin like mist -" she cut off, anger fading slightly, replaced now with shame. "I should not speak to a kin as such. It is without honor. I apologize. I am just angered by your words."

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The Dreamer
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Re: Leilamont [Location]

Post by The Dreamer » Wed Jan 08, 2020 11:43 am

The charging woman came to a stop as Tyria’s weapon came to stop between them, her commanding words instead giving ‘Kindel’ a job essentially. The job of protecting him. Sean sighed a sigh of relief as that was said. A ghost appeared, to give him a sword, but one without a sheath. He took it in hand as he tossed the book and pen into the bag.He’d just have to make one, Sean decided. He’d really rather not argue with a ghost when he almost got run over by the giant thing.

With Kindel’s words as insurance, Sean felt it easier to talk to her. He laughed at the remark ‘long infant’, realizing that perhaps that was how she saw him. Bright and Shiny was Leilamont and yet speak of War and Death they sung. Sean really began to wonder what part of his twisted imagination led to the birth of this dreamworld. He hadn’t yet realized that this place, despite being a dream was very much real.

The giant woman scorned at the ghost. “You ought to not be quick to anger Kindel. Now come. As Lady Tyria said, off we go!” He too began to pace behind Tyria, off to wherever she was taking him, and perhaps to this King of Lyre they spoke about. In his memory the king was a wise, benevolent king, not of twisted ink.

He was at least glad that Tyria found amusement in him, the companion who isn’t a fighter, but rather, he claims he’s a writer. Sean repeated the words in his head, impressed by her quick thinking over all else. There was no way he could come up with something like that even if he put a lot of effort into it. But Sean guessed that’s what made Tyria the leader of the resistance, though he hadn’t heard of such a thing.

“I can’t write with one hand holding on to a sword,” He argued with Tyria. “But yes, if that were to be my role in this dream, then I shall take to it."

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Re: Leilamont [Location]

Post by illirica » Wed Jan 08, 2020 9:59 pm

"Aha, amateurs!" Of course they were, weren't they? That was why they needed Tyria's guidance! "Alezra, take the sword, the boy's more use with a pen. You can teach him how to use it later, but for now he'd just be getting in everyone's way. Kindel, we all miss the Lady Helia's guidance, let's hope Alezra was merely inquiring after whether we'd heard anything - which we have not. And there is no loss of honor in caring for your companions. There, now, no more arguments or I'll stab the lot of you myself and then won't Sean have an interesting tale to write? Ha!" She seemed to be kidding about the last, at least.

Probably. Tyria's attention shifted briefly to the tiny Candela hovering at her shoulder, its core flickering through a series of images of the terrain up ahead. They were indistinct, hazy at best, which meant the fire sprite hadn't found anything in them that was particularly interesting to it. That could mean there was nothing to be concerned about, or it could just meant that the Candela found other things to be more intriguing at the moment. Most people thought them unreliable, but Tyria was fond of them.

Perhaps she found kinship in creatures with the attention span of a mayfly for anything they weren't interested in - but no one said that, of course. She was Kin of Baron, after all. "We'll go north from here. We'll camp a little early, that will give Sean and Alezra time to practice for about ten minutes before the surprise attack."

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Azra
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Re: Leilamont [Location]

Post by Azra » Fri Jan 10, 2020 3:13 pm


Alezra's hand motioned to rest against the flower bound behind her left ear the dandelion she was told to keep in remembrance. One day she was to plant it to have a home and always be it here or the world she came from have a piece of Leilamont with her. "A girl can hope. Also speak how you wish I can take it." The ghost remarked, words could hurt but so far they were nothing new, or nothing she didn't tell herself. Ballads could be wrote about her ventures but that didn't mean they were closer to victory. Everything she read and studied had helped but she wasn't with a sword against the king's throat yet. Words were sharp, spoken or written but they didn't haunt her thoughts like her own failures and weren't quite the tools to kill a specter.

She gestured to her hip suggesting how best to store the blade. Of course a belt was better than just a belt loop on jeans but it should be enough she felt. Stored safely but easy to remove, she didn't have a scabbard for the blade at the time. A pelock, sort of a mix of angry pelican and peacock had attempted to steal it from her one night on the shores of the Violet Docks. While the beast was slain and provided a meal that night the sheathe was in tatters. Eventually ending up so in shambles to have simply been used as food for Mewsalot. The small feline fowl companion rather liked leather, sure was chewy and took time to swallow down but it was normal. Or normal for the abnormal charm of these particular lands. In any case she had no conventional way to store the weapon, it was something to pick up next time she'd gone to one of the main camps.

Tyria wasn't wrong though everyone's weirdness and thoughts aside, getting together liked to encourage the tide. The ghost didn't put it past this night to end up with a wave of foes to arrive or something to go wrong. A year past adventures a plenty but forces scattered. They come together with a new ally, and then insert dramatic moment there. It seemed apt which made it sound all to probable. "You might jest but maybe settling before the camp is best? If we were to be ambushed in a classic fashion better it not be where wounded rest." Wounds mentally were still fresh and a long friend's retort had picked the scab clean, Alezra didn't want to insinuate another raided like scenario. Those kind of remarks did make those kind of thoughts come to her though, pooling back into her mind like blood flowing from the scab being opened. She war far more content burning down enemy camps than watching another village or camp she came to like be reduced to ash.


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Re: Leilamont [Location]

Post by The Dreamer » Sat Jan 11, 2020 2:29 am

Sean was a bit overjoyed when the spoke of camping was mentioned. It meant he would finally get some time and perhaps opportunity to better assess the weird situation. Dreams often tended to be hazy but this one was pretty clear, though he suspected that could change once he woke up. It gave him a bit of time to think if all dreams were like this after all, and that he simply loses the clarity upon waking up. Yeah, that is certainly something that would logically happen.

As they settled down, the creature followers of Tyria went about driving stakes into the ground and setting up tents, opening up wares and trunks of various things. Did she say 10 minutes? That’s hardly any time at all.

“How can you be so sure of an ambush Tyria. Is the King of Lyre aware of our movements? Does he have foresight?” Could that truly be the case?

After he found a quiet moment under the shade of a boulder a bit away from the camp area, he opened his diary and wrote about the day, taking special note of the characters he’d met so far:
Journal Entry wrote:
Tyria Kuiper: Slayer of Nightmares, Survivor of Lyre King’s Schemes and one who thinks this is her dream.
Kindel: A tall, spindly limbed creature with no title I know of, and species specification I'm not entirely sure of, suppose she is my guard now?
Alezra: A Knightly Ghost, reminds me of Casper, the friendly ghost. Knightly ghost might imply that she was, in living, a Knight. That's interesting.

The sound of a Leviathan uplifted my gaze and I saw something truly extraordinary. A giant, flying whale with scales like a serpent, glistening to the rays of the sun beckoning on its back and with a wingspan of three times larger than its body. It threatened to darken the entire horizon in shade. And this massive beast was accompanied by smaller fish like flying creatures who took advantage of the behemoth to fly on effortlessly under its wings. A truly marvelous sight. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the marvels of Leilamont for as long as I dream.

No one else thinks much of them, but I can only imagine its so because they've seen this scene and these things for much much longer than I have.
His eyes turned to the sword a second, wondering how a sword that was wielded by a ghost not very long ago. And although the blade seemed in pristine condition, he had no doubt that it had slain more than its fair share of foes. Swords had memories and it knew how to slay. Was that what Alezra meant when she said "As for how to use a weapon my advice is just don't drop it and point the shiny side of the sword away from you." Curious. Sean wanted to test the theory, but perhaps later.

After his moment, he returned to the group and helped around with whatever chores they had for him. Most of them were just reluctant to let a ‘Baron Kin’ work in their stead, but Sean just wanted to make himself useful and not just baggage. He had a fairly non-adventurous job of all things!

One thing became clear. Baron Kin was something special in this world and Sean was determined to find that out. It was with that intention he cornered Tyria and asked her this question. "So Tyria, I have a question. What is a Baron kin?"

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Re: Leilamont [Location]

Post by illirica » Wed Jan 15, 2020 9:23 pm

Camp was made, which meant the surprise attack would be coming shortly. Tyria relaxed a bit when the newest member pulled out his book and started writing - Leilamont would surely allow the time for that. She stood nearby anyway, keeping watch in case dramatic tension overcame literary proficiency in this particular instance. Also, it was an excuse to read what he was writing over his shoulder, wasn't it? Tyria grinned unabashedly at his description of her, as well as finding some of the more flowery prose interesting.

It seemed writing was still key, after all, since he finished his journaling and returned to where everyone else was before returning his attention to her again with an inquiry. "Kin of Baron," she half-corrected, half-expanded. "Ah... a bit hard to explain, isn't it? The Baron's a... call him a mythological figure, maybe. Not really a god, but something like might have been seen as one, once upon a time. Now, it comes to the Lyre King - you've heard of him, right? Nasty sort, they say. Well, the story goes that only one of the Kin of Baron can defeat the Lyre King and restore order to Leilamont or something. Baron's not like them, though - he's human, like you or I. So, when one of us drops in, they're Kin of Baron, and they're tied in to the Quest. They can't say for sure which of us'll be the one to defeat the Lyre King. Some of them come and go. Some of them stay, like I have. Makes sense, since it's my dream, eh? It'd be a riot if you weren't the main character in your own dream!"

She flashed him one of her grins, well aware of what he'd written about that. "Can't say we've had a writer before. Must mean the story's about to get interesting."

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Re: Leilamont [Location]

Post by The Dreamer » Thu Jan 16, 2020 2:33 am

Sean felt the overreaching gaze of the party leader Tyria as he was writing his notes. He didn’t find it concerning. She was like a mother cat, high on alert for a would be ambush that hadn’t come yet, her gaze on her kittens. He found it a bit amusing in all honesty. He settled down on the ground as she started talking, taking mental notes as she went on.

“Interesting. So you know that this world is a dream.” Sean tried his best to understand from a logical point of view. Dreams were weird, but there was no reason in his mind to not try and make sense of it all. “But all the same you acknowledge that I’m human, but you know as well as I that back where we come from, from ‘Earth’, the simple classification of being a human can hardly be applied, metahumans and mutants and such exist after all.” He brought up questions and thoughts in concurrence. As nothing seemed to be happening yet, they had some time to sit and ponder about the world and the people in it. “And what am I doing in your dream?”

And Sean figured, since Tyria had been here for much longer, she was the perfect candidate to satisfy his curiosity. And all the same, he was able to fulfill Tyria’s wishes, to write her tale. An ‘epic’ as she called it.

“Were you at all familiar with the works of Alton and the books of the ‘Court of Leilamont’?” There was another reason for his reluctance to forget and scribble notes down on his book as he spoke. Sean didn’t want to forget. Whether he dreamed about reading about Leilamont in his dream, about Alton the author and life as a human on Earth or whether this was a dream, dreams tended to make one forget if not remembered right away, and what better way than to keep it in writing so that he will never forget? This idea appealed to Sean.
Journal Entry wrote:
I see the truth in her (Tyria’s) eyes. It will break my heart of the world that she wakes up to. The question that remains now is whether or not this dream will persist for an eternity. Dreams, tend to last forever in the span of real minutes. In theory, we have all the time in the world!

I’m asking a lot of questions. I hope she doesn’t find me annoying. :(

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Re: Leilamont [Location]

Post by illirica » Thu Jan 16, 2020 2:43 pm

"You're overthinking it, boy," Tyria told him, "Of course I dreamed you up a backstory! Consistency is key. But no, you're not a real boy. Just another aspect of my imagination. Don't take it too hard, my imagination is quite incredible! You're here on account of my dream state wanting someone to write down all of my adventures, right? Nothing like a good bard to keep the story going!"

She crouched down beside him, a half-kneeling position that gave her a bit of a rest from standing but was still obviously a position she was prepared to spring into action from at any moment. Of course, springing into action at any moment seemed to be Tyria's default state, whether or not there was actually any call for it at the time. Sean started thinking about other parallels, even though she'd already told him he was thinking about it too much. It didn't much surprise her when the storybooks came up. They always did, didn't they? Alton Brown, the Writer.

"Never heard of 'im before I got here!" Tyria said, rather triumphantly, "See, that's how you know it's my dream. I'm the only one of the Kin of Baron who doesn't know who the author is. Made it up subconsciously, I'm sure, one of those themes that comes in and out. A mystery to unravel. Alezra knows a bit about him if you're looking to discuss it, though, I dare say she wouldn't mind. Likes the company, drifter or not. All right! Enough exposition. Pen down, sword up. Pointy end goes toward the other person. Have a go then!"

She didn't move from her half-kneeling position, but something in her eyes suggested that she'd have absolutely no trouble avoiding or blocking a sword strike from a crouch. Of course, given Sean's status as a beginner, there likely wasn't much reason for her to be worried, was there? And the attack would come sooner, once their weapons were out.

Tyria was ready for a bit more excitement.

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