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55th of Ymiden 719

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Kalortah
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A Songbird Comes Home to Roost (Graded)

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55th of Ymiden 719

The hot gale winds of Ymiden rushed through his wings and feathers as Kalortah raced on the skies toward Athart. His heart soared as he saw those marvelous sandstone structures once more. The air whipped around him, his eyes tracing their currents and motions and discerning shapes on the wind that told him where he needed to go, to speed up his flight.

He lowered himself on the wing, into a spinning tail-dive and then righted himself on the air, proceeding on a horizontal path toward the Forest of Stone.

All thoughts of returning to his home in that place were banished, instead he wished nothing more than to greet the Grand Aeolian, to sing of the glories he'd missed while in the midst of the ground-walker filth of other nations. Of his adventures from Scalvoris to Yaralon, and finally back to Athart.

He didn't need directions. The Temple of Glories stabbed the skies in an act of defiance, taller than any of the other residences and structures and grottos in the Forest. He alighted to the edge of the Temple, which was paved with richly colored mosaics.

His eyes beheld each of the guards who took note of his return, and bowed his head in deference to them. Although the reception was warm, they probably didn't know who he was, but they would eventually.

Finally, he approached the perfumed and cushioned throne on which the Aeolian sat. And a dozen or so paces out from it, he knelt before it briefly, before being allowed to rise.

"Grand Aeolian, I've seen lands as far as Scalvoris, down to Volanta and Yaralon. The world is a cessmire of corruption and savagery, where groundwalkers that ought to be slaves speak over their betters. It is a far cry from our glorious, sacred city, which alone sits in defiance of the scourge of filth that exist beyond it."

He knelt again, though he knew it broke with protocol. But Kalortah was somewhat overtaken with emotion. "I have a song for you, your Grace, if you would allow me to sing it for your court?"


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            Grandeur

            Aliases:
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            ,
            Larza Impre
            ,
            Flavius Erythrian
            ,
            Milian Le Moigne
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            Re: A Songbird Comes Home to Roost

            It was probably due to his instinctive kneeling before his glorious Grand Aeolian that prevented the converging Crown Guardrel from skewering Kalortah before he'd had a chance to speak. They held up as he gave his brief account of travels and judgments thereof. By the time he rose from kneeling a second time, the cordon had formed semi circles to each side of him.

            A twitch soured the Grand Aeolian's expression at the word "allowed", and she leaned forward in a interrogative manner. "What need have I of songs at such a time? I would allow you to ease our concerns with information! Had you not hurried to ply my favor, you might have put your brain to more useful tasks as you overflew these distant cities. Tell me, minstrel, are our people afflicted there as they are here?"

            A wave of a wingtip brought a door to be opened. Those avriel that could now be seen beyond it were immediately made to know that it was only their visage that was desired. Spears clutched in dire hands let them know that entry into the chamber would be met with consequences. But Kalortah would not have wanted such a turn of events in any case. Those beyond the door were a shock that stole all thought of song from his heart. Even the most grim dirge would have been a jig to dance to compared to the horror upon which he looked.

            "Yes!" the Grand Aeolian snapped, "Tell me again of some melody you believe could make to lift my spirits now, in the face of...that!" It was not a bloody, or cadaverous kind of horror that captivated all eyes, even those that had already seen too much of it to be shocked any longer. The persons present were healthy in most respects. But in one aspect, all shared a feature that stole hope from the soul of any avriel; or rather the loss of that feature.

            Feathers....

            All were shorn of their flight capability to varying degrees. Bare limbs spread like the branches of a Cylus tree behind most of them, their eyes even more bleak. Even those that still retained some plumage were clearly losing it break by break, judging by the slowly developing carpet of it that wafted in mocking reminder upon any draft. What awaited an avriel that could not fly was beyond ostracism. It was true that it did not suggest the traitorous stigma of being actually "grounded". But for all practical purposes it was on all-too-near a level. But perhaps worst of all was that it was not an affliction that brought woe to the riff-raff below.

            Those feathers that were sucked aloft by the current of the door being opened were as a plague from which even the staunch crown guardrel backed away with blanching faces. In a most telling display, actual human servants came forth with long handled nets to snatch the feathers from the air currents. Never before had Kalortah seen Crown Guard back away, in deference to a human's convenience.

            Those with spears that were still near to Kalortah made a pointed show of bringing the tips closer as the Grand Aeolian again leaned forward, in unspoken threat, "So...you chose a most timely date to be gone from our fair city. Do you return now to see what you so narrowly avoided? If you would have me believe it is truly coincidence, tell me of our people in those cities. Are they stricken with this region-wide Aloplumia as well? or is it only here in Athart?...Only on our peninsula?"
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                      Kalortah
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                      Re: A Songbird Comes Home to Roost

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                      The minstrel’s eyes were shut as he knelt, so it came as some surprise when he opened them, and moved to rise, that he found a garret of spears surrounding him on all sides. He was thoroughly confused at this reception. Had he broken protocol? How had he offended, he had no time to question them before he was being questioned.

                      At her first slew of questions and concerns, he found himself speechless. Afflicted? What had happened in Athart?

                      A twitch of the Aeolian’s wing prompted the servants to open a door. Servants… It was rare enough that slaves would be allowed access to the Temple of Glories, but be given such deference and the honor of following the Aeolian’s orders.

                      What Kalortah saw beyond the doorway, was enough to shock the strength out of his legs. He knelt a third time, which mercifully obscured the sight of those wretches beyond the quarantine. The row of spears parted enough though to give the Aeolian and Kalortah sight of each other.

                      He squeezed his eyes shut.

                      ”Yes!” She snapped, ”Tell me again of some melody you believe could make to lift my spirits now, in teh face of… that!”

                      He opened his eyes again, to look through the gap of spears and see the featherless wretches within the quarantine. He thought for sure this must be a nightmare, something born out of the most hellish darknesses of Emea. But no, this was real, real as the currents that swept up the feathers on the wind.

                      Then, to add insult to fatal injury, a gaggle of human slaves came forth with nets, and began gathering up feathers. The people beyond the gates of the quarantine couldn’t even find it in them to cry, probably driven mad with grief many days since developing Aloplumia.

                      ”I…”

                      He watched in horror as the Crown Guard backed from the humans, giving them a wide berth as they sought the feathers. Every piece of down that flew on the air, brought another shot to Kalortah’s heart and a tear to his eye.

                      The thinly veiled accusation in the Grand Aeolian’s final statement was almost too much for Kalortah. Did she… Think he had something to do with this? Why? Was it because he was a mage? He thought that was a secret, something between him and his wretched hermit of a grandfather. But apparently nothing escaped the knowledge of the Aeolian. Perhaps his grandfather had returned to court to inform the Twisting Winds.

                      ”I… I’ve seen many Avriel on the way since leaving Yaralon… None of them were so touched by this… Infirmity.” He didn’t dare ask a follow-up question, but instead stayed kneeling on the ground, in submission.

                      Those avriel that were near enough to see the bubbling waves upon the air, would recognize them for what they were. An avriel quietly sobbing.

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                                Grandeur

                                Aliases:
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                                ,
                                Larza Impre
                                ,
                                Flavius Erythrian
                                ,
                                Milian Le Moigne
                                .
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                                Re: A Songbird Comes Home to Roost

                                The face of the Grand Aeolian softened as she watched her subject weep. Some of the more martially-oriented present scowled at the display of weakness, but their queen gave them a scowl of her own to back them off. "No...he is not a warrior. It is not uncharacteristic for such a shock to initially bring grief, rather than anger, to one not trained in such disciplines. As a weaver of melodies it is his necessity to embrace all emotions, not just anger and bloodlust."

                                She cupped her chin in her hand as her gaze became more calculating, "In fact, such a one may be exactly what we need. Properly disguised, he could go among the humans with the ability to embrace these emotions more easily." Her hand shot out to encompass all the guardrel members, "You know that none of you would be able to prevent your knowledge of your superiority from showing. I do not fault you for that, for it is only right that you should."

                                She paced now as she spoke. "Yours is a job that requires the constant reminder of dominance over the inferiors below, so there is no need for any of you to embrace the more tender emotions when among them. But this is a time where we must take a different tact."

                                There was immediate protest from the ranks, citing the belief that they were still superior regardless of a temporary setback from this illness. That when it ended, the usual status would again prevail. The Grand Aeolian's face grew more angry with each word. "AND WHEN CAN WE BE CERTAIN IT WILL END, IF WE SIMPLY ALLOW THINGS TO GO ON AS USUAL? AS IF THERE IS NOTHING WRONG?"

                                Panting to catch her breath and reorganize her thoughts, she looked across the group before her, "I do not gainsay the fact of our true glory. But the condition beyond those doors gives a lie to any such speech!" She cast a finger of loathing toward the chamber doors that were once again shut to block out the image of the afflicted. "The riff-raff below already knows that all is not well with us. They will be content to let things degrade further. And they can do it without having to openly rebel!"

                                She stepped down from her dais to give an imploring pose, "We are only displaying this current affliction by trying to punish this slight uptick in belligerency from a position of weakness! They will see the decreased impact of our intent to punish and grow ever more bold! And with wings that are bare as leafless trees, who can blame them?"

                                A new uproar sparked as result. This time, she allowed it to vent for a bit before holding a hand aloft and demanding silence. "Do you not see? This is the greatest opportunity THEY have ever had for rebellion. And in truth, we are not currently capable of stopping it. Would WE not rise up if our enemies' greatest strengths were suddenly shown to be stripped from them? DID we not? When the false gods tried to subjugate us with their tricks? Did we not see their tactics for trickeries and deceptions, and not the true strengths that WE possessed?"

                                An underlying growl filled the room as she turned back to ascend her platform, "The timing is undeniable. Here we are, caught up in a war bargain with Nashaki, and mow stricken at home as well, with unnatural affliction! And there can be little doubt that these fiends...these...Immortals"... she spat as she said it, a human quickly slipping in with a cloth to wipe up the royal spittle.

                                "...They undoubtedly possess unwaning resentment over their defeat all those centuries ago. Clearly this is the work of Raskalarn. And this 'Cult of Valtharn' that houses itself in the human population below? Valtharn is the very child of Raskalarn! Could the truth be any clearer? Somewhere in that population is one who knows what has happened. But trying to bully them in force, when we show diminished ranks, shod in weakening feathers, will only strengthen their resolve against us!"

                                It was to the credit of her subjects that none asked 'what are we to do?' The slight upturn to her mouth displayed the presence of a plan, and they would wait to hear it. "So..." she began, "We will NOT bully. We will let them think that we are considering the necessity of some compromise of status. We will even let them have a gain or two in council.They will grow confident...Then they will grow over confident. Then they will grow careless. And then we will strike!"

                                She gave a gesture and a servant brought a small, decorative cushion. She now gestured the minstrel before her to rise. "Perhaps we shall have a song shortly, bard. But for now I bid you, take this stone. It is a Transformation gem, gifted by the only Immortal who ever showed us the respect we are due. It will allow you to pass among the humans below, in their self-same form. I know that such a transformation seems an abject surrender to inferiority, but it will not be permanent."

                                She backed away in a gesture of surprising humility, "I ask of you this sacrifice, Bard. That you take the form of these...humans...to walk among them. To listen and learn. Contacts will be made in time. You will need to embrace the mindset of these inferiors, which is why I can not call upon the guard to do this task for me. I know it will grate upon your sensibilities to take such a form, nonetheless. But I feel you are far more likely to perform such a mission successfully."

                                At the last, she sat with a smile, "And think of the song it will make!"
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                                          Kalortah
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                                          Re: A Songbird Comes Home to Roost

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                                          Kalortah was a fair bit too occupied trying to swallow his own tears, to really follow the spiel that the Aeolian went through. He heard vague assurances to the guardrel of their superiority to humans, and how they were uniquely ill suited to pass among them hidden. It seemed a strange assertion, and he didn’t immediately follow where she was going with it.

                                          Eventually, she came to the idea, of using him, a soft, emotional bard as a spy. For who better to pass easily among humans than an improper avriel. One loyal to the race as a whole and yet not deserving of their glory.

                                          As she continued to speak, he reflected on her manner. He saw and heard glory without substance, power without dignity, and fury without compassion. And through it all, did the Aeolian even hear herself?

                                          He sighed as he knelt before her. It was at that moment, that Kalortah truly grasped the meaning of vanity.

                                          Yet he nodded along as she backed away in false humility. It must have taken some dire restraint on her part to do such a thing, an act of desperation even. He could sense his star rising at that moment, but knew well enough that with the slightest wave of her hand, it could come spiraling down to earth.

                                          ”I will do as you say, and pass among these… humans.” He said, bitterness in his mouth. ”I will do anything to restore our people to the glory they deserve.”

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                                                    Grandeur

                                                    Aliases:
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                                                    ,
                                                    Larza Impre
                                                    ,
                                                    Flavius Erythrian
                                                    ,
                                                    Milian Le Moigne
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                                                    Re: A Songbird Comes Home to Roost

                                                    "I have complete faith that you will do just that. But first, there are some unpleasant realities you must consider." Her face slid from regal self-assurance to grim seriousness as she spoke. "None can know that you are not one of the lower peoples. So you may well have to endure extra deference to any of our own that may demand that you account for your presence in any place that some investigative lead may require you to go."

                                                    She let that sink a moment before elaborating, "This is not to say that you will get no support. But it may take time for our informed agents to become aware of some unfortunate incident that has resulted in your incarceration. You must not reveal your true form. Do not betray the possession of the stone. If some Overguard or Shadow Wing takes it, let them have it. It will not work for them, once you have aligned it to your blood. You may have to endure a beating, if the guard feels you were insolent. And I know that it may look this way to them. It is very hard at first for one of us to properly adapt the mundane, subservient attitude of those below."

                                                    She patted his shoulder with a grim sneer, "Take comfort while you take such humiliation, in the fact that they will come to regret the incident far more than you will have. Your incarceration will be rescinded as quickly as possible, and if the stone is lost, we will restore or replace it. If replaced, you will have to align it again, but that can't be avoided."

                                                    The details of the subject of 'aligning the stone' were obviously at the forefront of the bard's curiosity. She took it from him briefly to demonstrate, "It is simple, though not necessarily easy. You must prick yourself somewhere, most likely a finger, and let a drop of blood drip onto the stone. You should see it soak into the surface almost immediately. The stone will then soften to where you can squeeze its center. But that is just information, don't do it until you can stand before a mirror privately."

                                                    Looking off and giving a quick assessment of some detail, she handed the stone back, "Once you squeeze the stone, you must begin immediately, and do not stop squeezing until you are completely finished. I would expect at least five bits to do it well. While squeezing you simply will your features to change, and they will take whatever form you desire them to. This is why a mirror is necessary, so you can see how it is coming. And you can change things more than once. truly, as long as you keep squeezing the stone, you can change things over and over again."

                                                    With a look of blended sympathy and loathing toward the door behind which huddled 'the afflicted', she advised her bard to start with the dismissal of his wings. His reaction was no different than what she expected, and she quickly explained. "I know it is hard. I have seen agents come back with confidence that they are now fully disguised as humans, yet they still unfurl their glory behind them as if none would notice." Her laugh was only part amusement. "They were properly sorted out...No, it is far easier to put yourself in the necessary mindset of adapting a mundane and drab human form, if the magnificence of your wings is not offsetting the attitude you need to adapt."

                                                    Satisfied that the bard came to realize and accept the bland visage he would need to adopt, the Grand Bird went on to other details. "So, once you have held the squeeze long enough to complete every change necessary to be truly convincing, you stop squeezing the stone. The features you have altered will set, and the stone will harden. The changes will last as long as you do not use the stone to change back. We don't know if there is truly a limit, as none have ever desired to remain in such form once their task was complete."

                                                    She laughed briefly at the very thought of staying in some low form if it was not out of dire necessity. "To return, you will just need to drip another drop of blood onto the stone and squeeze it for a moment. The change to your true form will not require any mirror gazing or any need to willfully command changes on your part. Changing back is instantaneous and flawless. but that will establish the two forms the stone is capable of bestowing. There is no third or fourth form available. And you must allow a full trial between changes, whether it is into or out of your true form."

                                                    Standing in thought for a moment, she asked, "So...Is there any detail that needs further clarification? Anything I need to repeat? If not, I think would enjoy that song now."
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                                                              Re: A Songbird Comes Home to Roost

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                                                              Kalortah nodded through the Aeolian's speech, as she described the intricacies of her plan and the terms of his serving as an agent of her government. Having already accepted his role, his duty, he was prepared to do much. Yet even he could find some of what she described as totally objectionable. He didn't relish that he would be treated as a lesser creature. Although he'd lived among the humans for the greater part of the last arc, for all those trials he'd never come to accept them. An understanding of sorts was had, but it was only from a position of superiority. He wasn't confident in his ability to learn how to pretend to be a lesser being.

                                                              But he would try.

                                                              "I have no other questions, your Highness." Kalortah bowed low before her. He took a few steps backward, and then cleared his throat. "Thank you for hosting your humble servant."

                                                              It was strange, as he flew through the forests of his birth, he was full of inspiration. He had been fully prepared to make up a song on the spot. Yet the horrors of the unfeathered, and the chilly reception of the Aeolian's court had chased all inspiration from his mind.

                                                              So he decided to err on the side of an old standby, one he was confident hadn't been heard yet in Lorien in Athart. It was one that'd been inspired by his meeting with a beautiful human singer. One he'd killed in a fit of jealousy over her voice. He'd come such a long way since then, and learned so much of the world. The person who devised that song was a much different avriel than the one he currently was.

                                                              Yet he thought these avriel would appreciate the song.

                                                              "Strong winds blow,
                                                              Through the arms of Cypress trees.


                                                              Flesh, Avriel and Slave,
                                                              Both part 'neath a butcher's blade.


                                                              The suns shine on pools,
                                                              Where lesser life's blood leaked.


                                                              The Feathered's Prey falls,
                                                              Her cries unheard in green glades

                                                              The Plumage of the victor,
                                                              Ruling with Glory all under its shade."


                                                              He'd added the last verse as a tribute to the Aeolian and her brave guardrel, at the last moment. This done, he bowed low before her again.

                                                              It would be a long few seasons, as he served the Aeolian.


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                                                                        Grandeur

                                                                        Aliases:
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                                                                        ,
                                                                        Larza Impre
                                                                        ,
                                                                        Flavius Erythrian
                                                                        ,
                                                                        Milian Le Moigne
                                                                        .
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                                                                        Re: A Songbird Comes Home to Roost

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                                                                        Come and get your Loot!

                                                                        (There's plenty more where that came from)



                                                                        KALORTAH SATRAVIAL:

                                                                        XP Rewards: 15

                                                                        These points can NOT be used for magic.

                                                                        Skill Knowledges:

                                                                        • Blades (Saber): How the guardrel hold their blades must be good technique
                                                                        • Detection: The edge in a voice veiling an accusation
                                                                        • Detection: The effect of weeping on the flow of air currents
                                                                        • Discipline: Fighting to maintain composure against Aloplumia
                                                                        • Endurance: To do ANY favor for the Aerie gives a boost
                                                                        • Etiquette: Asking for permission to give a gift
                                                                        • Etiquette: Kneel before the Grand Aeolian
                                                                        • Flying: Following the air currents among pillars of stone
                                                                        • Flying: A spinning tail-dive
                                                                        • Intelligence: Bringing news from Scalvoris and Yaralon
                                                                        • Intelligence: No Aloplumia outside of the Crescent Peninsula
                                                                        • Intimidation: A Cordon of armed guardrel on both sides
                                                                        • Intimidation: The Grand Aeolian suspected you
                                                                        • Intimidation: The Quarantined create a chamber of horrors
                                                                        • Linguistics: Human-accented Lorien gives insight into languages
                                                                        • Linguistics: The many language origins of songs
                                                                        • Politics: Aloplumia can undermine confidence in The Aerie
                                                                        • Politics: Grand Aeolian must maintain regal facade for avriel morale
                                                                        • Politics: Martial avriel can not be expected to play a part
                                                                        • Politics: Pep-talk rhetoric to redirect tension
                                                                        • Psychology: The glory of returning home to Athart
                                                                        • Psychology: The impact of both joy and horror in so short a time
                                                                        • Psychology: Is receiving a Transformation Stone worth being a human?

                                                                        Non-skill Knowledges:
                                                                        • Aloplumia: A disease that can render an avriel flightless
                                                                        • Aloplumia: The Ymiden 719 version is not contagious through normal means
                                                                        • NPC: The Grand Aeolian of Athart
                                                                        • NPC: The Grand Aeolian
                                                                        • Transformation Stone: How to use one

                                                                        Loot:

                                                                        A Transformation Stone.
                                                                        And the potential for great renown in the future.


                                                                        Loss/Injuries:

                                                                        Nothing but a few night's sleep over the fate of the Quarantined.
                                                                        As well as the thought of your impending...humanity...ugh!


                                                                        Renown: 5

                                                                        There will be some renown among the avriel.
                                                                        They will be keeping it secret though.
                                                                        As there definitely needs to be NONE among the lower city.


                                                                        Comments:

                                                                        Love Kal's weeping over the horror of the Quarantined.
                                                                        Good catch that it would create unique air patterns. 8-)
                                                                        You know, you can get +3 Bank Points for "Create Approved ST Song or Poem".
                                                                        I would assume anything original, in a thread, would count. ;)
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