Fantasy RPG Forum - Standing Trials

Kalortah heard it from Boss Gosling. A commotion from the Golden Flock in the Joyful Treasure's museum. Not necessarily signaling danger toward them, but a potential fire-keg of a situation maybe? The avriel always found his communications with birds rather twisted and winding, not at all straightforward. Of course when it came to fulfilling their needs, their diction was always perfectly understandable, straightforward, and succinct. It was typical.

So Kalortah try as he might to extricate details from Boss Gosling, couldn't quite manage. Nevertheless, his curiosity sufficiently piqued, he arose early the next morning. Once he was sure that Lotema wasn't watching, he got dressed in a tight-fitting doublet, with padded vest and sleeves in red and gold brocade. The stitching wove a tapestry of an avian tableau from the collar of the doublet down to the sleeves. On his hands, a pair of crimson velvet gloves. On his legs he wore trousers of black velvet, casually fitted to his thin form, and tucked into a pair of black leather knee boots. Around Kalortah's neck, as often was the case, a pendant of platinum with two mismatched gems, similar to his heterochromatic eyes of blue and light pink. The buttons on his doublet were of gold. Around his shoulders he wore a black wing-valance lined with crimson velvet.

Then he went about changing his colors to a more pleasing hues than he'd adopted in Yaralon. Golden feathers topped his wings, dripping down into hues of blue and green at the tips of his wings. His hair became spun gold, and complexion went from turquoise to a hue of pearly pink. Once he was satisfied with his appearance and new colors, he steeled himself with the prospect of going to Lotema, and presenting her with the idea of uprooting theirselves from Yaralon to fly to another country. Kalortah had some tasks to do for Delroth here, and he intended to do them... in time. But right now, the Dragon's Golden Geese called to him, with their fluttering and fussing. He only hoped he would get there in time to see what they were up to. In either even, he'd be able to present what treasures he'd found for Draaithadir.

"Lotema..." Kalortah said, as he approached his mate, who was coddling their newborn. "I think it's time to leave Yaralon, for now. I need to meet a friend in Uthaldria."

Lotema looked up at him, and gave a sigh of relief, much to his surprise. "Finally. "

"You... want to leave?"

Her head took a sardonic tilt, "This place has its charms, but being cooped up in the temple all day to avoid the dangers.... It's not the kind of life we'd want for this child."

Kalortah sighed, relieved. And thanked himself for choosing a mate whose wings were restless as he was. "So we'll prepare to go then. I'll saddle Chryseus."

Thus it was settled, and they made the near 30 trial journey, partly by air, partly by boat. But always taking the shortest path to their destination, as the albatross flies.

When they arrived at Draithadir's domain, he knew that he'd arrived at a momentous occasion, as there was markedly more activity about than usual. He was just outside the museum for whatever reason, perhaps Draithadir was entertaining guests, and jealous of their company, although that would seem unlike her, from what he remembered. Afterall, if Draithadir could stomach the company of Zana and that dirty bum Arlo Creede, she couldn't possibly begrudge a creature of his own majesty..

Nevertheless, he wished to honor the sanctity of the museum for now, and instead turned his attention north. There, he took off and flew after the ships he saw in the distance, until catching up on the wing.

His mate, child, and servant Weep were saddled on Chryseus, and flew a safe distance behind him. With all their major treasures stocked in bags on the dragonling's back.

As he followed, he sang a song for them to hear:


"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."

It was an old song, but a good one, and perhaps onoe that these flying folk might appreciate, whoever or whatever they were. He continued singing a variations of his songs as he went along, but making certain he was unthreatening to them, and hoping his peaceful intentions were clear.

The winged mortalborn thought he espied some military-looking folks on the ground. At least, they appeared to be bracing for the approach of the ships. Kalortah didn't have many songs of peace or soothing ballads to sing down at them, or at the winged reptiles that were now flying up alongside Chryseus.

In fact, as the latter mentioned folk got close, they began speaking in a tongue entirely incomprehensible to Kalortah, yet there was something attractive about its flow and melody. He decided he'd like to learn that language, if he could, if the people inviting his dragon onto their ship were friendly.

Chryseus, perhaps recognizing something familiar in those people, didn't wait for Kalortah's permission, but descended to the platform that was laid out for him. Upon a graceful landing, he preened and posed for them, his eyes flashing with majesty but a little bit of mischief. Chryseus always enjoyed a captive audience, and so put on his best performance for these winged folk.

Kalortah meanwhile slid off of his saddle, along with the rest of the family. Lotema was sheepish, and clutching at their child protectively. Kalortah listened to the people speak their language, trying to make themselves understood perhaps. However he was having trouble without establishing some baseline wods to collate their own meaning.

He pointed to the dragonling, perhaps something that these people would know the word for. "Dragonling." He paused, "Name is Chryseus."

He pointed to himself, "Kalortah." Then to Lotema, "Lotema." As they were both the same race (by all appearances), it should've been evident that he was giving her name as well as his. Or perhaps not. Kalortah was no stranger to language barriers, but it was always a bit like stumbling around in the dark when making first contact.

"Peace" Kalortah said, in as soothing a voice as he could manage, and he could quite easily, given his vocal training.

He smiled, and spread his arms, then gestured toward Chryseus, who was getting a little jealous that Kalortah was dominating the show. "Come!" He said, then again, "Meet Chryseus."