Post-Interview surprises

Lydiatha

Wild garden cradled in a mass of branches. A red elm tree grows here, its branches gently swaying in the breeze. A low-slung myrrh bush is here. A purple flower of echinacea grows here, its large stalk straining towards the sky. A low-lying wild ginger plant is growing here. A green-flowered ginseng plant has been planted here. A lobelia wildflower is growing here. A camel awaits its rider here, snorting irritably. A delicate porcelain tea cup lies here. Strung together between two trees is a rope hammock.You see a single exit leading northeast.

You will now be known as Tracker Lydiatha, by order of Scout Master Angwe Arcan.

 Angwe bestows his guildfavour on you.

Inclining his head, Scout Master Angwe Arcan says, "Walk on, Tracker Lydiatha."

You incline your head politely to Angwe.

Scout Master Angwe Arcan smirks and says to you, "The fastest Tracker I've passed in my time as Scout Master. Well done."

 You beam broadly.

You say, "Thank you."

Scout Master Angwe Arcan says to you, "But before you leave..."

Scout Master Angwe Arcan asks you, "I wish to ask. What do you plan to become within out little family?"

You say, "I haven't looked too closely at the Paths, but I'd rather like to become a Novice Aide."

Cupping his cheek, Angwe rocks forward in the hammock, eying you goatishly. Clawed fingertips dip into his pouch, fumbling for something - an elegant cigar case, it's revealed.

Looking at an elegant cigar case, Angwe quietly clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

Scout Master Angwe Arcan says to you, "Never any cigarettes when I need 'em."

Angwe closes an elegant cigar case.

 You say, "Heh. I'm afraid I cannot help you with that."

 Angwe "Fair enough," he mutters. "Dinnae take ye for a smoker."

 You shake your head.

You say, "I am not. Though mead... I will never turn down."

The corners of your mouth turn up as you grin mischievously.

The corners of Angwe's mouth lift slightly in a small grin.

 Easily, Scout Master Angwe Arcan says, "You'll fit right in, then."

Scout Master Angwe Arcan asks you, "Have ye any siblings? Family?"

 Lydiatha scuffs at the floor with her boots, brows furrowing in a slight frown. "Nay. Not any more."

 Angwe seems to think for a moment before nodding slowly.

You shrug helplessly.

You ask, "Such is life, aye?"

Angwe averts his gaze momentarily, looking into the darkness of the cavern to the northeast. "I'm sorry to hear that," he says.

Lydiatha glances momentarily towards the northeast before returning her gaze towards Angwe. "Where I come from, we do not mourn death, we celebrate the life those we loved lived. We may miss them, but it is just life. No point in moping."

The hint of a smile returns to Angwe's wooden features. "Where are you from?" he asks, the light of his eyes flaring in the darkness as he closes them, listening.

Angwe shifts into a relaxed posture.

 Lydiatha lowers herself into a comfortable crouch, brushing her fingertips against the floor briefly. "Across the sea. Dralig Ulv-Stranden, my people called it," she replied, her voice thickening around the strange words.

Angwe blinks his eyes open, an alarmed on his face. "Across the sea?" He says, his spine stiffening. "An outlander?"

 Angwe shifts into a upright posture.

Scrutinizing you owlishly, Scout Master Angwe Arcan asks, "Are you... Albedi? Or perhaps from some unknown land to the east?"

Scout Master Angwe Arcan furrows his brow and says, "Ye dun look like a nazetu to me."

 Lydiatha tilts her head slightly in confusion, the wings behind her ruffling uncomfortably. "Are outlanders so rare?"

 Flatly, Scout Master Angwe Arcan says, "Every time they come here, they bring war and strife."

Scout Master Angwe Arcan looks thoughtful and says, "Save those in Delve... the Albedi continent is mostly held by the Dreikathi empire, though."

Lydiatha gives Angwe a level stare, raising a hand to touch the scar marring her features. "I've had enough of war, I think."

Tilting his head, Scout Master Angwe Arcan asks you, "Where is this land? Is it somewhere on Albedos?"

Shifting forward out of the hammock, Scout Master Angwe Arcan says, "Let me get a light on, get a better look at ye."

 Angwe stands up and stretches his arms out wide.

Angwe hums a soft melody and a feeling of warmth and comfort envelops you. Your spirits buoyed, you feel less vulnerable to harm.

 Angwe takes some wood and lights it with his tinderbox, causing it to erupt into a soothing fire.

The warmth of the merry campfire drains away your tensions and worries.

 Angwe sinks down into a crouch.

Lydiatha shakes her head. "I do not know Albedos. Ours was a wild country to the north. All I know is that the slavers journeyed several months to reach this land."

 "To the north," Angwe muses, the claw of his pinkie tap, tapping against his chin with a wooden sound.

You nod your head emphatically.

You say, "We were at sea for several months."

Scout Master Angwe Arcan says to you, "For my own benefit... this be no requirement. But I find that -very- interesting."

 Scout Master Angwe Arcan asks you, "Would ye... mind writing of your land some time?"

 You ask, "Writing of it?"

 Angwe nods his head affirmatively.

 "Once ye... get your feet under ye," Angwe says, a bit sheepish as his enthusiasm is reigned in.

 Angwe sits down on a kuzu vine hammock.

 Angwe coughs into his hand and relaxes back into a reclined position, sticking his hooves right through the netting of the hammock. "How long have ye been here in Sapience?"

Angwe shifts into a reclined posture.

 A pause, then, Scout Master Angwe Arcan says, "Ye can tell me if I'm asking too many questions."

Lydiatha looks thoughtful before digging her forefinger into the dirt, scratching out a few strange symbols into the dirt. "I don't think you can read my language," was her simple reply to his request. "No, its alright. Um, very recently. Possibly a month now."

 Angwe stokes the campfire and adds another piece of wood to the flame.

 Angwe watches your scribblings with interest, but ultimately grunts, dismissing them for now. "Ye speak common well," he notes.

Lydiatha nods with an impish grin. "I harassed the merchants and sailors to teach me different tongues when they made port in our village."

 "How did Aetolian common make its way up there?" Angwe says to himself, a bemused grin coming to his lips. "Our tongue does stretch far, surprisingly so."

Scout Master Angwe Arcan wryly says, "Even the Dreikathi invades knew it. Of course, in time we learned their tongue as well."

 You ask, "What were the Dreikathi like?"

The campfire dies down some and smolders more heavily.

With a final spark, the campfire goes dark and emits a large cloud of smoke.

Angwe shakes his head. "I dun know," he says. "They were driven off... a decade before I was prob'ly born."

Comprehension flashes across your face.

 Scout Master Angwe Arcan smiles with a wink and says to you, "I'm young for a Yeleni."

You raise an eyebrow questioningly.

You ask, "What's a Yeleni?"

Angwe sucks thoughtfully on his teeth.

 "That's a... complex question," Angwe says at length. "Basic answer is that a Yeleni is... vital. One who creates, rather than destroys. One half of a cycle, ye could say."

 Scout Master Angwe Arcan says, "On the other side of this cycle are the Destroyers, the Azudim."

Lydiatha raises her brows at that, a blank look on her face.

"When one reaches... extreme strength, a change occurs," Angwe explains. "They become -" Angwe clicks his tongue here, a cynical edge hardening his tone - "They become 'perfected'. They become what is called a Tekal, or Hollow One in the old Kalsu tongue."

Scout Master Angwe Arcan says, "Their physical form is made more perfect, but they lack. There is an emptiness inside them, one that little but essence can fill. How they go about gathering it is up to them."

You say, "Sounds like a hardship. People are not meant to be perfect. That is for the Divines."

The ghost of a smirk passes fleetingly over Angwe's lips as he glances at you.

 Scout Master Angwe Arcan says to you, "The gods are many things, far beyond we mortals... but even They are not perfect."

 Reverently, Scout Master Angwe Arcan says, "Save perhaps Lord Varian, the Celestine."

 You say, "Your gods are different than my people's. Mine like to huff about and boast they are perfect."

 Angwe smiles wryly.

Scout Master Angwe Arcan says, "Lord Haern would likely be the first to tell ye He isn't perfect. But my Lord isn't one to bullshit with anyone."

You chuckle long and heartily.

 You ask, "Do your gods interact with Their mortals often?"

 Nodding, Scout Master Angwe Arcan says, "Aye. In fact, the Lord was speaking to His faithful as we did your test."

Scout Master Angwe Arcan says, "Some of Them are more recalcitrant."

Lydiatha furrows her brows before saying slowly, "I... do not know that word."

Angwe coughs softly.

 "Used it wrong anyhow, I think," Angwe murmurs, frowning. "Anyway, I meant some of them are more reserved and aloof."

 Scout Master Angwe Arcan says, "Some of them disappear for decades, wandering only They can know where."

 Scout Master Angwe Arcan says, "They can even die."

 Lydiatha nods solemly. "Our gods can die as well."

Scout Master Angwe Arcan asks you, "Did ye have a patron god?"

Scout Master Angwe Arcan says, "A personal one... one who you followed."

 Lydiatha seemed to think about that for a long moment. "Well, I lived in a fishing village, so we prayed to Njordr for bountiful nets and calm waters.""

 Angwe stands up and stretches his arms out wide.

 "I've kept ye long enough," Angwe says. "I've a desire to meditate and think on these things."

 With a slight nod, you demonstrate your understanding.

 Rubbing his chin, Scout Master Angwe Arcan says to you, "Tis an... interesting tale ye weave. I wish ye well in these lands."

 Bringing his right hand to his chest in a familiar gesture, Scout Master Angwe Arcan says, "Blessings of the Heartwood be on ye."

 Angwe eats some irid moss.

Angwe closes his eyes and begins to focus.

 Angwe chants rhythmically under his breath.

You say, "Be well."

You clench your right fist and pound your chest thrice in rapid succession, symbolizing the vibrant heart that beats within.





I would just like to say thank you to Angwe. As a new player, this was great and a lot of fun. Hope I didn't blunder about too badly. And thank you for putting up with me. I was making up everything as I went.

Angwe

I'm like... half-drunk and half-asleep right now, hence my emotes taking forever. What began as a one-off question quickly became stimulating RP, though.

Angwe was mostly made up on the fly, too, though I'd already learned the lore by then (2nd char). Little scenes like that are great for that stuff.

Anyway, thanks for putting up with (and editing out) my blunders! I look forward to more RP with you.

Moirean

Welcome to Aetolia! 

This was fun to read; thanks for sharing! Your emotes are engaging and your backstory is cool. My favorite line:

Lydiatha gives Angwe a level stare, raising a hand to touch the scar marring her features. "I've had enough of war, I think."

Lydiatha

@Angwe Editing out YOUR blunders? You made none! I edited out my own shame. lol I look forward to interacting with you again.

@Moirean Thanks so much!

Edhain

I really enjoyed reading this. Kudos on the simple yet interesting interaction, you guys.

Teani

Ah, always fun to see what Angwe is up to. Well done, both of you! And you'll do fine in the future, Lydiatha!