The Legend of Xenio (A song for Slyphe)

Voice reverberating like the howl of a maelstrom, @Slyphe bellows, "The next Spirean to try and convince Me they're really good deep down will not even be given the courtesy of a conversation before I feed them to My creatures. Let it be known."

(Spinesreach): @Atilus says, "I think it's safe to say he's not our fan."
(Spinesreach): @Kanivara says, "Do I even want to know why we have citizens speaking to That?"
(Spinesreach): Atilus says, "Wasn't me."

You shout, "But I am good deep down! I'm good at singing!"

Kanivara tells you, "Don't."
You tell Kanivara, "Oh but I must."
Kanivara tells you, "Just leave the Yelling Puddle alone."
You tell Kanivara, "But I must!"

Message #499 Sent By: @Stahl Received On: 10/18/2016/22:48
"Hush, Pug! Don't go pestering That Thing."

Ser @Nenelos Sor'Tirivan, the Executioner's voice resonates across the land, "Can't attest to being 'good' deep down. But I'm good at what I do and that counts for something!"

Kanivara tells you, "Your racial honor is not at stake, don't worry."

@Kheese Tanvir's voice resonates across the land, "I request something with more of a spine, and large teeth."

(Spinesreach): @Xenia says, "I assure you the Maelstrom's arse is no place anyone should be sticking their nose."

You shout, "I would offer a song in your honour, Maelstrom, if you will offer my city a boon in exchange."

(Spinesreach): Atilus says, "Does anyone else see a city hex coming?"
(Spinesreach): Nenelos says, "I'm braced for it."

Officer Kanivara Sor'Tirivan-Talfileir's voice resonates across the land, "Here's how You get the city to annoy You en-masse: Shout something like that. Goes for pretty much everybody. Don't want to hear Spireans? Don't rattle our gates."

(Spinesreach): You say, "Where's your sense of fun!"
(Spinesreach): You say, "You ain't even heard my song. It's glorious."
(Spinesreach): Atilus says, "Can we not get hexed? I'm sooo closed to Azudim. I need my ability."

Kanivara has been brutally consumed by a monstrous squid.

(Spinesreach): You say, "...Rest in pieces, Senator."
(Spinesreach): Atilus says, "OK so serious question, was she off hunting squid or is our city under the attack of giant squid now."

Kheese Tanvir's voice resonates across the land, "Something smells a little fishy."

(Spinesreach): Xenia says, "I've seen enough of what the Malstrom does and I'm not exactly thrilled to have His attention brought our way."
(Spinesreach): @Kelliara says, "Mmph?"
(Spinesreach): Kelliara says, "What is this noise?"
(Spinesreach): You say, "Citizens be try'na warn me I ought not offer the Maelstrom my song..."
(Spinesreach): You say, "They's doubting my abilities, Your Chairliness!"

The rushing sound of waves breaking upon a shore fills your mind as Slyphe imparts to you, "You. Little miss singer. Do you know where Libec Cay is?"
You tell Slyphe, "Yes mister! Or ma'am. I ain't sure what Your preferred form of address is."
You tell Slyphe, "Why, I spent the better years of me childhood in Libec Cay."
The rushing sound of waves breaking upon a shore fills your mind as Slyphe imparts to you, "Maelstrom, dear. Come here, with your song, and let Me hear it. If it pleases Me, I'll let you leave. If not, you're food for My creatures, and your city stands to be hexed."

(Spinesreach): Xenia says, "All I'm saying is if He plagues us with crabs, seadogs and salt water in my fountain again, I will be very displeased."

You tell Slyphe, "Oh. Well uh... that don't sound a very fair deal, Mister Maelstrom!"

(Spinesreach): Kheese says, "Maybe he will turn your booze into water."

[ Against her better judgement, Nia does indeed go to Libec Cay, and is summoned before Slyphe as soon as she arrives on the shore. ]

The massive turtle slows to a coast as it nears an enormous dock just off to your left.
You gingerly step down onto the dock from the back of the turtle, who shortly after releases another low cry before turning and vanishing off into the distance once more.
Dock's end over the ocean. (Libec Cay.)
Sunset falls upon the arid landscape, the reddish light filtering across the horizon. Only somewhat more rickety than the base secured directly into the ground at its beginning, the dock comes to an abrupt end here overlooking the ocean just inches below. A series of posts have been haphazardly placed along its length in an attempt to provide a steady place for ship ropes to be secured to, while overhead a flickering torch affixed to a light post allows ample light to suffuse that of the moonlight during the night. Depicting a Consanguine man's head crushed under a zealot woman's foot, a golden statue has been erected here. A bright conch shell sits here affixed to a marble podium. Shifting and churning restlessly, crystalline sylph is here.
You see a single exit leading north.

Slyphe, the Maelstrom yells, "Come here, little Imp."

You are transported by the power of the Divine.
Before the Maelstrom's throne. (Libec Cay.)
Opening from the hall to the south, this massive chamber is left relatively open to the elements, the only walls within the room standing to the north and south, separating the chamber from the sanctums towards the north and other areas of the temple to the south. Large columns of stone rise along the eastern and western extremes of the room, supporting the ceiling which has been painstakingly painted to resemble the night sky above Libec Cay. A small pool of rippling seawater is set near to the throne. Keladorn, captain of the temple guard stands watch here, trident at the ready. Covered by an ever-shifting veil of seawater, a large throne resembling a rising torrent of water sits here. Resting upon a tall pedestal, a set of conch shells shine brightly here. Water violently swirling about Its form, Slyphe, the Maelstrom is here.
You see exits leading north, northeast, south, and northwest.

Your shroud dissipates and you return to the realm of perception.
Your shroud defence has been stripped.

Drips of water run down your soaked body, winding downwards towards your feet.

"There we go." Slyphe lounges back in His throne, stretching Her neck to one side. "That's much better, isn't it?" It gazes up at the ceiling overhead, rolling His shoulders idly.

"Well that was nifty!" Nia exclaims, peering about the place. When she realises she stands in front of Slyphe, her carmine eyes widen. "Ooh," she says. Quickly, she bows, tipping her flamboyantly plumed Imp's cavalier hat.

l Slyphe
It is an Immortal and stands at a tall but ever-shifting height, and Its build is distinctively Kelki. Beyond this, however, little can be told of It. At one moment, Its build is powerful and mighty; at another, sleek and agile, though the change itself cannot be glimpsed from moment to moment. There is an androgyny to Its build, from Its feet up to Its proud features — angular, sleek, and strong, and Its eyes a hue of sea green. Its flesh is a deep, oceanic blue, tattoos spiralling across Its frame in full — chest, legs, arms, webbed hands, and face, ending in sharp spirals and depictions of the many creatures of the sea abounding upon Its flesh.
(leaving Its upper body bare) : a partial suit of bronze chainmail
(covering Its feet) : a pair of worked sharkskin boots
(worn upon Its forearm) : an engraved metallic arm piece

You tell Kelliara, "Good news! I been tasked t'perform the song you commissioned before the Maelstrom itself."
Kelliara tells you, "Why is that good news?"
You tell Kelliara, "It's great news! I always wanted to be a famous singer."

A series of barks precedes a massive, shark-mutated warhound as it bounds into the room.
A massive, shark-mutated warhound barks loudly and drops a Slyphian firework into your hands.

A massive, shark-mutated warhound turns its snout up and barks before bounding away.

Xenia tells you, "In case you do get that audience with Him."
You tell Xenia, "It's standing right in front of me. Thanks ma'am. What do I do with it?"
Xenia tells you, "Light it up."

p firework
Shaped in a tight, compact sphere, this firework is a deep sea-blue. In golden letters, the name "SLYPHE" has been printed about the packaging. At the flat bottom, a long, thin block of wood has been attached to the sphere, allowing the firework to be stuck securely into the ground before being lit.
It has 11 weeks of usefulness left.
It weighs 10 ounce(s).
It bears the distinctive mark of Xenia Seirath-Vetra.

Slyphe squares Its gaze upon you, hunching forward in Its throne. Its bronze chainmail gives faint clicks and clanks as it shifts over His frame, and He considers the Imp. "It's been a long, long while since one of My dead Sister's children has stood before Me," She rumbles. She folds Her webbed hands together. "Let Me hear this song, and remember what you are singing for."

As the mutated hound, Whaleclaw, comes barking in, Nia turns her head inquisitively, giving him a friendly pat on the head as she retrieves a Slyphian firework. "Yes Your Tempestuousness," the Imp says to Slyphe obsequiously. "It's truly an honour to have the audience of one such as You. Big dream of mine, personally, believe me. I might not have been the best attendant during me years growing up here on this isle, after Delos went all topsy-turvy... but rest assured, never did forget! You made a great impression. Ahem." It's some time before she cuts her chipper ramble short, but eventually she does, and proceeds to rummage in her bag to somehow produce a variegated Imp-sized cello of reclaimed wood. After dusting it off, she moves to take a seat at the edge of a pool of rippling seawater, and cradles the instrument in her lap, as though it were a guitar.

You start to wield a variegated Imp-sized cello of reclaimed wood in your left hand.

You start to wield a turtle-shaped parasol in your right hand.
You open a turtle-shaped parasol.

"Glad to hear it," Slyphe remarks, affably, but afterward, It says nothing - It merely cranes forward, immense shoulders folding inward. His eyes trail over the Imp cello, and Her lips purse. Silent and still, like the waiting ocean, It gazes upon you, the tips of Its toes reaching the opposite side of the pool of rippling seawater. Keladorn, captain of the temple guard maintains a cautious eye, but a gesture from the Deity is enough to stop him. He, too, watches, wary and indecisive.

Offering Keladorn, captain of the temple guard a sheepish grin, Nia starts to strum the strings of a variegated Imp-sized cello of reclaimed wood. It's experimental, at first, and her inexperience shows, but gradually her fingers find a melody. It's haunting and deep, like the ocean itself, and each chord is accompanied by fingers drumming against the reclaimed wood before she starts to sing:

You sing, "Riding through the City of Spires,"
You sing, "With a warhound at his side,"
You sing, "With hair forged in Ethne's red fires,"
You sing, "And the Keep behind his stride."

You sing, "There is a legend whispered,"
You sing, "Of a man even Gods fear."
You sing, "A man who was delivered,"
You sing, "In the depths of those crags there."

A laugh echoes from Slyphe's throat, a low and hearty sound. He sits back, relaxing, Her fingers drumming upon the arms of the throne.

Nia's tune kicks up the pace, the strumming becoming visceral. She lunges on into the bawdy ballad, tilting back her horned, ostrich-plumed head to sing the chorus in a coarse voice:

You sing, "All men want to be him,"
You sing, "All women to be his,"
You sing, "For though his manner grim,"
You sing, "Unbroken his spell is."

You sing, "If his name I told you,"
You sing, "If his name I told you true,"
You sing, "I fear I'd have to kill you,"
You sing, "'Afore he killed me too."

A smile lingers on Slyphe's face - She laughs no more, but listens, His eyebrows raised.

At this portion of the song, Nia's abashed smile turns towards Slyphe, apologetic and cheeky. She shrugs, mouthing, 'It's in the song!' As she proceeds, the melody returns to its more haunting, deeper state, equally sanguine but filled with foreshadow.

You sing, "He clawed his way out of the rock,"
You sing, "Embers in his eyes shone,"
You sing, "With his rise a gyrfalcon flock,"
You sing, "Declared a tempest born."

You sing, "Here our tale thickens, dear listeners,"
You sing, "So lean your ear in close:"
You sing, "For when heard Slyphe of these blasphemers,"
You sing, "The Maelstrom's envy rose."

Mindful of her audience, Nia leans back just a touch, and attempts to recuperate with a return to the jaunty, triumphant chorus.

You sing, "All men want to be him,"
You sing, "All women to be his,"
You sing, "For though his manner grim,"
You sing, "Unbroken his spell is."

You sing, "If his name I told you,"
You sing, "If his name I told you true,"
You sing, "I fear I'd have to kill you,"
You sing, "'Afore he killed me too."

Rather than at Slyphe, Nia directs this reprisal of the chorus at Keladorn, captain of the temple guard, quirking her eyebrows in another brief, self-amused apology. She then looks back at Slyphe, and her tune turns a touch more serious, supplemented with a drumming of her hands flat against the variegated wood.

You sing, "To these crags, the great Sea God swept,"
You sing, "Summoning storms in Its wake."
You sing, "The warhound wailed as dark clouds wept,"
You sing, "Swooning Spirean hearts ached."

Another small laugh breaks from Slyphe — Keladorn, captain of the temple guard's expression shifts, minutely, as he tries valiantly not to laugh.

Attempting to feign a fierce, pompous expression with pug-like features, clearly impersonating someone else's voice, you sing, "'I fear you not, bent Ol' Fish King,'"
You sing, "Scoffed our tempestuous legend,"
You sing, "'These crags are mine, and ev'rything,'"
You sing, "'In these lands is my will to bend.'"

"Ohohoho," Slyphe chuckles, Her hands lacing together. "Someone's in trouble," She remarks, aside, to Keladorn, captain of the temple guard. She's met with an agreeable nod from the captain.

Nia draws back her lips in a 'whoopsie-daisy' sort of expression, but her upbeat manner remains. The tune, however, is a different story: though she plays the same chords for the chorus in queue, upselling the desirability of the unnamed hero, this time she does not sing the words to it. As it draws back towards the main verse, it turns more chaotic, like a maelstrom itself, discordant notes crashing upon each other. The Imp flicks her fingernails against the cello's brass endpin, adding a metallic clink to the percussion.

You sing, "The Stormcaller was right in his boast,"
You sing, "And even the Ocean Lord knew it."
You sing, "For lacking in power far from coast."
You sing, "It had only rain and outmatched wit."

You sing, "It threw Its trident down in vengeance,"
You sing, "And struck the crag-lord's hound."
You sing, "It churned Its tides and that dog's essence,"
You sing, "And thus the creature drowned."

The chorus returns, unlike before, but this time it's far less bawdy. Nia frowns, her expression rueful, and croons the celebratory words in mourning:

You sing, "All men want to be him,"
You sing, "All women to be his,"
You sing, "For though his manner grim,"
You sing, "Unbroken his spell is."

You sing, "If his name I told you,"
You sing, "If his name I told you true,"
You sing, "I fear I'd have to kill you,"
Slyphe, the Maelstrom sings, "'AFORE HE KILLED ME TOO!"

Nia giggles merrily as Slyphe sings the last line of the chorus, giving out a loud cheer. She punches her fist in the air in celebration, throwing It a wink.

Nia's tune draws to a gradual close. She clinks her fingernails against the brass endpin again, drumming the wood and pressing down the shark-gut strings simultaneously. Meant to be played with a bow, the sound is not as clean as it otherwise would be, but produces an eerie, ever-changing echo that fits the nature of the song.

You sing, "If you climb up to Stormcaller Crag,"
You sing, "You'll see where it all happened."
You sing, "Victory marked with Carnifex flags,"
You sing, "But in mem'ry ever blackened."

You sing, "He's riding through the City Spires,"
You sing, "With Whaleclaw now at his side,"
You sing, "His hair forged in Ethne's red fires,"
You sing, "And the Keep behind his stride."

Trailing the strings, Nia smiles no longer, focused on completing the song. Then, unexpectedly, she swerves a turtle-shaped parasol, and throws a Slyphian firework up in the air.



In a soft whisper, Nia completes the song: "The legend of Xenio." Dipping her flamboyantly plumed Imp's cavalier hat, but remaining seated at the edge of a pool of rippling seawater, she bows.

Slyphe's head cranes back, taking in the show in full. With a laugh of delight, He brings His hands together, applauding firmly — the thunderclaps of Her mighty fingers ring out, drowning out even the explosion of the firework itself. "Bravo!" It cries, bestowing a sunny, toothy grin upon you.

Peering out from underneath a turtle-shaped parasol, Nia cocks her horned head to one side, tentatively looking up at Slyphe in full. "So You is pleased, Maelstrom?" the Imp asks, righting her variegated Imp-sized cello of reclaimed wood on its endpin.

"An excellent performance," Slyphe enthuses. "I was," She admits, pulling a face and looking aside, "Still going to hex Spinesreach anyway, just for fun, but the firework?" He lets a webbed hand waver in the air side to side before concluding: "The firework was what took it above and beyond the usual. As a result," the Deity informs you, "Your city will NOT receive seven years of crabs in its water supply."

"Aww." Nia's shoulders start to droop, but it doesn't appear to take much to lift the Imp's spirits anew, and she soon straightens up to clap and cheer when Slyphe informs that the hex will not provide seven full years of crabs. "Good good! Because everyone there's got crabs anyway, so that wouldn't do You much good anyway!" she enthuses.

(Spinesreach): You say, "Good news, Spinesreach!"
(Spinesreach): You say, "The Maelstrom liked my song! It's agreed not to hex us with seven years of crabs in our water supply."
(Spinesreach): @Hugo says, "Who drinks water?"
(Spinesreach): @Drestyn says, "We do. We use it to make alcohol."
(Spinesreach): Hugo says, "Using an ingredient does not make it the same thing."
(Spinesreach): Drestyn says, "You want me to come over there and use you as a still, Hugo?"
(Spinesreach): Hugo says, "How much gold yah got?"
(Spinesreach): Drestyn says, "I got a hammer that I'll use in place of gold and your head in place of your hand."
(Spinesreach): Hugo says, "You mean your hand, using me as a still implies you were eventually going to drain me."

Rising to Its immense feet, Slyphe stares down upon you. A massive hand rises to Its chin, and It cradles Its face, lips pursing. "And you," the Deity rumbles, "Shall receive a blessing for the song. You are Spirean, but you are welcome in Libec Cay at any time, Imp. Feel free to roam throughout, but as for Me..." She spirals in on Herself, His limbs losing definition: "The current draws Me onward." It surges forward and past you, little more than streams of water and essence, coursing past almost too quickly to be properly seen.

Slyphe's form bursts into a torrent of water that washes over the area violently until it disperses and They are gone.

Slyphe, the Maelstrom has bestowed a divine blessing upon you. It will last for 1 day.

Nia wipes her forehead with relief, beaming happily. At Keladorn, captain of the temple guard, she winks.

Keladorn, captain of the temple guard winks knowingly at you.