Talinvor (prime)
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Tah’lon Vorrith, or otherwise known as Talinvor, is a Dhe'nar bard and Lorekeeper of the noble Warlock Caste in his home city of Sharath. Named in honor of Tahlad, he is a follower of The Way, a faith that reveals that the Arkati were teachers, and like his forbear Noi'sho'rah – that all elves are welcome back into the fold. He currently resides in Ta'Illistim, where once he was paying the coffee shop owner for the use of her couch. Due to the city's former dark elf restrictions, he was more often found sleeping under the stars or other clever places in the city where he could find lodging and how he learned to appreciate it's beauty. Only recently has the elven cities begun to open up to his kind and he believes he may be personally responsible for pushing the Argent Mirror, Myasara into taking more grounded action in this regard.
He is known more popularly by his stage name of Talinvor, which he claims is easier to pronounce for the elves. It is a portmanteau of his first name and his bloodline. He still spends most of his time in Ta'Illistim, where he had taken up a role as a delegate to the Argent Mirror's court. In Koaratos 5119, he was recognized for his assistance in an alliance (see: Valley of Gold) between the Argent Mirror and the Tamzyrrian emperor, Aurmont Chandrennin Anodheles and awarded a blue ribboned blooming vaalin rose medal (see: Ta'Illistim Awards) in recognition of his efforts. While not particularly of a political nature, Talinvor recognizes the opportunity to continue to demonstrate his bardic talent and otherwise enlighten the elves to his faith. Other times, he can be found among the members of Moonshine Manor in Wehnimer's Landing, or performing with The Black Iron Chalice in Solhaven.
Talinvor is often critical of his own work, as most artists are and he complains quietly of not having the dedication and time for him to maintain his attention on his prose. As a bard, Talinvor's specialty is in matters of the heart – where the strongest strings can be cut or tied. Quite vain, he uses his charm and wit quite often. He usually attempts to see the bigger picture, and like chess – is always trying to determine who will win. He is typically bored easily with emotionally driven people, as they often put their faith in fickle things and stubbornly cling to their own skewed perceptions of the world.
History
Born in Sharath, he doesn’t know his true year of birth as such things are not celebrated by his people. He is a blood twin to Surion, a Duk’sa of the Warrior Caste. (see Origins:[1]) In demeanor, they are complete opposites. While Talinvor enjoys attention, revels in social affairs and glories in the spotlight – his brother shuns them; finding the comfort of the wilds and the company of creatures to be more reliable and honest in intent. They are stereotypical Dhe'nar for their noble castes.
The two of them have a strained relationship though. Although it is Surion's duty to support Talinvor, he feels the long shadow cast by his more charismatic brother. He has grown resentful despite (or maybe because of) the many times Talinvor has manipulated circumstances to protect him during the various trials and tribulations forced by the castes. Surion has since isolated himself, with only the company of his black panther, Khadesh.
The Warlock Caste of Sharath ordered Talinvor to travel north in order to keep an eye on a rogue branch of Dhe'nar, that left their designated caste duties. While the Obsidian Tower is a mere outpost, and of little influence at home, the word of Noi'sho'rah and enlightenment of the masses was the shouldered burden assigned to him as one of the most talented Lorekeepers of the current age. While still affiliated with the Tower, Talinvor has decided to press his influence on his own merits, so as not to be overshadowed by the actions of others.
Relationships
It is hard to imagine that Talinvor was once in love. A Dhe'nari woman of the Warrior Caste was to whom he had given his heart. This coupling was unapproved by the priestesses of the Temple Caste, who rule the Dhe'nar bloodlines. Whether offspring would have been magically inclined or not, didn’t matter. The fact it was not sanctioned, gave the priestesses the opportunity to put both through a series of tests that were designed with a purposeful high chance of failure for the sake of disobeying. (see: The Star of Sharath (poetry))
Talinvor was sent to Ta'Faendryl, to masquerade within the courts and survive their dangerous political rivalries. (see Tales of a Dhe’nar Bard [2] and Her Eyes are Pools of Liquid Night (poetry) ) His love, was sent to the Sea of Fire to acquire an object of legend, thought to be a source of power in Bir Mahallah. With his task ultimately successful, news reached his ears that hers was not and that her body was lost to the sands. Thereafter, he styled himself a dirge-singer and wandered the world in his anguish. (see: Black Ash Tree (poetry)) After many years, and after a renewed application of 'skill training' in Sharath – he reapplied his talents not only in service to his city, but mainly to himself. He became hedonistic as a result – enjoying what the world offered while he still existed within it. (see: Dissemblance (poetry), Night's Symphony (poetry) )
He has had shira'qa, which means “pet” in the Dhe'narsi language. These non-dhe'nar servitors learn to take on the role of companion, hunting partner, muse, servant and entertainer for a time. He's had many over the long lifespan of an elf, most notably he’s possessed the collar of Raziya, an elf he met in River’s Rest (circa 5103); Kayse (prime), an aelotoi - whom he possessed twice (circa 5104 & 5115) and Sylverose, a sylvan who was literally handed to him to help protect her from herself (circa 5116). He has also possessed the Faendryl Berkana (prime) who was quite the prize and whom he enjoyed the company of for several years (circa 5116-5118). For two years afterwards, he did not have a shira'qa, thinking he was finally done with the effort of training another. It was not until he met the bardess Landrai, a Loenthran elf that he attracted the attention of in the Ta'Illistim court that this changed, and who has been his constant companion since late 5119.
His first-born attitudes have made traditional relationships impossible. He finds Dhe'nari women so cold and resentful in life that he finds them depressing. Other races have demonstrated a liveliness that he enjoys as a bard, but the inbred sense of superiority he possesses – disallows relationships of equality and the devastation of losing his first love has deterred him from allowing himself to truly fall in love once again. Instead he embraces his hedonistic tendencies, which often raise an eyebrow in certain companies that still cling to social moralities.
Academics, Poetry and Songs
Lessons of Sharath
Lectures
Poetry
- The Star of Sharath (poem)
- Black Ash Tree (poetry)
- Guile (poetry)
- Her Eyes are Pools of Liquid Night (poetry)
- Dissemblance (poetry)
- Night's Symphony (poetry)
- Shira'qa's Kiss (explicit innuendo content)
Songs
| Songs for the Elven Court |
| The Argent Mirror
A quick poem on the spot, as the Argent Mirror requested poetry The peacock throne, wondrous beauty does rule
The Shining City, Elven Jewel
Sunset colour her hair
Eyes of heaven's gaze
Her voice like whispered musical array
May I see this sight once more
Another gift of words from this troubadour
~Talinvor
A poem given to the Argent Mirror, to better fulfil his earlier promise. Ten and five years ago, reflections upon the deed
Of a peoples recompense of need
Tradition holds to charity
Giving peace and clarity
Shining city, brightly glows
Amid the ladies talk of clothes
Acceptance has granted knowledges' bloom
Even in the darkest gloom
Despite the cries of faithless souls
Has not kept her from her goals
Once again to see beyond
What hate and prejudice has spawned
Jewel upon the crown of lore
Fearful of a state of war
Grants an equal measure of
Support for those she stands above
For in the mirror her reflections gaze
Judges all at the end of days
History remarks in remembered lore
Myasara,
Keeper of Elanthia's accord
~Talinvor
Set for a challenge to sing about the language of flowers (set by the handmaidens) and a positive city viewpoint (by Myasara). Talinvor discovered all the handmaiden's preferred flowers, but instead focused on a song for Sayilla, whose flower burdock/thistle he picked for her. Her uncle was displeased with Talinvor's attention to her, and drawing out her desire to see the world. This song was performed in the Elven Court for Sayilla's departure to Ta'Loenthra, as her very first venture outside the city walls where she had always been cloistered. He admitted that he would not forget her, even if he couldn't see her again.
I walked along the moonlit streets
The stones a’glowing pale
Icons of the artistry
Delicate and frail
The shining spires, city-scaped
Had caught my storm wrought eyes
Wanderer to gaze upon
Learn’ed elven prize
The stories of such far-off lands
Were rarely ever spun
Iconic Ta’Illistim
Sapphire of the sun
And center to it all I found
Amid the em’rald green
Maidens and the ladies of
Quality esteem
Their silks they ruffled as they came
And gathered all around
Engaged in a careless chat
To my ears confound
They spoke of such favors given
By courtly gentle-men
Messages in the flowers
And if genuine
I listened with an idle ear
To giggles and the sighs
I barely understood it
Then I rolled my eyes
In my mind I wished to confirm
If words were better sought
In prose or soft serenades
Or feats were for naught
And so my ego boasted of
My skills to match the two
Language of the flowers
To maidens and to you
Days to weeks they lingered
Maidens' flowers I forgot
But yours I did recall
Chosen with little thought
The purple flower blossoms
Upon the thorn'ed spheres
I thought it was your nature
Raillery of peers
It was not the burdocks sharpness
For that is not the pain
Instead you adhered yourself
A captured refrain
The softest touch and concerned gaze
You have for those you know
Captured your sweet memory
While you’re off to grow
~Talinvor
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Vignettes
Mist Harbor
Clipped Wings (QST)
A Morning After Dawn (Player Vignette) (01/11/2020)
| Originally posted on the official forums by INSPADES on 01/11/2020 at 03:39 PM CST. |
| The sun was already up, the annoying brightness waking him for the third time already this morning. He yawned and stretched, his muscles thanking him as he turned to thump his feet to the floor. A sleepy figure shifted next to him, pulling the blankets back over her head. He turned briefly, his lips quirked into a wry grin. Standing up with his eyes half closed, he swaggered over to a small room adjoined to his bedroom with a gait that was anything but straight. Closing the privacy curtain behind him he gazed out one of several small windows that were open. Despite the glaring light he was afforded a tranquil view as thoughts drifted to the previous night’s pleasantries.
The serenity of the moment was lost as the sound of a tea kettle whistled next door - his neighbor. Groaning, his eyes closed shut and rolled in his head as he began to relieve himself. The force of the stream hit the back the chamber pot with the urgency that only a late night of drinking could summon. The tea kettle’s insistent cry continued as he shifted, sustaining his pent up stream. Dismissing the irritation of the kettle, a wave of relief washed over him as he opened his eyes and his wry grin returned. Looking down he seemed impressed with himself for the persistence of his stream. All good things coming to an end, and with both hands he put himself away. Washing and drying his hands at a nearby washbasin to complete the morning ritual, he returned to his bedroom. Glancing over at the feminine curve of the sheets as they clung to his bed’s occupant, he considered returning. Being already awake and fighting off the urge, he drifts over to a large desk laden with papers: Mostly half written song lyrics, epic tales in the works, and the occasion purchase for the Chalice. Slumping into the chair he pours himself a glass of blood wine and begins sifting among the papers. Retrieving a small notebook, and leafing through the pages he noted several events, meetings within the Elven court, and even the occasional gig. Stopping at today's date he leans back in the chair contemplating the bold word written in red ink. His lips pursed to a thin line, and he nodded to himself. "So it shall be done," he whispered to himself, as it was indeed time to get on with it. As soft murmur coming from his bed's occupant enticed him, calling him back. Musing to himself, “surely there is time for a quick dalliance before business” as he strides back to his bed. Collapsing upon it, the figure beside him stirred seductively, rolled toward him and snuggled against his bare chest. |
The Arrival of Children (Player Vignette) (01/12/2020)
| Originally posted on the official forums by INSPADES on 01/12/2020 at 07:19 PM CST. |
| The last few days had been busier than usual, coordinating on behalf of the Flock the necessary supplies to run this boarding school. It rather jumped being a simple orphanage, once education was required. He admitted he was probably the best qualified, and despite initial grousing about dealing with whining children - he acquiesced. After all, he was expected to contribute - and he was an expert. He’d lost track of how many Dhe’nar students he’d had over the years, and if anyone could deal with discipline, it was him.
His orders for food from the cafes and diners were off schedule, but the owners were happy for the extra business he brought regularly and the coin he brought. He paid them extra for their discretion, having the goods shipped to his shop and transported from there. The staff at Luna’s Rest were particularly pleased to see him, as he put forth his regular purchase of bloodwine from the backroom by the case. He was pleased that his arrangement with the owner was finally able to import one of his favorite labels and he always made sure he did not let that convenience go to waste. He’d been given specific instructions on the delivery of the children. He had to wait. Which he did, to his irritation. He paced back and forth wondering what the Flock had done to finally convince Greth and Penre to relinquish them. Despite every single reason to remind them they were not safe - they were both stubborn in their desire to help. Talinvor shut his eyes, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his fingers. A wagon had arrived with more than a handful of children and several brutish looking individuals. It wasn’t yet dawn, and looking up at the sky for a moment - seemed like it was still a few hours away. He stifled a yawn, and masked his irritation of having to deal with this at such an early hour. Striding up to the contingent, he could see the children were afraid - and he flicked his grey eyes at the largest of the men. “How incompetent,” he glowered. “By the looks of it, you dragged them here.” Dismissing them, he knew immediately he would need to fix this. His eyes met on the spindly giantkin girl he remembered from before. The one that scooped up Faerinn’s socks and not candy. Smart girl. Removing his hood, he smiled in the most charming way he could manage - which as a bard is quite good. He approached the girl and offered his hand. “I must apologize on behalf of these buffoons,” he crooned. “You should have been left to make you own choice, though since you are here, I encourage you to at least see what I have to offer - clean water, comfortable beds, new clothes and the best food to be found in all of Mist Harbor,” he added. “There was concern for your welfare, and you were indeed wise to not trust Greth.” The girl clenched the hand of her sister for reassurance, but nodded. Talinvor grinned again, his words and reassurances putting them under his charm. He gestured toward the building with a grandiose sweep of his arm. As the children started to head toward the door, Talinvor bared his teeth and growled at the men as soon as the children were out of earshot. “You almost made my job harder,” he seethed but then caught himself. He began to hum between his words, “You should forget this place, what you did here tonight. Go back to your homes.” One after the other began to blink, but he continued his charm and humming as they each turned back the way they came until he could no longer see them. Turning, he jogged back to the children who were milling about at the door, and he captured the handle and opened it before them. “Welcome to your new home, children” he replied, his voice dropping to a silken whisper that only they could hear. |
Shattered Glass (Player Vignette) (01/17/2020)
| Originally posted on the official forums by INSPADES on 01/17/2020 at 12:56 AM CST. |
| Talinvor swept easily through the door of his home, closing it swiftly behind him. His grin was barely curled on his lips as he poured himself a glass of bloodwine and sipped. The coppery tang sweetened the sides of his tongue as he swallowed. His eyes closed briefly, and the semblance of a growl erupted from his throat.
With a roar, he hurled his glass at the wall where it left a white mark of explosion - the bloodwine spattered halfway across the room with the force of his anger. Stalking to his desk, he swept his carefully organized papers with his arm - scattering them in a whirlwind of aggravation. His favorite inkpot rolled onto the floor and under his bed, the ink trailing a line of red. He punched the wall, yet the hard stone would not relent and he only managed to jangle the manacles that hung there. His eyes caught a glimpse of his reflection, and he strode over to the mirror with the intention to smash it too. His fist raised, he noticed the trickle of blood on his knuckles and paused to stare at his own reflection. “What are you doing?!” the reflection asked. “I’m the one who loses their temper.” “I know brother,” Talinvor muttered, shaking out his injured hand. “Why are you angry?” the reflection asked in the voice of Talinvor’s twin. “Plans gone awry?” Talinvor’s reply was a long drawn out seethe of words as he paced. His hands angrily expressing his frustration. “Eii. Children have been abandoned to my protection, The Flockmaster makes arrangements with Faendryl which seems to have backfired, the town is in turmoil that now I have to satiate. The Flockmaster reveals secrets which we are supposed to distract from, and he still seems to trust a woman who left him for dead.” “It sounds as though your Flockmaster is a problem,” the reflection answered back. Talinvor’s crooked grin returned, but slowly. “Eii, he is.” Talinvor’s reflection grinned back, sharp white teeth behind black lips. “Something should be done, neh?” “So it should, brother,” Talinvor replied, “So it should.” |
Mist Harbor
All That Remains (QST)
Artifact Scar (Player Vignette) (05/21/2020)
| Originally posted on the official forums by INSPADES on 0/21/2020 at 10:40 PM CST. |
| For the third time, the needle prodded against the crystal embedded in Talinvor's temple and for the third time, his teeth attempted to crush the leather wrapped stick to stifle a scream of pain. The painstealer had been thorough with her preparation of her patient, buckling down his limbs so that he thrashed helplessly on the table as she tested the crystal's supposed magic.
"Now, now Tah'lon. You volunteered for this experimentation, remember," she consoles, even as she prods the crystal again - sending a shock-wave of pain through his body. "I think I am as curious as you now about what this thing is in your head. My theory was correct though," she continues as she gazes at him impassively and ignores the trickle of blood that seeps down his cheek. "It causes far more pain when I try to manipulate it while on Mist Harbor," she remarks almost teasingly. The painstealer grins, leaning over Talinvor's face and presses her fingers against his newly opened scar. He stares at her and curls his lips upward in a feral growl, knowing that she was enjoying every precious moment of this. Turning away, the painstealer pivoted to the table and jotted more notes into a dogeared journal. His eyes flicked to where she stood, weighing her value on any further discovery. He had come to her, initially. His trip to Sharath after the betrayal of Selbi was meant to find the trigger to this newly gained magic. An Artifact, she called it. Selbi was plain on that word, and how she admitted to have powered it with emotion. The Flock's emotion, she claimed. "Odd," he remembered suddenly. Socius' magic was also triggered through emotion - losing memory every time he flew into a rage. "I'm not sure he faked that,” he thought to himself. “But it doesn't seem to affect me the same." "It's not affecting you the same, clearly," the painstealer remarked as if she'd heard him, but continued her train of thought. "You've mentioned that certain pitches can cause a wave of pain not dissimilar to literally touching it." Pausing, she lowers her voice to an almost conspiratorial whisper "Have you told anyone else about this?" Talinvor spit out the stick and it clattered to the floor. Stretching his jaw in a wide yawn, he grunted dissent. "Neh. If that got around, I'm sure there would be afternoon teas everywhere," he smirked - knowing that little tidbit would spread like wildfire. "And don't you dare tell anyone else," he growled. The painstealer rolled her eyes, ignoring his threat. "Magic is often tied to bloodline," she lectured. "As Dhe'nar, you are well aware of this. Some things will be more effective or ineffective, depending on the purpose of the magical item, or in this case - an Artifact which was previously claimed to have tied specifically into Socius' power and the Island itself." Nodding in his restraints, he added to the painstealer's theory. "So is it possible that Selbi may have just assumed it would be as effective on us? I've not heard anything from the elf or halfling, but the human certainly acts like he's gained power." "Eii, it's possible - Socius was human also, so you say. And there may be some sort of connection between the two, even a faint one that could have tickled some latent power." The painstealer's eyes flicked to Talinvor's restraints and then back at her tools before sighing. "It's also possible that Selbi lied entirely about this crystal having any power at all, and it is just some geological anomaly. I ~could~ experiment more..." her lips curled back into a wry grin. "You did say that she's the one that likely arranged the children's kidnapping, and apparently worked with Socius to kill off the thugs that were likely bribed into the whole thing. It's possible this is just another elaborate trickery." "Eii, no need to rub it in," he scoffed as he turned his head away from her. "I should have realized from the beginning. I was set on trying to discover whatever this new magic Socius seemed to have, and simply roped myself into mundane things in order to get closer to that goal. It was worth the risk to walk away with a fragment of what could have been, even if it wasn't the way I wanted." He shifted in his bindings, the metal of the buckles clacking against the wood. "Can you remove it?" Talinvor's voice lowered to reflect his question as a demand, but halted the weave of compulsion behind it. The painstealer frowned, and shook her head. "I'm afraid, sho'nah* that this magic is human wrought. Given further study, and as far from Mist Harbor as possible - we can probably remove it. I do not know the long term effect though. At best right now, I can dampen the pain and gradually erase most of the scar. Your caste would have issues, if they found you permanently damaged." Having lifted his head, while listening - he sighed in resignation and lowered it back to the table with an audible thunk.
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Mist Harbor
Inevitable (QST)
In Need of Sleep (Player Vignette) (02/04/2021)
| Originally posted on the official forums by INSPADES on 02/04/2021 at 12:53 AM CST. |
| Talinvor leaned back in his armchair, lit a clove-scented cigar and poured a glass of his favorite wine as he reviewed the investigative leads that he had neatly stacked in a corner of his desk. He took a long pull and blew it into three consecutive rings that spun around and floated through each other before he waved them over toward the fireplace. The rustle of Darcena's pack whom were hardly stealthy, had kept him up all night.
He had almost forgotten that he had placed old fox traps quite a while ago (when he realized he could excuse it as "home security"), until he heard a SNAP and a corresponding yelp from one of those traipsing around his house for 'safety reasons'. While Akenna's little fox seemed to know better, it didn't save the careless. He tried to stifle a laugh with a mouthful of wine and ended up spraying it in a guffaw of laughter. He was certain Darcena was around and her sharp ears could certainly hear that sputter of amusement on her behalf. He imagined her standing just outside his door with her arms folded as if she could stare through his door, teeth bared and growling under her breath. He smirked at the thought, his own teeth baring from beneath his lips. Ah! It amused him no end the way he could rile Darcena. He toyed with a wolf-marked band he meant to gift her after a former prank he pulled, but what he had wanted to talk about months ago seemed irrelevant now. His sides hurt, and his laughter turned to silent shakes of mirth before he finally breathed a few calming breaths. The noise outside had ceased, and he sighed loudly in relief. After another draw of his cigar and a long swig of his wine, he finally felt ready to get back to those reports that he had halfway glanced through on his desk in front of him. "Hm..Katillios. No stranger to town, possible relations. Why come here? Vendetta? Possible advantage for open discussion," he had written. Other notes followed, from what his allies reported on her appearance and manner of speech. Pulling out another page, his fingers flipped the page to uncurl it so he could re-read his words: "Greth knows about this more than he lets on. ALWAYS about Socius. Why not marked? Time to push," he reads to himself before setting down the page. Ilsola's name was on the page as well, followed by "damsel in distress, repeatedly." Lastly, "Akenna" was simply written below Ilsola's name, with just a blurb: "Socius' fan club, heads island military authority." Setting down his wine, he picked up his quill and dipped it into a sanguine ink. "Constable" he wrote languidly below Katillios' name, letting his thoughts run away with him a moment until the word becomes a work of art on the page. Flicking off the ashes of his cigar, he took another long pull as he wrote the word "Shopkeep" under Greth's name and adds "also likely affiliated with Socius, lying about the Pinefar shop." Taking a draw of his cigar, he tiredly exhaled a large cloud that he waved off with the paper. Musing to himself he whispered, "Too ironic that's where Socius was rumored to be." Pulling a third page from the rest, he scans the contents which has the word "priest?" with a doodle of a feather. Setting the quill and ink away, he leans back in his chair - a long puff and exhale of smoke which starts to float over toward the bed. With a quick and quiet hum, a vibration of air thrums the cloud back toward and up the fireplace. The last sip of wine met Talinvor's lips and he placed the empty glass aside, then added "Collectable's Shop" to the same page as Greth's, followed by a another question mark. He stifled a yawn, just as he noticed that light was trying to pry its way past his curtains. Just then the piercing yowl of a throttled cat emanated from somewhere near Akenna's kitchen window. Talinvor's fingers flashed to his temple to offer pressure to the pain that suddenly throbbed there. Swearing in five languages, he rummaged through a small satchel that he gave up trying to clean crumbs from. Within it, he drew out an odd whistle in the shape of a skull, a muffin tin and a bundle of tkaro root. With a wince, he chewed the bitters and filed his papers back into his drawer. One of them refused to settle back in squarely as he tapped them on his desk. The page was dog-eared. The partial word of "Warl" was unhidden from the fold. So, pulling up the corner, he straightened it back in with the rest.
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re: Crackers and Teapots (Player Vignette) (03/25/2021)
| Originally posted on the official forums by INSPADES on 03/25/2021 at 07:49 AM CST. |
| Talinvor woke with a start, his breath exhaling in a loud hiss and the palm of his hand pressing into his temple. Scrunching his eyebrows, he considered for a moment. The pitch of the kettle was different this time and shorter, but just as annoying.
Swearing in various languages, he tossed off his sheet and headed to the window to see just how close to the arse-crack of dawn it was THIS day. Pulling aside a section of curtain he gazed across the grass to Akenna's house where he saw Jaysehn's shoulders shake in what could only be laughter before he wandered off to whatever thing he does. "So much for peace and quiet," Talinvor muttered. His eyes flicked back to the grass where some slopped up pile of white goo was decorated with stones in the front. He was sure it spelled out something, but the muted light of a too early dawn kept him from being able to make it out from the window. Shrugging, he shuffled to the back room and relieved himself of his late night imbibement in a relaxing groan. Returning to his bed, he considered going back to sleep but curiosity turned his head to the door. Shrugging, he tugged on his pants and boots before slipping outside to inspect whatever nonsense his neighbors were up to THIS time. Reading the stone words, he simply rolled his eyes in irritation. "Ha Ha! Very funny," he mused aloud as his booted toe poked the edge of the near waist-high sculpture. Puzzling over it a moment he realized what it was supposed to be. "Crazy cracker... sculpture teapot thing, is it?" he blurted in realization and amusement. Considering for a moment, he heard the chirping of the birds announcing the day. A smug grin slowly drew his lips upward and he wandered back to his house. When Talinvor returned, he had a few aqua wands in hand. Flicking the ends he threw bursts of water at Jaysehn's little teapot until the cracker paste left nothing but a smear in Akenna's front yard. Arranging the stones at a different angle, the message now faced her house. Within hours, flocks of birds found their feast and left an appreciation of the prank all on their own. |
Slaves of Survival (Player Vignette) (04/06/2021)
| Originally posted on the official forums by INSPADES on 04/06/2021 at 08:54 PM CST. |
| OOC Note
This is a conversation that includes several discussions and consolidates them to a single scene post battle when Porfidat was taken. I wish to thank the players of Landrai, Tabubu, Meliyara for their approval, editing and input. I additionally want to thank Alosaka’s player for letting me include him in our plotting and most especially the player of Akenna for being a good sport to Talinvor’s goading. While this is OOC to most, I leave this open to opportunities to engage or disparage for further RP. After gathering more palatable refreshments, Talinvor arrived at the pavilion in Ceiluir Glade. The creak of the copper lanterns caught his attention as the light flickered their reflection on the teak flooring. Idly brushing his fingers along the leaves of ivy that climb up the walls as he enters, Landrai, Tabubu and Meliyara followed close behind. The silken cushions wrapping around the edge of the walls promise comfort and respite after the evening battle. Here, the scent of wisteria and rose and the soft sound of the nearby fountain drew them all away from poorer company and the stench of rancid ale that permeated Greth's bar. Beauty was always Talinvor's preference when available, company included. The pillows beckoned him, and he practically let himself fall backwards amongst the piles. Taking up his wine glass, he took a long swig as the rest of his party made themselves comfortable. Landrai had started to talk of flowers, having been given a dog rose on the way here. His mind was still on the battle though, so her words nearly faded and he closed his eyes to simply enjoy this rare moment of peace. "I am concerned at the chaotic disarray of this battle," Tabubu lamented, breaking his reverie. "Eventually there was order, but this should have been prepared for." "I am absolutely shocked at the lack of preparation," Meliyara replied as she shook her head mockingly, her arms crossed in front of her. Talinvor simply nodded as he sipped his wine again, his gaze staring at nothing as pieces of the battle replayed in his mind. His teeth gritted at the scene of the child getting cut in half. "Worse than sheep," he muttered under his breath. "At least those know to stay sheltered when they hear the howls." His fingers met the bridge of his nose in frustration. "The 'protectors' knew this was coming," he said aloud, "and they call -me- cruel." His lips parted into an annoyed snarl. "Chaos, eii. But this was a purposeful slaughter. Perhaps some will reconsider those righteous challenges and question their ideas of escalation now that they understand its price." Shaking his head, his fingers played along the rim of his wine goblet. "The Warlord got who he came for," he repeated quietly - echoing his words from earlier in the Commons. Meliyara, Landrai and Tabubu nodded back at him. "Why the raid though?" he wondered. His teeth gritted despite himself and the words came out as a hiss, "This was not and more than necessary." "This is not the first time he has been sprung from jail, and not previously from Mist Harbor," Meliyara commented quietly, contemplating possibilities. "Eii," Talinvor agreed. "There was an agreement for Pordifat to betray the Warlord. For this... this seems like it wasn't typically necessary for the fleet to arrive to spring him in the past. Neh, there is something else here. Either the Warlord no longer trusts Katillios, or there was another objective. Clearly it was meant to trigger despair in the cruelty of it this time." Tabubu shifted, her eyes gazing at Talinvor with interest. "Why risk so many lives, what is so important about Pordifat?" Talinvor returned her glance, his lips quirking into a grin. "Eii, no one asked that of him did they? Not specifically anyway. Why would the Warlord bother having him sprung from jail? Why send an entire raiding party this time to distract everyone to do so?" Meliyara sighed. "We wanted you to have the opportunity to ask Pordifat questions, but they are too ignorant." She shrugged her shoulder resignedly. “They would rather let their pride deafen their ears and misplaced kindness still their tongues.” "It's a matter of needing to ask the right questions." Talinvor swirled his wine before taking another swallow. "Sometimes the right questions do not surface until a clue is provided, and you have to craft it in a way that they can't really dodge it other than simply refusing to answer. Which is also telling." Talinvor shifted his weight, leaning back with an elbow on a propped up pillow. "Pordifat reiterated what it seems was already known, questions were simply re-asked, and then an attempt to win and then break his heart was completely fruitless." He sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes. "I didn't get a chance to truly craft anything more than a quick question, which prevented that dialog. I missed part of the initial questions, I will admit - but I think I have a better grasp of reality than those that barter in hope and redemption." Landrai's hand went to Talinvor's shoulder, a concerned expression furrowing her brow and he shrugged unconcerned. Tabubu's eyes merely crinkled at the edges, with what was probably a smirk beneath her cowl. "They all think the Krolvin fled," Meliyara added, her voice filled again with disdain. "They congratulate themselves on a job well done, but ultimately the Krolvin got what they came for, like last time." Her chest heaved with a pent up sigh of frustration. "Tonight was foreseen," Tabubu added, her cowl somewhat muffling her words. "No one really stopped it, and that worries me too. I too want to know why he's so important." Landrai's voice chimed in, quiet words close to cracking from emotion. "So many innocents. They relied on the militia and it turned out to be a mistake." Meliyara pulls her Mist Harbor militia badge out and stares at it a moment with narrowed eyes. "Useless," she mutters before tossing it back in her bag. "And still this isn't done." Talinvor's gaze turned upwards to the stars. "This is a lot of build up to something else. This artifact and possibly Pordifat who may be skilled in wielding it, thus the effort." "They don't understand," Landrai remarked suddenly, and all turned their attention to her. "Power over another is an emotional thing, it becomes a need and desire. Fear can be part of it, but it isn't everything." She turns her gaze to Talinvor, her fingers stroking his braids. "While I chose this, I understand Katillios more than most. I wished I had the opportunity to have spoken with her again." "Eii, an opportunity for further diplomacy might have offered some indication of what they were up to, perhaps." Pondering the thought, he noticed Landrai's frown. "It is different from you, shira'qa," Talinvor responds. "I never suppressed you. She however chose her servitude as an act of survival. As did Pordifat. I suspect Katillios might have fallen in love with her master since and now needs his approval and attention like water in a desert. Porfidat still feels indebted to his brother, though. It's a weaker link to force someone, but he is broken by his own guilt, which he has refused to elaborate on. And to both of them, going against the Warlord is like challenging an Arkati. I question if he will have the resolve in the end to resist, but he knows he's a dead man either way." Rubbing his finger absently to his temple scar, he could feel the lump of the crystal still embedded there and immediately felt his annoyance rise. "I want to know the secret to the power that the Warlord possesses, as I wanted to know about Socius' with this one." Taking his cue, Landrai gently massages his fingers lightly to his temples and then works out the kinks in his neck as she prompts him to lean forward for her. Talinvor growls under his breath before continuing, "It might be an empty power now, perhaps - but it was damaging all the same. This time though, I won't be so careless in whom to trust. But eii, Katillios would be our key to finding out more that could be of use." Nodding to Landrai, she inclines her head in acknowledgement. "I will attempt to find her again, mis'ri," Landrai responds as she turns and pours him another glass of his bloodwine. Lowering her cowl to sip her tea, Tabubu remarks in a distracted tone "Only now are they upset. Because the Krolvin walked in, kicked in their gates and killed their children." Adding to the thought, Meliyara responds, "It is as though they did not understand the cost of battle before. Only now they are upset because they watched the innocents slaughtered." "They have a safe haven," Landrai sighed, her voice distant. "Why weren't the children at least already there? Why were people even about?" "They knew they were coming and did nothing," Meliyara clicks her tongue disparagingly. "They did not even make use of their self-proclaimed Safe Haven." "This is an island after all, it is an illusion to believe there is such a thing as a 'Safe Haven' here." Talinvor's forehead furrows as his eyebrows knit together in thought. "The Iyo," he says after a few moments. "They had been holding off the Krolvin in certain places, though asking for them to provide shelter for the entire town might have been something that could have been negotiated at some point. We still don't even know Socius' association specifically, knowing he uses their poisons." "Still," Talinvor continues, "Socius has the ability to leave the island and return. I'm not sure the citizenry has that magic. Curious that, neh?" The three of them nod, but say nothing and leave Talinvor to a moment of contemplation. Meliyara breaks her silence, "I am frustrated that they allowed Pordifat to be captured before he could show us the tunnels he mentioned. We needed to find a path to the south and find out more about the artifact. At least to point out the gorge that the artifact came from. Tabubu nods in agreement with Meliyara remarking, “Eii, perhaps we can find something out more about the artifact itself.” Noticing her attention pulled to the waves outside, Talinvor draws Landrai's gaze back to him, and he places his hand over hers and guides it to his braids. Her fingers start to rake through his hair and her lips curl into a pretty smile as she hums softly to herself. "Sha'haisa," he whispers to her, his voice reflecting his pleasure at her nails working their magic. "Agreed," Talinvor replies, "perhaps the Iyo may offer some insight on that. Ordim appears to have returned and some of them have an understanding with that muffin emblem I heard about. Maybe something will begin on that front," he muses. "We will have to see." "Alosaka may be in need of allies," Talinvor murmurs after a few minutes of head scratching bliss. "He is, I think the only other person other than myself that refuses to put Socius in a golden light. It would preferable he does not ally with the militia." "Thanks to their worship of Socius," Meliyara quips. Her lips tight to keep herself from laughing. "Akenna has joined the knights, I think and may remain at odds. I am tempted to push in that wedge a little more," adds Talinvor. Meliyara snickers, "That will not require much pushing." "She is easily riled," Talinvor agrees. "That is putting it mildly," Meliyara mumbles into a sip of her tea as the cup hides a smug little smirk. Talinvor sighs and rolls his shoulders to get more comfortable. "She won't take my baiting anymore. I think she worries she will react the way I want her to, so she avoids me altogether." "Still," Talinvor comments to Meliyara, "I'm frustrated that we have nothing to really go on, no clue to what this artifact does other than what you said about preventing magic. And, I'm not quite so familiar with kroderine that you mentioned has similar properties. This is a good project for you, q'hala - to take up with Archious and see if he has further insight to this." "And you," Talinvor begins as he turns to Landrai. "See what you can do to get in contact with the slave. I've heard that communication by light can be sent to ships. Perhaps we should visit the lighthouse soon." Moving to the balls of her feet, Tabubu rises from her sitting position in one fluid motion that causes her robe to swirl around her ankles. Nodding to Talinvor, she politely excuses herself. Sensing her cue he stretches and stifles a yawn, turning his gaze to the stars. "The hour is late already," he notes simply. "We will discuss more I'm certain." |
Mist Harbor
Inevitable II (QST)
The Stage is Set (Part 1) (Player Vignette) (06/05/2021)
| Originally posted on the official forums by INSPADES on 06/05/2021 at 06:58 PM CST. |
| A petite elven lady sits curled up in a maoral armchair, her eyes scanning a piece of pale parchment while she absently nibbles on the tip of an alabaster quill. Leaning over a glaes-topped reading table, she dips her quill in a crystal inkwell and begins to write.
“Tah’lon, My mind has been racing with many thoughts since you left on business this morning. Our conversation about Kallitos has stuck in my mind, and I hope you would read my words and help me in this. I fear for her and want to see her safe after this is all over. I feel this Warlord will fall, and she will be lost, unsure of what to do. While she may remember when she was taken as a slave, I think she has been one so long, she will feel alone and not know where to turn. She may have chosen to be his slave, but she chose out of survival. Has it turned into more? Maybe, but I will not judge her for it.” Leaning back in the chair, her gaze drifts through an arched window. Running a hand through her pale blonde hair, she gazes at what she has written and begins to write again. “My mind went spinning when I heard him say they should assign someone to target her specifically and take her out. They target her because they feel she is an easy way to get to him. I feel a need to protect her if this happens. I also know that there is no such thing as a fair trial, only what Socius wishes, and we have seen how that turns out. I would ask that you give her a choice. A choice to join your household and protection. She can agree or not, but at least we can give her the choice, a new path to take. Please consider my thoughts. I look forward to your return." --Your Eh'na de an'sui Talinvor poured himself another goblet of spiced blood wine, his favorite blend from the backroom stock at Luna Rest Tavern. Swirling it, he pondered his wobbly reflection in the dark liquid before taking a long sip. Landrai had left nearly as he returned in order to run errands, so he was left to his own thoughts. Yesterday’s discussions indicated the final battle with the Warlord was imminent and his objective was unlikely. “Too many eyes, too many hands eager for that artifact,” he muttered into another sip of wine. Seeing activity across the way at Akenna’s house, he inwardly groaned and started toward the window to shut it from the noise. As he set the wine down on the table, his peripheral vision caught the glimpse of a carefully folded parchment tucked under the inkwell with his name “Tah’lon" written in Landrai’s elegant hand. Brow furrowed as he reads, he places it back to the table. “Such pretty words, my bird of song,” he sighs in whispered words as the letter crumples in his fist, “you ask for much.” OOC note: Landrai's player asked me to post her letter, which subsequently triggered this series of events. More to come. |
The Stage is Set (Part 2) (Player Vignette) (06/05/2021)
| Originally posted on the official forums by INSPADES on 06/05/2021 at 09:53 PM CST. |
| Early morning’s dawn filtered through the treetops behind Luna Rest Tavern as Talinvor pulled up his hood to hide his features. He watched for a few moments as his target loaded black ashwood casks of his favorite liquid onto the loading deck of the building. Lips quirking to a wry grin, Talinvor lept to the man’s wagon and perched himself on one of the barrels.
Opening his case, he picked out his platinum flute, tapping it against his other palm. “Chientz Forgeflame,” he drawled in a sing-song way, calling down to the dark skinned dwarven man wiping the sweat off his brow. “Talinvor,” the man simply stated, not looking up from his work. He hauled up another cask to his shoulder, grabbed another to his other shoulder and easily stacked them with the others on the deck. “I am calling in a favor,” Talinvor replied, the flute twirling between his fingers. The dwarf simply stopped, looked up at Talinvor and grunted his annoyance. “What do you want, Lorekeeper? You keep me busy enough with this supply run.” Talinvor grinned, his teeth white behind dark lips. “Remember who pays for it too,” he reminded. "You should be grateful for this opportunity. There is little enough commerce in the north for Khanshael.” Talinvor sucked on his teeth for a moment, before continuing. “I may need a… return supply, so to speak.” The dwarf smirked back, his expression half hidden behind his thick beard. His fingers caressed the gold beard clips as if considering. A long drawn out exhale soon followed. “Black Sands, eh?“ he asked, one of his thick bushy eyebrows lifting. “Eii, should be decent enough for pickup,” Talinvor responded. “That is, if the cargo is cooperative.” The dwarf’s other eyebrow lifted, his expression of slight surprise. “That kind of cargo, eh?” he sniggered before Talinvor shot him a withering gaze. Breaking eye contact, Chientz returned his hand to his beard, smoothing it down. “You will meet my shira’qa there,” Talinvor instructed, “in escort of another. You will ferry them to Marshtown, and help them book passage from there to River’s Rest. Use an empty cask if you have to.” Talinvor tosses down a small booklet of bank notes, which the dwarf catches easily before tucking them into his vest. “Sounds like a plan,” Chientz replies as he turns back to unloading up the casks. Stretching his back after a moment, he turns to look back up but the dark elf is already gone and the melody of his somber tune already fading. “You spoke of choices,” Landrai whispered to the small bird-shaped charm. “There is another choice, should you wish to take it.” Landrai paused for a brief moment, considering her next words. “Fate is against your master now. You too, I overheard, are likely to be hunted. Mine has arranged an escape, should you wish to take it. Meet me at Black Sands along the Eastern Harbor. It is far enough away to not get caught in the mayhem.” Tracing her fingernail over the cloisonné, she hoped the remainder of her words would carry through. “While I wish for you to serve my master so that we may remain friends - I understand if you wish to forge your own path. Either way, you will owe something to Talinvor - and should be worth his while.” Resting his hand on Landrai’s shoulder, Talinvor nods his approval as she looks up at him. “Offering for her to empower herself, eh?,” he murmurs wryly to her as he lights the fuses of colorful fireworks as a distraction for the krolvin. Releasing the charm, Landrai watches it flitter out of sight. Biting her lip, she turns her gaze upwards to watch the glitter of lights flash across the sky in patterns of skeletons, ghouls, zombies, and whatever other creature was invested in the fireworks he bought. “If she is smart, she will bring us something of use as a bargaining chip,” he remarks, his fingers digging into Landrai’s shoulder to emphasize his meaning. “Otherwise,” he continues, his words pushing past his throat in a low growl, “I will find a way to extract a price later.” Landrai’s head bows in acknowledgement, her hand lifting up to place it softly over the top of Talinvor’s. “I have faith, mis’ri.. that she may choose to survive.” |
The Herald's Action (Part 1) (Player Vignette) (06/06/2021)
| Originally posted on the official forums by INSPADES on 06/06/2021 at 03:34 PM CST. |
| Katillios cloaked form stood along the starboard rail, gazing out across the water to the island that her master wished to conquer. The gutteral sound of Krolvin surrounded her as they worked to repair damages under her supervision. There was an obsession here, one that she didn’t quite understand. The people of this island here fought back harder than any she had seen, and kept coming back to the fray. For the first time in a long while she felt doubt in success. She bit her lip hard so the pain would rally her to confidence and her commands to a slacking Krolvin which had him near to groveling.
Light blossomed along the shore, sparkles of fireworks that caught her attention. The rest of the crew fixated on the sight of blue, green and red. Her half-elven ears perked at a new sound coming closer, a soft metallic flutter of wings. Standing very still, her curiosity piqued; she finally eyed a small hummingbird hovering near her shoulder. Glancing around, she grinned. Every Krolvin was watching the shore, and Ankreth was gratefully inside his cabin. Holding her breath, she heard a soft whisper in a voice she vaguely remembered. Yes, there it is. The woman that knelt to show that she too served another, offered friendship. “You spoke of choices,” the bird whispered and Katillios eyes widened. The fireworks were getting slower now, and the hummingbird flitted near her ear as if waiting. “I will..” she gasped as if she could barely believe she was speaking. “I will be there.” Her fingers clutched the rail until the little creature flew off under the fading din of the fireworks' last boom. Glancing down to her hands she realized her knuckles were white. “Worth his while..worth his while,” Katillios muttered under her breath as she found herself rummaging through the spoils. The items stolen from the harbor were in the captain’s quarters, but there were a few things found in the tunnels she had found interesting. Things that she thought might emanate magic, but the Stormcrows could not discover the purpose and so claimed they were of no value and left them unguarded. Rummaging through the small pile, her hand wrapped around one of the objects. Pulling it out, she grinned. “This will do, I think,” she whispered to herself. “I hope,” she corrected as she felt worry creep into her throat. Tucking it away, she swept her arms back as she stood with the snap of dark silk cloth and strode from the room as though she had every right to be there. |
The Herald's Action (Part 2) (Player Vignette) (06/06/2021)
| Originally posted on the official forums by INSPADES on 06/06/2021 at 03:38 PM CST. |
| The sound of battle nearly drowned the quiet flutter of metallic wings once again and without turning her head saw in the corner of her eye the small hummingbird as she did before. Adjusting her hood, it was swiftly hidden beneath the cloth. “You did well to remain as his herald,” the whisper began. Katillios narrowed her eyes as she listened to the rest of the message, grateful that she stepped back out of view as was expected of her. She gave an imperceptible nod. “I understand,” she replied. Her hand lifted as if to fiddle with her hair as she turned, the movement disguising the hummingbird lifting from her shoulder to return itself back to its keeper.
The bright smile of a pale blonde elven woman greeted her, her belled collar chiming as she bounded over to grip the half-elf’s hand. “You actually came!” Landrai gushed, “it makes me glad. Katillios stepped back, confused but Landrai pressed on, “It mattered to me about choices. I wanted to give you a chance at another one.” Katillios bowed her head low. “This one thanks you and your master for the opportunity,” she stammered as if not sure of the right words in the moment. Rummaging in her pocket, she pulls something out and shoves it awkwardly into Landrai’s palm. Puzzling over the item, Landrai carefully stows it in her pouch then pulls Katillios down close to the sands as she scans the opposite shore. The glint of gold against a dark beard is all the evidence needed, before Landrai snatches Katillios hand and nearly drags her toward the dwarf. “Chientz?” Landrai whisper-yelled as a confused half-elf stumbled behind her, clinging to the bardess’ sleeve. “Eii, lass,” Chientz hissed as his eyes darted right and left to be sure there weren’t any Krolvin ships that would suddenly sneak up on them. “Get in, haven’t got all day!” he snapped, ushering the women quickly to his small boat. “I’ll have to row between the islands to stay out of sight. Keep your heads down. Can’t have anyone recognize her, I wager.” Landrai nodded, as she sat next to Katillios. “You made a choice,” Landrai whispered to Katillios who merely nodded. “What you did is a brave thing, and my master has taught me much about survival.” The soft spash of the oars was soothing, but the half-elf’s perplexed look coaxed Landrai to continue the conversation. “I want you to join me, to be my friend,” she sighed as she reached to comfort Katillios by taking her hand in hers. “My master is ki--” “No,” Katillios interrupted, “I just...want to go home!” The once confident half-elf’s voice broke in her words, then curled her shoulders and began to weep. Landrai began to reach to her, to console her - but the dwarf shook his head sharply. “She needs her own time,” Chientz chides. “She’s broken, needs time. She was a slave on a Krolvin ship, I’m guessing by the likes of things.” Lifting his knuckle to his nose, he gives it an itch. “The Dhe’nar must think this is worth the effort to steal one out from their noses. And made herself not just any slave I’m guessing, by her well made clothing.” Landrai’s mouth opens as if to rebuke him, but simply nods at the dwarf’s insight. She wanted to make an effort to get to know him better, if she met him again in different circumstances. Her fingers caressed her pouch, and hoped what was in there was worth the half-elf’s freedom. |
Saving Katillios (Player Vignette) (06/06/2021)
| Originally posted on the official forums by INSPADES on 06/06/2021 at 04:21 PM CST. |
| Talinvor waited patiently at the pier, flipping between twirling his flute and actually playing it. A few passerbys nodded their greeting, and he nodded back. Skulking in doorways around here, would just draw even more attention. He’d timed this perfectly, he mused to himself as the soft splash of a small familiar trade ship sidled up to the docks.
Swaggering to the edge of the boat, Chientz lept to the dock with rope in hand. Tying it securely, he then motioned for the women to disembark. Seeing Talinvor, Landrai nearly bounced down the length of the dock in her excitement. Behind her, Katillios slowly stepped one foot in front of the other and kept her head down. Seeing her hesitate, Chientz nudged her forward. “Go see your savior, girl.” The dark dwarf smirked under his beard. “I have further arrangements to make,” he added as he caught Talinvor’s eye. The Dhe’nar nodded, and Chientz made his way to one of the other docks, muttering about Knaydl. Watching the dwarf depart, Talinvor simply smirks before his gaze returns to Katillios who stands before him with her head bowed. “I hope you have made this worth the trouble,” Talinvor remarks, his eyes glancing sidelong at Landrai. The half elf says nothing, as Landrai fishes out the item that Katillios gave her and hands it over to Talinvor’s waiting palm. Immediately turning it over and over in his hand, he tests if the item is magic. Watching him, Katillios responds, “This one found it in the tunnels, but the Stormcrows did not know if it was valuable or of worth.” Wringing her hands beneath her silk sleeves, she watches him cautiously. A growing pitch seems to vibrate against the item in Talinvor’s hand, when suddenly he grasps at his temple. Begrudgingly he replies, “The price is paid, half-elf.” Falling to her knees, Katillios kowtows to Talinvor who was busy with another pitch and then another. Finally tucking the piece into his pouch, he addresses her. “You are free to go where you like now. I gave you the means to make the choice you did not have. You are known to many who would hunt you for what you had to do to survive.” “You belong to yourself now Katillios,” he adds. “That is the power I give you. What you do with it, is up to you.” Nodding, she rises back to stand. “Thank you master… “ “Talinvor,” he swiftly responds, "remember it." Rising to stand, his grey eyes weigh her but presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose. "Down that pier is your destination. Go, if you wish to leave,” he commands, his tone hinting at a threat if she lingers any longer. Smiling, Landrai watches at Katillios turns and runs down the other dock and boards a rather dilapidated but sturdy boat. The large female captain’s laughter rises with her sails as the dwarf places a heavy pouch of silver in her waiting palm. Hopping back down to the dock, Chientz heads back and plops a seat on an old keg next to Talinvor as the three of them watch Knaydl’s boat disappear over the horizon.
(OOC: Thanks to Landrai for spinning me on this path, and to Quillic for letting us steal Katillios!) |
Mist Harbor
What Dreams May Come (QST) (preamble)
The Minister of Enlightenment (Player Vignette) (10/27/2021)
| Originally posted on the official forums by INSPADES on 10/27/2021 at 10:26 PM EST. |
| The ethereal flowing melody of a metal flute carried over the breeze of the island. The filigree tones coursed through the trees and the streets of Mist Harbor as it reached the ears of those who had heard it before. Those that had, simply relaxed from whatever task they were doing, standing perfectly still. Their eyelids fluttered briefly just before they stared off at nothing. For nearly a dozen children, additionally their lips curled into slight grins as if remembering some happy memory which quickly vanished into stoic expressions.
When the sound ended, all returned to whatever they had been doing as if nothing happened and when questioned, could not recollect hearing anything at all. -- One leg bent and the other dangling over the rim of the lighthouse's catwalk, Talinvor sat comfortably perched in the shadows high above the town at dusk. Drawing his platinum flute carefully from its case, he placed his fingers purposely upon the keys. Inhaling a full breath, he blew softly over the mouthpiece to give his music life. Playing an old and remembered tune, his music wafted high, poetic notes that echoed over the sound of the wind. It had been exactly a year since he had been tasked to clean up the riotous distractions of The Flock. The power of suggestion was a talent he enjoyed utilizing and to exploit. Selbi had given him perfect opportunities to do so to nearly every citizen of the island, hypnotizing them to forget and remember things differently. Back then, he had hummed this exact structure of notes to the citizens of Mist Harbor as he handed each a small candle to light in their window. The children he had watched had heard the melody the longest, enjoying the sweets and chocolates he had procured for them. He had planned ahead by planting the seeds of suggestion, and now tested to see if his efforts would bear fruit. Playing the final coda, his melody repeats once more with the last note sighing mournfully over the sound of the crashing waves below. As the final note faded to silence, the windows of Mist Harbor began to glow one-by-one in the soft illumination of candles. |
Awakenings ~ Vignettes(GM Quillic Vignette) [partial, Talinvor only] (12/29/2021)
| Originally posted on the official forums by GS4-QUILIC on 12/19/2021 at 12:43 PM EST. |
| Talinvor's vision swam as he slowly returned to consciousness, and the first sensation that registered was nausea. He tried to focus, but failed miserably, the combination of blurred vision and the accompanying nausea stealing his thoughts as he tried to form them. He turned his head, attempting to get his bearings, but there was hardly any light, and what little he could find was a miasma of roiling confusion, and his stomach lurched painfully as his eyes attempted to make sense of the chaos.
Buried behind the confusion, he slowly began to register the pain. The sensation began to poke its way through the web of nausea, but then began to increase as whatever relief a lack of awareness had provided was stripped away. The pain... the torturous, indescribable pain... could not be pinpointed. It overwhelmed his system completely, and he bit his tongue hard to keep from shrieking in agony at the sensation. Deep within, he felt a cold fury begin to build. Whatever... whoever... was responsible for this, they would not get the satisfaction of seeing him scream. Hot tears spilled down his cheeks, a combination of pain and anger, and he tasted the coppery tang of his own lacerated tongue in his mouth. The pain shifted suddenly, somehow becoming even more intense, but for the first time, the agony became localized at a point in his temple. A shriek wormed its way up his throat, but Talinvor forced it back down through sheer force of will, feeling his head spin once more and briefly wishing for unconsciousness... and then the pain ceased. His head spun once more, but this was the euphoria of the absence of that hellish torture. His nerve endings sang a song of relief, and he felt himself slump as his muscles relaxed all at once. His jaw hung open and he rasped as he drug throaty, greedy gulps of air into his lungs. "It is not much I require," a silky voice murmured from the darkness. Talinvor's head whipped toward the source of the sound, but there was nothing that could be seen. What little light was present in this space did nothing to illuminate whatever was in the darker recess. "Who are you to require anything of me?" he demanded, his voice strident and clear, betraying none of the tremors he could feel racing through his system. "One who waits," the voice murmured, an undercurrent of mirth in its tone. "Waits?" Talinvor echoed, feeling his strength slowly return. "For now," the voice agreed. "But while I wait... you must serve." "Serve?! Do you know whom you are addressing?" Talinvor demanded. "One who has had their tether cut," the voice responded evenly. Talinvor blinked at that, then raised a hand to his temple, feeling a lance of pain as he encountered the torn flesh... but nothing more. "How...?" he whispered. "It is not much I require," the voice intoned, matching exactly the tone and meter of the previous utterance of the phrase. "What, then?" Talinvor demanded, a sneer crawling across his face. The light in the room shifted slightly, as a flickering torch somewhere behind Talinvor flared from some unnoticed breeze. With the barest glimpse of the recess, he was able to make out a massive black chair, and in it... a hulking form... but then the light was gone once more. "You will serve my purposes ably, untethered one. When I call... you will answer." Talinvor opened his mouth to object, but before he could utter a sound, all went black. He was vaguely aware of the passing of time, but when consciousness finally returned, he sat bolt upright in his own bed, gasping. One hand flew to his temple, where again, he found only a ragged wound. And nothing more. |
The Fen of Rot (Player Vignette) (05/10/22)
'|~squish~ "Fething Korthyr’s balls!" Breaking a branch, Talinvor scraped the offal from his boots and flung it as far into the distance as he could manage. The subsequent plop of it hitting the muck did not appear to improve his mood. "It’s time," he argued to himself, rather matter of fact. It was only partly because he despised the swamp, but more because he felt that enough time had finally passed that Kothos might feel a little more desperate for his aid in saving Reynai from her horrid dreams. Reynai had been targeted more specifically with nightmares, seeing through Pashtal’s illusion. Her terror caused her to tear out her eyes in fear. The physical deformity could be healed, if she wished it - but for now, it was her internal belief that blindness was her safety. “Why did I even offer to travel this wretched swamp again?” he wondered to himself. The sweat began to bead on his forehead and his clothing was stifling. Fanning himself, the erratic movement was less about cooling off as to keep the gnats from trying to fly up his nose. The lack of any sort of breeze made the air thick and rancid. A burning sensation slid up his throat, and he retched as the scent of a decomposing creature lay halfway across the path. Pale maggots squirmed down into flesh and fur and emerged again as flies through the mouth, leaving and returning again in this cycle of decay. "Putrefaction. Rot. These are the traits that Ivas claims now," he muttered to himself as he stepped carefully around to avoid soiling the bottom of his boots in something foul yet again. He hadn’t travelled through the Vipershroud much and the last he was at the temple here, the place was abandoned - absorbed in the same fester as the swamp. He wondered if it was the temple that caused the area to turn to swamp, or if the swamp caused the ruination of the temple. Still, it seemed that Kothos had made something of a home here and he hoped it was a bit more hospitable with creature comforts of wine and a hot clean bath when he arrived. His mind found itself diving down that rabbit hole of philosophical questions, in an unexpected attempt to distract his sense of smell. He paired Arkati to their Lornon and Liabo counterparts and still failed to identify how Ivas paired with diseases and the rotting of flesh as this temple’s art depicted. There was no breeze here, so the encompassing stagnation and stench of the air simply lingered. His mind forced himself to ignore it and continue his journey toward the temple. He considered his own teachings of Ivas were those of dangerous seduction - and reminded him how much he despised this particular representation of the Arkati. It fit more with whatever was the opposite of Imaera. “Was there one once?” he wondered to himself. “Can the Arkati absorb facets of each other when they die?” He passed brackish water that stunk worse than old outhouses, causing him to struggle in maintaining his composure. The scent of sulphur made his eyes water as he passed a disgusting yellow pool that reminded him of a pustule. He watched it oozing over that cesspit as the foul air suddenly burst from its skin. Reaching into his pouch, he pulled a scented cloth over his nose and mouth but it did little to help. The air just started to smell like shite and flowers. But before long, he was waving it like some tiny flag of surrender to the true masters of the swamp. Bugs. Particularly the flying kind. He had finally reached the large tree that was carved through for passage. The air steamed with the putrid scent of insects and held the deafening drone of a million tiny wings. His hand irritatedly waved before his face, then clamped the cloth to it again as he choked in breath. He scanned quickly for the way through, but had to quickly squeeze his eyes shut again to dissuade the tiny monsters from trying to purposely fly up into them and resenting that his spells required him to actually open his mouth. He had to concentrate to escape this infested six-legged sanctuary, his fingers aiding as needed. A shiver of disgust ran though his body as something very leggy slithered over his hand. Finally exiting that confined space, he was relieved when the swarms left him alone to return to their haven. Taking a large inhale of breath in relief, he immediately regretted it again. "Fething swamp! Fething bugs!" His foot squished. Again. This time, the mud would not release it and his boot stubbornly stuck like a sentinel fortress surrounded by a moat of filthy water. Hopping to regain his balance, he tugged his boot free and slid his foot back within its cold clammy soaked leather. His fists clenched as he took a calming breath, then scraped what he could off a nearby log. In so doing, he disturbed a group of slugs freshly sliming a trail in their meagre escape. In irritation with his other boot he simply squished them in turn. Wrinkling his nose in disgust, he scraped off the ichor by stubbornly scuffing a few steps down the trail. He exhaled another long drawn out sigh. “Ivasians. Sheruvians. Will we have Koar zealots from Tamzyrr next?” He had meant to say that in his head, but it came out in a vicious oath of frustration as he trudged on, swatting at mosquitoes as he growled under his breath. "I did promise, didn’t I?” he muttered to himself for the hundredth time since his first step in the swamp. He needed to fulfil his agreement both to Reynai and to Kothos, and going to the temple would demonstrate sincerity when he said such things. He recalled that promise too, reminding himself again why he was here. The children had simply been moved off the island, but the damage was in their heads. And nightmares aren’t something that distance will fix. He knew something of the subconscious mind and how to retain lucidity. Self control. The realm of dreams and emotions could be tapped into by his particular bardic skills. His fingers reached into his case, touching the small paper kite that had proven it. Calling his attention away from his thoughts, a sharp buzz near his ear caused him to growl once again in annoyance as the little pests were simply too numerous to kill with any real permanence. Still, he pulled up his hood to shadow his face. A smirk played across his features as he added the words to his bardic undertone, "An’sui Dhar!" The enchanted air around him shimmered until it exploded into a resonating ring of force. Thousands of insects exploded outward with a squish and fell like rain with a satisfying plop to the ground. With his vengeance satiated for the moment, he slogged through the boglands as quickly as he could. He actually looked forward to meeting with Kothos and hoping to the entire pantheon and Noi’sho’rah himself, that he had a stocked bar.| Originally posted on the official forums by INSPADES on 05/10/2022 at 07:36 PM EST. |
Appearances
You see High Lord Talinvor the Loremaster.
He appears to be a Dhe'nar Dark Elf.
He is strikingly tall and has a hard-muscled physique. He appears to be youthful. He has piercing stormy grey eyes and ebon skin. He has very long, straight jet black hair pulled into two chain-bound braids over each shoulder, the rest left loose beneath a blackened silver headband. He has an angular face, a straight nose and strong, chiseled features. He has a faded x-shaped scar on his right temple.
You see Grand Lord Talinvor the Loremaster.
He appears to be a Dhe'nar Dark Elf.
He is strikingly tall and has a hard-muscled physique. He appears to be youthful. He has piercing stormy grey eyes and ebon skin. He has very long, straight jet black hair pulled into five asymmetrical ring-pierced braids with three over his left and two over his right shoulder, the rest left loose beneath a blackened silver headband. He has an angular face, a straight nose and strong, chiseled features.
Additional Art
Commissions by Farwin at https://farwinart.carrd.co/