Xanthium (prime): Difference between revisions

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Xanthium filled the dark corners of the sanctum with their song, a symphony of passion so strong it pulsed across the dark, with her a flash of green, silver and gold in the middle of the night-hued stone. The chorus thundered, and she knew that some day, soon, another brilliant storm would swell and take up this tune again, and all those she sang for would come back to dance, to burn, fight, die, and be reborn on the strange, paradise stage of Mist Harbor. Bringing her sonic lance about as a fulcrum to spin smoothly into an arabesque pose, Xanthium dropped into a final, graceful bow, a farewell and a thank you. An amen.
Xanthium filled the dark corners of the sanctum with their song, a symphony of passion so strong it pulsed across the dark, with her a flash of green, silver and gold in the middle of the night-hued stone. The chorus thundered, and she knew that some day, soon, another brilliant storm would swell and take up this tune again, and all those she sang for would come back to dance, to burn, fight, die, and be reborn on the strange, paradise stage of Mist Harbor. Bringing her sonic lance about as a fulcrum to spin smoothly into an arabesque pose, Xanthium dropped into a final, graceful bow, a farewell and a thank you. An amen.

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{| role="presentation" class="wikitable mw-collapsible mw-collapsed"
| <strong>'''Berceuse'''</strong>
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'''Berceuse'''

Xanthium let the latch fall into its cradle, pausing there to take a long breath, her knitted brow pressed on the dark wood door. The room was the star-themed suite in the Cysaegir Hostelry, and had become her favored sleep chamber east of the Dragonspine, at least, while she was alone. Indeed, the room still held a hint of blood orange; the citrus tang was comforting refugee from her meager evening meal earlier. Her next breath filled her nose with the sweet scent, and finally she turned, twirling on tip-toe with a grace she did not feel, and faced the small room.

The incandescent white orbs that roosted in the dark grey room's corners beguiled her, flashing brightly enough that her eyes were immediately drawn to the chamber's main decorative element, the crystal dancer before the bed. Xanthium continued her ball change step over to the statue, and stopped in front of the shimmering Aelotoi figure, thinking how the gentle curves and shining wings reminded her of her friend Traiva. The dancer was large enough to block her enemy in the room, the sleighbed with snowy-white sheets waiting for her. Sighing from the effort of staying on her arches, Xanthium finally dropped down to a walk, and crossed the rest of the distance to the head of the bed.

The next few battles were humbling. She disrobed down to her chemise, and each layer of clothing gone made her vulnerability closer, more tacit. By the time she got in bed, she was ashamed to see she was trembling. Her final task was to unwrap the curious and horrible gift from Jaysehn, the witchwood figurine of a crying child. She did so quickly, placing it upon the bedside table, and gave it a final, studying gaze. Hauntingly lifelike in its appearance, the child kneels, pitifully weeping away its sorrows. Still dressed in its bed-clothes, its emaciated arms grasp feebly at the remnants of a torn stuffed bear. Jaysehn claimed that this effigy would draw her night terrors to it, that she'd struggled with since her childhood.

She turned from it, and as she laid back upon the silken pillows, she began the first few hums of a soft lullaby. When she settled, she put her power into it, and felt the soporific magic start to talk hold of her, soothing her rampant pulse into a calmer rhythm. Tonight, to test this figurine's power, she wasn't going to escape into insomnia, she would force herself to sleep with her dulcet song. Just as she was about to drift away, the corner of her heavily-lidded eyes caught the flicker of the door opening. She tried to will herself up, feeling frightened anew, but her body would not respond, the lullaby had claimed her. Her heart clamored and rang, but the limbs and lungs surrounding it slumbered on. Paralyzed, she could only watch, dazed, as a figure strode into the room.

"You and I need to have a little talk, Xandi." Seated now at the end of the bed was her mother, Ysharra's soft tones belying her ominous words and intrusion. Xanthium tried to respond, and once more felt nothing save the ache of fear in her throat. Not real, none of this is real...

"You know you can't help them. You don't even truly want to, why would you? What is this Socius to you, or even Mist Harbor itself? You're just there to prove something, and you'll fail."

The vision of her mother, with her streaming, ghost-white hair became more ethereal, still. Her voice had a mocking nature to it, and despite her mental reassurances, Xanthium felt herself be wounded by her accusations, tears welling up to join the terror. Ysharra leaned in, her silhouette distorted enough that her change of position brought her face directly in front of her own, hovering above her.

"It is not just me who thinks that, no. I brought another who wishes to confront you, dear."

Ysharra's face wavered and spun up, out of the way, as the room's other inhabitant dropped down from the deep grey ceiling. The beast's dark, armored carapace coiled down with silent grace, the only sound a soft clicking as the segments knitted together over her. Xanthium once again seized up, begging her legs and arms to move but as the thing pressed her down to the mattress, the weight of the monster and her own magic rendered her bound. Only her lips parted, and a moment later, with great effort, she turned her head, trying to shield herself from the insect-like creature.

For a moment the crying child's effigy greeted her, but was quickly interrupted by her mother's shade. The dark red amulet about Ysharra's throat glimmered into focus, and raspy, noxious scratching sounds joined the terrifying chorus around Xanthium's head. The inky, rippling flaw in the crimson crystal flickered, and Xanthium's eyes were overtaken with a tapestry of images; of a sylvan bent over in pain, his silver hair clotted with blood, a redheaded Faendryl with all the color drained out of her dead face. Bronzed skin rent with lashings, shielding a sylvan woman with platinum, scarlet-tipped tresses and a broken neck. Honey-hued hair hanging from a severed scalp, storm-grey sorcerous eyes staring forever into oblivion. Spread between them all, a halfling boy connected the tableau of horror, gazing at Xanthium with shock and misery.

"You know, this little thing might have worked, Xandi. If you hadn't stolen this amulet from your mother, and used your pretty voice to sing it a song."

The distant sound of the wood figure clattering to the floor accompanied a thick, nauseating feeling of a spine being driven through her chest, and where it pierced went numb, leaving her more helpless than ever. The visions of her friends and beloved writhed, and slowly rewound, showing every stage of their deaths and torments while her mother's doppelgänger continued.

"That means we aren't dreams, Xanthium. Much worse. We're your memory. A shadow you'll never be rid of. Sing for us again, if you can. You will certainly cry...ah, look, you are already."

The beast above her joined not-Ysharra's loathsome threats, and a mind-rending shriek of discordant sound burrowed into Xanthium's brain, and the visions replayed on and on. Xanthium shuddered and whimpered, her strength fading fast.



From outside, the hostelry's nightshift innkeeper wandered past the southern end of the upper hallway, making sure all was clean and calm. The night was silent, though he noticed that the Star Room's door had come slightly ajar. Knowing the young Ivasian was in there, he chuckled softly, clearly she and whoever was in there with her had distractions when they went in. As he pulled it shut, he heard the sounds of rustling silk, and smiled again, they were definitely busy! He turned, leaving the hallway to the almost muted tones of struggle and soft, still moans.


[[Category:Adventurers]]
[[Category:Adventurers]]

Revision as of 22:50, 4 July 2020

Xanthium Dyvim
Xanthium Dyvim.jpg
Xanthium Dyvim: Ennya7 at DeviantArt.com
Race [[half-elf]]
Culture [[Faendryl]]
Profession Bard
Religion Order of Ivas
Affiliation(s) Member of House Brigatta, Faendryl Enclave, Order of the Shadow, Caeruil Atelier
Disposition Uncertain and observant
Demeanor Introspective
Flaw Reticent to the point of stymied
Greatest Strength Energetic and stubborn
Greatest Weakness Sensitive to being rejected
Habits snooping and composition
Hobbies lorehunting and dancing
Likes bagpipes, her fife, and dahlias
Dislikes authority and ambiguity
Fears that no one truly cares for her

[[Category: half-elf player characters]] [[Category: Faendryl player characters]]

Xanthium Dyvim is a half-elf (technically, three-quarters elf) of Faendryl origin, her father is Giliad Dyvim Faendryl (known as Asylum around the Landing and Solhaven) and her mother is Ysharra Nagorn, a ranger from an extrinsic human settlement in Northern Elanith originally, and currently a resident of Wehnimer's Landing.

Name

Xanthium is another name for cocklebur, and in the Language of Flowers , cocklebur spears mean pertinacity, mimicking the manner in which the flowers and spurs adhere to passersby.

History

One summer Ysharra was traveling with her former paramour, Asylum, to visit their Faendryl kin just outside of New Ta'Faendryl, when they were both caught in a strange rift in the heart of Wyrdeep Forest. Munin, Ysharra's raven companion, managed to avoid the epicenter of the trap, and winged her way to Asylum's father, Dyvim Kalal, who mounted a rescue. It took some time to find, isolate and pierce the interior of rift to get them out, and when they did, both parties discovered that time had flowed differently on either side of the phenomenon, and Ysharra was heavily pregnant. They were taken to Dyvim Kalal's compound, and Ysharra soon gave birth to two daughters, Akonite and Xanthium.

Akonite, the elder twin, closely resembles her father, and has often been able to pass as Faendryl, despite her having pale coloring and coal-black hair. She shares those features with the Dyvims, as they had mostly been spared some of the aesthetic affects of living in Rhoska-Tor. Xanthium, on the other hand, takes after her mother in being very tall, possessing nearly white-blonde hair and alabaster skin. Her human heritage is far more obvious, and while she was accepted by the members of her Faendryl family, she led a much more isolated existence than her sister.


Appearance

You see Xanthium.
She appears to be a Half-Elf from Ta'Faendryl.
She is of a towering height. She appears to be very young. She has argent-haloed indigo eyes and pale porcelain skin. She has long, cascading white blonde hair flowing down into a riotous tumult of textured waves and gold-touched spiral curls. She has a fine-boned, heart-shaped face, a long, narrow nose and a bow of lush, mulberry red lips.
She is in good shape.
She is wearing an ornate black ironwood dragon earcuff, a billowing jade green robe collared in hematite and pewter beadwork, a dark orchid bell-sleeved blouse, a silver coiled serpent bracer, a floor-length viridian spidersilk skirt composed of deeply pleated layers, and some pale silk stockings wrapped in black velvet vines under some faenor-hued interlocked ringmail thigh-boots laced with copper wire.

Associations & Beliefs

When Xanthium and her sister first came to Wehnimer's Landing, her mother had been absent from her life for some time, as a result of going on a personal sojourn to temper her grief over her actions in the Griffin Sword Saga. When Xanthium and Akonite arrived to find her, she initially rejected them, and ordered them to return to New Ta'Faendryl. A Faendryl mage by the name of Lord Thrassus Feydark intervened on their behalf, and helped convince Ysharra to allow them to remain and find their own path to power and ability. Akonite had been allowed to join the Sorcerer's guild in New Ta'Faendryl, and was immediately glad of the chance to use their new settings as a practice ground to increase her Summoning and Necromancy experimentation and research. Xanthium, on the other hand, was hurt by her mother's first response, and spent most of her time alone, until recently.

Xanthium and her mother eventually made their peace, and now their bond is mended and stronger than before. Xanthium has taken up her mother's gardening avocation, and began accompanying her near-daily to the Temple of Ivas in Vipershroud, and while there met several of the Dancer's order. After some contemplation, she joined Ivas' order, and took her vows in the summer of 5119.

Xanthium is very fond of her new home in the Landing, and has bonded with her mother's beloved, the necromancer Melikor, as well as the Landing's former mayor Lylia Rashere, Priestess of Ivas Nola, her "guardian" Juspera Spintari and Thrassus' cousin, the warrior Zolis. She has grown particularly close with her superior in the Temple of Ivas, Brother Kothos Blud. During the year of 5120, she served as the co-campaign manager for mayoral candidate and barrister Faerinn Greatsinger.

Biographic excerpts