Journeywoman's Journeys, A Fantasy Age of Exploration Worldbuilding Quest (Updated Daily)

"Of fucking course" Jaylnn says, rubbing the heels of her palms into her face, "I don't reckognize any of those.

"Uhhmmmm," Anne smiles brightly at their server, a shiftling of indeterminate gender not much older than the two friends who was wearing a loose green shirt under his apron, "What would, you, recommend?"

They give the Anne a conspiratorial look, "Well, if I were to be looking to misplace all my troubles for a night and be gently escorted into the night by a drink, might I suggest the Third Moon Emerald? Made from the lower, silver, needles of the Deep Pine taken from the meadows of the deepest hedge." they finish with a wink.

"Ohhh. No," Jalynn sits fully upright in her chair and shakes her head, "Anne, no. That's how you buy the most expensive thing on the menu. Even if Tarn is letting us put our food and drink tonight on HIs tab." she all but glares at the server, "But I'm not letting anything pass my lips that's sold on being from the 'deepest hedges', that's…" she wrinkles her nose.

Anne shrugs and gives the server a sympathetic smile, "Well, I heard that there was a… Honey? Wine?"

"The Golden Verse, yes."

"Sold!" Anne smiles at an appalled looking Jalynn, "I like honey!"

Jalynn sighs, "Sure. Yes. That. Give us one of those."

The server nods respectfully, "As you wish, a bottle of Golden Verse for your table."

"Hey." Anne says after the server leaves the table, "You doing alright Jal?"

The burgundy skinned woman shrugs, sighs in resignation, and pinches the bridge of her nose, "I could lie. But you'd still pester me abo-"

"I would!" Anne grins.

"Not a fan of this place. I like streets that stay where they are when you look away and when you-" she pauses, "You vanished." she gestures tightly with a turn of the wrist, "I'm responsible for protecting everyone on this trip."

She looks past Anne to where two figures are talking on the small stage that sits on one half the inn's common room. (Well stage is perhaps a grandiose term. The raised section on half of the room where there had very recently been another trio of tables.

"I've known you a long time, and I know your tricks, you couldn't vanish on me like that. Even if you wanted to."

"I could!"

Jalynn's eyebrows raise and lips quirked downwards in a mocking frown and she snorts derisively, "No. You can't. Absolutely not."

"Oh, would you perhaps wish to lay a wager on th-"

"I'm serious Anne, you were gone." she looks away for a moment, "I didn't panic, but I rushed into the city, hoping that you'd somehow slipped ahead after being out of my sight for moments."

Anne doesn't quite know what to say, so she nods.

Jalynn pats a hand on the table with a gentle thump, "Listen, just," she smiles wryly, "Just don't get whisked away by a strange faerie city again okay?"

"No guarantees," Anne returns the smile, "but next time I'll make sure that you're whisked away by the spirits with me." she says, waggling her eyebrows.

Jalynn laughs, and raises the back of one hand to cover her mouth, "You really are very much… you" the other woman's expression hardens slightly and she raises a finger to point behind Anne, "Drink's here."

Anne spins her head around to catch the final approach of their server, carrying a tray with a bottle with two small glasses on it.

"Oooh" says Anne admiring the way the light caught the liquid in the bottle. She didn't drink much, but she did appreciate nice colours.

The server sets down the bottle and then the two glasses with a flourish, tucking the tray under their arm, "Bottle of Golden Verse, two glasses, and petals. Caedmon style."

Jalynn sceptically takes a small saucer and tilts it towards her, frowning.

"Uhm. There's, uh. She then tilts the saucer so that Anne can see it, and there are indeed red petals on it, "These flower petals. I uh. That's new."

"My apologies." The server smiles, "The traditional Caedmon method of drinking Golden involves adding a single petal from a Caedmon Rose." they gesture towards the bottle, "IT really does bring out the best in the flavours. Fresher, fuller, sweeter. More floral."

Anne's eyes light up and she reaches for the bottle, "That sounds delightful."

Jalynn's frown is on the verge of intensifying but then she suddenly shrugs, "You know, I don't think it matters to me. You're a professional, I accept your recommendation."

"Enjoy ladies." They say, stepping back, "Please, let me know if you need anything else."

Anne takes one of the petals and drops it into her glass and then eagery takes the bottle and pours small amount of the golden hued liquid in after it.

Jalynn follows afterwards, and Anne waits for her friend before raising the glass to her lips.

The harakai woman pauses, "You know, we should have asked to sample this before we bought a whole bott-"

"Oh well." Anne says and then downs her glass.

It is… Good. Sweet, floral, a bit thicker than she's used to, and… There is an aftertaste to it that is almost unpleasant but winds up as anything but once she's given it time to settle.

Anne smiles, "Yum!"

Jalynn finishes her mouthful (about half the small glass) and then nods appreciatively, albeit reluctantly, "This is very clearly a drink you'd enjoy. A bit too complex for my tastes. Give me something simple and strong any day!"

Anne knows that beyond Jalynn's complaints, she's decided to enjoy herself, her earlier stiffness overtaken by a slight relaxing to her shoulders, and how she's settled back into her chair. Anne knows that she's not quite so eager to leap to action and leave as she had been just moments before.

And just in time too, she can hear that the surrounding buzz of conversation has begun to subside and both Anne and Jalynn turn to face the 'stage' where two figures are now fully lit and on the stage.

Or rather one is on the stage and the other stands just off of it.

The one standing to the side carries a flute in her hands, and looks maybe harakai? But Anne can't be certain, her skin is a golden hue and her hair is a burgundy colour like some Harakai that Anne has known, but there are none of the striking glowing tattoo like markings that often mark one as a member of the half-spirit people.

She is dressed in a simple white and purple gown, and holds a flute in her hands with a look of habitual focus.

And on the stage is a… striking woman.

Tall, lithe, and with an unobtrusively muscular build Anne is instantly captivated by this performer.

She's not of a species that Anne recognizes. She hass bronze-red skin, pointed ears, a pair of horns that emerge from her temples and run back along the side of her head, the points almost vanishing into flowing silver hair that's been bound into a long braid that reaches down her back. After a moment Anne realises that below her braid isn't another strip of silk cloth, but a tail!

She's dressed in flowing and silky white and purple clothes that show as much skin as they conceal,.And while this woman carries a pair of wickedly curved blades that catch the light in strange ways on her hips, and bangles of every colour of the rainbow on her forearms, her most distinctive feature is white (alabaster?) mask that covers her face, held in place by some device or magic magic that Anne cannot see.

Then there is a brief moment of eternal anticipation in the room as the musician begins playing and Anne can see the performer's hands resting atop the hilts of her swords, her fingers tapping rhythmically in time with the music, then her body begins to sway along as well an-

Then, suddenly, in a flash of moment the woman in centre stage draws her blades and begins to move.

And she begins to sing.

Anne doesn't understand the performers' words, but the language is strange but flowing and the voice resonant and crystal clear.

She moves fast at first, blades moving slowly and smoothly, accompanying the music and the song, weaving back and forth across the stage.

Anne's ears are focused forwards as intently as her eyes, following the flashing of the blades so intently that it takes her a while to realise that the blades are leaving a trail of something ephemeral behind them.

In the light of Caedmon Anne sees streaks of a thin radiant purple cut into the very air that last only long enough to be seen.

The dance starts picking up speed, and Anne shifts in her seat, expecting some kind of climax, but the performer reverses her course and begins to slow her movements.

The volume of her voice also begins to fade and Anne finds herself leaning forward in her chair despite herself, straining to catch the last notes from the lips behind the woman's mask before they finally disappear into memory.

There is a flip of the blades, both scimitars arcing over her tall shoulders and landing in hands which have found themselves behind her back. She smiles enigmatically, and stretches, arching her back slightly and kinking her neck from side to side and holding that pose for a long moment before turning to say something to the musician next to her, returning her blades to their sheathes..

Anne shifts backwards in her seat, feeling something akin to both disappointment and curiosity, and reaches to refill her glass and sees an eager curiosity on Jalynn's face that must mirror her own.

"Uhh," Jalynn begins, licking her lips, "So-" before the performer speaks, interrupting the burgundy skinned Harakai woman.

"Good evening my friends. I am Zara, Zara Silversong," Anne doesn't recognize the woman's accent, but it is surprisingly soft, drawing out some words in a way unfamiliar to Anne, "and this is my darling flautist, Aelia. I hope that you enjoyed that little warm up." she removes her maks in one smooth fluid motion and smiles warmly at the audience in such a way that even though Anne knows Zara is performing to a crowd, the back of Anne's mind insists that the smile is for her alone.

Her face is as beautiful as Anne imagined, purple eyes near glowing from a thin, almost aristocratic face.

"This sword song is an ancient art of my people. It is a way of war, a way of art, and… dare I say… an art of love?" she smiles wickedly and winks, causing Anne to quickly raise her glass to her lips, incidentally covering the sudden rising of heat to her cheeks "It is also an art of narrative, an art much beloved in this city of stories."

Silversong stretches again, moving arms and legs, silver hair and tail swaying, "Stories, shift and change, like music does, like the movements of the body, they are never about any one thing" she returns her mask to her face, "be they about love are also tales of war. And others, be they about war, are also tales of love." she draws her blades once again, "a story is a million things, told in a million ways. Watch. And. Listen."

She begins to sing again, but her motions are almost... Hesitant. Going through the motions, choppy, slowly and lethargically.

Then, a sudden change, movement, fighting, terror. Defeat, stillness.

Anne leans forward again, elbows on her knees. (In the corner of her eye, she can see Jalynn, across the table, also leaning forward, forearms bracing her against the tabletop)

Anne admires the woman's… performance, but the longer she watches, the more she comes to admire the skill. Anne knows her bladework well enough to know that while the woman mimes sloppiness and desperation, she has a firm control over the blades and where they're going at all times, each step carefully chosen even the step chosen is a mock stumble.

The dance continues from the dejected stillness, a sudden rising recovery, then a meeting with something, surprise, hesitation, then blades returned to their sheathes, and the dancer moves back and forth across the stage, dancing as if with a partner, spinning and bobbing, in time with music rising and romantic, the flute trilling in joy.

Anne's attention wavers long enough to refill her drink, and she sees Jalynn in rapt attention, eyes locked on the performance. Anne knows the look of determination on her friend's face, she's memorising every detail of something that she's entirely enamoured by and wants to do herself someday.

A/N said:

Sorry, I've been completed obsessed with writing tens of thousands of words for another project the last few days, so this is just sort of checking in, and we should be returning to a vote tomorrow

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