Shining Wyrm & The Blood Immaculate [Original Fantasy/Dragon Fiction]

[Rayne-of-Faerie]

I feel like the severity of his reaction was appropriate no?

Click to shrink...

Yeah that does seem to be something someone would not consider the context for in setting

 

[Nighzmarquls]

4.4

Tsugotholan huffed and shook their head.

"The cow-"

Jewel huffed back harder, interrupting the Bog Wizard, who was polite enough to correct themselves.

"Pardon me, Bethica the cow has no work of sorcery upon her that could explain the lack of gifted offspring. Of this I am sure."

Which confused Jewel but only got that swaying shift of a shrug from Bethica. She spoke calmly but Jewel smelled despair on her.

"That it's not by sorcery does not change that a curse is on my family. The words are quite clear as spoken to me: twelve generations back a mother could expect one-to-three able in speech among her life's offspring."

Bethica gave a deep sigh and then settled into the chanting tone she took whenever recounting her family's wisdom.

"Five generations back it was only two at best. And it was then that the taking as sires of our brothers and sons still gifted in speech began, But in this was the curse not halted and grew ever greater and now all my children are mute."

Another deep sigh of pain made its way past Bethica's lips.

"The herds were once so great and so full of fine speaking bulls, masters of wit, finest of horn. Great and strong and wise were they."

There was a happy tone, speaking of something Bethica had never seen but assured in its truth as passed down to her.

"Mother spoke the songs and shared their ballads. But our herd was split in the coming north and over hills where sky dips close and cold bites with winter in every night. And now none in this valley's herd speak but I."

Tsugotholan tilted their curved hook of a head on a neck far too long and bending in too many places to have anything like a solid spine. Speaking just as round and common sounding as always.

Jewel found it funny how the wizard sounded lower in station than Bethica.

"Well, I can't speak to any of that, but there is no working divine or otherwise on you or your flesh that I can find. You're quite a healthy cow as far as I can tell. But I believe Jaksa would know better than I. He's better at this sort of thing."

Jewel considered that before speaking.

"Well I suppose I could request he come to verify. Would you mind sending word by your own means? Or should I use a messenger bird?"

Tsugotholan gave a shrug and waved vaguely with a hand only formed for that sole purpose of the gesture.

"I'll send word via the circle that you want him to check over your co-"

Jewel glared at the wizard.

"-Your Friend Bethica."

And then with nothing else to do, Tsugotholan was gone.

After Bethica finally spoke the affront Jewel had been able to smell on the cow during the entire 'examination' her weird friend had performed came out in voice.

"Well. I must admit I never imagined getting the aid of a great serpent who was also the lady of the land. Or the attention of not one but two great magisters to see to the concerns of my own family's plight. Yet could I pardon some rudeness towards your company Jewel? I have a pressing question."

Jewel nodded to Bethica.

"Of course, Bethica."

The cow which had grown to be a fast friend and confident for Jewel squared her shoulders and planted her hooves.

"Are all of your acquaintances insufferable idiots?"

Which was not exactly what Jewel expected but she had kind of guessed.

"Tsugotholan is very knowledgeable in sorcery and honestly probably knows more about swamps and their waters than I could ever learn."

Bethica shook her head and huffed.

"Not knowing things and being foolish are not one and the same. I don't fault others their ignorance of my family wisdom. Or what they did not witness. But you have quite a number of fools very close to you, Lady Jewel."

Jewel paused, thinking of a wizard she definitely would agree is foolish.

"Well, Fizzbunches is far worse than Tsugotholan, I think. He's a weird of a city, and a cat as well."

Which got a chuckling snort from Bethica.

"A cat? Hardly a surprise such a magister would be anything but an insufferable idiot. But I speak of both your Squire, and now that Wizard. You at least keep good company with Adorján, a fine man he is, duly elected like a proper senator was he."

Jewel could not help but chuckle herself before defending her Squire.

"Smithson is very fine and good to me, he watches over Gem and has always seen well by me. Even when I was young and foolish with him."

That also caught Bethica's attention.

"Don't judge your mute daughter harshly, she is still yours no matter the providence. Care well for her. Even if you are bereft of milk to give there is more to mothering than that."
This again drew Jewel to deeply sigh. One thing she had not found a way to explain even to Bethica was the trouble with Gem.

"I care for her as she is me, Bethica, I have said it before. When we are close the two of us are one, more than one, all that transpires for her I then know. All that I see she then also knows. I am certain by all rights she is nothing like how a daughter is meant to be. She is something else."

Bethica huffed and twisted her head to shake loose a fly.

"Matters not if you are one soul split between two, a child needs a mother to guide and comfort them. She needs it more than simply knowing. She needs to be close and to be sure of you. This is more than words and thought, this is flesh and blood. A child needs more than to know their mother is there, they must also feel it. As you and her are one, can you say she does?"

Jewel stilled the words she was going to say and instead thought. Did she see herself as her own mother? Of course not. But did she as 'Gem' feel the absence of that?

Puzzling over the memory she was not sure she could deny the pain there.

It didn't make sense, but her presence definitely brought comfort to her smaller self. More than just the wyrmflame and the wholeness of it.

Separated from herself, Jewel knew that 'Gem' was addled, lesser, confused.

Struggling with all the knowledge and weight of herself, but bereft of the ability to do more.

Bethica nodded and mooed with a knowing tone.

"There ya see? So you are bringing your little one to see me next visit? I'm curious what a child that is both serpent and vir looks like."

Jewel huffed but nodded to her friend who was far too clever for her age. After all, Bethica was only ten years old!

 

[Zaealix]

Okay.
I'm at the bottom of page six of this thread.
I can only imagine that incident between the Weird of Bogs, was it? And the Weird of Alleys going something like:
Fizz: we are moving luggage.
Tsu: Yes, we are moving these pieces of luggage.
Fizz: Yeah, I will be moving my luggage from point A to point B.
Tsu, indeed, I will be moving my piece of luggage from here to there.
Fizz: Correct.
Tsu: Now, shall we both do this at once?
Fizz:Sure, we can do this at the same time.
Tsu: By the count of three?
Fizz: yep, on three.
Fizz&Tsu: one, Two, Three…!

And then the screaming started as everything went down the ruining road to a swamp of dismay!

 

[Nighzmarquls]

4.5

Jewel luxuriated in her new bath.

It was quite possibly her favorite thing about her new home.

And although she strived to keep from over-indulging and always ensured that the water would see use beyond her own relief, today the village and staff had agreed that hot water from Jewel's bath would help in laundering and dish washing.

If only there was more good news.

Jaksa was unavailable to see Bethica any time before the wedding. And Jewel, to be honest, was slowly sinking ever deeper into ever more tasks of her household.
Yes, being able to soak the entirety of her coils with room to spare and both wings was definitely warranted.

If only the bath was not the sole part of her home that was actually complete. They had finally reached the point where the items she required to fully furnish her manor could not be sourced from the skill and crafts of her demesne, or even Rochford.

She had made due with what carpentry and crafts were available.

But all of it would need to be replaced.

It was all far too fragile.

The trees which made up so much of Rochford Manor and the Eyries' furniture grew incredibly slowly. Theor wood was extremely durable, but as such it was resistant enough to cutting that it broke the teeth off most forms of saw that could be forged when not felled with care. Once it was cut down and dried, the difficulties apparently did not end.

It was mostly shaped by application of fire to burn it into shape instead of conventionally carved, as Rochford's carpenters had discovered in Jewel's youth.

Which meant much was lost to waste as ashes.

And due to the difficulty, Jewel's manor had hardly any of it that she did not bring from Rochford with her!

Which amounted to her ridiculous and now somewhat too small chair and her old serving bowl that mostly saw use as a place for presenting snacks; Jewel tended to take a whole pot to herself at meals now.

The rest of her home's furnishings were distressingly flimsy.

The far more common and workable kinds of lumber were all so delicate that Jewel could hardly say she found any objects made from them comfortable to handle or move. It was fine for quarters, beds, chairs and tables used by guests or her staff. But for anything Jewel was expected to touch reliably? No, far sturdier materials were needed.

And as the trees which bore such strength were rightly known as Axe Breakers, it was at substantial cost in silver, iron tools and labor to source and work anything made of them.

Jewel was loath to spend any more of her family's coin then was absolutely necessary. It was bad enough how much of the wealth of their land had been paid to the Countess for the years Father had taken absence from his place in the muster of Viznove.

But she would not burden her family or land with even more cost if she could help it.

And it would be a substantial expense to see all the furnishings of her home built from the same timbres in use at Rochford and the Eyrie. Nevermind that the proper means of working the fiendish wood could take years by the estimate of the few men capable of it known to her.

Jewel wished to have her home settled before she was married. But that was looking like that would simply not be the case.

If all had gone as planned they would have had time to cut the few trees available in Rochford or Viznove in general or import it from elsewhere in the realm. There would have been time for it to be properly shaped by the carpenters well before Jewel's husband arrived with his staff.

But the Manor had been delayed by almost a full year due to accidents, adjustments and general happenstance. Jewel had not foreseen what that meant until now.

Jewel sank under the hot water and tried again to heat the water by way of Dragon Fire.

She was able to keep it from splashing too much if she kept her head right at the bottom in the middle of the flooded stone chamber. It helped ease some of the sting of shame. Mother and Father had simply smiled and nodded when she voiced her troubles to them yesterday.

Mother told her she was learning a valuable lesson in stewardship.

Father had laughed and said it was good that she realized this with something as inconsequential as having not quite sturdy enough furniture and spoke about how often they had to replace their own over the years due to Jewel's accidents.

Failing to plan for an unexpectedly poor harvest was much more dire.

But frivolous or not, her failure meant Jewel still had barely any of the permanent furnishings she was supposed to. She emerged from the waters of her bath, as was her habit she made sure every drop of water and most of the oil stayed in the wyrm sized basin that filled half of the high vaulted chamber.

Her home was built.

The stones were a bit disoriented but pleased to be there and many were warming to her presence and growing familiar with her.

Especially in her bathing room.

They had all of them spent their time as part of the bones of the hills and the mountains as long as they could remember until just now (as stones thought years were barely a moment) when they were quarried out of the nearby cliffs, well and cellar.

Jewel was pleased to meet all the friendly stones of her manor and looked forward to them growing to know one another well.

But she still had almost no furnishings she could touch without fearing to leave them in splinters!

Just pillows and carpets for her room.

A feasting table that Jewel could literally shatter if she was not careful, the tables and chairs for her guests and a bunch of other odds and ends she definitely was forgetting and would doubtlessly discover when she needed them.

At least her new bathing room was cut and mortared in proper stone, with a hearth for heating water in great iron pots just over and behind the basin that held her.

Instead of forcing her staff to march buckets from the kitchens to her bathing room they could just tip the pots of water and pour them in to fill her basin. Some work was still needed to fill those pots with water in the first place, but cold water up the shallow stairs was a far safer endeavor than risking scalding with it just done boiling.

Tsugotholan thought they might be able to source a spring or mountain creek into the manor one day from the mountains.

But it had taken long enough to build her home as it was.

And her bath was marvelous even without the luxury of its own spring of water.

It was based on an Old Cantor style Balneum mostly, although due to the sheer scale of Jewel the arrangements resembled the full Thermea in the City Cantor itself and the more populous cities scattered all over the realm and beyond.

Where it differed from those was in the water being held in a tall basin with a wall just shy of Smithson's chest in height when he stood at the lower level. The depth was shallower than that in the basin itself. The room was set further up and into the hillside her manor was rooted against.

The most important part of the bath, however, was that it fit all of Jewel with room to spare!

And then there were the very clever improvements Jewel had insisted on to ease the labor of her staff.

By clever use of a flood gate the overflow channels that would catch splashes could be joined with an entire emptying of the bath when Jewel was done. The water when released traveled via a channel to another gate right before a fountain spout that had been carved in something resembling Jewel's own likeness.

If she squinted.

In its blocky features and obvious chisel marks, it really had far more resemblance to the effigies used as Wurm Wards south of Rochford. Adorján's son and his apprentices had put in a solid effort but they were no old Cantor masters of the stone. The only thing to truly denote that it was Jewel's lips that the water passed and not any other dragon is there was a bit of a softer line to the stones and they made great effort to get her horns mostly right.

If quite a bit shorter.

Still it eased the parceling of her hot water after use for the kitchen, laundry and anyone in Valasect who wished to make the journey to her manor for use of hot water with lavender oil. Adorján said he already knew several gardens that planned to grow Jewel's preferred herb as an acceptable obligation to their lady.

The fat for the oil was still being sourced locally, but there was talk that maybe they could make use of Lanolin from the shearing. Although pigs were also being considered simply for the expedience with which raising a herd of them would have.

Jewel was honestly so overwhelmed with everything else she left that to Smithson and headman Adorján to resolve.

She was getting married this year.

Her home was settled for her own needs to only the barest minimum and she was going to have to settle her husband and his staff in with him as well.

Would she disappoint the Countess' son with her failure to have her house in order?

It was a wife's duty to see to the household and land in a lord's absence.

Jewel dipped her head back down into the water to try again to heat the water by wyrmflame alone. If she could just find the knack of it there was so much firewood they could save.

A sudden shock sprayed water all over the stones of her bathroom when Jewel hiccuped.

She had a solution to her furnishing woes!

Her headman's family were Masons!

 

[ShadeHawk]

The trees which made up so much of Rochford Manor and the Eyries' furniture grew incredibly slowly. Their wood was extremely durable, but as such it was resistant enough to cutting that it broke the teeth off most forms of saw that could be forged when not felled with care. Once it was cut down and dried, the difficulties apparently did not end.

It was mostly shaped by application of fire to burn it into shape instead of conventionally carved, as Rochford's carpenters had discovered in Jewel's youth.

Click to shrink...

First, if saw could be made hard enough to comfortably cut ice, it could be made to cut extremely dense and hard wood... though I wonder if they have this technology (as I understand it, it got lost in our times). Maybe using water-powered grinding wheel to grind away wood would be possible solution.

Second, splitting wood along the grain and then shaping it by steam bending could be a solution (though again, maybe they do not have the technology; harder wood is also supposedly harder to bend reliably, and soaking/bending takes longer time).

Third, at some point having furniture made from steel starts to be more cost effective solution (forged and forge-welded or fastened/riveted together).

She had a solution to her furnishing woes!

Her headman's family were Masons!

Click to shrink...

That's another solution to the "furniture problem".

 

[Nighzmarquls]

4.6

As she walked with the relatively small caravan of her and Kroak's households, Jewel mused on how similar and different this journey was to her first time leaving home.

They would be settling for a late supper in Rochford keep and from there she would be traveling with her family. Making it in only a quarter day's time from Valasect was doable without flying or galloping, although it was a bit of a strain on the horses to go at this pace.

Still, except for the rush where they were trotting more often than walking, it all went much as when she had taken her first trip to Kaeketteh.

Instead of Bromthil, the captain was Murial, riding a proper Rochford charger as befitted her rank over Jewel's (still meager) footmen.

Then there was Smithson, her squire, who still rode Oxhoof.

He looked just as much a proper armed and armored warrior as Muriel and Kraok.

Who had met up with Jewel last evening for a modest feast with his own only slightly larger entourage.

After that was Jewel's cook and kitchen master Dariusz, who was also bringing his wife and children along so they could stay with his Mother during the festivities.

Jewel offered to invite them as well, but Eryka firmly refused to get any closer to the 'shit stinking heap' of Kaeketeh than necessary. And having smelled the city herself Jewel did not disagree with the sentiment.

Alas, the wyrm had no way to avoid the smell herself.

It had also been almost a year since last the family had seen Dariusz' Mother Hożanka and all of them were eager to reunite. Jewel had scarcely gone four days in ten without seeing her parents, so she could not fault them for taking the opportunity.

Dariusz would have stayed as well, but this was Jewel's wedding and she would not have her chosen cook not be on hand for the preparations, nevermind whatever insult or frustration that brought the Countess.

The man was a little apprehensive at the prospect, until Jewel swore he had her full protection as the Lady of Valasect, a Daughter of House Rochford and the Shining Wyrm and Heir of Viznove.

After those important members and Jewel herself, the rest of the party consisted of a dozen Footmen and their own horse for guard and some extra hackneys to carry supplies.

The majority of the guard traveling with them was from Kraok's demesne, as Muriel only judged two of Jewel's own guards trained enough to avoid embarrassing her in front of the Countess.

They would pick up more of them tomorrow when they departed Rochford as the entourage to the rest of Jewel's family.

All told the party was sizable, but hardly a third of what it was going to become the next morning.

The initial planning of supply was light as they would restock at Rochford proper and Jewel had already made those arrangements in her last visit with her Family.

But still it had been an exercise for Jewel and her household.

Alexander was already home with Blizzard-wrath waiting for her. He had again taken an early departure from the Eyrie but at least this time he did so with guards.

He hadn't quite made it in time for his birthday, but it had apparently been a near thing. He had also actually sent word ahead to confirm his arrival well in time to travel with the family again.

His sister had longed to join her family for the Summer Harvest Festival in Rochford, but as Lady she held responsibilities to Valasect now.

Jewel found it interesting how her demesne did not quite celebrate the end of the hungry summer the same as the demesne around the Rochford Manor.

They did not gather at her Manor, for they had only just finished it and tradition deemed it occurred elsewhere.

There was still the dance, there was still the black-grain bread, but instead of gathering within the modest temple in the mornings, to be beseeched by the minders there on which gods were in need of thanks for the harvest that year? The people of Valasect gathered around a very mighty tree at the first light of the day.

They also did not fast through the day but instead ate all throughout with a warm mood.

Breads were in less abundance though; instead her people favored a fresh porridge of a cheese that was milked that very morning and then chilled in cellars before eating with fresh berries and honey.

The fires, instead of being the center of the dance, were lit much smaller and set all around the tree past the extent of its boughs, and around that were laid the tables for the customary feast.

Jewel's own dancing had initially been taken with some suspicion, but by the time the night was well under way and the spirits of everyone else were risen on the sacred bread, everyone took well to her joining them in her own version of the carola.

It helped that Jewel could sing in every timbre of voice and at a volume that went well with the fiddles and sheep skin drums.

Jewel was careful to focus on the wind while dancing. As she had come to learn in the years since her first dance that had grown into an enchantment. The courtyard of Rochford yet pulled upon any water spilled in it. Wind was safer.

The gentle swirling breeze that it left around the tree gave a welcome freshness in the morning after.

She had also avoided dancing quite through the entirety of the night like her first time. As much for her own muscles as that of her subjects. Who had, as always happened, been drawn into the wyrm's motion as assuredly as the air and they spun and whirled with her around the tree even after she had retired for the evening.

It had just been ten days ago the festival had finished, but still Jewel's thoughts along the road were filled with it and other distinctions between her old community and new one.

The difference between even villages as close as Valasect and Rochford weighed on Jewel's mood.

For in the other festivals and celebrations did she also see differences.

Of particular concern for her right now was the weddings.

In her home the season just after the Hungry Summer was the traditional one for weddings. She had attended such ceremonies in Rochford manor as her father's daughter.

But in the days after harvest celebrations it was Jewel as their lady who was called on to attend and wish well to them. It was her right to weigh in with her approval for unions between people that were yet strangers to her.

A voice of weight alongside the temple staff who sought out the gods and stars that might be expected to make a fuss over any given joining.

There were a surprising number of gods who took note of weddings apparently, and due to the attention, one needed to have the temple involved to make sure none of them felt slighted or took offense.

Jewel reflected with some annoyance that the way that Adorján seemed to act as her own intermediary in case she also felt somehow slighted or offended by the matches of peasants.

What business of hers was it that one family wed to another?

Nothing in Jewel's Book or lessons on Stewardship said it should be her responsibility or right to try and work the matches of her subjects like they did their farm beasts.

"My Lady, what woolgathering thoughts trouble you so?"

Blessed stars above have thanks that Jewel's Squire was so keen in knowing her moods!

'Gem' was already soothed into mostly dreamless sleep for the walk hours ago. Which had been its own kind of disorienting once, but like all of the absurdities in Jewel's life, now hardly was it worthy of note.

"Oh, Smithson, I am just musing on what exactly my subjects expect of me? Like what possible reason is there for me to object to who they wed? Is that not at most a matter of common law?"

Her squire was careful as he shifted posture on his horse, even though it was not needed. Jewel's smaller self tucked into a bundle at his back was in such a deep sleep she was rumbling like a restful hen.

"Is this truly about the people of Valasect or is it more your own marriage you worry over my lady?"

Jewel focused on the thick smothering of her smaller self's sleeping mind.

By age 'Gem' might be a bit old to be so swaddled, but by size she was starting to lag behind Jewel's younger sister.

Finally Jewel had waited too long and had to answer her friend and Squire.

"Perhaps in a small portion, Do you suppose Paul Nádasdy has any gods we will have to appease during the wedding? Like that shepherd girl did? Mother and Father have never mentioned that I or Alexander have the attention of one and I don't remember seeing any god sign around me."

Smithson shrugged, his shoulders rising and falling with a bit more motion then needed, he still was not entirely comfortable in armor.

"My ma and the temple in Rochford say some goddess is named the 'Wet Lady' and that she put her sign on me when I was born."

Jewel blinked, that was certainly a name. Her Squire, not being in the habit of ever actually touching the reins of any horse he rode these days, waved off the look. His tone exasperated with the troublesome joke.

"Yeah, I know, but not much has come of it that I've seen and it's hardly that much of a bother. She's not supposed to be the jealous or demanding sort, you see."
He paused to scratch at his still somewhat sparse beard.

"In fact it's a bit strange, she normally starts to get cranky if her chosen don't get married but the temple says she's been very pleased with me for the last few years. They advised me to keep doing whatever I've been doing since it's working so well."

Huh, well that was interesting, but also troublesome. If gods could be so fickle about things or change their minds like that Jewel could understand why the wizards she knew preferred to avoid them.

Then again the only thing of divinity that Jewel could say she ever spoke too was the Veles during his riding of the various elders in the longest night of winter.

And she was not entirely sure if they counted. Was it truly speaking to a god if the god was speaking through a man?

At the very least, the Veles never had anything different to offer her in advice besides "your destiny is your own, young wyrm" or variants thereof. But he was always polite with her and greeted her with friendship regardless of the man he wore.

Which was better than most.

She'd never spoken to the Silver Lady besides the goddess' demesne being a common stopover on her family's annual visits to Kaeketteh. Which was very rude, Jewel thought. Even when the equivalent of the goddess' head man was right there in Abbot Herbort.

Jewel knew that particular goddess absolutely did speak to some of the monks directly without having to wear anyone, but she never even once so much as touched the wyrm with her faux light in the mornings, let alone speak.

It made the monks very nervous every time Jewel attended those awfully early breakfasts they held.

And that summed up the entirety of the gods Jewel knew much of. There were far too many of them to keep track of.

And without having a patron in the heavens it was mostly not her concern.

Half the time, they were tied to specific stars over which they held sole dominion, other times they seemed perfectly willing to share one across many.

Sometimes new stars would flare in the sky either to herald the coming of unknown divines or portents. Other times there were so called lonely stars vehemently unclaimed by any and all that the temple staff could ask.

Every village was said to have at least a dozen of them and they did not always share common ground with ones from just a two day walk distant.

Divinity had been a sparse topic in Jewel's studies until recently.

The matters of the temple, stars and divinity were not the providence of lords and ladies. Like the working of the soil it was best to leave up to those suited to the task. But while walking towards her marriage and the ceremonies to come, it settled oddly new and fresh in her mind.

The temples and books said that it was from the stars that the gift of thought came to man and beast. Was some distant ancestor of Bethica blessed somehow to give so many of her family their acuity in speech and thought?

Would men like her brother, father and Smithson someday have that blessing run out and leave their children as mute and empty headed as any other beast?

Jewel did wonder why such a blessing would ever be given in the first place.

What even was a god?

 

[I_S]

What even was a god?

Click to shrink...

Now that's a dangerous question.

 

[Rayne-of-Faerie]

Now that's a dangerous question.

Click to shrink...

Ask a thousand times to a thousand things and you will get a thousand thousand answers. One may ponder on this their entire lives without the goal of an answer but instead the goal of understanding the question. Do you seen to know the origin of what a god is as in their physical being? That leads to the question of if they even have one, if so, how? If they always did where did they come from? Is there a God of Gods? There is always more to ponder, and never an answer to any of it. Stress not over the answer of Gods, ponder instead on their works and admire what is around you! Take joy in what you can see and experience and touch and learn of and admire the beauty that surrounds you and the joy of being. One need not know all to experience and find joy in it!

Idk why I'm rambling maybe I've thought on that too much in the past myself.

 

[I_S]

Ask a thousand times to a thousand things and you will get a thousand thousand answers. One may ponder on this their entire lives without the goal of an answer but instead the goal of understanding the question. Do you seen to know the origin of what a god is as in their physical being? That leads to the question of if they even have one, if so, how? If they always did where did they come from? Is there a God of Gods? There is always more to ponder, and never an answer to any of it. Stress not over the answer of Gods, ponder instead on their works and admire what is around you! Take joy in what you can see and experience and touch and learn of and admire the beauty that surrounds you and the joy of being. One need not know all to experience and find joy in it!

Idk why I'm rambling maybe I've thought on that too much in the past myself.

Click to shrink...

As I said.

It's a dangerous question.

Wars have been fought over it.

Atrocities condoned by it.

The greatest philosophers and sages have pondered it for the entirety of recorded human history.

And yet, no one has ever managed to answer it.

 

[Lonzo34]

The greatest philosophers and sages have pondered it for the entirety of recorded human history.

And yet, no one has ever managed to answer it.

Click to shrink...

Which is, in of itself, an answer.

As far as The Blood Immaculate goes, though, gods seem to be beings of variable magical power who lie beyond the barrier of the sky.
They also seem to be incredibly bored, and possibly a bit terrified of our favorite Tyrant Wyrm.

 

[Nighzmarquls]

4.7

Jewel had been coming to Kaeketeh since she was nine winters old. The first time she arrived flying over it; the second she entered with festivity and ceremony.

It had never again been quite as much a production since that victory triumph.

But still she acquired a wake when traveling through the city with her family.

Vendors trailed her with snacks for the gawkers.

People cleared the way ahead of her well before the Rochford footmen needed to prod them.

Even now there was a pressure from the crowd squeezing close to the open space that surrounded her family's party.

Over the years Jewel had become more comfortable for the locals. Still a spectacle, but one which did not require that they close off the main street with guards to control the press of bodies.

She had even on occasion taken tours outside of the Countess' keep and wandered down the side roads of Kaeketeh in curiosity.

She had looked at the little gardens and small orchards which riddled the city in greenery like a marbling of verdant fat in the flesh and meat of brick buildings.

She had in fact grown quite familiar with the seat of the Countess' power.

However Jewel was never going to get used to the sound or the smell.

Villages were not without their own scents, the middens and manure of beast and men were carted to the fields often enough.

But the concentration of man and beast alike was so much greater in the city. Everything was pressed in closer.

Where the tanning and dying in Valasect or Rochford would happen well away from where anyone lived, that was not the case here.

In Kaeketeh it was just down river along the south side of Gate Town's shores.

Jewel mostly found the smell of man and woman pleasant in their exertions. The times for harvest and tilling tended to fill the air with a fine perfume of laboring peasants and beasts.

But in the city many of those same smells grew sharper to the point of unpleasantness. The many bodies that filled the city reminded her of the war camps, all of them mired in their many strains of fear. The beggars and thieves stank of desperation and despair even if Jewel never saw them.

And then there was the withered, ill, starving and dead.
Jewel rarely saw them, but she could smell them.

She could hear the cries and the shocked gasps.

And every visit was an assault on her senses.

The city always poured over and into her.

Jewel had to strive to restrain herself and hold to the mein of grace that befit not just a Lady but the heir of Viznove.

But she was not alone as an object of spectacle.

Father rode Zephyrvam in his ceremonial armor. Although it was dustier for the grounded walk where a flight would leave it gleaming.

Mother, Alexander, Murial and Kraok.

All properly mounted on horse and dressed in either finery of armor as befit their stations.

They were all of them moving at a noble gait.

But as Jewel sought to ignore the sound and smell of the city, a sudden shout of anger and then a sound of thin soled shoes slapping hard on the pavement caught Jewel's ear.

She turned towards it, her throat clenching slightly, her wings bracing.

Her own motion and shifting weight was only just drawing the attention of the entourage when the source of the noise slid between the pressed crowd like a snake through grass, washing past the footmen of Rochford like water in the reeds.

The figure was dressed poorly, visibly dirty, smelled like at best their last bath was in the river itself and even with the rough cut of their clothes, it was in even greater disrepair for the shredded sleeve and half torn open front.

Jewel was rearing back as a figure ran past the stunned expression of the crowds and Jewel and her father's own footmen.

But before she could chastise or move to defend herself, the figure was already prostrate before her.

The voice was the high lilt of what Jewel's nose was just catching up to her to inform was a young woman.
"Sanctuary! Mercy! Shining Wyrm of Viznove! I surrender myself to your justice! I am a thief, I've stolen coin and food since I was two and ten winters old! You witnessed me scampering off five years ago! I admit it all and will tell you of everie silver! I surrender!"

The long dark hair was not even done spilling out onto the street as Jewel stalled to a stop by the outpouring of desperate guilt. Her coils bunching up against one another and her claws having to grip the stones tight enough to crack one of them in her stalling.

One of the cobbles came loose and Jewel had to stumble to grasp another

Her wings splayed out and flapped once to finish arresting all of her momentum. The air set the footmen of Rochford to sway on their feet and pressed the closest of the crowd into their fellows.

The unintended flaring and arching of her neck stilled the crowd and all of her party.

The only sound was the still ongoing litany of desperate confession rising in a breathless rush at the wyrm's foreclaws.

Jewel stared down at the waif of a girl, she smelled less malnourished then the wyrm expected from her state of dress.

There was thin muscle and even a bit of fat to her.

But most of it was hidden under hair and the torn dress. Her shoes were simple leather and thin enough that the pattern of her toes was visible where they had pressed to the cobbles in her haste.

While Jewel was still trying to think of what to do about the sudden appearance of a prostrating young woman (who had just gotten to all the pies and fruit she had 'nicked' in her earliest years), the shouts of angry men and annoyed onlookers drew her to turn back up to the crowd. A pair of guards in heraldry of the Countess were pushing their way through.

A smell on them immediately struck Jewel.

She knew that smell.

"Ah There she is! Oh! Begging your mercy, Lady Jewel - we lost her in the alleys. But thanks for catching that lying whore."

Jewel glanced down at the woman, the smell of fear rising off of her. This woman did not look like even the cheapest ladies who traded virtue for coin in the follower's camp.

She didn't smell like they did either the few times Jewel had visited it.

Lying was not among the crimes she had been profusely admitting, except where it pertained to her thefts.

And Jewel could hear the truth in her words.

One of the guards stilled his approach to Jewel and the woman, staring up at the wyrm. The other however was either braver or more familiar with her from earlier visits.

He smelled like some of the soldiers did when they had gone to visit those tents Jewel actively avoided during the march.

He also smelled a bit like some of the houses and glens after a peasant's weddings.

And occasionally Jewel's own parent's room.

But even he stopped before approaching Jewel. A good pace away from the woman still pleading and admitting her crimes.

As she continued he finally seemed to catch onto what was going on.

"Well, I fancy that admittance is all proper, thanks again, Lady Jewel we just be taking this thieving rat to face the Countess' justice then the-"

Jewel knew what mortal terror smelled like.

She knew what a heart that was about to die sounded like.

She remembered the hungry emptiness of that thing from the Countess' larder.

The woman had choked into panicked silence on hearing what her fate would be.

Jewel's wing was between the man and the woman before he could take another step.

The fingers closed tight. But they could easily be snapped open. The angle if they did would have thrown him to the ground and likely cracked ribs.

Jewel's voice was not constrained.

It rumbled in the air, she could hear it echoing back to her as it shook in their bones.

"No."

She briefly saw the visage of the guards, consumed in her white flame. Blowing away as dust.

But a blink and they were simply mere men staring up at her frozen in terror.

For all that these were the appointed guard of Kaeketeh, Jewel could not find it in herself to pity them.

She was satisfied to find only two hearts were now rising to the tempo of assured death and the scent of relief pouring up from the ever so slowing panic of one at her feet.

How close had she been to killing them?

An eye's blink of lost control?

A fraction of an exhalation in anger?

What if she'd taken just that much longer to come to her senses?

Everyone was staring at her.

She needed to say something else.

Jewel pulled her neck tight again, she constrained her voice.

She eased her tension visibly and once more assumed the figure of a lady, the poise of the heir and Shining Wyrm of Viznove.

"She has surrendered to my justice, and I shall see that her crimes and trespass are seen too. Not you."

The silence lingered long after Jewel and her family resumed their walk to the keep.

Jewel's prisoner was lifted up by Smithson's grip on her arm. And held firm while he followed on foot.

Leaving Oxhoof to dutifully follow without need of any further guidance.

The crowd they left behind were quiet until Jewel was out of mortal earshot.

But she could hear the rising whispers.

 

[The Chilly One]

Yeah, feeding on the blood of your less fortunate subjects to give you unnaturally long life, and which also has the teeny-tiny problem of turning the ones you feed on INTO UNDEAD ABOMINATIONS THAT HUNGER ONLY FOR FLESH usually doesn't get much sympathy for your regime from people (or dragons) with some actual morals.

 

[Rayne-of-Faerie]

Yeah, feeding on the blood of your less fortunate subjects to give you unnaturally long life, and which also has the teeny-tiny problem of turning the ones you feed on INTO UNDEAD ABOMINATIONS THAT HUNGER ONLY FOR FLESH usually doesn't get much sympathy for your regime from people with some actual morals.

Click to shrink...

Idiotic. I would never lose an argument with a dragon. Never. Mainly because I would never have one.

"Ah she's babbling to them, out of my hands and in her claws what can ya do" *starts packing*

Edit: meant to reply to the main thread, still getting used to doing more than reading here sorry bout that

 

[Aabcehmu]

Jewel just created the precedent that, if someone thinks they prefer her justice to Bathory's, that they can just run up to her and beg for it.

I'm sure this won't be a problem in the near future.

 

[Zaealix]

At 3.4.
*Stares*
Jaska you Sham of a hedge mage!
What, Did. You! DO!?!
I never liked you from the moment you escalated to Kill orders on Jewel.
And to make matters worse? You've been too proud to admit you were in over your head!
To solve an illness of the Countess, you've crafted HUNDREDS of Ghouls!?!
You should have only needed one. At best, the first on to turn gets turned to scrap flesh and given to the Countess and if that is not enough you stop there!
Add to that your cowardice during the Thurzo campaign!?
Incompetent fool! No wonder you never made Weird! I bet you didn't just choose not to you never Could!

Edit:Oh, I am caught up at last! Mor ethoughts to come later.

 

[Lonzo34]

The long dark hair was not even done spilling out onto the street as Jewel stalled to a stop by the outpouring of desperate guilt. Her coils bunching up against one another and her claws having to grip the stones tight enough to crack one of them in her stalling.

One of the cobbles came loose and Jewel had to stumble to grasp another

Her wings splayed out and flapped once to finish arresting all of her momentum. The air set the footmen of Rochford to sway on their feet and pressed the closest of the crowd into their fellows.

Click to shrink...

How quicky was the procession moving, if Jewel couldn't stop on a dime? I was thinking they were proceeding with a fast walk at most (have to give the footmen time to move folks out of the way), but either the thief's confession shocked Jewel enough to almost knock her over at a standstill, or her family was moving along at a canter (which seems at bit fast for guards on foot).

 

[Nighzmarquls]

How quicky was the procession moving, if Jewel couldn't stop on a dime? I was thinking they were proceeding with a fast walk at most (have to give the footmen time to move folks out of the way), but either the thief's confession shocked Jewel enough to almost knock her over at a standstill, or her family was moving along at a canter (which seems at bit fast for guards on foot).

Click to shrink...

Jewel despite her attempts to the contrary is not a dainty little lady made of candyfloss and pixie dreams. She is a tube of meat, bone and potent primordial magic that is for most of her length bigger around then a horse and longer then a bus. They were going at a pretty decent walking clip and her momentum was doing the rest. And Jewel did stop on a dime, just not all of her stopped on a dime. If she coulden't stop on a dime the poor thief was going to meet a rather messy end or Jewel was going to have to go around/over her.

 

[Nighzmarquls]

4.8

Jewel was starting to suspect that it was actually impossible to do more than temporarily dampen the spirit of the Countess.

Was that a kind of madness?

A symptom of her illness?

At first she had thought the High King could manage it. But on reflection what she had seen and smelled were much less then she hoped they were.

Even when Jewel openly defied her justice and claimed her own right to decide the fate of a found criminal in the very heart of the Countess' demesne, there was not a hint of anger or disdain.

Jewel apparently was utterly delighting the Countess.

The feasting hall had been ordered for acts of court on short notice. It was quite improper for a matter of such low station as a thief to be brought to this room.

But Jewel's involvement had made it so.

The crime had been declared and recompense was to be decided.

The guilty had not stolen more than a knight's marks worth of coin or goods, even if you tallied up every single admitted theft in what Jewel was expecting was her entire life's career at thievery.

Honestly even that summation was a gross exaggeration.

There had also not been a single burglary in the admitted wrongdoing.

There had mostly just been food snatched from unwary customers of the cookeries in gate town. And considering she kept taking from some of them for years the thefts were likely known and being ignored.

Even if the punishment was to the absolute extent of Jewel's understanding in the matter, the thief would likely only have her left hand broken at worst.

This was a matter of the common law at best.

Something so below the esteem of this room that it should have given insult to bring it forth here.

But that was assuming it was somewhere other than Kaeketeh. Jewel had long since heard that the crimes of a woman and especially a young girl was officially to be taken into service under "the Countess's mercy".

Jewel had seen what the fate of those women was.

What they were used for.

This should have been an act of infuriating defiance against the Countess, her Father's liege and possibly even put Jewel's position as heir in jeopardy.

But Mother had been teaching her.

Jewel had still been hoping to at least annoy the fiendish woman.

Yet still Elizabeth smiled.

Sitting in her chair beside the still ominously-empty seat of the now long-passed Count Nádasdy, she was smiling warm as can be.

That void in that chair drew her attention.

The Black Knight of Viznove.

It was said he had perished from illness and infirmity sustained in war. Was that the truth? Jewel did not know.

But she truly did hate this woman.

Smiling as if she did not even see all the insults and disrespect laid out before her.

If she had not been completely caught by Elizabeth Bathory's schemes before Jewel would have thought her father's liege was simple.

But the truth was much worse.

This woman was, despite how horrible and careless she was of others, an incredibly happy woman.

She was of an absolutely sanguine humor to have a petty thief brought before a court meant for treason and matters of fines fit to ruin manors and knights.

And the witnesses of her court, although alert and attentive to the proceedings as due, were watching Jewel with what she suspected were jealous eyes.

None of them would have dared to stand in her place for this.

No one dared speak such thoughts in the same room as Jewel. But again Jewel's true mother had been teaching her well.

Finally her Father's liege chose to speak.

"I see, well far be it for me to deny my heir the opportunity to practice her own ideas regarding justice. The criminal is yours to judge and punish as you see fit my daughter. I release the guilty to the mercy of the Shining Wyrm of Viznove."

Jewel very much wished the woman would stop embellishing in the mere legal technicality of her adoption of the wyrm.

It was fooling no one in court and seemed to be something she did explicitly to make Jewel squirm.

For all the muddied confusion she had regarding the Countess' virtues there was one thing she had grown certain of.

Bathory was no one's Mother.

She might have borne children but she had not raised a single one of them. And she cared not at all for any of them. Jewel, with her bizarre and unchildlike spawn, was more of a mother than Bathory.

Still, she had stood in the court of Viznove and demanded the right to justice over a common thief and the final law below the High King had acquiesced without a hint of displeasure.

The Shining Wyrm of Viznove nodded.

"Then I pass the sentence that she shall serve me under bondage for five years and a day. And in the meantime I pledge as owing tithe next year to Viznove the full sum taken by her to clear reparations for the property lost to her crimes."

The Countess shrugged and waved to dismiss the matter. The Knights mark would sting, it pained Jewel to part with more silver from her family's coffers.

She was surely to lose out when that was weighed against the labors of a common thief from the city.

But denying even one more of those empty husks of a thing from the world was worth that.

And then with a clap of her hands the matter was over.

Except for the young woman openly weeping and thanking Jewel for her mercy, pledging vows of good service for her kindness and kneeling and even kissing at Jewel's feet.

It was all terribly awkward.

Jewel shook one of her forelegs to dry the wetness from the woman's lips from her fingers and called on her captain.

"Muriel, see that the convicted is given proper attire for one that will serve me and that we have secured her lodging and transport for after the wedding."

Which at least got the sobbing girl out of the hall.

Leaving Jewel standing alone in front of the Countess and all her court.

The majority of the lords in attendance were familiar with her from the march.

She had earned respect if not awe from those that had witnessed her Wyrmdoom.

And there was that bright and happy smile of the Countess that was both dismissive and delighted.

So cruel and nuanced.

Jewel hated it so much, but she still strived to be able to express half the nuance those lips and teeth could command.

"Well, with that trifling matter dealt with now we can move onto the far more important matters of the day. My son will not be arriving for another ten nights, but there is still much to do and prepare for our celebrations. This will however be mostly not of your concern, Lady Jewel."
From her seat Countess Elizibeth Bathory leaned forward.

"But tell me oh daughter and heir, besides the paltry service of some criminal street filth, is there a boon you would ask of me for your wedding?"

Jewel had honestly not expected to completely fail to ruffle the feathers of the Countess, she fully had prepared that the insult of the matter would have seen her stripped of any possible wedding gift.

But given the opportunity there was something she had been considering for most of the summers.

"If I could have a day's service from Jaksa the Red to see to one of my subject's troubles?"

Bathory raised a brow at that, but she was still smiling. There was also silent if obvious interest shifting amongst the attendant lords and ladies. Required to stand despite the Countess' apparent dismissal. Court was still in session until Jewel herself was dismissed.

"Oh, you have a need for the service of my wizard that cannot be performed by your father's own pledged sorcerer?"

Jewel nodded.

"Just so, I have found in my demesne one who has a struggle I believe he could aid in. On the advice of Tsulogothulan in fact."

Curiosity drew the Countess closer and with her the rest of the court present more openly showed their interest.

"Oh and who might this subject be?"

Jewel met the Liege of her father's eyes and delivered the words she had been waiting to see for most of a season.

"Her name is Bethica, Daughter of Belora, Grand-daughter of Orthica"
There was a brief furrow of confusion on the Countess Bathory's face but she still smiled. Jewel aimed for what she hoped would be a masterstroke to wipe that smug smile clean.

"And she is a talking cow."

She was, however, disappointed; the only person not surprised amongst the court of Kaeketeh was the Countess herself.

 

[Zaealix]

Hunh…
I suspect Bathory is pleased because if anything this puts Jewel deeper into debt with her, for one street rat she won't miss from her larders.
As for the cow surprise whiffing well.
The Countess probably recalls the time there were herds of talking cows…
But my personal interest is in that street rat.
Who will she become, under the watchful eye of the Shining Wyrm?
My personal bet as of right now is the next-gen Muriel… but we will see.

 

[I_S]

Hunh…
I suspect Bathory is pleased because if anything this puts Jewel deeper into debt with her, for one street rat she won't miss from her larders.
As for the cow surprise whiffing well.
The Countess probably recalls the time there were herds of talking cows…
But my personal interest is in that street rat.
Who will she become, under the watchful eye of the Shining Wyrm?
My personal bet as of right now is the next-gen Muriel… but we will see.

Click to shrink...

I think it's more a matter of the countess being unironically amused at Jewels antics.

Jewel is an endless font of minor wonders like from a children's story, the entire rest of her court is a nest of vipers desperately striking at each other and her with power hungry plots. Imagine if your entire month was filled with politics and then the elephant sized dragon noble came in all puffed up and tried to insult you by saving a street urchin because it was the "right" thing to do. Literally no other motives just a dragon kidnapping the opposite of a princess because of the dictates of knightly virtue. And then she begs for the gift of having your court wizard help a race of talking cows. It's like having a 5 year old show up in criminal court and demand the judge let their baby brother grow teeth so they can eat brownies too.

She knows she will one day for and that jewel will inherit, but jewel has all the guile of a 15 year old girl throwing her first incredibly polite tantrum. The countess is probably positively giddy at how these antics will be dealt with by less thick skinned but equally flammable nobles. She's guaranteed a naive tyrant wyrm will end up as the king of the country within ten years of her death and it is the most hilarious revenge on the king she can envision.
.

 

[Xicree]

Indeed the Countess is having the Time of her life, secured her legacy, and given a lovely middle finger to the king.

Even his interest in her vampires plays Directly into that... from both ends because they're a weapon near impossible to actually control and thus a future headache if unleashed... and the big bonus of making Jewel uncomfortable with the King's reign.

It's like since Jewel showed up... she just can't stop winning!

 

[Nighzmarquls]

4.9

Jewel was glad for the small mercy that it was mostly her parents that had to deal with Countess Bathory for the wedding preparations.

A landed lady she might be but her father was still Jewel's direct liege and head of her house.

That left her little responsibility but to confer with the cook staff and make sure that there was going to be no saffron anywhere in the food for her wedding celebrations, reminding them that the High King himself had lost favor for the seasoning when necessary.

This absence of duties also gave Jewel time to seek out Jaksa The Red's assistance with the situation of Bethica and her mute children.

Although as was usual for the man he seemed incredibly bored by the situation.

"Yes, Yes. It is almost certainly a matter of the thinning of the blood that carried the necessary gifts from the old minoan stock. Old Cantor inherited a great many of those old blood lines into its herds."

Jewel blinked a bit at that, it seemed far too simple. And furthermore did not match what she had been told.

"But surely then the pairings they did with the brothers to sisters and mothers to sons should have restored the purity?"
And for the first time in her knowing of him Jaksa the red was genuinely disgusted.

Not angry that she was questioning him, not indignant over his esteem being challenged.

Utterly disgusted.

He smelled of it too, the curdling of a rotten abattoir rising off of him strong enough Jewel was pretty sure it would have made anyone but a leather tanner gag.

"Hardly, the constraining of the blood lines has likely been making the whole problem so much worse. Star sent may give much wisdom but even base dogs know better than to cross the lines as closely as that.Truly it is a wonder that some vital sense is lost in beast and man when they are gifted by the heavens by enough words and thought."

His displeasure changed as he spoke into the more distant and less visceral dislike Jewel had seen before.

After a deep breath to further settle his mood he shook his head to Jewel.

"No, the simplest and easiest solution to your Bethica's problem with dull witted children is to have a speaking bull join her that is well and truly removed from her family lines."
Well that answered the question but where was Jewel going to find a bull that spoke well and had no close relation to Bethica? It's not like they were exactly common... were they?

Before she could even voice the question Jaksa was already speaking.

"I'll be recommending the countess to have a fine spoken and good pedigree bull from the pastures of epirus brought to you. Given time for dove flight and the delay of winter you should expect his arrival in Valasect by mid Birdbane. Now is there anything else?"

Jewel felt a bit off balance, first the Countess had surrendered to her attempt to undermine her authority and now the family curse of her newest friend was apparently solved in scarce hours.

"I admit Jaksa that I had thought you'd at least have had to visit Bethica to be sure of the cure. I only just learned of her this year but you are so certain of the remedy to the malady of her entire family line?"

Jaksa scoffed. Gaining the familiar affront he bore whenever questioned in his assertions.

"I am no weird and if I have my way I shall never suffer the curse of becoming one. But Bloodlines are a part of my truth. I'd know this as surely as Tsulogothulan knows the matter of frog mating or whatever."

Jewel blinked at that, considering Jaksa carefully.

"None of the wizards I've spoken to think ill of the Weirds. And all of them look forward to the deeper understanding of their truths."

Jaksa laughed at that, actually laughed!

It was so out of character she almost missed his words.

"Of course they would, All the ones you've spoken to already have gone too far to care."

His expression stilled again to the more placid but now more intense look. Considering her in a way she had never noticed from the man before.

"Have you ever asked what it is that they have given up for their closeness to the truth?"

Jewel was still baffled to have found such sudden new depths to what until now she had considered the least wizardly of all the wizards she had met.

Her silence drew more words from him with a frown.

"Fizzbunches has been a cat for so long no record can say if he ever wasn't one and the idiot can't think in a straight line to save his life. Urul would happily open up his own head and let you read his very mind as long as you did not stain the pages. Tsulogothulan cannot comprehend why anyone would mind the stink of rotten eggs or the taste of mud and has not had a proper body for at least a century."

He turned away from Jewel and looked at his own hands, the blood beneath his skin pulsed and flowed prominently, audibly to Jewel's ears.

It was not a heart that was beating it through him

The Blood of Jaksa the red moved his heart.

Not the other way around.

"Every Weird has given up so many parts of what it means to be a mortal man for their truth. By the time they are so deep they no longer see any reason to stop."

Jewel stared at Jaksa. She had thought that all those things he said were just the way to be a wizard.

That it was just how each of her friends and acquaintance sorcerers were.

But had it in fact been something within them that had changed in time?

Was it some pact for power like in the tales?

"I apologize for any offense Lord Sorcerer Jaksa the Red. I didn't know you thought of it like that."

He shrugged at that and smiled, genuinely smiled for the second time she had ever seen him although he then frowned immediately with a suspicious glint.

"You are a suspiciously easy to talk to creature, Lady Jewel of Valasect. It is a strange thing to be so understood."

It was then Jewel's turn to shrug, she did so with wings and forelegs both in a little tumbling roll of motion through all four shoulders.

"I could not say, you seem quite legible to me. Not like Euewyn. It took me so long to realize what the sound of mist settling on frozen birch bark was supposed to mean."

Jaksa snorted in laughter at that and shook his head, a third smile twisting his face.

"Well, is there anything else you wish of me, Lady Jewel? The countess has pledged a whole day of my service to you as an early wedding gift."

Which drew a deep sigh of annoyance from Jewel that she was pretty sure was inspiring a fourth smirk offered as camaraderie in suffering from the wizard.

"No Jaksa, I won't keep you from your duties, go do whatever it is you would rather spend time on for the day. You've solved more in these few words than I thought could be done in an entire day."

He bowed to her, and then in what she now tried not to judge him for, the Red Wizard turned and exited through the door like any mortal man.

And walked down the hallway of Kaeketeh Keep until well past the range of even Jewel's hearing.

 

[Nighzmarquls]

4.i

Of the rolling hills and rocky shores of Cantor much can be said. The lands are blessed by both azure waters and numerous coastlines. The sky vault is high compared to the biting chill of shallower realms and in all but deepest winter the shadow of the great northern pillar never falls over the the verdant hues of olive groves and vineyards.

In all its lands the soils are of fertile abundance for the good bidding of Mother Earth for she holds great love of wine and merriment.

Thick fields of wheat colour many rolling hills golden brass most seasons. And along the shores are either rounded stones or soft sands depending on the disposition of the land.

Amidst the golden seas of grain are also the great profusions of grape vineyards and groves of gnarled and venerable olive trees.

Where the land is not dominated by grain there are then the pastures of the fine and wonderful herds of cattle. The most prized specimens of which are from epirus and in particular the vast bulls matching in size and muscle to an elephant and renowned for their recital of poetry that bests the wit of senators.

But even the lesser breeds of cantoran taurus are expected to host one or two orators in a herd capable of simple discourse in clear and civil speech.

At the shores are the fishing villages and their labyrinthine roads which twist in every which way. From the sea they pull their bounty daily with the blessings of the seven winds and their seagods.

Tuna and Porpoise are especially prized fish but even the lessers are made well use of in the fine succor of garum.

Although the works where the wonderful sauce is made are set well down wind of all but the least of habitation.

And I would be remiss in not mentioning the cities of Cantor, but especially the shining jewel of cities herself from which the Cantor is taken.

Capital of the Dynasty of the Sun lands.

Home of a million souls, seat of the senate,

Teeming brick buildings stack three to four apartments high and dozens deep off each road.

With the voices of all the far flung realms and their many languages meeting here.

Spice and meat from every land whether over skypass, underway or seachannel they all came to the market streets here.

The City of Cantor, Heart of the Dynastic Sun's Blessed Lands.

- Excerpt from Orion's Historica naturalis Cantora

 

[Nighzmarquls]

4.ii

If I never have to take another step up stairs for the rest of my life it will be too soon.

Also the Seer of the Mountain Shialtza is a God Serpent!

More to write later, my calves ache so.

-Excerpt from the travel log Pythra of Veracules

 

[Zaealix]

Jaska you Arrogant Piece OF-!

No no, I get it. He's the embodiment of the 'Vampire' half of Bathory's Legacy. The Countess is a projection of what the woman must have been like to draw such ire for her to have not only been overthrown but also labeled a vampire during or in the aftermath of such a thing.
One can hold debts without becoming a pariah for it!

He so much feels like the sort of idiot who would believe in ideals like 'save the man, kill the Indian' instead of seeing it as justification for so much cultural destruction!

Gaaah. Or maybe I'm equating him to such as a crystallization of not liking his vibes.

Not seeking to go full Weird? Bah. BAH I say! Weird get it. The way get that they cannot do everything, if Tsu or even freaking Fizz with how arrogant that little feline can be! For all that cat's arrogance he was willing to go so far as to beg to save a man's life. He might be more Wizard then most Wizards in fiction and irreparably associated them with cats in my head but at least he knows the value of life!