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

[Zaealix]

Gem's a kid, and even if she is mixed and merged with Jewel, the way she feels can influence the wyrm…
Ah tailoring eh?
Well I am not surprised. The need for Cant, is because Gem can't speak, and she's too young to appreciate the, utility of a proper corset.
And maybe possibly never will but we are quite a few years off from That!

As for the draperies…Hrum…
Do these hang off the waist? The back?…The front like a high-ranking Catholic's robes?
Either way, I suspect Gem would have more luck with more modern modern? Styles like the famous little black dress, or maybe a sundress. Things like that.
But having said all that the Tailor…I feel as though letting him go for that was a bit much but only barely. Depending on how much information he had to work with about Gem's preferences I can see him having been grating to begin with and that being the last straw.

 

[Nighzmarquls]

11.5

Jewel mused on how similar she was to the isle she stood upon.

The rock and stone broke the waters around them and held aloft a keep at a great height from the silty banks and depths of the Vah.

The sun half eclipsed by the western peaks as it slowly slipped away from the vault of the sky.

And here amidst a Festival as much made by her own command as the seemingly endless effort of the people around her Jewel felt like this island. Her neck well above all of them as they moved around her.

Currents and eddies of conversation. All but three of her vassals in attendance, and of those that were not here a trusted heir or other representative was still present.

Twenty-Eight households or entourages poured into the grounds of the Kaeketeh Keep.

Hundreds of meals made for them all. The price for hospitality provided to so many was an astounding cost in silver.

Not as much as that which was spent on Jewel's wedding. The accounts of Viznove would be bled dry attempting even half that so often. Bathory's death was still far too recent after the expenses had been made.

But still it was the single greatest weight exchanged in silver Jewel had ever personally counted.

And yet even with all the riches spent on this single day Jewel had followed the exchange. In tithes, tax and fee Viznove would fill her treasury once more by next year.

The accounts going back years promised that she would make back this loss and more. And also despite her panic when she first saw the coffers on coffers of silver that were draining out of Viznove the silver itself did not go all that far.

Just as paying a peasant in her demesne hardly was a diminishing of the wealth of Valasect?

Viznove would lose very little treasure on this day and night of revelry.

The fasting was about to break.

And she knew from the grumbling stomachs that those who were not experienced in the traditional festival were suffering for it.

But she was the Countess and she would have a proper Summer Harvest Festival.

Even if it was a late one.

Jewel had been surprised to learn that Kaeketeh did not practice the ceremony of the black wheat bread as Rochford, Valasect and many other 'provincial' baronies did.

She had been even further surprised by the astounding price that was attached with importing the necessary grains to her bakeries. A good quarter of the expense in food went to that one indulgence.

But it was the tradition and she already saw the signs in the crowd of who followed it.

You could almost cut the vassals and their households in two by those that had anticipatory gleam to their eyes for what would come and those that held the small rounds with confusion waiting for the sign to eat them. There were whispers who grumbled and complained that they had to wait an entire day to partake.

Jewel might have been lenient. Practiced something more local and less familiar to herself.

But she had already missed the Dance of the Summer Harvest Festival once.

Jewel was the Countess of Viznove, She was a married lady and the final law under no other than the High King himself.

She could treat with the gods and be acknowledged like an equal.

Guild masters bowed to her and offered riches so she might deign to spin wool.

Her very words said in anger could curse thousands of men.

So Jewel would have her summer harvest festival exactly as she wished it!

Yes they were her vassals, ordered here by her command. Followed by their retinues and families further commanded by bonds of fealty.

But so were the peasants of her demesne.

And unlike with the people bound to the land by familial contract her vassals had sworn allegiance to her personally. In exchange for her power to protect them and her concessions to enrich their own vaults.

All the endless haggling and dealing.

All their whispering and conspiring that she caught them in and then mercifully forgave.

They could all of them join her for a party and a dance for a single night at the end of summer and celebrate as she wanted too for once.

So they fasted during the day.

The temples were attended and Jewel and her vassals saw to their roles in such rituals as the gods of Kaeketeh required.

The rest was a time for leisure with the only requirement that all who attended for tonight ate nothing and drank only water before the feast.

A little hunger would do some of them good even!

Now at last in the evening a bounty of sufficiently spiced noble fare alongside simple well made breads was filling tables upon tables in the open air of the courtyard.

Here Jewel accepted a break from tradition, for the sake of her daughter and the palette of some of the guests. As a concession to her husband and the insistence of her master of kitchens.

Spices were in play and far more dishes than Rochford or Valasect had ever held for their summer feasts.

Sweet honey glazed cakes and more traditional simple pale bread.

A half dozen different Beasts slaughtered for the evening. Some served whole such as pig and the water birds. Others cut and glazed or ground into smoked sausages.

For Gem's constitution, candied pork crisped in honey and pepper was made. Her daughter still could not stomach bread. And was a bit young besides to imbibe the black wheat. But for any man or woman of her court who could consume it the sacramental bread was in their hands.

Tsulogothulan stood to one side as they had during Father's events. Watching intently.

And then as the sun dipped behind the western mountains and cast a warm shadow over Kaeketeh the great bonfires were lit and she said the words.

The speech was the same as it always was.

"The Hungry Summer has passed. And by your labors we have prospered!"

Of the nobles looking up to her as she spoke, perhaps only half of them were 'provincial' enough to even know what Jewel was talking about. But these were the words her father had spoken every year he oversaw the summer harvest festival.

"Together we have hungered through the summer and lived. Together we have remembered those that could not be with us by our own hunger."

The words that her father had spoken ten days earlier for Rochford's own celebration. There he was among the crowd before her, his eyes seemed to be shining far more than was proper for a man.

"I swear to you as your countess and lady, that I will always hunger with you. That I will stand for you, I will strike back against all your enemies. Be they hunger or thieves, beasts or lairspawn, wyrm or despoilers."

The only change she made to the words was to acknowledge her own title. But as the words passed her lips Jewel felt her flames rise higher and stronger within her coils.

Alexander stood proudly beside the pony sized Blizzardwrath. The Gryphon Eyrie finally had deemed his bond trained enough to travel without risking the lives of strangers. Her brother beamed up at her.

"I will guard you, I will be here, until my last breath! Let us now revel, for the hungry summer is over and we still stand!"

She belted out the last part of the proclamation as her father always had, strong and full. Leaning into her deeper voice.

Feminine yet commanding.

"Now Eat and Be Merry!"

And she took up the relatively tiny round of black wheat bread. She bit twice for effect then swallowed hard and audibly. At the signal the musicians took up the melody of the carolla dance and nearly all her guests ate the black wheat rounds.

And finally after over a year without it Jewel was able to dance. The nobles and their families were slow to immediately take to a proper carola. Many moved immediately to take up food at the feasting tables.

That was fine.

There would be a whole night for them to do their part.

But the staff of Jewel's keep, her footmen and most welcome of all her family all were quick to join her. Father, Mother, Alexander and even little Gwenn were with her in the dance.

Tsulogothulan moved with the music in a sinuous sway that as much mirrored the rhythm as it did the currents of the river itself around them. The way the faux fire moved in the air with the river was slow and sluggish to change at first. Sticky where Rochford and valasect had smoothly moved, familiar with the steps expected of them.

But Kaeketeh's air was resistant and uncertain to the meaning of the dance and song.

Jewel pressed on, she sang with the musicians. Her voice pulled at the confused air until it found the music within her.

The Bog Weird moved with her and the rest of her guests and family together. A few hilariously bold noble men (and one woman) braved the clammy touch of the Wizard and were swept into a near boneless flurry of motion for their trouble.

As Jewel danced more and more of her vassals and other guests found the feeling of the music as well.

Settling around her and the bonfires.

As the current built up Tsulogothulan drew up glittering arcs of clear water from their sleeves, tracing the motion through the air.

Gem spun in skirts that were only just finished in their final stitch this morning. Hand in hand with Gwenn and another child who Jewel thought was probably Lord Sergej's son but she was not entirely sure. Her snout was filled with a heady cloud of smoke, spices and sweat amid so many moving bodies.

The music was joined with a rhythmic call of frogs, crickets, the wind in reeds.

The sky shone in silvery starlight.

Jewel was above and over all of these moving and rippling crowds of people. But with just a soft dip of her sweeping neck she could flow and dance among them!'

She swam as part of them and moved with each, looping from one bonfire to another. The sharp sting of the herb bundles burnt in offering in each fire further mixing and blending the scents. She danced, the music flowed and slowly as the evening progressed she felt her vassals find the fullness of the dance.

The sound of the river growing loud and the stars far above shining all the brighter.

Jewel could feel the current of it all running through her every motion and that of her dancing throng of guests. The temptation to let it sweep her away and leave her exhausted come morning itched deep in her spine.

It was ultimately Gem's young muscles which demanded she retire this time. Her spawn lacking endurance even when filled to near bursting with wyrmflame. The little legs and back could not sustain the carolla's demands for a full night.

Her little eyes drooped despite every effort to avoid it. Her movements became clumsier and more sluggish. So a few hours into the evening Jewel bowed to her subjects and bid them goodnight as she retired to her chambers with Paul and Gem.

Her parents and sister had fled to their guest quarters far earlier.

Only Alexander was still dancing, Blizzardwrath chirping and bounding around with him. Both bursting with youthful energy. The Gryphon already far larger than her brother, taller than him half again when reared back on hind limbs.

Alexander caught her glance as she said her goodbyes and she dipped her head with a smile.

His own grin was bright as can be, his arm raised high to wave.

It was just as well they retired early.

Poor paul was mumbling something about the stars and constantly running his fingers over and over on her scales. It seemed that the black wheat had hit her husband very hard. But that was fine.

She gently helped guide him to their chambers to sleep off the effects of the sacrament.

It was a good celebration.

It was not a whole night dancing like she had in her youth.

But Jewel was a married woman, soon to be eighteen winters old and she had to see to her family.

Even if both her hearts yearned to keep going until she collapsed in a heap.

Maybe next year when Gem was stronger.

 

[Zaealix]

Ah, to be young. And yet I would argue with Jewel that I still consider her closer to child then adult!
But, I suspect the arguement might end up going in circles due to disagreement when one becomes an adult…

 

[I_S]

What happened to Paul there?

Is the black bread ergot rich?

 

[Nighzmarquls]

11.6

Jewel found Smithson and her husband were less than enthused by how rapidly they had to depart after the late Summer Harvest Festival.

But despite the discomfort and moaning her party was ready and already riding.

Kliatbatrn, as the closest of her trusted vassals, would oversee the needs of Noble Law in Kaeketeh. She would have preferred to have another year with Paul to watch over the city and the courtly business of Viznove.

But the High King had called.

"And you do this every year?"

Paul shivered despite his thick traveling coat, the lingering touch of the black wheat apparently sticking with her husband longer than anyone else in the group. Jewel wondered if some of the less 'provincial' of her guests might also be suffering as he did.

Smithson laughed with her. His voice reverberated through her smaller back.

Making her spawn self acutely aware of her new travel clothes.

It seemed absurd to make them so small but Gem had so far failed to manifest very much growth despite her age. Gwenn was now a good foot taller than her!

Her recently declared attending Knight responded with a knowing smile.

"Just abouts yeah, don't worry just make sure you have enough beer and that you don't stare much at anything. I try not to look at my meals for a good day or two afterwards. It tends to keep crawling for hours the first morning."

Jewel sighed and chuckled along with smithson. She could not afford to see how the other guests fared due to their constrained schedule but imagined the soft among them might be dealing with something similar this morning.

Alas they had to depart as soon as the sun rose or else she might risk missing her appointed summons by an entire season!

Even at a solid march their party would take essentially the entirety of grain turn and then some well into debt season to reach the capital. If their itinerary was delayed in their travels it could be even longer. Which Muriel assured it very well could be.

The march was a proper entourage.

Jewel, Smithson (with Gem), Paul and Muriel at the head.

Almost thirty Valasect footmen, Dariusz and his family, horse enough for all of them and then further hackneys and mules for their luggage and supplies.

Joining them for this leg of the journey was also Father, Mother, Gwenn, Alexander and her family's household. Bromthil was taking up the rear with Father's footmen. Deeming that the actual threats would avoid ambushing a dragon, the Rochford footmen were also more experienced in woodland fighting on the road.

Mother and Father were near the rear of the party, Mother with her usual after summer harvest wineskin. Her parents were usually quiet and slow each summer. And this year they had partaken of the black wheat twice in ten days!

She had never felt the effects despite eating it every year.

But like the bite of cold and the cut of fire Jewel assumed this was due to her wyrmish nature.

"Ugh! This is what every provincial lord goes through every year?!"

Jewel hummed with a deep resonance before letting the words free from her throat.

"It is the way of Rochford, from the look of them none of the River baronies or shore demesne practice it. But within the interior and along the northern hills? Lord Mertod from Ox glen and Lady Petra of Ostara were familiar with what was coming."

Muriel nodded along with it.

"They both host some of the largest fields of wheat and barley in Viznove and often have the longest raining season. The black wheat is a blessing of rain gods, The temples will give alms or silver for any heads or seed marked with the char of sky fire's touch come threshing. In the smaller villages the wise women also covet it and pay good silver or favors."

Jewel winced at the mention of the price of black wheat.

"Indeed! Buying enough for the sacrament of just the guests and bringing it to Kaeketeh was nearly more expensive than the spices for the feast."

They were making good time on the dry roads of grain turn.

They should make Hożanka's inn well before nightfall with the still long summer days. Jewel was looking forward to seeing her Kitchen Master's mother and how she would embarrass him.

In Rochford they would resupply but the nearly thirty days expected of solid travel forbade any but a single night's rest. At least there was not going to be any mud or flooding expected in grainturn.

Word was the roads should be clear to the Capital. Although if they made poor time they might be caught in a skyway in debt season. The chill of winter was said to never leave some passes. Although the Cantor road they took had been cut wide enough for two full armies to be able to pass one another, with carts and all!

"Is there anything for the aches in my arms and legs? I know I didn't dance all that hard surely?!"

Her dear precious husband continued to groan and complain just like a child after their first taste of a Summer's Harvest sacrament.

It spread another chuckle through the crowd of Rochford natives surrounding him. Jewel was unable to contain the full bellied outburst of squealing delight that tore its way out of Gem and then echoed back from her larger throat.

Her husband scowled a bit but his lips kept quirking towards a smile and for all his stated displeasure his eyes were joyful.

Jewel finally got both forms of her laughter under control enough to speak.

"Apologies husband, but It's just most children in Rochford have gone through this very thing and complain just as you do. It's very endearing honestly. For you to complain as a grown man of seventeen winters!"

Muriel for some reason started laughing and shaking her head at that. Muttering "grown man" although Jewel did not know why. Still the jovial air continued, a good mix with the pre-autumn warmth of the day.

Even Gem's slight frame could appreciate the way it was neither too hot nor cold. Soothing, refreshing, warming and pleasant all around.

Just a lick of sweat to the air from man and horse to mingle and perfume the scent of the forest and dry dirt of the road. Moss and leaves exhaling faintly into the gentle wind of final summer amidst the hills and valleys of Viznove.

Jewel flexed her wings as they came upon another clearing in the canopy. Offering sheltering shade for her party and invigorating sunlight for herself.

A tall grassed meadow with a low hill of collapsed stone and long rotted timbres.

Likely some old cantoran fort or perhaps other waystation.

Small furry creatures left their scent on the stones there and when Jewel called silently to them she heard a sleepy fuzziness of many warm days just like this one. The voice of the stones murmuring and mumbling with the gentle wind. Trees sang and cheered to the sky, drinking the sun greedily for these last few days before their slumber.

Moss hummed and burbled, in places hissing and complaining where a break in the canopy let too much brightness through.

All of it a slow and steady chorus that welled up around Jewel.

Following the steady slow beat of her feet and hands brushing the dirt of the path. Her coils rising and falling in a smooth wave almost drifting on the wind for how full and flushed she was in Wyrmflame.

"What thoughts consume you dear wife?"

Paul's words startled her out of the steady rhythm and sway of the world. Causing her step to skip and scrabble a bit at the dirt. Her wyrmflame rising a bit too much to get a proper grip. Leading to a few flails in air before she released enough to land and gain traction again.

"Ah! Apologies dear husband, I was just listening to the forest."

He was quiet for a moment, almost long enough for Jewel to conclude her answer was enough and that she might resume her pass time. But then he spoke, softer voiced and with a hint of wonder.

"What does it sound like? To you that is?"

Now it was Jewel's turn for quiet, considering the welling up of the world. The voices that were unheard and the wordless meaning.

She considered what she couldn't feel when alone as only Gem.

"Sleepy, the rocks, the stones, the dirt, the trees. They are calm, they move slowly. Like a sleepy griffon or great hounds. The youngest saplings and shrubs mewl for drops of sunlight, the eldest almost rumble and shift at their pleas. Some parcel sun through their roots to their progeny. Others stand and shroud the youths, smothering them even now."

Tsulogothulan spoke up in reply.

"Just So. Just So."

For some reason Paul was startled enough to drive his horse a few steps ahead.

 

[Zaealix]

Paul cannot sense the flow of the world, which is probably important for telling when a Weird is coming.

 

[MrHobbit]

I forgot to comment earlier, but the confrontation over Gem was long coming, and written well! It makes sense that Jewel wouldn't be composed over everyone denying what she tells them. Jewel getting so depressed and potentially coming close to death over frightening Gwenn was sobering. Smith's perspective on it was also written well. It was really funny for him to tell Jewel that she was not just an adult, but a child too. The 'first' word was funny too. I really liked the clothing scene too; most four year old children aren't going to be excited about that!

The summer harvest festival was interesting. I liked the comment about protecting her subjects from wyrm and lairspawn.

I'm curious about what relationship Shialtza held with his wyrmspawn. And what other tyrant wyrms think of their wyrmspawn too. Are they typically better adjusted than Jewel? Do wyrmspawn start developing more distinct personalities the more of them there are? We'll probably get a better idea as Jewel has more spawn.

What did Tsulogothulan's think about Jewel saying that she shares a mind with Gem. We've never seen them say anything about it or a hint of their perspective. I could see the weird believing Jewel, but we haven't really seen anything about that. I wouldn't be surprised if there were other instances of hive minds (ish) and Tsulogothulan just didn't mention it to Jewel's family. I could see them disbelieving Jewel, but it's never mentioned. Weirds are different to the extent that I can't confidently guess.

 

[Nighzmarquls]

What did Tsulogothulan's think about Jewel saying that she shares a mind with Gem. We've never seen them say anything about it or a hint of their perspective.

Click to shrink...

Their response has been confused that no one was actually believing jewel. But their just as confused as to why people are upset when the room smells like sulphuric mud.

Most weirds gave up explaining their weirdness to normal people a century ago.

 

[Nighzmarquls]

11.7

As they came out of the covering canopy of the High Forest Jewel stilled in her step. Eyes taking in the terribly familiar landscape.

The bodies were years gone. Eaten by Gryphons, buried or burned. The Village had been rebuilt after a fashion, Herds and plantings had been made but the land was still scarred.

Sorcery's mark had turned much good soil and farmland into tangled hillocks of stone riddled earth and clay or other even stranger and more twisted magical detritus. The Fauxfire in the air was still and yet what had been changed by the battle remained changed.

And what had been rebuilt was not where it had once been. The village was now a collection of buildings clinging to A single cobbled road that cleaved through the valley where Fizzbunches had called it forth. Lost were the weaving, curving packed earth and dirt paths that had been before. And even what fields and fences had been restored after the trampling by armies and wizardry were scattered.

Much land was still abandoned.

There were patches everywhere that had been left fallow.

In one the scrabble and shrubbery that grew there did so with a color and shape of illuminated manuscripts of foliage rather than natural vitality. With leaves that looked like dried parchment and colors that were pale, dead or unnaturally vibrant. Some even edged in the shine of gold.

These splatters of the workings of Urul sprouted in single shrubs or in two places entire expansive murals of wild flowers and meadows.

In other fields the grass grew red and glistening. Scattered across pastures in splashes and whorls. Arcs that mirrored where blood was spilled. Even from the edge of the forest she could still smell the iron-rich tang.

The touch of Jaksa the red.

What once had been good ground to sow wheat, barley or peas were tumults of stone and building.

Entire heaping piles of brick, rubble and shingle were contorted through once soft soil and twisted buildings tangled and wrestled one another where meadow had been. Some had fallen in their abandonment but scattered brick towers twisted and strained against fortress walls yet in places.

Frozen in the throes of their battle.

Only lightly wrapped in vines and living growth.

The marks of Fizzbunches and Veoul.

In other places the soil dipped low into divots and sudden chasms. Where soggy pools of swamp reeds sprouted. A great wedge of marsh marked where Tsulogothulan had held against the Weird of Fortresses.

And so much more scattered across the lines of conflict. Where Jewel remembered the less obvious wizard's workings had touched sometimes it had merely been fire and was now mostly tilled over.

But then there were sudden copses of trees. Grown far too large and pale for the time since the battle. White bark and crimson or yellow leaves. Old woods over tall for the few years since they sprouted.

Amidst the trunks Jewel could see briars with thorns as long as a man's arm and nearly as thick. The lines of sudden trees crisscrossing the landscape like the gashes of a wildly swung knife.

Euewyn's scars.

And with all the ruin made of the land the signs of farm and people had diminished.

When Jewel had first seen this valley the buildings of its village were almost three times the number that had since been rebuilt.

And what structures were here now took on a mixed appearance. Wood timbres that seemed strange and a mix match. Brickwork and stone that was a medley of the solid hard stones of the fortress and the small little bricks of city buildings.

The place of Jewel's first and last battle was stark.

Made all the more so that except for one place her Wyrmdoom was the least ruinous mark upon the land. A slight furrow in the earth in a few places. Already evened out and made productive if the scythed bristle of wheat was anything to go by.

But one of the towers of the fortress was still aborted abruptly. Some of its stones had tumbled in the years and seasons since to make its broken edge jagged. But otherwise the place Veoul had been slain.

No one had acted to repair it.

Jewel's only surviving mark on this valley was no longer a perfectly straight ending where wyrmflame had engulfed and unmade stone, timbre and wizard.

It was a broken, damaged place.

Jewel's words came to her unbidden, soft and fragile.

"There is so much left of the battle."

In the wake of one conflict a ruin had been enacted on what had once been rough but fertile fields.

After surveying the desolation for longer than was strictly proper Jewel led her party onward.

They walked on the straight smooth cobbles, one of Muriel's footmen had acted as vanguard and she could see that her banners were raised in welcome and assurance on the walls of the distant fortress.

But moving along the far too straight and orderly way through the terribly still village bothered Jewel. What men and few women she saw stared at her with a deadness in their eyes.

Something beyond fear.

The eyes of rabbits who already knew they were caught in a snare.

The ones who could not even raise the breath to scream in their despair.

On either side Jewel could not deny what she saw. Pasture was abandoned, far overgrown beyond what any cow, goat or sheep would leave. Fields all over that had never seen tilling or planting for years.

The buildings were carefully built. Thick walled for the harsher highland winters. But they were far from numerous.

There had once been a village here.

Technically they might have rebuilt one.

But now it was hardly a hamlet.

Where armies and fortifications had been settled around the keep were now scattered buildings huddled close to the straight cut road.

Like a single line of Kaeketeh's midtown had been dredged up in the midst of farmland.

Fizzbunches' road had been claimed and slowly built around. But there was a presence to the shadows between those few structures that had been erected along this cutting path.

Jewel could hear a mother cat nursing her kittens in the loft of one of the houses.

A pair of toms wrestling and clawing at one another in a shadow.

It was a sign of life but all but smothered by the still and staring peasants that did not labor as Jewel knew they should be. They watched her pass. All eyes upon her. Too afraid to let Jewel out of their sight.

Standing outside their simple houses, or from within door frames. They all watched Jewel passing.

The stink of fear and sweat choking the air around them.

Paul whispered to her.

"Are we sure we are welcomed guests here?"

Jewel nodded to her husband and spoke softly, the sound of her voice made the villagers tremble. But none of them fled, she almost wished they would. But even the children were stuck still as they stared.

Her words made them tremble like leaves.

"My friend the Count of Arva promised our passage as guests in his lands and to accompany our party to the capital from here."

The old temple had been utterly destroyed some time in the fighting.

In its place was something almost worse than nothing.

These poor people barely even had a roofed-over shrine. Packed with statues and idols, many of which were cracked or damaged. A brief reminder of the original temple half torn asunder by the first strikes of Wizard Fire.

Paul nodded to that.

"I don't recall hearing much respect f-from my mother's court for Arva. So I suppose he cannot be that bad."

She could only nod again, not wanting to spook these terrified peasants anymore with her voice.

Jewel picked up the pace and no one in her party questioned it, the horses settling into an easy trot as they fled the too small village that was practically squeezing in as close to the fort's walls as the security of the fortifications would allow.

Thurzó had promised to meet them here in the southernmost holding of Arva.

But at the state of the village and the furtive and sparse population of peasants Jewel wondered how well this land could afford to host anyone.

By her ear and sight there could not be more than a hundred able bodied men in the valley. Maybe twice that in children and women if she was generous and assumed more were in the woods beyond her sight.

But Jewel was not hopeful of that, the woods around here felt wild and agitated by the presence of all but Jewel. Almost offended by any that dared touch the roots or press the branches.

The trees around this valley smelled of biting autumn well outside the season for it. Random branches were already heavy in fiery colors a good season early. And in places thicker dark bark had fallen away to reveal the all too familiar silvery white of a certain Weird.

Their party left behind the sad imitation of a village and its far too small and few households. Not enough women, far too few children.

Entering into the no-man's land between the fortress' walls and the new site the peasants had set their homes. Jewel noted it would be a very short run indeed to get from even the farthest house and into the walls.

The placing of the meager settlement speaking to a fear just as profound as the one held by the staring populace.

Jewel could not find any words.

It had been years, but in many places the scars of the battle were practically fresh. Scarred over in new growth maybe. In places stone and timbres had been salvaged.

But on the whole the former battle felt like a just barely scabbed over wound.

The world was duller and more subdued. Tangled and confused in the medley of abandoned workings and sorcerous signs.

"Ho Countess of Viznove! Be welcome to High Forest Castle!"

Jewel was thankful when finally the footmen stationed at the fort called out to them. The Rochford and Thurzó banners set on equal prominence at either side of the gate. A sign of life and warmth after the disturbing, terrified stillness of the village.

But that relief stalled as they made their way into the courtyard and she saw a far too familiar and entirely too smug black cat with a floppy red hat sitting prim and proper in the middle of the fortress courtyard with footmen in a line to either side of him.

Eyes shining golden with delight.

As her party approached Fizzbunches of the alleys, Esteemed Lord Sorcerer and Weird of the Demesne of Ghergeintat dipped his head into a bow that somehow made him seem more insulting than acknowledging.

"Jewel of House Rochford, Lady of Valasect and Kaeketeh, Shining Wyrm and Countess of Viznove. I Fizzbunches, Out of obligation and honor of my circle to fulfill our promise and pledge of protection to your father and family come to humbly escort you in your travels beyond the Vault of the Ridgetail Mountains."

If they were alone in the woods, or even indoors Jewel might have refused the smug cat outright for his offer.

But in front of her party?

In full view of all of these footmen of Arva?

Just past the gate of her friend the Count Thurzó and on the eve before they would both depart for the capital together to see the High King?

Jewel was the Countess of Viznove, Fizzbunches and his circle had been instrumental in the very victory she had won here. They were supposed to be fast allies and he comes out here in front of everyone declaring that he owed Jewel aid and assistance for this journey?

If she refused it would be a sign of weakness.

Mother's lessons clenched on her heart.

If she showed such a blatant and public insult to her ostensible allies from a circle of Wizards it would weaken Viznove's position.

And unlike in her youth Jewel was now certain Fizzbunches was doing this on purpose.

She could not even afford to sigh in exasperation with so many eyes on her.

Fortunately Gem's lungs could heave for the rest of her in exasperation.

While her wyrmish throat and tongue worked to express all the grace and dignity a strong ally of a countess deserved.

"Lord Sorcerer Fizzbunches, I accept and welcome this sign of loyalty to our alliance. You may join me in my travels. Now shall we present ourselves to our host Count Thurzó of Arva?"

The smug cat grinned with pearly white fangs and his eyes shined even brighter. And as he had before nearly eight years ago he spun in place and began marching ahead of them to the main entrance of the keep where arrangements could be settled for their welcoming feast and presenting to her friend's court.

Jewel spared a glance for her party.

Smithson was sizing up the Thurzó men. Muriel was arranging for the room and board of her footmen.

Dariusz and his family had already slipped away to see to the kitchen things with whatever staff Thurzó had brought to the keep.

The only one that was not already busying themselves was her Husband.

Paul was making a face that suggested she and him would have things to talk about that evening regarding wizards.

She wondered precisely what though? Jewel had told her husband about Fizzbunches before.

She had in fact complained at length about the Weird of Ghergeintat and his manners.

As Jewel stepped forward and her husband swung out of his saddle he leaned over and whispered only just loud enough for Jewel to hear.

"You never said that Fizzbunches was a cat!"

 

[Zaealix]

…Why is he a cat?
I kind of want to ask this of Fizzbunches in-character. Because a part of me wonders, was he always a cat, or did this happen to him at some point.

I figure there's no way I get a straight answer from the Lord Sorceror, but I figure having whatever non-answer will let me have something other then endless rumors running through the alleys of my mind!

 

[I_S]

…Why is he a cat?
I kind of want to ask this of Fizzbunches in-character. Because a part of me wonders, was he always a cat, or did this happen to him at some point.

I figure there's no way I get a straight answer from the Lord Sorceror, but I figure having whatever non-answer will let me have something other then endless rumors running through the alleys of my mind!

Click to shrink...

I believe he has grasped weird of cities in a particular way

He is cat burgler and alley cat, stray cat and feral tom.

An obscure background piece of a medieval city, the meowing populace that keeps rats at bay.

In one of the interludes I think it was mentioned he pick pocketed a wizard when he was a young street orphan, and he built on that base to become the weird of alleys and streets.

 

[Cecylene]

I believe he has grasped weird of cities in a particular way

He is cat burgler and alley cat, stray cat and feral tom.

An obscure background piece of a medieval city, the meowing populace that keeps rats at bay.

In one of the interludes I think it was mentioned he pick pocketed a wizard when he was a young street orphan, and he built on that base to become the weird of alleys and streets.

Click to shrink...

There is a reason it's called out by others that Fizzbunches is physically incapable of coming at or resolving a problem in a straightforward manner. He can only grasp things from around the turn of an alley or the watchful eye around a corner.

 

[Nighzmarquls]

11.8

The road to the sky pass was surprisingly gentle. Hugging the side of the rising mountains which marked the western vault wall of the Ridgetails. Turning north and then south again as their party slowly ascended.

Thurzó had insisted that for today's leg of the journey everyone was bundled in heavy winter coats.

And Jewel was thankful for that, Gem was dressed in the heavy coat the Weavers & Spinners guild had sourced for her. But even so she needed an extra scarf wrapped around her face to stave off the biting wind. Paul and Smithson too were bundled heavily.

At first the smell of their sweat wicking through the wyrmspun wool spoke of discomfort in the Grain Turn heat.

But as they ascended the wind's chill bite and the closeness of the sky and clouds sapped away heat and soon what had made them sweat now shielded their bodies from harsh sleet. At each turn was a wide round space with carved out pits for fires.

"Old Cantor sky passes, the Solar Empire carved to a standard grade and made certain that there was always a place a cart could be pulled aside at each switch back so as to avoid blocking the march of the army even when traversing from one vault to another."

Thurzó spoke like one of his many scholarly books. Which Jewel honestly found welcome. Paul was somewhat distant with her friend but he put in the effort.

"It would be a bit cramped for us to camp at only one of these. But they still have fire pits."
The count of Arva waved it off.

Imre spoke up brightly, not even clutching at his talisman like he had during the welcoming supper last night. Jewel was still astounded at the height the boy had taken up in only a few short years.

"The north'n crossin has a wide stone plain just afore the pass! Wide enough, a hundred thousand men and horses could camp! Father said so!"

Count Thurzó chuckled and nodded to his heir.

"The northernmost sky pass in Arva is a long one, takes a full three days army march to cross under the worst of the sky bite. In the times of the Solar Empire they carved out fortresses to house and shelter the armies which took it. But now most caravans prefer to take longer routes to avoid the cold. And the shelters are mostly collapsed ruins"

Jewel nodded herself while she shook down with Gem in her multiple bundled layers. It was not just the simple small coat made for her spawn but also a heavy fur and another heavy woolen blanket.

Smithson asked in a worried tone.

"But we shouldn't be having to worry about that?"

Her knight spoke over the somewhat burdensome luggage that had been made of Jewel's daughter. Glancing up at her larger face with questions at her well being.

Jewel smiled softly to assure him Gem was fine.

Thurzó laughed and shook his head.

"No, not at all. When we finally make the crossing the sky pass is hardly half a day's leisurely walk and easily less than that at a gentle trot."

Imre spoke up again, voice again practically singing with delight to contribute anything.
"It was cut well flat into the bones of the mountain!"

The boy's father nodded along, smiling through his beard with pride that Jewel could not help but share. It was so nice to see the boy had kept his outgoing bearing despite his initial fright at Jewel.

"That's right my boy!"

He turned back to Smithson with the warmth of his pride still curving his lips.

"We will be fine as long as we get a start on the pass with the sun still up."

Jewel nodded and they continued the slow trudge up the mountain. Turning north again as they reached another place set aside for travelers or wagons or whatever other purpose one might have for a flat place along their road up the mountain.

The ascent was gentle but seemingly endless.

It reminded Jewel a lot of the Eyrie and the way the roads to it climbed ever higher. So high up the air changed. The winds always blew harder the further up she flew. And along the close in stones of the vault wall mountain? The skywinds howled fiercer and colder.

But what started as a constant breeze began to build by the eighth turn in their ascent.

The winds grew beyond what even Jewel had felt at the greatest height she had ever flown. Pummeling down and over them against the rocks. Forcing her to hold her wings tight and hunker down among the horses lest her eyes and ears be battered by the rising fury of the elements.

Conversations died down after three more turns. Despite the sun being blindingly bright at the peak of noon the air carried snow and frost which caught in Jewel's scales.

She no longer even bothered leaving Gem's eyes uncovered. Turning her face from even the relatively gentle winds which were blowing along the path. Burying her eyes away into the shelter of Smithson's coat.

Beyond the carefully sheltered lee of the raised walls around the path itself the wind now felt like a full winter storm, complete with a freezing sleet halfway between snow and rain. Even hunkering down as close as she could to the ground Jewel caught scathing blasts and flurries of prickling ice.

The shelter of the road secured the rest of their party for the most part.

But the howling winds grew ever stronger as they ascended. In another three turns the clouds closed in around them and billowed milky white fog over everything. Jewel's own snout was out of sight in front of her! The cold and wet was biting to Gem's skin despite her bundles and clinging with her face pressed hard into Smithson's coat.

Thurzó and Muriel took turns keeping their party on route. Calling out loud and shrill to be heard over the roar of the wind. Voices smothered in the thick white that had claimed all vision.

Moving up and down the party to make sure their ropes strung along the kit of every horse, mule and member on foot.

When they reached the next turn the party was called to stop and everyone was further accounted for. The wind shifted in character as the diffuse whiteness of the sun moved slowly barely seen beyond the enveloping cloud.

After confirming all were there Muriel had them set off again with more ropes and leads between the horses and mules. To better secure them as they marched near blind up the path. Here too the tall walls of the old cantor road sheltered them from disaster. Even if a rider did stray blind they would have to climb over a stone wall as tall as a man before getting over the edge.

And then at last they broke free of the silvery fog. The light of sun suddenly flaring on each of Jewel's scales and baking down heavily on the cold bundle that had been made of Gem.

For the first time in her life Jewel saw up close the place where the mountain walls touched the sky. She was not sure what she had been expecting but from every tale Jewel read and heard about the vault and her own flight she thought it would have looked different from this.

Which was to say it did not look like anything in particular.

There, just perhaps a few hundred feet above them the snow covered rock face of the mountain bent away as if there was little more than a simple hillock. As they furthered their ascent to the next turn about the edge of the wall grew closer but Jewel still did not see anything that she had not spotted from a distance.

The walls of the vault of heaven did not look like anything but mere mountains. The pillars visible to the south, east and north were distant spires of rock still higher than they now stood. But for all that Jewel did not see any particular barrier despite being only a few hundred feet away.

The wind began to die down as they ascended, growing to a kind of almost anticipatory stillness as they moved in the stark and sudden silence of the high place, that quiet was something Jewel marveled at.

The world was here but also solemn and still in a way Jewel had never heard before.

And then the wind had fallen off entirely.

Thurzó's captain broke the near silence with a sharp yell.

"Hah! Perfect timing! We will be crossing between the breaths! Alright we stop for an hour and shake out your coats, you want them as dry as you can get before the crossing. Still air and sun or not!"

As the rest of their caravan began to dismount and seek to remove the snow sodden outer layers of their coats Jewel turned to look over at the man, curious.

"Breaths?"

Thurzó spoke up for his captain.

"The winds of the world, you recall? The currents between each vault and their rhythm through the day and season?"

Jewel blinked a moment trying to recall the mention of such in the volumes of Historica naturalis Cantora.

"Oh! Yes the sky and deep winds! But why did he call it the breaths?"

Thurzó smiled and looked over to imre who was attempting to shake ice and dew off of his outermost coat.

"Huh? what?"
His father smiled warmly and prompted his son.

"Imre, can you tell the countess Jewel about the breath of the mountains?"

The boy beamed at the opportunity and soon launched into his 'lecture'.

"Oh! Ya! the mountains breathe and sing they do! But really slow and big like! With the morning it's all whooo"

The boy demonstrated by blowing out a very long and prodigious breath along with much whooshing noises.

"An then with the evening they breathing in and in and in and"

He caught a bit of a choking cough there trying to inhale and speak at once much to Jewel and his father's amusement but he soon mastered his throat with a laugh and bit of a shame faced red to his cheeks.

"And then the mountains hold their breath all tight at the high-noon and middle of night."

The little heir held his breath tight to demonstrate that as well but soon had to return to breathing in a rush.

Thurzó beamed at his son and clapped him firmly on the shoulder.

"Well said boy... Arva has many passes from the ridgetail vault both east and west and the winds howl in some places all but two hours each day and night. The old local tales even claim that the mountain's breath is that of some great and terrible mountain wyrm big as all the county of Arva."

Jewel considered that.

"It's not, is it? Some giant Wyrm?"

Thurzó's smile for his son faded a bit as he considered Jewel.

"I've made these trips many times as consul for the High King. There have been times that a pass was blocked by a sleeping mountain wyrm. But no I don't believe any such beast of such a size exists. Shepherd stories and mountain folk tales is all that is."

He turned to look ahead to the cleft in the rock face ahead and above them.

Where they could see the same sky as always.

Seeming no closer by the look of it despite its apparent nearness.

"It is merely the winds of the world passing from one vault to another. With if anything the breath of the earth herself."

Jewel considered the account of Pythra of Veracules.

Seeing how unobvious the supposed border where one could actually touch the sky was, she better understood how it could be done by mistake.

There was nothing to see, there was no indication at all.

She had thought maybe it might be like water or the pristinely clear glass chalices she had inherited from Bathory. Some distortion or heat haze or something! Anything to suggest the great burden of the sky itself being held up by the mountain walls here.

But where Sky and stone met there was simply the perfectly normal expanse of clear blue and the shining light of the sun.

It looked hardly any different than open air that Jewel could have flown right over.

The only thing that made this place seem any different then the elevations of the Eyrie and other highlands Jewel had been too was the abject stillness in the air.

And the softened, almost muffled quiet to the world and its stones.

The rocks here spoke of cold and ice and snow.

But even more softly 'spoken' then any other stone Jewel had ever listened to.

The ice was more familiar, its journeys mostly short and swift. But beneath the recent cover was old snow, venerable and settled.

Not as old as the rocks but still left for many years at least undisturbed.

But even that was almost muffled, lethargic.

Missing some of the fluid animation winter snow had.

Not inclined to 'speak'.

A quiet which was shared by Jewel's companions.

The rest and shake out for everyone who needed winter coats was soon finished with very few words. The stillness of the air seemed to sap conversation as much as the howling fury of before.

And then they were making their way to the cleft in the rock. Marching up a trail carved and then smoothed into the stone itself.

Worn away by cart wheels, hooves and many, many boots.

Years and years of travelers passing through these same places each leaving their mark and a hint of their passing even on these dulled stones.

They ascended one last rise, coming closer and closer to the top of the vault wall.

And finally here Jewel began to see it.

The sky was as deep as ever.

But the land? The stone? The expanse of the world far and below them and ahead and around them?

That receded.

Jewel would have stopped if such an arrest of momentum did not risk the health of the horses and the careful progress of the rest of the caravan.

But she craned and twisted her head around watching it happen.

The closer they got to the cliff face and that one carved passage into it the more the land of the Ridgetails and their valleys seemed to slowly bend and sink away.

The closer they drew to the hewn rock passage, widened and worked by chisels and many hands to make room for two carts to pass one another the more the sky above and around them seemed to expand and surround.

As they came closer Jewel marveled.

The sky didn't change.

The sun always remained in its place in the heavens, familiar to her from any flight.

But the land and stone sunk and shrank away. As if becoming incredibly distant. And as she got closer there was a tight smothering feeling. The air distinctly stopped in her senses at a sudden and sharp boundary.

A boundary that she could not see.

Jewel raised her head up to try and get a closer look. But it seemed to move with her.

She raised her neck higher and felt the air following her face. But running very close to her scales. Pressing as if she was diving hard out of a flight, feeling almost like water clinging to her scales.

Before she realized what she was doing Jewel had pressed her face into the sky.

She felt cold and a hissing sizzling boil along her eyes and mouth. The air fizzed and scattered along her scales. But more billowed up around her neck.

It made her vision cloud and go poorly focused.

But for a moment she saw-

Smithson, Paul and Thurzó's hands on her shoulders and flanks drew her back. She pulled her neck low enough the air no longer felt like it was boiling off her face. Her eyes still took several blinks too moisten enough for her to see clearly. Her ears suddenly rang from what had been the most profound and thundering silence.

"Jewel! Are you alright?! Lower yourself! What were you thinking?! Sky bite in the head can slay a man!"

It took her a moment to realize who was talking.

It was Thurzó and his tone was a panic.

Well that would not do.

"Do not fret my friend, I'm fine. And I apologize I thought I had not touched the vault yet."

The party stared at Jewel.

Well Paul, Smithson, Muriel and the rest of Jewel's footmen spared a single glance then turned back to their duties.

But Thurzó and his entourage were gaping.

Jewel sighed and shook her head.

"Please do not fret so, I'm fine and I won't do it again, now don't we need to make haste through the passage?"

And with that prodding they continued making their way.

Jewel kept her head quite a few feet below the upper edges of the pass's walls.

But she had seen what was beyond.

It had been like she had somehow been surrounded on all sides in an endless blue expanse of sky.

Closer than she had ever felt to the sun itself and that comforting welcome warmth.

But also somehow just as impossibly far as she had ever been.

Jewel had reached out and touched the sky.

And found it simply went on.

 

[Zaealix]

I think not even the Weirds have words for things like atmosphere.
I'm not sure about the boiling thing having such a clear boundary but that might be Jewel pulling tricks somehow? Hrrrm…

 

[Arcane Howitzer]

She felt cold and a hissing sizzling boil along her eyes and mouth. The air fizzed and scattered along her scales. But more billowed up around her neck.

Click to shrink...

Containment field confirmed. There is a distinct and noticeable barrier that holds in the world's atmosphere, beyond which is what I assume to be the void of space.

From cursory observation, the barrier seems to function by sapping energy from anything in its field, resulting in what most would consider a plane of overwhelming cold. Air particles slow and are pulled back in by gravity, while organic matter near-instantaneously freezes, to destructive and potentially lethal effect. What happens to the energy is currently unknown, though I believe it likely that it plays some part in maintaining the field itself.

The purpose of this field is also unknown, but it could be intended to shield the planet from solar radiation if something has gone wrong with its natural magnetosphere. (As an aside, performing a Search of the thread for the words "compass" "magnet" or "magnetic" gives no results. Well, now it gives one result, but you get what I mean.)

As with most other hazards, contact with the field this appears to have little negative effect on the Royal Wyrm, as does exposure to the vacuum beyond. Her association with standard physics is becoming increasingly tenuous...

 

[Nighzmarquls]

11.9

Jewel wished she could say that the last few years traveling Viznove had allowed her to forget what this felt like.

But that would be a lie.

Even with her friend and peer Thurzó sending forth a vanguard to make arrangements.

Even with the insistence of her Husband, A count consort, their combined retinue and all the footmen plus the combined staff of both their entourages.

Still with the weight of so many, Jewel found herself disappointed to be dealing with this again.

"Were the words of our vanguard not clear?"

The 'Bishop' Kaim before her was not one of her subjects. Technically she and Thurzó were nothing more than guests unable to take any legal action in these lands. He was the appointed law of this demesne under the direct vassalage to the High King and his holdings of the relatively close capital.
However there were expectations for traveling nobility and fellow vassals of the realm. And Jewel recognized his scent, he had been one of the god botherers present for her wedding.

He already knew who Jewel was.

She was almost certain he even spoke to her.

Here in the Temple of Aul's Roost, he was a peer to Jewel and Thurzó!

And yet here he was looking at her with a sneer she had expected to only encounter in complete strangers. No, it was somehow worse. He was not merely mistaking her for a thoughtless mute beast, he heard her words and was refusing to acknowledge her despite them somehow!

"The Vanguards arranged quarters for the rightful rulers of Arva and Viznove, their households, retinues, staff and animals."
He looked directly at Jewel on the last word.

"And I humbly offer such accommodations in the name of Aul, divine lord of beer, wine and the other spirits of fine drink. To all blessed by his touch."

Jewel narrowed her eyes at this.

"Then why do you bar my path?! I am the acknowledged Countess of Viznove, by rightful inheritance and god sworn vows of a marriage you attended!"

The bishop's long draping finery flared out as a divine working roiled in the air around him. The sharp cleaving strokes of a god making its presence known to Jewel even though she could not see or feel it.

The air twisting under its touch sign enough.

"You are a warbeast of the high king of the realm and nothing more serpent!"

Jewel recoiled like he had struck her. But the sudden vitriol continued.

"This abomination of bestiality may pass in that barbaric march of the Ridgetails but I will not have a divinely forsworn wyrm corrupt the halls of Aul's house! Be glad you are permitted to even stay under the hallowed roofs of our stables accursed fiend!"

Jewel was silent in shock.

There had been whispered words. Foul and cruel ones made about her. But the sheer gall of the man to say that to her face?!

As her host!?

Jewel was utterly speechless.

Thurzó however was quicker to think, speaking up with a strained tone.

"Kaim, this is absurd! She is the Countess of Viznove! The fifth richest vassal of High King Mathias! You raised her banner in welcome beside mine!"

The Bishop's face remained on Jewel, never taking his eyes off her even as he spoke to the count, an act of disrespect that nearly shocked her more than his open loathing of her for apparently simply being a wyrm.

"That poor boy forced into wedlock and bound to the beast by his mad mother is welcome, You as honorable consul and count of Arva are welcome. All the poor souls yoked to this monstrosity may feast in my halls. But the star accursed thing and its spawn will not set foot in Aul's sanctuary."

Smithson stood up straight, alerting Oxhoof of his tension, the mare standing at alert. His hands gripped Gem with his left arm while his right went to his sword.

Paul was slack jawed in surprise.

Jewel could only gape and stare with her husband. It was purpling towards dusk but they could still make camp and a meal if needed, but to outright refuse her hospitality!?

Deny a Welcoming feast?!

Thurzó, her years-long friend, spoke with an even greater strain to his voice.

"Kaim! She is welcomed in all the realm by order of High King Mathias Himself! She is answering his summons as the Countess of Viznove! This is a breach of hospitality and an insult to the realm and both our counties man!"

The presence of the divine lashed out even wider, billowing in a whirl of wind that smelled faintly of vinegar, spices and rising bread. The Bishop spoke softly again to the count but his eyes stayed on Jewel.

"My dear friend and ally under the high king, you do not need to cleave to the countess' lies, Aul has assured me her curse is undone and she lingers not past death. And here on his lands all guests are held safe and fast against foul sorcery and violence, he will protect you at last."

Jewel stared at the Bishop, then to Thurzó.

This was much worse than anyone had ever treated her in Viznove. Not even that merchant who had suggested-

"Kaim! This is not the time, you might have been at the wedding for her flowery show of force and whatever that was with the gods but I saw her actions in war! Aul is not going to stop her if you actually draw her ire! Is this because you don't have the room for her inside? We can make do with tents-"

The quite possibly insane 'Bishop' interrupted the count!

"György! This horror unmade a thousand men into accursed fiends to celebrate her coronation then set them loose upon her city to despoil, burn and pillage! She bewitched and ravaged that poor boy to spawn an army the very night of that farce of a wedding! I thought perhaps you had the beast tamed and on a leash by your correspondence..."

Jewel blinked a little then shared a look with Thurzó who had been struck absolutely still and silent in shock.

The madman in finery continued.

"But it appears that you are too ensorceled to act! As you wrote the she-beast is obviously planning the overthrow of the realm itself! For the sake of the king, and all the people under my charge and of the realm-"

She turned to look at Paul and Smithson who were both equally confused.

"And by the goodness of Aul! Lord of the spirits, beer, hearth and all good drinks."

The roiling power of the divine welled up towards the just darkening evening sky. Drawing in motes of faux flame from the air and soil, filtering with a sour sweetness in the air.

A strange light shined from no apparent place on the man and finally that drew enough attention for human eyes to spur action.

Muriel and Thurzó's captain began to move, hands at swords but they and every footman that tried to step towards the Bishop with them suddenly staggered. Jewel boggled, nothing of the divine had touched them and yet they were struck?! But a moment of stumbling was soon followed by every man and woman that had moved to their defense toppling over.

Jewel shifted forward to defend her men and captain before noticing no scent of blood or sign of death. They breathed calmly on the ground, curling up in the grass and dirt but to a last they were merely asleep.

The Bishop was still staring at Jewel.

Never having stopped watching her, his finery shimmering in sourceless light.

"No vile force of spirit, beast or man may break the pact of peace and hospitality on these grounds. Foul serpent of the underdark! I revoke your sorcery on these poor creatures you have bewitched! I release your bondage upon them!"

Jewel blinked at the man then looked around at half their party lying where they fell.

She gazed upon the way Dariusz and his family were huddled back behind the horses from the man and the billowing wind and faint light of something heavenly which illuminated his saggy finery.

Her wyrmflame flared at the offense of this man and his god.

She could feel the well of her power building up her throat, climbing to fill her mouth. He dared to strike down what was hers to protect?

The annihilating flame built in her mouth ready to be released.

Until the smuggest voice that she had ever heard spoke up at her feet.

"As the Count Thurzó so eloquently observed, dear Bishop Kaim of Aul's Roost, the only one who has trespassed on the sanctity of hospitality in these lands is you."

And with that the divinity in the air stopped with a sudden stillness.

The light which unnaturally shone upon the man vanishing like a snuffed candle.

The Bishop's eyes widened in absolute shock and turned at last from Jewel. Settling down at her feet where a black cat in a floppy red hat stood, primly between Jewel's forelegs.

"What?!"

Fizzbunches flicked his tail.

"You are disturbing the peace of your god Bishop, that is very rude."

The bishop turned his gaze up to the sky. A vague scent of rotten fruit and the slightest feel of the divine shearing in the air above Kaim.

"Aul! Why!? This beast has-"

And then mid sentence the man's eyes rolled up in his head and he collapsed backwards in a heap fast asleep. Snoring just like Jewel's mother did when she was especially deep in her cups. The same scent was even billowing off of him although he had seemed completely sober before.

Jewel turned to look at Thurzó who was rubbing his brow in a way she had never seen her friend take up before.

"So... what do we do now?"

Fizzbunches looked around then sneezed heavily.

"Aul will favor us to see all these drunken fools put to a good rest in a soft bed to suffer his judgment in the morning."

Jewel blinked down at the cat.

"This god Aul also teaches to never waste a good feast or a fine drink. So after that is settled we'd best make our way to supper lest he take insult. As a good priest of his teachings the Bishop and his fellow god botherers will certainly understand and oblige."

Jewel and Thurzó stared at Fizzbunches the Weird as he marched up to the monastery entrance. Not even bothering to avoid walking over the slumbering men in his path. Leaving a single sooty paw print over the Bishop's eye in his passing.

"Come along! I smell an absolutely divine trout baking in butter, white wine and sage."

Apparently the cat had a very close familiarity with some random god Jewel had never heard of.

It had been far too tiring a day of hard travel and an exhaustingly confusing start to the evening.

But atleast little Imre was laughing.

 

[Nighzmarquls]

11.i

Always split your shares fairly with your mates.

Keep a Grosz handy for the city watch when you're on spotter duty.

Look both ways before opening up the way to the hideout.

And most important of all...

Never break a bargain with a cat.

-Street Saying in the Trifold city of Ghergeintat

 

[Nighzmarquls]

11.ii

Being the husband of a Tyrant Wyrm has yet to provide a single season I could ever call routine. When it is not the terrors of sorcery, the overseeing of common law court in my mother's

When it is not overseeing common law in Kaeketeh then it is imbibing divinely 'blessed' sacrament for a provincial harvest festival!

Then there is the confusion of my wife's spawn.

And I still marvel at not using the term as an insult! Her own sorcerous confidant attests to the terminology and more. It is bizarre to experience! A child who is at least sometimes of one mind with one's own wife.

Furthermore is the fact that even when she is apart from her mother little Gem is the perfect spy.

The potential there extends Jewel's already tremendous advantage in courtly intrigue to levels that make me a bit faint.

Combine this with the hand language she can speak so fluently?

If I didn't know Jewel so well I'd think she was intentionally cultivating the means to spread her awareness to near omniscience within her realm!

But no, although she is growing better in her grasp of such matters my wife is still far more a martial countess than anything else. And not even a general! Jewel cleaves strongly to the example set by her father and house.

A flier and warrior first over a planner or guide for the army.

If it would not risk the continuity of Viznove I'd insist on attending her in the next war as her general of the land. But no it is best to leave that to those trusted and skilled among her vassals.

A liege lord or lady must always be present in one's demesne to guide the people and see to such affairs. As my mother

As Jewel's predecessor did before her I will stay behind to oversee my wife's county when war calls Viznove again. I fear that despite all the efforts to ensure peace through overwhelming threat that war is inevitable.

Like two dogs and a scrap of meat the Realm and the Magarska Kingdom will always covet the lands between them.

Until one is finally slain.

-Excerpt from the Journal of Count Consort Paul Nádasdy

 

[Zaealix]

What the Blessed Baker was that Bishop thinking!? Did he blast his brains out trying to find a way to best that so-called beast!?

Yes with this god of Baking by my side I will defeat a Tyrant Wyrm, which normally requires armies upon armies to put down!

Man is brave to have tried this but jeez. I was half-expecting one of the lesser monks of the temple to grab a rolling pin and bean him over the head for what he was doing!

 

[Rayne-of-Faerie]

Containment field confirmed. There is a distinct and noticeable barrier that holds in the world's atmosphere, beyond which is what I assume to be the void of space.

From cursory observation, the barrier seems to function by sapping energy from anything in its field, resulting in what most would consider a plane of overwhelming cold. Air particles slow and are pulled back in by gravity, while organic matter near-instantaneously freezes, to destructive and potentially lethal effect. What happens to the energy is currently unknown, though I believe it likely that it plays some part in maintaining the field itself.

The purpose of this field is also unknown, but it could be intended to shield the planet from solar radiation if something has gone wrong with its natural magnetosphere. (As an aside, performing a Search of the thread for the words "compass" "magnet" or "magnetic" gives no results. Well, now it gives one result, but you get what I mean.)

As with most other hazards, contact with the field this appears to have little negative effect on the Royal Wyrm, as does exposure to the vacuum beyond. Her association with standard physics is becoming increasingly tenuous...

Click to shrink...

I was entirely unaware she ever had an association with standard physics. If you get right down to it her wings are for speed and steering control, she breathes magic the same way Godzilla does radiation, and changed hundreds of people to smaller forms and the mass just... Poofed. Physics and logic apply when she deems it so. Which brings me to another possibility. Not disagreeing with your theory btw just posting another possible thing it could be.

Could the issue have been that she was actually leaving her area of influence? It has been shown irrefutably that in this world the stars are the gods. (bringing that up raises questions about the day night cycle, that informational might have been literal after all...) This being the case she may have broken some taboo as seems to be the case with the gods influencing anything in what is deemed her domain, perhaps that seeming immunity to them only applies in her domain and she lost it when she broke through. It's also possible we are both right and the barrier does all you say and was placed there by the gods and it's fed by any who try to approach their version of Olympus.

 

[Rayne-of-Faerie]

What the Blessed Baker was that Bishop thinking!? Did he blast his brains out trying to find a way to best that so-called beast!?

Yes with this god of Baking by my side I will defeat a Tyrant Wyrm, which normally requires armies upon armies to put down!

Man is brave to have tried this but jeez. I was half-expecting one of the lesser monks of the temple to grab a rolling pin and bean him over the head for what he was doing!

Click to shrink...

"Fool! What are you doing this is the last thing we knead right now! I seriously can't believe you expect me to simply roll with this and loaf around while you speak such insults. Ye want to call her a beast fine I'll use terms you can understand! That child was an immaculate birth, the good countess has not once been bread! Now cease your idiocy and let them inside so they may feast on ours as is proper!"

 

[Arcane Howitzer]

This being the case she may have broken some taboo as seems to be the case with the gods influencing anything in what is deemed her domain, perhaps that seeming immunity to them only applies in her domain and she lost it when she broke through.

Click to shrink...

Not sure where you got that from, since the only thing that happened to her was a bit of dry-eye from dunking her head in the vacuum of space like it was the surface of a pond. She only came down because everyone else was panicking over her doing yet another thing that would instantaneously kill literally anything else.

 

[Serious_Senator]

Aul sounds pretty great to be honest. He didn't harm anyone, just put them to sleep. His portfolio is taking care of folks and having a good time. I bet he blesses cooks

 

[Rayne-of-Faerie]

Not sure where you got that from, since the only thing that happened to her was a bit of dry-eye from dunking her head in the vacuum of space like it was the surface of a pond. She only came down because everyone else was panicking over her doing yet another thing that would instantaneously kill literally anything else.

Click to shrink...

The feeling of your skin boiling is dry eye?