Dragon Heart: Riders of Nernwyr

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vanissh

vanissh

The Unholy Narrator
Original poster
LURKER MEMBER
Invitation Status
  1. Not accepting invites at this time
Posting Speed
  1. Multiple posts per day
  2. One post per week
  3. Slow As Molasses
Online Availability
Occasionally unavailable on Sundays (AEST) due to D&D.
Writing Levels
  1. Intermediate
  2. Adept
  3. Advanced
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
  2. Female
  3. Nonbinary
  4. Transgender
  5. Agender
  6. Primarily Prefer Male
Genres
Fantasy, Modern, Adventure, Psychological, Horror
The Gates of Yörj have opened...

Two thousand years ago, Alghora - a kingdom to the east - tried to resurrect the dead God of Dominion, Yörj. They used blood magic to unseal the entrance to his divine realm; an act that desecrated it. The foul black magic transformed Yörj's domain into a hellscape of corrupted abominations and monstrosities. It was a catastrophic event (known now as the Calamity) that almost wiped out the entire mortal plane, if not for the Nernwyrie Dragon Riders. They fought back the fiends pouring out of the portal to Yörj's domain and sealed its gates once more, but the cost was high. The dragons were no more.

Yörj's body was not in his divine realm - which Alghorans had searched extensively during the Calamity - and has not been found since.



Only just 1 month ago, Alghora once again opened Yörj's domain. Every kingdom was called to arms in order to fight the abominations spilling through, and so far they have managed to keep them at bay, though it's unknown for how long.​

For 1 month you have felt a 'calling' - an urge that has been growing stronger and stronger as each day passes. You don't know where it leads, and try as you might, you cannot suppress it for much longer. It is a strong feeling, as though a rope had been tied around your waist, pulling you in a direction.

It was only when, three days ago, you noticed the great brazier atop the Nernywyr Temple had been lit that you knew exactly where to go.


Present Day

The day was frigid for Spring. The air still clung to the chill of Winter, its breath on the cool morning air as you left home. A few things settled in your pack. It would be a few hours' walk to the base of the Drakeback Mountains, where a narrow footpath of rocky carven steps would lead you up to the ancient monastery. You were not sure what you would find, or if anyone would even be there, but you could not repress this calling any longer.

Please take time to introduce your character in detail and say farewell to your family before heading out of town.
​
  • Feel free to pair up with other players from the same town if it has been discussed prior.
  • Remember, the towns are named: Stolhoc, Ryslourn, and Murne.
  • Lore on the Sign-Up applies. More questions on lore should be asked there and not in the RP thread.

Sign-Up & OOC
Lore
Dragon Info
NPCs
Character Stats
 
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Name: Coryn
Location: Heading to the Base of the Drakeheart Mountains
Interaction: [OPEN]
"Well, I guess that's it then."

After being pardoned by his noble house to head up to Nernywyr, Coryn had begun making the long and tiresome trek toward the mountains. Saddled upon his only trusted ally at the moment, Dahlia, there was a mix of both excitement and dread that settled firmly in his gut. Not so long ago, he had set his heart on becoming a knight. He was to earn honour and prestige by fighting the good fight against the beasts of the Calamity. Afterwards, he would be rewarded alongside his troop and individually be recognized as a high-calibre knight. Then only the best would follow, like a wife or something. Gold? Riches? Oh! A Title! A Title, yes. A title and a badge to wear proudly upon his chest. Then, when he grows wrinkled and grey, he would put it in a velvet-lined box, specifically made out of cherry wood, and gaze at it longingly as he withered away.

Now those dreams were dashed and replaced with something else. Now apparently he had a calling from God. He recalled telling his Captain the strange urges he had. A tug, a pull towards the temples he couldn't quite understand. His Captain, kind and understanding, first chalked it up to a need to get closer to the gods. No matter how many sermons, services or prayers Coryn offered, that sensation never left him. It had gotten so intense that even his noble lord had gotten involved. They had set him up for a divination reading with the local priestess. They were in the midst of it telling Coryn his future when the fires of Nernywyr were lit. To him, it was a strange coincidence. To everyone else, it was an exclamation of fate. One moment, he was sat in that chair, several people babbling about destiny or something else. The next moment, he's sat with a drink at the pub, surrounded by both friend and foe. Then, in the morning, Dahlia and he were tasked to head up to traverse the mountains and out he went. Now he's on a horse, wondering what it could be.

HE JUST HOPED IT WAS ANYTHING BUT PRIESTHOOD.

Having spent a moderate amount of time at the Church due to this 'guttural feeling', he witnessed what it was like to be a priest.

THAT LIFE WAS NOTHING BUT BEGGING AND TEARS.

Sure, Coryn loved the Gods. The Gods are cool and big and scary and honestly, Coryn would love nothing more than if he just left them alone and they left him alone. However, priests? They dedicate their lives to being on their knees day and night, howling for the Gods to please let them live a day longer. It was a good admirable job and an integral part of their society. He has nothing against the Churches or their Holy Servants! The lifestyle just wasn't for him. He just hoped that this would be a quick stop at the temple and that this was all a mistake. At the very best, they claim he is the chosen one destined to save the world. He would wield a sword made out of the antithesis of the Calamity and smite whatever comes his way. He is a hero among Men, Dwarfs and Halflings of all kinds. He is, after all, working towards greatness.

Sighing heavily, Coryn rolled his shoulders, patting around the several packs Dahlia had strapped to her.

"Where did I put that thing," he grumbles, sifting through all the supplies he had on him. He finds it, but only after sorting through all the gifts his squadron had given him. A frown deepens into his features as he holds several ribbons they had given him.

If he were to become a priest, he would be a rather unhappy one. Not only did he not desire this life, but what if the priests didn't accept him? He liked his current group of friends. They had gone through a lot of hardship together and had to leave it all behind for some indescribable gut feeling that was... awful. Especially with how quickly he was shuffled off. If he were to stay at the temple, gone were the days of sweeping up leaves in the courtyard or training till the sun dipped past the horizon. No more gambling nights or sneaking out to drink till their legs gave out. Instead, all that was left of these friendships were memories and a few moments that rattled in his bag. His chest ached. Firmly, he clasps the pack that held all those precious memories, staring down at the pathway that led to the base of the mountain.

Even without all the resentment and worry, the situation itself was strange and ironic. It's just that it was funny how fate worked. Twenty-four years ago, his mother had attempted to make this very trek over to the mountains. Maybe it was because she failed that he had this urge in the first place. That gut feeling only settled itself in further.

In the heat of the moment, he had decided not to visit his family before beginning the journey. He had been telling himself it was the right decision to do so, but he couldn't help but feel heavy. What if he is destined not to go home for an extended period? Or worse, forever? What kind of son was he that he couldn't even say goodbye to his beloved mother and grandfather? That they had to find out through letter? In all honesty, it was probably best that he didn't stick around to say goodbye. There were only two outcomes to it.

The first was his loving, doting mother would cry herself to sleep that night knowing he would be gone. He'd have to pry her hands off of him and reassure her for hours that he would be home. A sweet mother, who'd kiss him on the cheek and tell him to write. Or he'd get the second option.
In the end, he decided that this was the best-case scenario. Instead, he would write when he was at the temple when the news was confirmed. He didn't want to give any false hope anyway.
Upon Coryn's shoulders was a coat gifted to him by his captain. The interior was sleek and comfortable, with a warm interior padding that was removable through brass buttons hidden by a second panel. The exterior fought off rain, snow and strong chilled winds. Before, Coryne was sure he didn't need a new coat, saying that it was far too fancy for his liking. Now he was beyond grateful.

"R..Right. Right. Okay. We should be able to make it to the staircase before daylight ends and then we take shelter for the night before we take it up those stairs, thoughts?" he asks, mainly to his horse, holding up his map to get a better view of the path. Yeah. This looked correct enough.
 
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"Hm, I wonder why I have the feeling that I need to go this way." Bright purple eyes follow the winding path out of sight with a curious look. When no one replies, she sighs lightly. "Right. Mother and Father are at the peek of one of their adventures and my siblings are off doing what they all do." With a light pout, Zalie sweeps her gaze around her for a distraction.

She's used to traveling for long periods of time, but this is her first official journey alone. Her parents had been proud when she'd told them one morning that she felt like she needed to be in the direction of an old temple. So proud, in fact, that they had gone on and on about how grown up she was and that she would carry on the family tradition with her older brother to travel the world. This would be the debut of the rest of her life. Or so they'd said. Zalie wasn't to sure. Not only was the journey quiet a ways from where her family had found themselves, but she'd have to travel alone. And she hates being alone.

The cold hadn't seemed to bother her much as she'd made her preparations to depart. She'd dressed in a warmer kimono for the next few days, a pale purple with white flowers, but has a lighter one, along with other necessities for travel. She'd said a begrudging goodbye to her family a day prior as a split in the pathway had led them down different callings. Now she wishes she'd had a calling to go wherever it was they were called off to. Now, she finds herself bored and with no one to talk to.

"Should I pull out my flute?" she ponders, tilting her head to the side as white strands fall into her face. Pale white hands rummage through her bag as she walks, taking twice as long both in walking and finding her item because she refuses to do one at a time. By the time her hand connects with the wooden instrument, she's already thought of the perfect song to play. The white haired, purple eyed young woman seems almost to smile as she starts up a light tune. Of course, she doesn't make it super loud, just enough so she can hear it over the sound of her feet on the ground.
 
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Kat said:
"Hm, I wonder why I have the feeling that I need to go this way." Bright purple eyes follow the winding path out of sight with a curious look. When no one replies, she sighs lightly. "Right. Mother and Father are at the peek of one of their adventures and my siblings are off doing what they all do." With a light pout, Zalie sweeps her gaze around her for a distraction.

She's used to traveling for long periods of time, but this is her first official journey alone. Her parents had been proud when she'd told them one morning that she felt like she needed to be in the direction of an old temple. So proud, in fact, that they had gone on and on about how grown up she was and that she would carry on the family tradition with her older brother to travel the world. This would be the debut of the rest of her life. Or so they'd said. Zalie wasn't to sure. Not only was the journey quiet a ways from where her family had found themselves, but she'd have to travel alone. And she hates being alone.

The cold hadn't seemed to bother her much as she'd made her preparations to depart. She'd dressed in a warmer kimono for the next few days, a pale purple with white flowers, but has a lighter one, along with other necessities for travel. She'd said a begrudging goodbye to her family a day prior as a split in the pathway had led them down different callings. Now she wishes she'd had a calling to go wherever it was they were called off to. Now, she finds herself bored and with no one to talk to.

"Should I pull out my flute?" she ponders, tilting her head to the side as white strands fall into her face. Pale white hands rummage through her bag as she walks, taking twice as long both in walking and finding her item because she refuses to do one at a time. By the time her hand connects with the wooden instrument, she's already thought of the perfect song to play. The white haired, purple eyed young woman seems almost to smile as she starts up a light tune. Of course, she doesn't make it super loud, just enough so she can hear it over the sound of her feet on the ground.
Click to expand...
Name: Coryn
Location: Heading to the Base of the Drakeheart Mountains
Interaction: Talking to Zalie
"Dahlia. Dahlia hold. Hold please." Sliding off of his horse, Coryn began to stretch his achy body. In his hands, his map fluttered softly in the wind. Only a few hours left till they reached the mountain base, then tomorrow, bright and early, they would scale to where the Nermwyr temples lay. Yep. Excited. Ecstatic even. Blowing out a puff of air, Coryn checked the map closely, ensuring they were on the correct path. He wasn't trying to get lost. Not only was he stocked full of meat on bones, but his darling horse was too. Wolves could be little shitty bastards sometimes and he was determined to keep his horse and himself well and alive this entire trip.

Looking over the map for maybe the sixth time in a row, Coryn's thoughts were rattled by the sudden sound of... flute? Was that a flute? Who in god's name was playing a flute? Was there a lost priest playing Pied's piper to appease the gods? He didn't know they could do anything outside of howl and weep. Looking up, Coryn cocks a curious brow, keeping a close eye on the road. That is when they spot Miss Zalie.

"...Oh by the nine, it's a girl." Now, Coryn wasn't particularly well-versed in determining a person's age. A horrific memory of them calling a twenty-something-year-old forty flashes through his head. The sharp slap stinging at his cheeks. He rubs absentmindedly and watches the girl approach. Well regardless of her age, she was alone and playing a flute.
 
Name: Cardis
Location: Heading to the Base of the Drakeheart Mountain from Stolhoc
Interaction: Intro + Talking to Crydora
Cardissian was not particularly fond of travel. Or being outside for extended periods of time. Or leaving the city limits. Or essentially anything of what was going on right now. But he had his sister and therefore everything would turn out fine, right?

His light hair and eyes shine in the partial sunlight, and the metal working on his staff and jewellery glimmer as well. He's dressed for the chill in pants, boots, a sweater he made, and an overcoat. He tucks his chin into the long scarf wrapped around his neck. The long ropes of his hair sit draped around his shoulders, covering his ears and his most of his face. He sneaks glances around them, eyes searching for signs of danger as they walk, following the pulling in his gut towards their destination.

When this tugging sensation had happened a month ago he hadn't thought much of it. Cardis had thought that maybe it was just the lingering feeling of wanting to go out into the world that he sometimes got after reading an adventure book. But those were always short lived and quickly smothered by the reality of their world. Cardis didn't feel like tempting fate by giving it an opportunity and reason to send him trouble. He was content with things! He had a job doing what he liked, set with taking over once the old man he worked for finally kicked the bucket. He was out of the house, living with Crydora. He got to knit sweaters in his spare time. What was there not to love?

But that tugging sensation. Each passing day it grew and grew and he knew deep down that this wasn't some passing longing for a greater life. Especially not when his sister felt that same feeling. His boss had suggested prayer, maybe going out into the woods- a big no, or simply... waiting. A part of him thought maybe it was priesthood which as much as he admired their work so they could all live normal lives, he wasn't too keen on having to cry and beg for mercy every day of his life. He had done enough of that. Concentrating on his work had been increasingly difficult, to the point that the old man relegated him to repairs for the time being so he wouldn't muck up any new pieces. Then the brazier of Nernywyr lit and he remembers telling his boss and his sister when he saw. His boss only nodded his head, seemingly in understanding and told him to take his sister and get out of here. Everything in him screamed to go. So he did.

It took 3 days of prepping- getting food, packing up some clothes, and asking their neighbours to water the plants while they were gone. Of course telling them they were free to help themselves if stuff was ready for harvesting while they were gone. If they were gone long enough that their few vegetables needed harvesting. Hopefully that was not the case. And also getting Crydora ready to leave, much to her dismay. He bundled the two of them up in matching sweaters and socks with a nice overcoat, packed their travelling bags and set forth. Linking arms with her so as to not lose each other while they travelled.

The walk to the base of the mountain was a few hours long and he had hoped to spend it in quiet so as not to attract any unwanted attention but that wasn't possible right now. His only solace was the fact they were heading away from the stretch of forest with a known wild elf camp. Not that it brought much comfort considering they could just show up now they were away from the city. But it was at least something. Cardis had no intentions of running into their murderous kin. Yeah, sure it would only be a few hours, but a lot could happen in that time. The comfort he had found doesn't last for too long and he can't help but open his mouth to at least try to dispel his fears.

"Crydora? There aren't wild elves in these parts, right?" He says, quiet enough that you could mistake him for talking to himself if he wasn't looking directly at his twin.
 
Name: Bastian
Location: Ryslourn- heading out to the mountains.




Items were pushed inside the leather bag, the one he'd bought and hidden beneath the hay a few weeks ago, one after the other, organized in a careful manner of priority; lower priority, heavier objects bellow, higher priority objects above. There wasn't much to pack. Leaving enough space for food at the top, he closed the latches of the bag, got up and took a breath. Rations had not been something he could stock up on slowly- he'd tried. Always ended with smelly food contaminated by ants, flies, and any other type of insect.
Expressionless, he walked inside the house to the family's pantry room. Approximately ten minutes later he was walking out of the front door with a full bag and voices shouting, cursing and spitting at him in indignation. Bastian closed the door behind him just in time to hear a teapot smash against the wood and shatter into pieces.

On foot, the young man reached the smithy he'd grown accostumed to calling his own relative safe space. It would be his last day at work, and though Bastian did not raise his hopes -that was why he had packed in a knife or two, after all- he was hoping the old blacksmith would let him keep the old sword he had been burrowing for practice.

Stepping into the building, the hot air from the hearth greeted him with open arms. Setting his bag in the coolest corner of the room by an open window, Bastian rolled up his dirty sleeves, exposing well defined muscle and scarred skin. While others were seldom so discrete, the blacksmith never looked and never asked.

"You're late," came the gruff voice at last. "Grab your hammer and come over here. I've been working on an order of spear heads for the last hour by myself." There was complaint in his tone, one that at the start the boy had dreaded, but Bastian knew now the old man meant no harm with it and did as he was asked wordlessly.

When the order was completed and set aside, hours of work later, Bastian sat down on a chair facing his employer. If the man were to find his question absurd enough to lash out, the boy was counting on the fact the blacksmith's speed would be further impaired by the fatigue to actually land a hit. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that, but the world seldom listened to hope.

"I am leaving the town," he finally said.

The old man set down his beer cup and scratched at his chin. "When?"

"Today." Thinking for a second, he added to clarify: "As soon as I am finished here."

The blacksmith let out a tired breath as he averted his gaze from the boy before him to the ceiling. "And to where are you sailing your ship to?"

"Nernywyr."

Bastian gained an odd look that he was not accustomed to coming from the man before him.
"And what in the Calamity's sake are you going to do there?"

A spark of indignation lit and burned uncomfortably in the boy's chest. He knew it was not an unreasonable question. Just what would a lowly servant boy seek in the Great Temple?

He hated the truthful, pragmatic answer to that question.

"That is my business." There was more bite to his tone than the blacksmith would tolerate, but Bastian ploughed ahead with his demand anyway. "I want the sword."

The blacksmith narrowed his eyes and the two stared at each other for a good long moment. In the end, the old man gave a groan as he pushed himself off his chair. "Alright. You can keep it, it's yours, but I'm holding your day's pay for it."

Bastian frowned a little but refused to let his expression leave behind its monotony up until the old man had retreated to a different room. The boy contemplated if that was his cue to leave when he heard shuffling, creaking and scraping ensue from where the blacksmith had disappeared. When he came back, he held an assortment of objects at his hands- silver and brown.


Bastian stared as the old man laid them out at the table. When they caught each other's eyes, the old man snorted. "What? Were you really plannin to just up an' leave with that thin shirt on your back? You really haven't learned a thing have ya?"

The boy got up and took a better look through the objects- it was an assortment of pieces of leather and plate armour. They barely, if at all, amounted to a full set, and there was no helmet in sight.

"You can have these too. They ain't top notch but they should serve ya better than what you're wearing now."

Bastian attempted to not let the surprise show on his face, but something told him it did anyway as he tried on and adjusted everything. The weight was something he would have to get used to but it was comfortable enough to move around in. With a nod of thanks, the young man retrieved his sword from a case in the corner and made to get his bag before he was called back.

Half an hour later, he was walking out of the blacksmith feeling ready to take the journey ahead, leaving the confusion that the extra kindness bought in the room behind him, yet keeping the advice the old man gave him in mind.


With that, Bastian walked his way out of Ryslourn alone.
 
Ezrannoth said:
Kat said:
"Hm, I wonder why I have the feeling that I need to go this way." Bright purple eyes follow the winding path out of sight with a curious look. When no one replies, she sighs lightly. "Right. Mother and Father are at the peek of one of their adventures and my siblings are off doing what they all do." With a light pout, Zalie sweeps her gaze around her for a distraction.

She's used to traveling for long periods of time, but this is her first official journey alone. Her parents had been proud when she'd told them one morning that she felt like she needed to be in the direction of an old temple. So proud, in fact, that they had gone on and on about how grown up she was and that she would carry on the family tradition with her older brother to travel the world. This would be the debut of the rest of her life. Or so they'd said. Zalie wasn't to sure. Not only was the journey quiet a ways from where her family had found themselves, but she'd have to travel alone. And she hates being alone.

The cold hadn't seemed to bother her much as she'd made her preparations to depart. She'd dressed in a warmer kimono for the next few days, a pale purple with white flowers, but has a lighter one, along with other necessities for travel. She'd said a begrudging goodbye to her family a day prior as a split in the pathway had led them down different callings. Now she wishes she'd had a calling to go wherever it was they were called off to. Now, she finds herself bored and with no one to talk to.

"Should I pull out my flute?" she ponders, tilting her head to the side as white strands fall into her face. Pale white hands rummage through her bag as she walks, taking twice as long both in walking and finding her item because she refuses to do one at a time. By the time her hand connects with the wooden instrument, she's already thought of the perfect song to play. The white haired, purple eyed young woman seems almost to smile as she starts up a light tune. Of course, she doesn't make it super loud, just enough so she can hear it over the sound of her feet on the ground.
Click to expand...
Name: Coryn
Location: Heading to the Base of the Drakeheart Mountains
Interaction: Talking to Zalie
"Dahlia. Dahlia hold. Hold please." Sliding off of his horse, Coryn began to stretch his achy body. In his hands, his map fluttered softly in the wind. Only a few hours left till they reached the mountain base, then tomorrow, bright and early, they would scale to where the Nermwyr temples lay. Yep. Excited. Ecstatic even. Blowing out a puff of air, Coryn checked the map closely, ensuring they were on the correct path. He wasn't trying to get lost. Not only was he stocked full of meat on bones, but his darling horse was too. Wolves could be little shitty bastards sometimes and he was determined to keep his horse and himself well and alive this entire trip.

Looking over the map for maybe the sixth time in a row, Coryn's thoughts were rattled by the sudden sound of... flute? Was that a flute? Who in god's name was playing a flute? Was there a lost priest playing Pied's piper to appease the gods? He didn't know they could do anything outside of howl and weep. Looking up, Coryn cocks a curious brow, keeping a close eye on the road. That is when they spot Miss Zalie.

"...Oh by the nine, it's a girl." Now, Coryn wasn't particularly well-versed in determining a person's age. A horrific memory of them calling a twenty-something-year-old forty flashes through his head. The sharp slap stinging at his cheeks. He rubs absentmindedly and watches the girl approach. Well regardless of her age, she was alone and playing a flute.
Click to expand...
Name: Zalie
Location: Also heading to the base of the mountain
Interaction: Talking to Coryn

Zalie's purple eyes soon lie on a man standing in the pathway that's she's heading. The tune is almost done, anyways, so she finishes the last few notes before lowering the wooden instrument from her lips. Tilting her head to the side, those eyes almost appear red with the change in light reflecting from her irises. Just as quickly, she's perked up with a bright smile on her face. Without skipping a beat, she's rushing forward until she's standing a few feet away. "Hello! Are you here for that weird brazen and pulling sensation?" She seems eager to talk, standing on her tip toes to be a bit closer to his height if he's taller than her.
 
Name: C'yra
Location: Heading to the Base of the Drakeheart Mountain from Stolhoc
Interaction: Intro + Talking to Cardis

"This is stupid!!"

It's been 3 days of non-stop grumbling on Crydora's part. Every part of her struggling and fighting this inexplainable tug that wills her to leave home, the life they've fought tooth and nail to build for themselves. From defying familial expectations to do what they are good at, what they want. She had build quite the solid reputation in their neighborhood , doing odd end jobs, tiling the fields for an elderly couple whose son went to another, bigger village. Hunting game and selling them on the market during the day. Chopping firewood by the evenings. She was happy, content. Even when this nagging feeling causes her to loose focus at odd times and keeps her up at night.

And now they are going to leave it all for some,,,, stupid feeling that's telling them to go somewhere unknown??? Leave everything behind for some stupid priest-hood stuff?? What were they to do once they get there? Get on their knees for some gods who wants to do nothing more then to annihilate them?

C'yra does not fancy getting on her knees for anyone, not even gods.

Despite that, her beliefs, they still packed up. Succumbing to this sickening feeling that only grows more intense as the hours pass. Dressed in matching sweaters, socks and a nice, big overcoat. A knife strapped to her belt because she isn't going anywhere that far from home without a means of defense. Carrying travelling bags, setting off on foot, a long way from home. Her hair down, draping over her shoulders and hanging down her back. Jeweled accessories glittering in the dim light of the sun. Arm linked with her brother. While the other hand stayed animated and moving as she continued her never ending complain about their plight. Because that's all she could do, all she was able to do.

It infuriates her to no end. She only paused her rather loud complains momentarily when Cardis spoke of his concerns.

She sighs, "No, Cardis. No known wild elf camps around these parts. And even if there are any strays," She shapes her hand into a fist and grins, shaking it almost jokingly in front of her twin. "You know I don't shy away from fights, Card."
 
Kat said:
Ezrannoth said:
Kat said:
"Hm, I wonder why I have the feeling that I need to go this way." Bright purple eyes follow the winding path out of sight with a curious look. When no one replies, she sighs lightly. "Right. Mother and Father are at the peek of one of their adventures and my siblings are off doing what they all do." With a light pout, Zalie sweeps her gaze around her for a distraction.

She's used to traveling for long periods of time, but this is her first official journey alone. Her parents had been proud when she'd told them one morning that she felt like she needed to be in the direction of an old temple. So proud, in fact, that they had gone on and on about how grown up she was and that she would carry on the family tradition with her older brother to travel the world. This would be the debut of the rest of her life. Or so they'd said. Zalie wasn't to sure. Not only was the journey quiet a ways from where her family had found themselves, but she'd have to travel alone. And she hates being alone.

The cold hadn't seemed to bother her much as she'd made her preparations to depart. She'd dressed in a warmer kimono for the next few days, a pale purple with white flowers, but has a lighter one, along with other necessities for travel. She'd said a begrudging goodbye to her family a day prior as a split in the pathway had led them down different callings. Now she wishes she'd had a calling to go wherever it was they were called off to. Now, she finds herself bored and with no one to talk to.

"Should I pull out my flute?" she ponders, tilting her head to the side as white strands fall into her face. Pale white hands rummage through her bag as she walks, taking twice as long both in walking and finding her item because she refuses to do one at a time. By the time her hand connects with the wooden instrument, she's already thought of the perfect song to play. The white haired, purple eyed young woman seems almost to smile as she starts up a light tune. Of course, she doesn't make it super loud, just enough so she can hear it over the sound of her feet on the ground.
Click to expand...
Name: Coryn
Location: Heading to the Base of the Drakeheart Mountains
Interaction: Talking to Zalie
"Dahlia. Dahlia hold. Hold please." Sliding off of his horse, Coryn began to stretch his achy body. In his hands, his map fluttered softly in the wind. Only a few hours left till they reached the mountain base, then tomorrow, bright and early, they would scale to where the Nermwyr temples lay. Yep. Excited. Ecstatic even. Blowing out a puff of air, Coryn checked the map closely, ensuring they were on the correct path. He wasn't trying to get lost. Not only was he stocked full of meat on bones, but his darling horse was too. Wolves could be little shitty bastards sometimes and he was determined to keep his horse and himself well and alive this entire trip.

Looking over the map for maybe the sixth time in a row, Coryn's thoughts were rattled by the sudden sound of... flute? Was that a flute? Who in god's name was playing a flute? Was there a lost priest playing Pied's piper to appease the gods? He didn't know they could do anything outside of howl and weep. Looking up, Coryn cocks a curious brow, keeping a close eye on the road. That is when they spot Miss Zalie.

"...Oh by the nine, it's a girl." Now, Coryn wasn't particularly well-versed in determining a person's age. A horrific memory of them calling a twenty-something-year-old forty flashes through his head. The sharp slap stinging at his cheeks. He rubs absentmindedly and watches the girl approach. Well regardless of her age, she was alone and playing a flute.
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Name: Zalie
Location: Also heading to the base of the mountain
Interaction: Talking to Coryn

Zalie's purple eyes soon lie on a man standing in the pathway that's she's heading. The tune is almost done, anyways, so she finishes the last few notes before lowering the wooden instrument from her lips. Tilting her head to the side, those eyes almost appear red with the change in light reflecting from her irises. Just as quickly, she's perked up with a bright smile on her face. Without skipping a beat, she's rushing forward until she's standing a few feet away. "Hello! Are you here for that weird brazen and pulling sensation?" She seems eager to talk, standing on her tip toes to be a bit closer to his height if he's taller than her.
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Name: Coryn
Location: Heading to the Base of the Drakeheart Mountains
Interaction: Talking to Zalie

Well that was hyper specific. I guess he wasn't special after all. Coryn stands tall before the smaller woman, nodding his head.

"I am. I suppose the gods called for multiple people this fine day," he hums, offering his arm to her to take her bags or to help her up on Dalia if she so desired. "Shall we travel together then? I can offer you my horse if your feet feel weary and at this pace, we'd make it to the stairs by the evening." Coryn didn't bother to show her the map incase she herself were a bandit.
 
Ezrannoth said:
Kat said:
Ezrannoth said:
Kat said:
"Hm, I wonder why I have the feeling that I need to go this way." Bright purple eyes follow the winding path out of sight with a curious look. When no one replies, she sighs lightly. "Right. Mother and Father are at the peek of one of their adventures and my siblings are off doing what they all do." With a light pout, Zalie sweeps her gaze around her for a distraction.

She's used to traveling for long periods of time, but this is her first official journey alone. Her parents had been proud when she'd told them one morning that she felt like she needed to be in the direction of an old temple. So proud, in fact, that they had gone on and on about how grown up she was and that she would carry on the family tradition with her older brother to travel the world. This would be the debut of the rest of her life. Or so they'd said. Zalie wasn't to sure. Not only was the journey quiet a ways from where her family had found themselves, but she'd have to travel alone. And she hates being alone.

The cold hadn't seemed to bother her much as she'd made her preparations to depart. She'd dressed in a warmer kimono for the next few days, a pale purple with white flowers, but has a lighter one, along with other necessities for travel. She'd said a begrudging goodbye to her family a day prior as a split in the pathway had led them down different callings. Now she wishes she'd had a calling to go wherever it was they were called off to. Now, she finds herself bored and with no one to talk to.

"Should I pull out my flute?" she ponders, tilting her head to the side as white strands fall into her face. Pale white hands rummage through her bag as she walks, taking twice as long both in walking and finding her item because she refuses to do one at a time. By the time her hand connects with the wooden instrument, she's already thought of the perfect song to play. The white haired, purple eyed young woman seems almost to smile as she starts up a light tune. Of course, she doesn't make it super loud, just enough so she can hear it over the sound of her feet on the ground.
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Name: Coryn
Location: Heading to the Base of the Drakeheart Mountains
Interaction: Talking to Zalie
"Dahlia. Dahlia hold. Hold please." Sliding off of his horse, Coryn began to stretch his achy body. In his hands, his map fluttered softly in the wind. Only a few hours left till they reached the mountain base, then tomorrow, bright and early, they would scale to where the Nermwyr temples lay. Yep. Excited. Ecstatic even. Blowing out a puff of air, Coryn checked the map closely, ensuring they were on the correct path. He wasn't trying to get lost. Not only was he stocked full of meat on bones, but his darling horse was too. Wolves could be little shitty bastards sometimes and he was determined to keep his horse and himself well and alive this entire trip.

Looking over the map for maybe the sixth time in a row, Coryn's thoughts were rattled by the sudden sound of... flute? Was that a flute? Who in god's name was playing a flute? Was there a lost priest playing Pied's piper to appease the gods? He didn't know they could do anything outside of howl and weep. Looking up, Coryn cocks a curious brow, keeping a close eye on the road. That is when they spot Miss Zalie.

"...Oh by the nine, it's a girl." Now, Coryn wasn't particularly well-versed in determining a person's age. A horrific memory of them calling a twenty-something-year-old forty flashes through his head. The sharp slap stinging at his cheeks. He rubs absentmindedly and watches the girl approach. Well regardless of her age, she was alone and playing a flute.
Click to expand...
Name: Zalie
Location: Also heading to the base of the mountain
Interaction: Talking to Coryn

Zalie's purple eyes soon lie on a man standing in the pathway that's she's heading. The tune is almost done, anyways, so she finishes the last few notes before lowering the wooden instrument from her lips. Tilting her head to the side, those eyes almost appear red with the change in light reflecting from her irises. Just as quickly, she's perked up with a bright smile on her face. Without skipping a beat, she's rushing forward until she's standing a few feet away. "Hello! Are you here for that weird brazen and pulling sensation?" She seems eager to talk, standing on her tip toes to be a bit closer to his height if he's taller than her.
Click to expand...
Name: Coryn
Location: Heading to the Base of the Drakeheart Mountains
Interaction: Talking to Zalie

Well that was hyper specific. I guess he wasn't special after all. Coryn stands tall before the smaller woman, nodding his head.

"I am. I suppose the gods called for multiple people this fine day," he hums, offering his arm to her to take her bags or to help her up on Dalia if she so desired. "Shall we travel together then? I can offer you my horse if your feet feel weary and at this pace, we'd make it to the stairs by the evening." Coryn didn't bother to show her the map incase she herself were a bandit.
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Zalie's about to start a small ramble when she notices the man offer her his arm. She stares at it questioningly for a moment before offering him a grin and taking it. Usually she's unsure what someone means when they quietly do something like this, but she remembers her older brother explaining that it usually means an offer to walk beside them. "I suppose so! Sure! A new friend is always welcome!" At the offer to ride his horse, she shakes her head lightly. "That's alright. My family travels for a living. I don't mind walking. Thank you, though! I'm glad someone else is also going this way. I was worried I'd be alone for the whole travel. My family was going to another village to find out how the people live there, so they couldn't come along with me. This is my first time traveling on my own. How about you?"
 
At the base of the mountain was known to have a small, narrow path...​

...And by that path, on a rock, sat a large man adorned in black armor. The way the light cascaded off of it was unlike any metal you had ever seen, parts swelling more red or purple depending on the angle - and it had golden details, signifying wealth and stature. The way he was sitting betrayed his height, yet you could tell he must be like a tower at his full height. The cloth lightly ruffled around plated boots, a hood lifted to shield his face from the weather, and a helm sitting on the stone off to his left.

From how he looked and dressed it was clear to you that his name likely carried a fair deal of weight, like the hefty greatsword sheathed on his back. But even though his beard was impressive, and he looked like some veteran hero or great knight... you did not recognise this man.
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The snow fell gently around him, lightly powdering the ground and rocks. It was settled over him, as though he had been there for a while in that very spot. He appeared to be reading something; a very old, worn leather book in hand; the removed gauntlet sat over his knee so that he could turn the pages more easily, yet he wore black knitted gloves underneath to keep the cold at bay. The words and text were illegible, written in a language you were unfamiliar with, nor were you close enough to determine it.

The man didn't indicate that he knew you were there, silently reading as you swallowed your resolve - the calling inside you tightening you, yanking you forward even if you wanted to stop and turn away.

Then he spoke - two very simple words - but those words felt as if they hummed in your very soul, resonating in your mind like a signal flare.

They were not profound words on their own, but implied so much, and held so many meanings it caused you to physically freeze in place as your body tensed. Not an uncomfortable or negative feeling, but this man had just spoken to you - not you you, but the truest version of yourself. Your past, present and future self. The you that was and who would be, as if he knew them all. He spoke to your identity, your soul, your fate, and even to the parts of you that you didn't know you had yet, and all of it reacted; igniting a unique elemental sensation that welled up in your core.

 
Name: Coryn
Location: Heading to the Base of the Drakeheart Mountains
Interaction: Talking to Zalie + Weird Old Guy
Regardless of what happens, whether Zalie lets them eventually take their luggage or not, Coryn travels with them. He assures her that he's fine and honestly is surprised that someone else was heading up to the temples with the same goal as himself. Soon they found themselves lost in conversation.

"Do you know what it is?" he asks, Zalie on one arm and Dahlia's reigns on the other hand. "The tugging I mean. The fact that you're also on this path means that you were also drawn to the temple. Why is that?"

He would need to wait for an answer from her as at that very moment, he laid eyes on the strange man before them. Well, more like his shadow first. He could reach most hanging store signs with ease with how tall he was, and with the armor he dawned. A behemoth in the flesh. He wasn't aware people could even come in this size. Coryn would have had more thoughts if the man hadn't spoken.

"You're late."

His soul trembled, the tugging twisting at his chest, calling for all his attention. This was important if his height and dress didn't already make it obvious. Upon instinct, Coryn found himself standing at attention, saluting to the fellow before them, treating him as if he were his captain at home.

"It won't happen again, sir," he says firmly, knowing damn well that was probably a lie.
 
Zalie wouldn't know he was offering to take her luggage unless explicitly told. If asked, she'll decline unless he offers more than once. The two travel together, Zalie very excited to have found someone else after the long night she'd spent by herself. She'd welcomed the conversation, paying attention to if Coryn said he liked or enjoyed anything to keep the knowledge for future use. He is now a friend in her eyes, and friends need to be taken care of, least they not want to be friends anymore.

As they come to a clearing in the trees, she stops at the sight of a man dressed in gold. She can't help but awe at his uniform for a moment, lost in thought about who he is and the stories he could tell. She blinks in surprise as he talks, her whole thought process interrupted by his simple statement. She's late. For what, she has no idea. But this tugging feeling has something to do with him, right? If so, was he waiting for them for a whole month?

Shaking the thought from her head, for no one would do something so silly, she starts taking in his appearance when Coryn stands quickly at attention. "Do you know him?" she whispers, tilting her head in slight confusion. She turns her attention back to the man sitting reading a book with a confused look. "Would we be late by a month, then? What are we late for? Sir," she remembers the man calling him sir and tacks it on to the end quickly. Better to be safe in giving the correct honors to a stranger than to regret it later. Her parents have stories about that.
 
Name: Ernest
Location: Heading to the Base of the Drakeheart Mountains
Interaction: [OPEN]
Curiosity. For as long as he can remember, Ernest has held a hidden curiosity of the unknown world and similarly, a fear of what he has not faced before. However, he chooses not to let this dissuade him from the pursuit of discoveries and a good story to tell. Coming from a sheltered home life on his family's farm in the small town of Murne, and being the youngest of his siblings, his family was certainly concerned for his departure. As others may or may not know, halflings are not accustomed to far travel or anything that would be considered a disturbance of the practical and peaceful balance that is fostering their homes, gardens, and crafts, and by and large, someone leaving their community for an extended period of time such as this is one of those disturbances.

Nonetheless, there's still much he needs to learn and a practice like that is limited on this farm. With his mind made up, his family can do nothing but bid him their good will. On his way out, his father gifts him one of the same bows he and his eldest brothers would use on their annual hunting trips and a handful of arrows in a quiver. The bow is not of a stately make, but it works fine for its purpose. He sets off beyond the gates of the farm and along the shoddy path heading into Murne, whereupon he spends a moment of time making sure he's fully equipped with all of the "necessities," and an extra of each of the following: a pipe for smoking, a balm for cracked lips and skin, a handkerchief, and other various pick-me-ups he so greatly appreciates. He's overjoyed in the usage of pockets, satchels, bags, holsters, and anything of the make, and strives to keep each of his up-to-maintenance. In some of these bags and holsters, he holds a small cooking station (a modest one, that is), and other items like his whittling knife and herbal blends including one jar of spices and one of his own personal pipe smoking blends for calming his nerves. Snuggled in his thick socks and snug, padded boots, warm clothing, and a weathered and patched cloak, he sets off past the the borders of his home town on the back of Summit, his beloved and large, white mountain goat. For a human, Summit isn't considered mount-worthy, but for a halfling standing at 3'9'' (tall for a halfling, mind you), he's perfectly fitted for carrying Ernest's weight and a little more. Summit has been with Ernest since the former could walk, being gifted to Ernest as a companion by his father who knew of his son's trouble breathing under more severe physical activity.

His first step on this journey is moving south towards the mountains across from Stolhoc, where he feels a growing call deep within his bloodstream to make way for. As he approaches the edge of the mountain path, all anyone would be able to see is a dot upon the horizon coming closer which, quite frankly, never got much bigger in their eyes. Coming up behind a scattered group of various travelers standing near an imposingly large figure (for Ernest's own size at least) sitting upon a rock, he hears two almost palpable words cutting through an ambient silence, "You're late." Knowing nothing else but the proper politeness of his heritage, Ernest has nothing else to utter back as a response than, "I-i'm most deeply sorry for my tardiness, sir..." That is, Ernest does not recall ever knowing such a figure, who seems to be of such importance, and attempts to feign as much courage as he can muster whilst trying to hide his certain fear of imposing and large figures. He attempts to discern in his mind who this man must be, hoping he is not mistaking a past acquaintance or friend for a stranger, but he has most certainly not met this man before, or so he concludes in his inner dialogue, and proceeds to nod along to the ongoing tension and pursuing conversation.
 
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Name: Cardis
Location: Base of Mountain
Interaction: Talking to Crya + Knight

Cardis only nods to his twin and squeezes her hand with his own. He walks on, letting her continue to vent her frustrations and giving his usual short responses. He believed his twin that there were no wild elf camps nearby but- but. There was always the possibility. And he didn't know if his sister alone would be enough to fend off cannibals.

When they make it to the base of the mountain, he and his twin emerge from the path, taking the narrow path. Cardis looks in surprise as others also emerge from the woods at the same time. He shrinks inside his scarf a little bit. Then he sees the giant of a man in front of them all. That tugging in his gut pulls painfully towards him and it twists his stomach from the pain and fear. This guy was no priest. Or at least, not like any priest he had seen. Cardis thought this guy was someone he never ever wanted to upset.

He thought he'd be prepared as he watched the Knight's mouth open but he wasn't ready for how the simple words make him feel. He feels as if ice water has been dunked directly onto his head and the words are pulled from his mouth. So much for not upsetting him.
"Apologies, sir." He squeaks out, voice strained and high.


Cardis is disturbed by this feeling. The tugging inside of him, the way his words move through his very being... it's weird. And scary. It's not anything he likes. He didn't know what they were late for but he felt the need to remedy it as soon as possible.
 
At the base of the mountain by a small, narrow path leading up to the Nernwyr Temple...​

The man's gaze flickered across each of your faces with an air of curiosity. He took in your appearance - he was evaluating you - one by one. The air was tense as some less confidently than others apologised for their tardiness - to what, you still weren't sure - but a palpable silence followed. Then he sighed heavily. Disappointed, but resigned.

He grumbled something under his breath you didn't quite catch as he slipped the book into a satchel on his belt, tucked beneath his cloak. The snow that had begun to pile up on him shifted and fell off of him as he moved, putting his gauntlet on and grabbing his helm, tucking that under his arm.

"You will not keep me waiting again," he said with finality, his tone severe, with no room for compromise. "Not if you want to survive until next Winter. So learn now, that when you are called, you come."

Standing now, the elder man's height rose, and indeed he was a towering figure; close to seven feet, you wagered. Those with keener eyes - smiths and builders - would be able to more accurately estimate just how tall he was. But it was clear to all that not even humans got as tall as this man.

"Tie your mounts just over there," he said to those who rode here. Looking to where he pointed, you could see iron-wrought rings hammered into the stone, a small icy-water trough just below them - perfect to tie them to until someone came to fetch them. "They'll be safely transported up a wider path to the stables on the other side of the Spine. You won't be separated long."

"Now, name yourselves," he instructed, gesturing with a wave as he began up the narrow path, "and follow me. I hope you've packed for the mountain's climate. I won't save any of you from freezing to death."
 
Name: Coryn
Location: Heading to the Base of the Drakeheart Mountains
Interaction: The Party talking with the Knight

The sting of disappointment tickled Coryn. Even if he didn't know this man very well, he hated being a disappointment. Afterall, he commanded a certain attention and poise that only seasoned veterans had. This man was important and he already didn't like him. What was even worse was that he somehow manipulated that freaky tugging feeling in his chest, so he couldn't even deny his importance. He needed to follow this stranger, for better or for worse.

Wordlessly Coryn leaves Zalie's side, cupping the side of Dahlia's face and reassuring her that he'll be back for her. At this point, he finally got a glance at the others who had also caught up to them. Three new faces joined them, all three as confused as he was. Good, at least he wasn't alone in this. Leading Dahlia over to the rings, he tied up his friend and picked his luggage off her back. With everyone distracted, he hoped no one would notice him give a little pet at her mane.

"Don't worry Dahlia, We'll see each other at the top," He hums, checking the knot twice, then returned to the group once again. Four humans and a Half-Foot are stopped by an unknown giant at a fork in the path. Sounds like the start of a horrible joke.

"My name is Coryn Sir, Coryn Balfiel." Without waiting for anyone else, Coryn speaks up first. Good to establish himself. Makes it known that he loves initiative and what not. At the mention of winter clothes, once again Coryn thanked their Captain back home. Smart man. Smart man indeed.
 
Ezrannoth said:
Name: Coryn
Location: Heading to the Base of the Drakeheart Mountains
Interaction: The Party talking with the Knight

The sting of disappointment tickled Coryn. Even if he didn't know this man very well, he hated being a disappointment. Afterall, he commanded a certain attention and poise that only seasoned veterans had. This man was important and he already didn't like him. What was even worse was that he somehow manipulated that freaky tugging feeling in his chest, so he couldn't even deny his importance. He needed to follow this stranger, for better or for worse.

Wordlessly Coryn leaves Zalie's side, cupping the side of Dahlia's face and reassuring her that he'll be back for her. At this point, he finally got a glance at the others who had also caught up to them. Three new faces joined them, all three as confused as he was. Good, at least he wasn't alone in this. Leading Dahlia over to the rings, he tied up his friend and picked his luggage off her back. With everyone distracted, he hoped no one would notice him give a little pet at her mane.

"Don't worry Dahlia, We'll see each other at the top," He hums, checking the knot twice, then returned to the group once again. Four humans and a Half-Foot are stopped by an unknown giant at a fork in the path. Sounds like the start of a horrible joke.

"My name is Coryn Sir, Coryn Balfiel." Without waiting for anyone else, Coryn speaks up first. Good to establish himself. Makes it known that he loves initiative and what not. At the mention of winter clothes, once again Coryn thanked their Captain back home. Smart man. Smart man indeed.
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The man looks back at him, then at his clothes - the uniform. "The hippocampus of Kalrathous," he noted. His tone suggested there was some respect. "I haven't been to the capital for some years now, but I'm familiar with the heraldry. What House do you serve - Auguinoch, or was it now Hvess?"
 
Name: Coryn
Location: Heading to the Base of the Drakeheart Mountains
Interaction: The Party talking with the Knight + Talking now specifically to the Knight
"I hail from neither house sir. I am a knight of the Montbelliard family." Again Coryn strikes that practiced salute, looking at the man dead on. While this could seem disrespectful to some, it was best to look a man in the eyes rather than look like some sort of coward. Coryn was many things, but he would not be a coward.
 
Name: C'yra
Location: Heading to the Base of the Drakeheart Mountain from Stolhoc
Interaction: Cardis + Knight


"You're Late."
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A sentence that struck into her very soul, it was unsettling, how one man could command strangers with such nonchalance and still expect them to listen.

Worse of all, she felt compelled to listen. Insecure, like standing on a rocky boat in the middle of restless waves. C'yra stepped instinctively forward in front of her twin. Eyes narrowed. She hated feeling like she's not in some semblance of control, of initiative. Of knowing she's in an disadvantage.

"Apologies," Voice pressed, steady. Analyzing the man just as he was evaluating them, the elf's eyes stared straight at the well armored knight. Defiant, determined. "I'm Crydora...sir, and this is my brother Cardissian."

A pause, before she worked up the courage to ask. "What is your name, sir knight?"
 
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