Morielen RP: Vanon and Galbohtommar
Approaching dark, looming estates.
A large gray destrier stamps at the ground, barded in light plate armor. Vanon Woods is here. He wields a flame stylized warhammer in both hands. A gilded gate guards the entrance to a cobblestone path, winding away towards sprawling estates. Upon the gate, a polished brass plaque lists the private estates.
You see the following people here: Morielen, Vanon
Vanon begins to follow Morielen.
You open the gilded bronze gates and depart to a wooded path.
~*walkies*~
A small forest glade.
Set back from the bustle of the city, deep in the woods, a ring of trees frames a dark glade. Overhead, the interlacing branches of the thick canopy block off the majority of the sun's harsh rays while the aroma of woodland herbs and tree resins vie for prominence with a sharp, metallic smell.
The entrance to a small cave sits off to the side, bare rock edges peaking through a thick covering of moss as a draping root blocks all but a whisper thin space to squeeze through. Centered in the clearing is a fountain, gurgling out the source of the coppery sweet and unmistakeable scent.
An elegantly carved couch lies here, upholstered in cerulean silks. A large fountain is here, slowly pouring water down into a geometric nine-pointed base.
Morielen leads the way through a forest path to a dark clearing and turns to face Vanon and his horse.
Vanon follows quietly, his large hands tucked into the pockets of a pair of black leather trousers. a barded gray destrier follows along somewhat behind the tall human, its eyes peering around with clear suspicion at the unfamiliar surroundings.
Morielen cocks her head to the side in an avien gesture saying to Vanon "You say it is not magic. What is it?"
Vanon smiles faintly, the amber flecks in his eyes causing the dark green orbs to seem to sparkle somewhat. "First, tell me why you wish to know," he states calmly. His voice is rough, almost simple in nature, though unaggressive.
Morielen brushes her hair back from her face, tucking the strands behind her ear. Looking to Vanon as though his question is one a child would know the answer to she states plainly "Everything."
Vanon gazes at her for a moment, before he smirks. "I said why, not what."
Morielen considers Vanon quietly before inclining her head to Vanon "Because, I would know everything." Turning away she walks towards a stone fountain and sits on the edge of it, dipping her finger into the liquid to swirl it around "And because someone I counted a friend had the same powers. He is gone but I would like to know more in his memory."
Vanon moves over towards the fountain, hands still comfortably in his pants pockets. A barded gray destrier seems content to stay near the edge of the clearing, one eye on her as it crops the grass. The tall human glances down into the fountain, remaining silent for a moment. "It is not magic. They are acts of faith, and belief. Of closeness."
Morielen lifts her chin, looking upwards at Vanon's towering form "What do you mean, closeness?"
Vanon glances over to her, the reflections of the light playing oddly across the surface of his eyes and sun-darkened face. "Of closeness with the Burner of Cities," he says quietly, before he glances back down at the fountain's contents. "My abilities are blessings, used in acts of worship of Him."
Morielen splashes the liquid and taking a cloth, dries her fingers. "You have the skill because you are close to the god humans worship. Tell me, why did you pick that one? What quality is in it that makes men go to him?"
Vanon shrugs his wide shoulders nonchalantly. "Do you mean men as in gender, or men as in humans?"
Morielen pulls her feet up onto the edge of the fountain, tugging her skirt down to cover her legs. Wrapping her arms around them she rests her chin on her knees "Men as in gender. I don't know any women who have followed him. Only my lost friend and now you."
Vanon chuckles quietly, his eyes shifting back to her. "Several women have followed Him," he says quietly. "Sappho. Juvia. Rill, Ulalah. Others, too." Vanon lifts his eyes, gazing out at the forest straight ahead of him. "I follow Him because what I can do is natural for me. As if I were born this way, with this gift..though I did not learn it officially until I was nineteen or so."
Morielen scowls at the mention of Sappho, her face twisting into an expression of rage for an instant before smoothing over "The first is not worth the dirt on my feet, the other's I do not know." She continues thoughtfully "I did not hear she had tied herself to Prandur. He should burn her and cast her out."
Vanon's lips twitch upwards at the corners, a hint of amusement in his voice. "I was not the most fond of dear Sappho myself," he says, rocking on his feet somewhat before relaxing back down flat on them. "She was too soft, too weak. The others are awake often enough. Juvia is even somewhat open, and I imagine she would speak with you as well." Turning towards Morielen, Vanon pulls his hands from his pockets and sits down next to her on the fountain, letting his arms rest over his thighs.
Morielen watches Vanon's movements closely, her eyes showing a wariness unrevealed in the rest of her "If I meet them, I will ask questions. If he draws men and women, then what draws people to him?" she asks as her eyes remain fixed on his face.
Vanon sucks thoughtfully on his lips, before they turn up into a smile. However, unlike before, his eyes do not crinkle pleasantly at the corners, giving the expression something of a cold look. "I will tell you a story," he murmurs thoughtfully. "Once, there was a village who did not pay homage to Prandur, God of Fire, as they should have. That winter was exceptionally cold..and no matter how hard the people in that village tried, none of them could light a fire." Vanon looks over to her, his expression still slightly cold and uncaring. "They died. All of them, to the last man, woman, and child. Froze to death, they did. Poor things." Vanon turns his eyes back towards the forest, picking idly beneath one nail.
Morielen drops her feet to the side of the fountain, sitting upright. Her voice emotionless and frank she states "If they died, then it was through their own faults and lack of intelligence. If they'd cared at all about their children and had any thoughts in their heads they'd have found an answer or at least sent their children to safer homes. A moredhel woman would have taken her young to the south, where they would be warm and survive." She cocks her head to the side once more "So, people are drawn to him because they fear him turning his back?"
Vanon chuckles quietly, glancing over at Morielen, an amused look now in his eyes. "And do you think you'd have made it, through the snow? With no fire, no heat...no warmth? You would have died, regardless. As would have the young." Giving a soft snort, he glances back towards the forest again. "Some join out of duty. To serve Him and keep those they care for warm. Some join from love, because the Burner of Cities is not a cruel God, though sometimes He can be calculating and seemingly cold, and has gentler tenets than simple destruction."
Vanon continues, his eyes dropping to his hands as he picks beneath his thumbnail. "Some, like myself, are drawn simply because we are gifted with talent. Ability is something one should not shirk, even if you do not enjoy that which you are talented at. Thankfully, I am both."
Morielen's attention remains on Vanon's eyes, studying them closely as she says simply "I know I would have. Moredhel are not bound by human gods, or cowed by them. My ties are to the ancestors. My knowledge and strength comes from those who came before me. Your god would not take the heat from my young because we are not tied to him and his kind."
Vanon smiles slightly, and then shrugs. "Perhaps. But better to give respect where respect is due, even if He has no direct control over you, I think... than to risk His wrath. Even if you are bound to your ancestors, I doubt even they could stop Him if He decided to rob you of all the sources of warmth." Vanon looks over to her. "What else would you like to know?"
Morielen's attention travels slowly over Vanon's face, watching the movements evident from the smallest of changes in the muscles underlying his skin "What is it like, to draw on fire your way?"
Vanon's lips twitch again, as if he were forcing down a smile. "Have you ever had sex," he asks bluntly, head cocking slightly to one side as he watches her expression.
Morielen says, "Yes, many years ago."
Vanon nods his head. "Do you remember the feeling of pleasure it brought? The pleasure that the act brings rippling through your muscles that makes you tilt your head back and shiver, sighing, before you hunger for more?"
Morielen shakes her head "It was not like that, it was a battle. Not something made of shivering, sighing and hunger."
Vanon's lips stretch into a wry smile. "Wrong kind of sex you had, then," he says. "But it is similar to what I described. Simply emotional, rather than physical, for me."
Morielen leans forward, her arms resting lightly in her lap "Then, you feel this hunger when you make fire? You feel pleasure from it?"
Vanon nods slightly. "Somewhat," he says, still facing her. "The manner is not quite the same. I enjoy it, it gives me pleasure - but the hunger does not control me."
Morielen asks curiously, her tone of voice indicating the answer is important to her "And if someone asked you to do something painful for you with that power, would the conflict of feelings affect you?"
Vanon gazes into her eyes, silent for a moment, before he says, "The most painful thing I have ever done, was to go somewhere that my abilities are completely and utterly useless," he says. "I went beneath the lake near Stardock town, where there is no fire, no warmth. There are only creatures of the water, elementals of the water."
Morielen waits a moment to see if Vanon will continue then says "That is not using your power to do something painful for you. What if you had to kill someone you cared for to save them from something worse?"
Vanon tilts his head to the side. "What pain would come from that? Temporary harm for greater safety? Such a thing would not be painful, I think," he says, before pausing thoughtfully. "Hearing them scream as elemental fire coursed through their veins would be difficult, I think, but I would not equate it with pain."
Morielen's corners of her lips lift in a small ghost of a smile "Thank you." Her question answered she returns to what Vanon said earlier and asks "Why did you go under the lake? Were you on a spiritual journey?"
Vanon shakes his head. "No. Someone I love asked me to come visit it with her. I told her how I felt about it, my unsurety and how useless I would be in such a place, were a fight to break out," he says quietly. "She said that she would do her utmost to keep me safe." Vanon looks back out towards the trees briefly, his brow creasing slightly before he looks back to Morielen. "I decided to trust my safety to her, and so I went."
Morielen watches Vanon silently, raw edges of broken memories pushed closer to the surface at his words. After a long, quiet moment she asks "You looked away, and your face tightened." she taps her own fingers against her brow "Why? Was it a bad choice?"
Vanon shakes his head, grinning slightly. "Nah," he says, tone now nonchalant. "I was just surprised at myself. I still am, somewhat. I'm not a man who trusts others easily. I rely on myself, and what I can do. To rely on someone else...was very much out of character for me."
Morielen dips her head, indicating her understanding "She is important to you then, for you to act against your nature." Looking to the liquid in the fountain she says "I can understand going against your nature because someone is important to you."
Vanon nods his head, making an affirming sound. "She is. I love her dearly," he murmurs. "But still. It must be more than I can tell right now, because...even with the woman who bore my daughter, I never did such things."
Morielen lifts her face to Vanon and offers "I could read the bones for you one day to help you understand your situation more. Knowledge for knowledge, it is a fair exchange."
Vanon smiles at her, and then shakes his head again. "Thank you, but I must decline. I would rather not know, and strive forward by my own efforts. Do you have any other questions for me?"
Morielen watches Vanon thoughtfully before answering "I will, but you do not have to stay while I consider more if you have other places to be."
Vanon waves a hand dismissively before he shifts, sitting down on the ground by the side of the fountain, only to lean back against a geometric fountain of Keshian design. "Consider, and ask."
Morielen takes a small, pewter goblet from a pouch at her side and dips it into the fountain, lifting the cup to her mouth she takes a deep drink before lowering it and looking to Vanon, her tongue darting out to remove a droplet from her lip. "You said you love someone now, is the feeling similar to what you feel for your god? Is love devotion?"
Vanon purses his lips, his green eyes tilting up to gaze into the leaves of a nearby tree. "The word is the same, but its meaning is different," he says thoughtfully. "I love her because of who she is, and how she makes me feel. I love Prandur because of what He is, and what He represents."
Morielen considers Vanon's words before asking "What is he, and what does he represent for you?"
Vanon pulls his knees up, resting his long arms over them. He idly rubs his thumb and index finger together on his right hand, a small sworl of fire flickering along the calloused digits. "My God," he says, before he grins slightly and glances over at Morielen. "He is the Spreader of Confusion, the Burner of Cities. He is the Light Bringer, the God of Fire. He represents various aspects of myself, in multiple ways."
Morielen's eyes light with deeper interest as she grabs onto the last of Vanon's words "Aspects of yourself? What do you mean by that?"
Vanon Woods smiles and says, "Mm. My thirst for better understanding, by the way the light from flame pushes back the shadows, revealing that which lies hidden within. My hunger for battle, as the Inferno consumes its victims with near impunity. Things like that."
Morielen holds her hand out, a small flame dancing in her palm, burning white hot at it's base "You are drawn to Prandur for the knowledge you seek, I can understand and respect that." Flicking her wrist she tosses the flame to the center of the fountain where it dances just above the surface of the liquid, the heat causing it to bubble and steam "What is your reason for battle? What do you fight for?"
Vanon chuckles, and then shrugs. "Such is simply my nature. I have no reason, unless someone gives me one."
Morielen cocks her head to the side, "You fight for fighting, not because you believe in something or defend something important to you?"
Vanon nods agreeably. "Most of the time, yes. Unless someone gives me reason, as I said." He pauses here, tilting his head to the side before he glances at her again. "Few ever do."
Morielen asks curiously "Why? And why do you wait for others to give you a reason?"
Vanon tilts his head at her "I do it because I enjoy it, normally. It is my nature, as I said. I fight when I desire to fight, and I do not when I do not."
Morielen's eyes search Vanon's face as she asks "Is it human nature then, that drives you to fight without cause or convictions?"
Vanon Woods says to her, "No, I doubt that. Even among my own kind, people like myself are very rare. Many of the others regard me as dangerous." He shrugs helplessly, smiles impishly and says, "Something which is true, without question."
Morielen looks thoughtfully at Vanon "You did not seem dangerous in the caves, and you do not act it now."
Vanon Woods says to you, "Caves?"
Morielen nods her head and says "With the then hatchling Christoff, in the hadati caves." Lowering her hand to indicate Vanon's place on the ground she says "You even sit at my feet, your body language is indicative of a desire to be non-threatening."
Vanon's lips twitch upwards, his expression amused. "Because my nature is not readily apparent in my appearance. You should be wary of that, many others are the same. Some who smile at you would just as soon stab you in the back. In a similar vein, for as non-threatening as I may seem, and as gentle as I can be at times.." The large human shrugs, before he flashes her a wry smile. "Do not think that I am passive, or not dangerous. I could kill you, right now. With my bare hands, probably before you had much of a chance to scream at all."
Morielen shrugs "I expect that much from humans, but you're still making an attempt."
Vanon Woods says to Morielen, "You should expect it from your own people as well. Many, many people are like it, though I doubt many can shift between them the way I can." He shrugs, tilting his head back and looking back into the trees' leafy boughs. "Byproduct of my upbringing."
Morielen's eyes remain on Vanon, now resting on his large, calloused hands "How do you mean, 'shift between them' and what was your upbringing?"
Vanon's eyes remain on the trees, and he shakes his head slightly. "My upbringing is not something I wish to discuss," he says, his expression becoming tight. "As far as shifting between them...I could be here, now, speaking with you like this. Go kill Eledhel, revel in it, love crushing them beneath my hammer. Laugh while I do it. Come back here, sit, speak more."
Morielen's confusion clears from her face, the physical evidence of it only now revealed by it's sudden removal "You are a warrior then. Warriors are meant to be like this. You go out and fight, you return to your home having shed the battle like a cloak. This is normal. It is not normal where you are from?"
Vanon's face tightens suddenly, his calm posture and air becoming tense and rigid. "I need to leave," he says quietly. "Speaking with my former wife seems to have drained me of my desire to conversate. Perhaps we can speak again later, after I have calmed."
Morielen indicates the path back to Sar-Sargoth with a wave of her hand "You can find the city that way, or I can give you a rift close to another location."
Vanon stands up, picking up a flame stylized warhammer tightly in one hand. He strides off in the direction she pointed without a backwards glance or pausing to mount a barded gray destrier, which after a small, doubtful-sounding whicker turns to follow the tall man.
~*Morielen wanders around doing her thing, eventually makes her way to the square, where Galbohtommar and Keriya are standing*~
Morielen inclines her head to the two.
Galbohtommar inclines his head to Morielen, acknowledging her presence.
Galbohtommar-
He is a deadly Moredhel elf and is a towering individual, looming at about six and a half feet. He is heavily muscled, the dark hues of his skin hiding the many scars on his corded arms and neck. Deep black eyes watch the world warily from underneath a furrowed brow and his long black hair is tied neatly in a pony tail. His voice is deep and low, like a roiling peal of thunder. He is wearing clothing Yay!
Keriya nods towards Morielen and leaves south.
~*Morielen takes the mounts from the square to the stables*~
Galbohtommar arrives in the square from the north.
Morielen inclines her head to Galbohtommar, acknowledging his presence.
Galbohtommar rumbles, "What are you doing with all the mounts?"
Morielen tilts her head to the side, contemplating the man standing before her "Who are you, to question me?" and gathers the shadows around herself, the room is plunged into complete darkness.
Galbohtommar frowns, "I am not questioning you, I am asking something to sate my curiosity!"
Morielen's voice rolls around in the darkness, seeming to come from all directions at once "I am taking them to the stables, where they belong."
Galbohtommar grunts, "Also, my bull is gone, perhaps it already turned to steak like the Praetor forecast."
~*Morielen goes hunting, does her wandering, goes home. Time passes, in other words.*~
(Sar-Sargoth): Galbohtommar says, "I do not suppose anyone has seen...or eaten a bull that belonged to me?"
(Sar-Sargoth): Rhiarinn says, "I have not seen one, no."
Morielen tells Draakki Galbohtommar, "Have you learned to sense where your bull is?"
Galbohtommar tells Morielen, "No, nor can I stable it and it does not seem to have fallen into your hands and been moved to "where they belong"."
Morielen tells Draakki Galbohtommar, ""Where they belong" is the stables. Where did you last see it?"
Galbohtommar tells Morielen, "The square."
Morielen tells Draakki Galbohtommar, "Mages rift at the square. Many people have lost mounts because an enemy rogue can snatch them and ride them through a rift before anyone can react. It is not a safe place to keep them. Do you need a beast of burden?"
~*Morielen enters a small dry cave and takes the lead for a chestnut brown brown mare who falls obediently into line behind her. She then begins the walk from her clearing to Sar-Sargoth's central square*~
Galbohtommar tells Morielen, "...I see. Well, I would have thought the fancy of these rogues would be caught by a nobler beast. Matters not. No thank you, I will get one myself when I need it."
Sar-Sargoth Central Square.
The ominous power of the Dark Path ect ect ect...
The following people here: Keriya, Barathrum, Galbohtommar, Alsenya
Exits leading northwest, west, south, southeast, east, and north.
Barathrum recites a fiery liturgy praising the divine glories of Guis-wan, the Red-Jawed Hunter, his eyes burning with conviction.
The space around Barathrum shifts subtly as he prays devoutly.
~*Morielen gifts a chestnut brown brown mare to Galbohtommar, leaves the mare with him and walks away*~
Galbohtommar tells Morielen, "Hrm, thank you! That was hardly called for. Now I am indebted to you."
Morielen tells Draakki Galbohtommar, "I gained the horse without cost to myself. You have saved me the cost of it's continued care by needing one of your own."
Galbohtommar tells Morielen, "That may very well be, it does not change the fact however."
Morielen's brow creases as she frowns and tells Galbohtommar, "Consider your dept paid then, because the burden the animal represents is no longer on my shoulders but yours."
Galbohtommar tells Morielen, "It is not that simple, but I will not speak of it anymore. I will simply repay it when the time is right and I am able."
Morielen tells Draakki Galbohtommar, "Just remember to lead it somewhere that people will not take it from."
~*Morielen walks to the Stables of the Black Riders to see if Galbohtommar is there. Finding him, she beckons him to follow her*~
Morielen says to Galbohtommar, "Follow me, I will show you a place few go." and gathers the shadows around herself, the room is plunged into complete darkness.
Galbohtommar contemplates the situation, says "Hrm." and begins to follow Morielen.
~*Morielen leads Galbohtommar through Sar-Sargoth to the slave pits and pushes a large iron gate, walking through to the slave pits beyond.*~
Galbohtommar takes in the surroundings and nods curtly.
Morielen says, "You can bring the horse here, or take it further down."
Draakki Galbohtommar says, "I see. Why do you keep hiding in the shadows like that?"
Morielen says, "Because the sunlight hurts." and shades her eyes.
Galbohtommar glances upwards, "No it does not!"
Morielen makes a splitting motion as reality thins and tears apart, forming a shimmering Rift to a small, dark forest glade.
Leading the way through the rift, Morielen says to Galbohtommar, "It does not hurt you, but this is where I spend much of my time."
Galbohtommar rumbles, "You like forests then?"
Morielen moves over to the fountain and sits on it's edge "My eyes are not accustomed to the brightness of the sun any longer." Looking curiously at Galbohtommar she says "Forests provide the herbs for my salves, and the animals I hunt for food, hides and sinew."
Galbohtommar looks at Morielen dispassionately, "I understand. So you are a sort of alchemist then?" He looks at the trees around him with a gaze somewhere between curiosity and disdain, "My parents left to dwell with those weak cousins of ours. Can't say the forest is any love of mine!"
Morielen shakes her head "I know some alchemy, I haven't finished learning it yet." Bending down she picks up a jar from the ground near the wall of the fountain and tosses it to Galbohtommar "For example, you would rub that onto wounds to lessen the scars produced." Her eyes light with interest at Galbohtommar's mention of his parents "You have family who fell to the
witches spell?"
Galbohtommar looks at her with careful scrutiny before slashing his hand onto his spear. Blood flows freely from his hand as he recites a short prayer to Guis-Wan, the wound mending and a faint scar blooming over the bloodied skin, "I need not salves to mend scars, my scars show my devotion!" He considers your question for a few moments, "I no longer have natural family, I am now Dragon!" he says, matter of factly.
Morielen's eyes drift to the wound and the blood dripping from it, her expression curious as it closes. In a quiet voice she says "Yes, you belong in Dragon." Lifting her eyes to Galbohtommar's face she opens her hands, cupping them "If you have no need of salves, please return mine. I find it useful."
Galbohtommar nods and hands back the salve, "I can understand the need for salves, but it does not apply to me. Why do you say you are not accustomed to the light anymore? I thought forests should be all full of light and ..." he spits out the following words, "joy and bliss!"
Morielen sets the jar down where she'd picked it up from before lifting her hand to indicate the canopy above their heads "Do you see much light filtering through the tree tops? Not all forests are filled with happily ever after fairy tales. Most are filled with darkness, hunters and prey, the cycles of life."
Galbohtommar grins wickedly, "Hunter and prey I can understand, I just found your choice an odd one, to hide away from the light." He shrugs lightly, as if the matter does not present too much interest, "Do you find yourself more the hunter or more the prey?"
Morielen growls, "I am moredhel. I am the hunter." and points out a slightly less vegetation filled 'path' through the trees "Sar-Sargoth is that way. Remember to keep your horse indoors when you are not riding it."
Galbohtommar nods curtly and inclines his head respectfully to her, understanding that the discussion is at an end.
Galbohtommar takes the path, leaving the clearing.