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Post by Mirielle Merlon on Mar 17, 2017 16:46:04 GMT
SolaielA less educated or wary soul might have seized on the lever he presented - his pride. Mirielle’s tutors, though, had always told her that when a power player willingly reveals a weakness, they’re often doing it to see who’ll try to exploit it, and how. Jumping right into flattery had a good chance of losing her more than it gained. Still, there were ways to flatter indirectly, weren’t there. “I look forward to it,” she said, and found that she meant it. His dragon form might blot out the sky, but it felt less...immediate than when he looked like a human. When he talked with her as a person, she couldn’t help but remember the terms of the bargain they’d made, terms that this journey had partially kept her from honouring. If ‘honour’ was the appropriate word. “I’ve been well taught, and I have plenty of recent experience sketching the...what did you call them? The Karahacen? That was educational. I’m fairly sure you’ll be pleased with the result.” The ship rocked gently. “I think we might be underway. Six days at sea. I probably shouldn’t ask this, Solaiel...but how do you manage boredom?”
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Post by Solaiel on Mar 18, 2017 2:35:39 GMT
Solaiel had let his emotions get the better of him. Thinking back a couple hundred years would do that to him. Those battles had been costly for both the Empire, and for the Kingdom of the Dragons. However, Mirielle kept her composure when other mortals would have paled and cowered under his agitation. He eyed her in a new light. The dragon realized that he hadn't really given her much credit until now. He considered her a princess by title, but he didn't stop to think about how such a woman would be forged on the anvil of tutelage. She'd have to be drilled with the subtle skills needed to survive the brutal landscape of nobility. "Yes, the Karahacen was our name for them. They are related to the Derahacen, who now inhabit the City of Draccin. Creatures created in our image, and now they do my banking," spoke the dragon thoughtfully as he reached up to stroke his goatee with his fingers. "I thought these Saurians were extinct. Their last shepherd is a few thousand years gone. So many bloodlines broken." He contemplated on this before her next words grazed across his thoughts. The gentle rocking did likely signify winds grabbing onto unfurled sails. He didn't have much knowledge of the sailor's way of life, but that seemed obvious enough. He pushed himself up from the bed and stretched. Her prince would likely come back soon, and Solaiel would have to play the part of a guard. Was it Perona that she had mentioned would be where he came into her service? "Boredom?" He'd have a hard time explaining all of the things he did to pass the time. Dragons had quite a bit of it to pass after all. Of course gaining the shape of a human had allowed him to take on all of their sins as well. Fine foods, wines, and sins of the flesh was just a small taste of what the opposable thumbed lesser race had to offer. "I'm rather entertained right now. I'm watching new events unfold. A princess is willing to accept great sacrifice to protect her people. She takes the company of a dragon, and carries his heart in her trunk. That jewel pulses with the dragons essence. The longer the princess keeps the jewel close by, the more likely she'll be corrupted by it. Yet if she comes into danger, the jewel could save her life." "Does she try to take power to protect her people, or does she try to keep her humanity safe? If she takes the power, does she have the willpower to stay her course?" One way to avoid boredom was to meddle into the lives of others. Even if it came at great personal harm to others. Mirielle Merlon
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Post by Mirielle Merlon on Mar 19, 2017 22:34:38 GMT
Mirielle sank down straight-backed on the very edge of the bed Solaiel had just vacated. Her thoughts wanted to race, but they collided with unknown quantities along multiple avenues. She faced the same inevitability she'd encountered so many times in Taun-Lok's company: a question she instinctively didn't want to ask, but which provided her only way forward. Among the Karahacen, she'd gotten better at asking those questions without undue hesitation, despite bone-deep apprehension. "If I'm to make that choice," she said slowly, "if I'm to be...entertaining to you, I need to know more. One of my tutors used to say that agency is knowledge of the results of our choices. Remove any of the three components and there is no true agency. Two of the components are intact: there's certainly a choice before me, and the options will certainly produce different results. But knowledge is what I need, so tell me two things." The formal language of academia and court provided a mask of sorts, a defense against the strangeness of the moment and its heavy stakes. Being formal, even wordy, comforted her. "What would it look like, this corruption you're talking about? Emotional, mental, spiritual, physical? And if your heart was to save my life, what would that look like?"
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Post by Solaiel on Mar 23, 2017 1:21:25 GMT
Mirth was an expression that he commonly covered himself in. Sol did do everything he could to find amusement where it could be prodded out. However, the princess' words had brought out a short fit of raucous laughter. "You'd have me explain all of the secrets at once would you, eh girl?" The man raised his hand back to his chin to stroke his small beard absentmindedly as he tended to do while in thought. "If you are going to choose? Usually we have no options when we make our choices," said the man in light voice as if he meant it to be inaudible. His thoughts continued to race. The subject had brought him to an old friend that had once taught him to wield his powers. Solaiel's mentor had been a female dragon named Rhuialin. He suddenly recollected on the day he stood over the dying body of his teacher. She had perched on the council of seven as the seat of the darkness element. She had been somewhat smaller than Solaiel in dragon form, but exceptionally his senior in age and experience. That day he stood over her as he watched helplessly while she writhed in a growing pool of her own blood. The red liquid shot forth from a wound where a ballista bolt had gone into her throat. It was a one in a million shot that had managed to bring down one of the eldest dragons during a battle with the empire. Rhuialin could heal herself, but she could only do it by sapping the soul energy of others. There were no beings within sight where she had crashed landed on a nearby slope. She could have taken it from Solaiel, but for some reason she just stared at him with an unbelievable sense of peace in her eyes as they quickly glazed over. He wasn't sure if he would have been able to stop her if she tried. He wasn't sure if he would have wanted to even though it might have killed him. Yet the eldest of his sect hadn't even tried. She passed on almost as if greeting a friend that had been long overdue. It was a memory that came to him often. Would he look that way if he came to be Rhuialin's age? Could he face death without clawing for any foothold against it? Solaiel shook his head fervently for a moment before turning back to the woman. His composure reformed as a wicked smile graced his features. "Tell me Mirielle. If you had the power to touch the souls of others. You could feed upon that energy, and even use it as a weapon. What would you do with it? Your friends can tame fire, or grow trees. Useful things, but you only have power over death. Would you keep yourself from harming others?" A chuckle slipped out as he leaned back against the nearby wall. "You carry a link to me. Through it I can consume the ones that would harm you. True divine protection unlike anything your foolish clerics could wield. The cost is that in time you would come dependent upon it. Mine is the power of hunger and consumption. It develops a hunger that only I can feed." The followers of Rhuialin, would stay many years in her service before they showed the signs of corruption. Just being in her presence was enough to warp them in time. They didn't die, but they were no longer quite human. There was a hunger for her presence, and a fever when she was far away. One might have considered it cruel, except that these followers were likely as happy as could be possible when she was nearby. Such a thing would take years, but none of them had held a direct connection to her like the one Mirielle held of Solaiel. There was no knowing how fast or slow the hunger would seep in. Mirielle Merlon
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Post by Mirielle Merlon on Mar 30, 2017 18:24:48 GMT
SolaielMiri felt her eyes go wide, her breath quicken, and not for the first time. The dragon tended to have that effect on her, for one reason or another. Fear usually factored in, but this time around it felt more like a response to an audacious dream. There was no reason, so far as she could tell, that the idea of handling and mastering lives should appeal to her. Apart from academic cantrips and improvised, clumsy blood magic, under no circumstances could she have called herself a magician. But the longer she traveled among dangerous old beings, the more she recognized that magic didn't have to be innate. That didn't mean, though, that its power would be free. There was always a cost, and addiction was a steep cost indeed. Then again, as her mother would say while trousseau-shopping: buy well, enjoy forever. You get what you pay for. "That's no choice to make lightly," she said. Why did she always feel like she was speaking to buy time to think? "I've shed blood, even innocent blood, for my people. For them, I might risk what you're describing. For myself -- if I was the one in danger, not them -- I hope I'd die first." As soon as she said it, though, she recognized the crucial flaw: a royal's life didn't belong to them, and their safety and survival had a bearing on the fate of kingdoms. Wouldn't it be cowardice, though, to let herself paint any personal threat as a threat to Ashdell, and act accordingly? Wouldn't that wind up as justification for a disproportionate response or an undue risk -- like binding herself to addictive magic that could consume souls? Her conscience hinted at answers, but she was afraid that reason would eventually send her in other directions. And she would just have to live with that. Her jaw and throat tightened, and she sat up a little straighter. As for other things she'd have to live with... "I've not forgotten the terms of our bargain, Dawnbreaker. You may collect my side of the deal at your leisure." Was it possible to say such a thing with dignity?
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Post by Solaiel on Mar 31, 2017 5:03:45 GMT
Solaiel would have bathed in short waves of fear she emitted. He would have had he not realized that he had willed such emotion from her absent mindlessly. The dragon hadn't meant to chill her with his words. Amusement may have been his ultimate goal, but he wanted to slowly wrap the girl around his claw. Taking Mirielle's desires forcefully would have held little joy for either of them. A soft shushing sound came from his mouth as he approached her slowly and placed a warm palm to her cheek. It had been meant to be soothing. "Be at ease, my little princess," he added as he smiled. "You stand bravely and sacrifice much for your people. Hard trials lie ahead, but for now you can rest your head under my wings... rest..." Her soul energy would be delectable. It took a sizable effort to restrain himself from simply just reaching out to caress it. He didn't need to actually feed upon her essence. It would be enough to touch it and bask upon it. Yet Solaiel did restrain himself and contented himself to simply stroke her hair a couple times instead. "Our bargain need not chafe you so. I will protect you, Mirielle." He did his best to make his voice calming and warm as he tried to pull her into a gentle embrace. Even as a human she would likely faintly smell the scent of a dragon upon him. Solaiel's mind felt for the entrance to the cabin. He'd know if anyone came close. He could move away if he had to. It wouldn't do for her prince to return to see them so close. He thought that it had been Perona that she said would be best for him to be from. A guard from Perona. Yes perhaps that would be a fun role to play. Mirielle Merlon
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Post by Mirielle Merlon on Apr 1, 2017 13:57:46 GMT
SolaielRelief flooded through her, even though she knew the feeling might not be trustworthy. She closed her eyes and felt the dragon's hand on her cheek, her hair. "Thank you for being a gentleman," she said. He drew her into a gentle embrace, and to her moderate surprise she found herself accepting the gesture regardless of what he intended it to mean. Some small part of her found that shameful, but now was certainly not the time to dwell on that. And in fairness, there was a decent chance she'd need the protection and even comfort he offered. The...shelter. For all Aerlion's intentions, war could never be entirely predictable, and the Elven empire of Malzentine was no lightweight enemy. Elves could be unusually cunning, and often had access to strange and unforeseen advantages. She could easily find herself in personal danger. For the moment, then, she let herself relax into the dragon's embrace, just standing there in the ship's cabin, on her way to a war. "I need help," she said against his shoulder. "You might be the one to offer it. We're bound together, you and I, so maybe some measure of trust is appropriate." She drew back to meet his eyes and found her hands lingering in the general vicinity of his waist or hips. "I've been trying to understand some other measures I took to protect my people, but my tutors never covered...magic that involves...blood. Do you, ah, know anything that might be relevant?"
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Post by Solaiel on Apr 5, 2017 2:06:51 GMT
A gentleman? Solaiel had been called many things in his long lifetime. Gentleman was likely a word he might have only heard when caught up in the deceptive subtle intrigues of court. Never the less he found himself lingering on that word. Why did he feel suddenly protective of her fragile state? Did he avoid forcing his desires upon her out of some kind of nonsensical chivalrous attitude? He had thought that slowly shaping her to beg for his attentions would have been more entertaining. She wasn't just any woman after all, and her purity was surprisingly not yet spoiled by the lengths she was willing to take to protect her people. And yet he found himself wondering if it wasn't her that was actually manipulating him. The fairer sex had a different way of handling situations. The best of them could spin you around their fingers without the slightest threat or violence. Honeyed words coupled with attraction was an effective combination. She didn't seem quite so skilled as that. Yet here he was willing to assist at each request she had so far. Had the last 150 years of exile sent him into such a state of solitude that he could be placed at the beck and call of a mere human? Was his heart so far gone that she was able to exact some kind of control without touching it? Dangerous thoughts, but Solaiel still felt more desire to continue holding her and conversing. He was somehow ... happy. "Blood magic is a result of mortals grasping for the heavens. It is not the same as what I do, but it does reach into my domain. A bird cannot teach a fish to fly. Yet there are some fish that can glide for a time." A few moments passed, before he nodded slowly. Admittedly it would be nice to converse with one that was educated in the knowledge of his people. "Perhaps you might flap your fins. Attend me carefully then," he added as he moved to sit down next to her. He was still quite close at her side. Solaiel proceeded to explain how his people viewed magic. It was split into elements, each element flowed like a river. There was a metaphor given about how humans had small mouths and thus could only drink in small amounts at a time. Dragons were closest to divinity and thus had the largest ability in their specific element. One could hone their craft for efficiency, but they were born with the exact amount of ability they could have. There was an exception however. When one was weak, they had to find other sources of fuel to supplement with. Blood magic was a way to drain the vitality of ones self or of others to add to ones own power. Men could sacrifice other men to achieve goals otherwise not achievable. It wasn't the same thing he did, but it was an attempt at it. He touched the soul, which could leave a body without a mark. Blood magic sacrificed the body. "What have you done with blood as you stumble through the unknown?" Mirielle Merlon
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Post by Prince Ineirin on Apr 5, 2017 4:41:49 GMT
Ineirin strode from the cabin, listening to a report from a page that had come to track him down. The Ashdell delegation had been split into groups and assigned to other ships, who were being loaded as they spoke. It was a larger expedition than he had anticipated, so slower, but that would have to be coped with. The situation had changed, so the expectations and need for haste had changed. He would adapt.
They would all have to adapt. This war would neither be easy nor anticipated. Malzentine had strenth, power, and fervor. They were ancient and dangerous. Aerlion had might and honor and a just cause. Only time and the weavers of fate would tell the tale. He smiled at the thought- their legacy would be written in the currents of history.
But first, they had to win the war. A few hours passed as he supervised the final provisioning and preparations for departure. The wind began to turn, as the tide began to shift. He strode to the top deck and took a deep breath.
"Hoist the colors!" He bellowed across the main ship. There was an affirmative response and the creak of ropes and the banner of Aerlion- the gull and wave beneath three stars fluttered up the mast. It crackled in the wind and pride surged through Ineirin's heart. This was his banner, his kingdom, and his people. A smile quirked at his lips. His betrothed was here too and he wasn't sure how he felt about that. She seemed nice enough. Intelligent, straight-forward. The court-women wouldn't know what to make of her. "Heave anchor and set sail!" He called, "Set course for home! We round the southern tip and north again! The muster awaits!"
Sailors pushed against the capstan, moving the massive wheel. It groaned and creaked as the chain wound its way in. The anchor scraped against the hull and the ship was moving, followed by the others, out to sea. Waves slapped against the hull and the ship keeled to one side as the wind caught the sails, sending it leaping forward. Ineirin reached up and grabbed a line, grinning as the wind pushed his hair back behind him and salt-spray spattered against his face.
He strode down to his cabin, pausing to knock smartly on the door. He did not wish to startle her or come in on her while she was indecent. That would not be decorous.
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Elyran held the blade before his face, looking past it across the strait. Malzentine loomed in the distance, shrouded by fog. That was a blessing- it would hide some of their movements from the enemy scouts. The plans had changed and the muster increased. The number of troops had doubled and two fleets would deploy rather than one. One to assault the capital city and its harbor and the other to land to the north and circle around to entrap them.
They would sail up a river and secure a ford, barricading it with the ships as mobile forts to hold off approaching reinforcements. The fort on the island north of Malzentine would launch skirmishes and raids against the northern coast to pull enemy forces that way. The plan was to divide and conquer, arming and training the oppressed locals with as many weapons could be found to bolster their numbers and welcome them into Aerlion society. Split the island into multiple fronts and trust in his commanders to wage their own battles. Supply ports were already established along the Aerlion coast in the fortifications along the coast, and ships were held back in reserve to shuttle them and the wounded back and forth. Further supplies and reinforcements were moved to support the coastal defenses.
All they needed was for Ineirin too arrive and take command of his army. Then the war could begin.
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Post by Mirielle Merlon on Apr 8, 2017 12:23:20 GMT
Solaiel Prince IneirinIt wasn't every day a dragon sat down to tell you about blood magic. Everything he said inspired further questions, most of which she saved for later. That might have proved to be a mistake, as a knock sounded on the door just as she was about to ask her questions and answer his. "Another time," she said, making sure her clothes were straightened. She thought of asking him to aim for a guard's indifferent aspect and air, but he knew his business. She moved across the small cabin, glanced at the chest to make sure she'd locked it, and opened the door only a handful of heartbeats after the knock. Prince Inierin stood there - by the Swan, but he was going to be her husband, wasn't he. She opened the door wider and dipped in a hint of a curtsey. "Your Highness - ah, Inierin. Thank you again for the use of your cabin. It'll suit my needs perfectly." She glanced back. "This is my guard and chaperone, Sir Dawn. He finished some business on my behalf just before we got underway." Behind Inierin, she watched wind stretch the sails, and the prow rose and fell gently as it sheared through the waves. They were clearly making good time, if her experience with river-boats carried over to a full-sized Aerlioner ship.
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Post by Solaiel on Apr 9, 2017 0:34:49 GMT
Solaiel was also swiftly to his feet. He strode a few steps away from the bed and faced the door as Mirielle began to open it. He kept his magical presence masked. A 150 years of exile had brought the dragon to practice the act of hiding his presence without conscious thought. It was simply second nature now. It wouldn't have been impossible to ferret the dragon out, but it wouldn't have been done without skill and care either. The man waited for Mirielle to introduce him and then he placed his right hand to his sword hilt and bowed gracefully. With his face parallel to the floor, Solaiel grimaced slightly at the given name. Sir Dawn? That was a terrible name. She could have at least tried a little. Now the impostor guardsman was stuck with the moniker. "I have some small knowledge of the Malzentine empire, your highness," he said while rising from his bow. "It is not much as I am not an elf, but perhaps I will be of assistance if fortune favors us." Solaiel hadn't come dressed to play the role of a guardsman. The ornate elvish sabre and his fine black silk coat would have been more suited to a lord than a fighting man. However, years of masquerading as a human had earned him the stony posture of a man well suited and experienced with the blade at his side. Other than clothing his disguise was otherwise almost perfect. He couldn't hide his scent, though that was hardly a concern with humans, but his eyes were quite cold and distant. This was in stark contrast to the warm smile he gave the man. Mirielle Merlon Prince Ineirin
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Post by Prince Ineirin on Apr 9, 2017 4:36:00 GMT
Mirielle Merlon Solaiel --------------- Ineirin gave a slight bow in return to her small curtsey, more out of habit than anything else. Thunder rumbled in the distance, rolling across the wide open waters. He smiled. "I am glad to hear that, Mirielle," he almost tripped over using her name rather than title, but caught himself, and gave her a wider smile. "I wished to inform you that we are underway and that we will be skirting the edge of the storm. While we shall be spared the worst of the storm, it shall be a rough journey." He turned at the introduction and gave a small tilt of his head in acknowledgement. "Well met, Sir Dawn," Ineirin leaned against the doorway as the waves began to swell. "Thank you for your service to the Princess Mirielle, and of your offer." He looked over his shoulder to the horizon. "May fortune favor us all, for Malzentine shall not be an easy war." A sailor ran up to him and said something in his ear. Ineirin paused for a moment, catching something in the other man's eyes. There was something to them. Not human, not behind the eyes. It almost resembled the eyes of the nymphs and selkies that one could sometimes see along the shore around Aerlion. Cold and distant, as if his thoughts moved on another plane. But then, such was the nature of the sea and the Sea-King, so Ineirin could hardly blame him for that. "If your stomachs are up for it," he added after a moment of meeting the other man's eyes, "I hope you would both be willing to join me and the captain for dinner." He quirked a smile, almost laughing. "Might be the best meal you have for several days." The ship rocked and he swayed for a moment before opening the door again. "Dinner shall be served in half an hour in the officer's mess." Ineirin flashed them another grin, more infectious and more genuine. "The Sea-King is blessing us today. With this wind-" He laughed, loud and booming, almost like the sea. "We shall fly to Aerlion like the gulls. Sea-King watch over you. Please, excuse me. I must attend to logistical affairs." He stepped back. The wind ruffled his hair so that it blew around his face and his cloak flapped in the wind. A gust of spray spattered against his face.
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