Delyndra, Ramsas, and Birch
In collaboration with:
@EurmalEye &
@FailingForward
What was she doing here? This was ridiculous. A man had knocked her over in the street, and now she was here getting food with him and a musician at some back alley meat stand. There was no reason for her to have quietly followed him all the way to this place... and yet, she had. There was something captivating in the gaze of this 'Birch', a sense of foreignness, of... not ignorance. That was an unkind word. Alienation? Like everything was somehow exciting to him. Even the barest-bones cantrip she had ever casted in her life. Still swirling at the center of her decision to follow these men here was that sense of pride. A queen would not run; not from these people, not from anyone.
"My name is Delilah Farhill," she said out of the blue, unused to having to introduce herself.
"I am a student at the Andour Academy of Magic, so you are correct to identify me as a scholar, though a master of magic I am... not." She let out a nervous, awkward laugh. The change in wardrobe had done Birch some favors; something about seeing someone cut a fancy and uncomfortable garment to ribbons was quite gratifying to her, though she resolved not to ponder why. At the mention of the Royal Family, she took a sip from the flagon of burning, bitter 'Drink' to hide her face. The taste was sour, but not entirely unpleasant. At the very least, Birch hardly had to worry about what her family would do about his missing gift; on the list of visiting dignitaries she'd have to look out for, she had not seen any in the way of tribespeople, even the sons of any Clan-Leaders. Technically, he was a kind of prince, a thought she entertained with some amusement.
She couldn't resist; now was as good a chance to probe the feelings of the common people as any.
"What do you know of the Royal Family?" she asked, glancing from Birch to Ramsas before taking a bite of the sauce-covered hunk of meat on the plate Birch had given her. Her face wrinkled automatically. It was... certainly something.
"Well it is very fine to meet you Ms. Farhill. And there is an Academy for Magic in this city? Simply incredible! If not a master now, then a master soon, I suppose." Birch watched as her face, as it wrinkled in what was surely the same delight he had felt when he had first tried the cook's fine masterpiece, even if the 'Drink' seemed to be quite poor. Looking on her now, he realized that she possessed a great beauty, with skin that looked like it had never been touched by the blizzards frigid air. More than that though, beyond her eyes seemed to roam about searching and probing for information. Wonderful eyes for a scholar in his mind. He wondered what kinds of things they learned at the Academy, absentmindedly taking another bite of his kebab.
He took a moment to collect his thoughts before answering her question about the royal family, mulling over and organizing his thoughts.
"Not as much as many I am afraid. I know of how King Dreyen Allervia slew the Orc-lord Groakash in the seas and repelled the sea front. We had some communication in the early days of the war as we guarded the Mountain fronts. I know your kingdom has weathered much hardship besides over the years that your king and queen have guided your people through. I know there is a Princess, but not much else about her. I empathize with her though. Clan-leader has led us through some of the worst orcish attacks in the last century since they banded together. As leaders, we have to be prepared to lead our people as well or as good as the people before us. It is our duty, but duty can be a heavy chain to bare indeed."Birch reflected quietly to himself for a moment, then turned to Ramsas.
"But surely our Bard friend here has more knowledge than myself?"Ramsas followed Birch without much of a thought and just rested his tired legs down as he watched Birch leave to grab food. A normal thing he watches people do as he rarely had coin on him, and even if he did it was used to buy his round of drinks, yet it was strange this girl here, she didn't even say a word. She just followed them here and seemed intrigued by Birch, it was fair, he was from a place entirely different than here. Eh, Birch would also see this place as different as well. Fairly few people wield weapons openly, and even fewer are prided in their combat talent he comes from a place both are a norm and he can oftentimes find it fine but most others don't understand that idea. You need to be able to fight and survive because that is your life. Ramsas knows this sentiment as in his time has found himself staring down the same blade Birch has.
As Birch came back he took a drink and began to coax it slowly so he could tell it was not just meat juice he started drinking it. Hmm, definitely not the best but could be worse as it sit well with Ramsas as he placed it down as the girl stated her name, Delilah. He thought it was a pretty name, but it seemed strange she looked like a commoner but she had something off, she is from the college most should have nicer looking cloaks and clothing than she does, might be she just got in there but he might probe that later, and besides the most scholarly people don't come out to these, so it might be that she is different somehow but that can be a question for a later moment right now she asked them a question.
He listened to Birch and was slightly saddened that he held such a weight as he can tell it weighs on him as his voice changed near the end and feel silent. Almost as if he is looking at such a fate knocking and it might just be Death at the door. Ramsas' smile lightens ever so slightly as instead of a smile it is a smirk but it is still there.
As Birch passed the question over to Ramsas he shrugged as he said,
"My thoughts on the Royal Family? Well that is a strange question to ask but I suppose I do have some views, I truly don't mind what they do as I am unaware of their affects to me. But if I was to say from some of the stories that they seem like decent folk. As I look at this city around me that I visit nearly every year I find it doing well and fine, even my friends living here says that they do good by them so I can only assume that they are decent people".
He said this as he doesn't really live in this city and really visits for a week or so to see friends and leaves to adventure once more. Once he finishes he takes a kebab and takes a bite of the meat, it was pretty good, definitely not as good as Kartha's roasted boar he would be having at her place tonight, but definitely a delicious treat nonetheless.
He then asks Delilah the same question,
"So what are your thoughts on the Royal Family?" He asked as it was only fair and it would be nice to ask someone who lives her their point of view, why would he care? He doesn't he just wants her to get more comfortable with them as she seems like she is slightly tense while here.
Delyndra smiled at the mention of her father’s favorite story. When she was young, the king had often re-enacted the tale of his victory over the monster as a comedic farce for her entertainment, pressing the palace servants into various roles as he japed and capered. He had that way with people. Birch’s words gave her pause, and she hoped that the surprise did not show on her face. She regretted her condescending humor at the notion that this man was a ‘prince’ - clearly, he understood something of what it was to be a ruler.
And there was Ramsas, still looking at her with those soft eyes. She was not unused to being looked at, but there was something different about the way he was looking at her, not judgemental, but curious, wondering at her feelings, her actions. When he spoke, he said nothing that surprised her; her parents, as she was acutely aware, were well-liked.
“I… know little of them. I’m not very involved with this city. I’m from the, ah, countryside.” She took another bite of the kebab, a little more palatable than the first, and dabbed daintily at her mouth with her handkerchief.
“I find that the, ah… it’s best, when possible, to remove oneself from politics.”She swallowed sharply and turned to meet Ramsas’s gaze.
“Where are you from, musician?” she asked sharply, her face flat, her eyebrow raised. “Or were you content to keep staring at me?”Ramsas seems to have made her slightly upset with him looking at her, might be a fine way to slowly embarrass her into slowly let her guard down,
”I mean if I can stare at a beautiful face like your own I wouldn't mind for a few more moments”. As he leaned forward and places his chin in his left hand as he sets his elbow down and leans in and looks at her for another moment or so before he sits up straight again as he says,
”I hail from a town called Thrensvail, around a 5 month travel from this kingdom in a land called Thragon. Is that good enough for you, or would you like to know more about it?” As says with a slight lean back so he can slightly look her dead in the eyes and also so he could check her features as a face and words can lie, but eyes always tell the truth more than any other can.
Birch glanced back and forth between them. For some reason, the tension between the two had grown large. Ramsas stared at the scholar intensely and Delilah seemed quite nervous. Birch was mystified at what had happened and cleared his throat quietly.
"You know Ramsas here has helped out my clan in one or two dire situations. But I think his real talent is for music. How long have you been playing for Ramsas? It must be difficult to control all those instruments." His eyes flicked back and forth hoping the tension would relax between the pair. He tried searching for inspiration to fuel more friendly conversation. He realized he had a question that might help keep the conversation friendly.
"Do either of you know which race has white skin and horns?"Delyndra cocked her head and smiled at Ramsas, a serene expression that was completely lacking in warmth.
“Aha, the good bard flatters me,” she said.
“I am familiar with Thragon. I’m told it is lovely this time of year.” She held her gaze as Birch began to speak.
“Ah, I’m sure the people of Frostswallow were very glad to have you.” Her words were utterly without either kindness or malice - merely guarded probing, the most essential skill of the noblewoman. This man was more clever than he let on - if she were to find out how clever, some games would be necessary.
Birch, on the other hand, was exactly what he let on, which was both unsettling and refreshing to the princess. She furrowed her brow at his question, something of his earnestness leaking into her and leading her to show her thoughts on her face.
“Horns like what? Antlers, like a deer? I’m told some elven druids exhibit such things. Or do you mean white scales? Dragonborn then, most likely.”As Delilah answered in kind to his staring with a wonderful face of someone who knew what was going on, now it was social games. She knew quite a few things for a woman who looks so young, she seems to have a good bit of experience of hiding her emotions and intentions, quite clever. She commented on his home land and to him it is news to him that it looks nice this time of year, he hasn't been there since he turned of age.
Ramsas straightens himself and looks over from Delilah to Birch as the man asked him a question as Ramsas said, trying to remember how old he is,
”I have been playing instruments for around 20 years or so now. I think I started using my magic to do so for around 15 years, but I know I started making a habit out of making multiple instruments for around 10 years since my first time coming here for my first festival of destiny. But during that time I was searching for friends and doing performances. But since then I made it a ritual to come here every year to meet friends and every 5 years to celebrate with others such a wonderful and lovely event”. Ramsas says with some gestures as he gestured with his arm around his size and height at the time. And he started making small instruments float in his hand as he showed how many he could make at each time with the most is him right now with around 20 different instruments going all at once, and the least being when he first started doing this was one full instrument and a small bell. As he closes his hand and it turns to just orange bright dust then dissipates as he takes another sip from his drink.
As there is a moment of silence Ramsas senses that Birch doesn't really knows what's going on as Birch asks a question that seemed very out of the blue. Ramsas sits there for a moment as he thinks if he knows a race that has white skin. He assumed something along the lines of Alabaster white, but horns? Very hard, Ramsas has seen plenty of races but he couldn't quite know which one it could be, so Ramsas shrugs and concedes an,
"I don't know, I would need to know more, there are too many races I can think of that fits that description". As he looks towards the woman she isn't quite so scholarly type as he thought she was, she seems to have entered and dueled in social interactions before, he would need to pry her open slowly. A task that could take some time, but could prove to make quite an enjoyable time as those types of people can become the greatest of friends.
Things seemed to have calmed down with his two tablemates thanks to his quick intervention. He let out a small sigh and felt some of the muscles in his back relax in response. Inwardly, he wondered what had upset the pair of them. He hoped it was over now. Ramsas had been a friend to him and his village, but he had a debt to Delilah and was enjoying her company.
"I am not exactly sure I only got a quick look at the person and those were the main details I got. It didn't look like they had scales though. Just checking to see if anyone had any idea." He glanced wistfully at the bards hands where the last of the orange dust from his conjurations dissipated.
"You know when I was a child I dreamed that instead of a warrior like my father or my elder brothers, I would be a mage like from the skald's tales. Being able to cast my arms and fly through the sky or transform the mighiest orc warrior into a mouse. I actually managed to find a trader that knew a cantrip that was willing to teach me, but I couldn't ever get it to work. In contrast, it seems like magic is commonplace outside of the mountains. With the exception of the Mark, of course." He pointed to his own mark at the base of his throat surrounded by tattoos.
"What do you both think? Are the stories real or just skald's tales?"Ramsas places his hand onto Birch’s shoulder as he finds his friend saddened that he is unable to live out his dream as a mage and use magic. But Ramsas wouldn’t be able to just teach Birch even if he tried as it takes a mind who can create the perfect image in their mind and how it works just to work his magic. Yet that is how it is, the world is not fair enough to give everyone a fair chance, so there needs to be those who could give them chances. Sadly it would take time to just get Birch off and understanding how to use magic, something Ramsas has a difficulty understanding as his magic is strange on its own, but later he might find Birch and try and teach him to start. Ramsas says to his friend,
”Hey it’s fine. We aren’t all perfect, for you it might take more work to start up magic. It took me awhile just to get my magic work, even after many years of using it I still have much to learn and improve so much. If you set your mind to it you can do it, and hey you were the one who taught me how to properly to create medicine, something few can do and which still takes me awhile just to do right”. Ramsas says this to see if he can cheer his friend up in any small way right now. He has been saddened by his outburst earlier then, it seems like him using magic seemed to have him thinking about he can’t use magic, so Ramsas keeps this in mind when they are alone not to use magic.
When Birch asked what he thought about the marks Ramsas said with a chuckle,
”Well I think the marks was a magic placed on people by old wizards to get people to marry to people they would never meet.”. As Ramsas set his chin in his hand and leaned as he looked up to a corner and continues,
”I heard a story once, though. These marks are from millennia ago two lovers, 2 mages who came from warring nations. Each met on the battlefield and found the other extraordinary. May it be through cunning, looks, strength, or what have you they fell for the other and everytime they were on the battlefield they fought, not out of hate, but love. The love to see the person they love succeed, to watch them grow. They loved each other so much they wished to be together forever, to watch the other grow and become a better them, so they put a curse on each other. Every time they die they came back as the same person in a different body”.
Ramsas sighed as he continued,
”Yet through these times a witch watched as these two constantly came back over and over, never losing the other as they marked the other that would change when they knew. So she devised a plan the next time they died she would scatter them so they would never find each other and she wouldn’t have to be sad as she would never find someone to love her. Yet what she did was split them up into hundreds of pieces. Each piece falling across the world and reformed as a new person. Each person wished to find their soulmate, the exact piece that they were for. A heart wishing to find the heart it belongs to, a hand wishing to hold the hand it was meant to, and a soul wishing to become one with the soul it was destined for”. As Ramsas looks back down and looks at Delilah and slightly softened his smile as he says ,
”What say you do you believe in any of the stories?”He was doing this in hoping to see her blush as when he does this it has caught hundreds of people off guard. He wanted to open her up and also see how strong her defenses actually were. He needs to see what kind of state of mind she is in, could she be love struck like many others? It would make sense why she would be here, but Ramsas needed to start and find out.
Birch smiled over at the bard as Ramsas placed an arm on his shoulder to comfort him. The man was a skilled warrior, an exceptional bard, a powerful mage, but most importantly a wonderful friend to him.
“You are right, of course. It is like that old saying ‘There are always less orcs on the other front.’ Magic is probably far more interesting to me since my people as a whole seem to have such a limited amount of talent in its application. Anger problems seems to be the more common replacement, though I would hardly call it a ‘skill.’ As for the medicine, bah, you picked up the trick well enough and I am far less familiar with the plants around this beautiful city." Birch did feel lighter though, the friendship and understanding Ramsas had shown him lightening his load.
He listened with rapt attention to the tale Ramsas wove of love broken by the dark magicks of a jealous witch. Unconsciously, he touched the sun shaped mark at the base of his throat as Ramsas described. By the end of the tale, Birch cried loudly, not in sadness, but moved by the tale. He wiped away his tears on his bare arms and took several deep breaths to compose himself.
"So sad. Being split up like that." He shook himself trying to shake off his feelings.
“In the mountains, we have another story, but I think not nearly so interesting a tale.” Birch looked up at the sun’s position in the skies measuring how much time had passed.
Birch stood up, picking up the empty plates and his own mug and bringing them back to the kebab chef, who grunted in acknowledgement.
“Friends, I have much coin to earn before the day ends this evening, so I must be off. I hope that we can meet up again soon! Possibly at the show from the Royal Company playing tomorrow?”Ramsas looks out and sees that much of the larger commotions are gone as he sighs out as well as his friend talks of leaving,
”I myself need to find a few friends while I’m out so I must leave our lady here as well”. As he gestures towards her and says,
”I hope I can see you later on today or tomorrow at this play that is being held”. As he then looks back to Birch,
”To you my friend, if you need a place to stay because of your misfortunate circumstances I can lend my aid to you all you need to do is find me when you wish. If not, I’ll be seeing you tomorrow if not out in the city, but at the play myself. And with that I must bid a farewell”. As Ramsas begins to head out as he takes his hands together and begins to form his guitar as he begins to play and leave once more. Off to find some friends and merry adventure.
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