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To Sail Amid The Seas Of Fate - Jorimel's Eldar Rp

Discussion in 'Role Playing' started by Jorimel, Jan 31, 2015.

  1. Jorimel Jorimel Well-Known Member

    Nyshalla's face fell when the Fire Dragon mentioned the Commorrites. She grasped the edge of her seat with one hand, as if to give the tension within her somewhere to concentrate its fell energies.

    "They defile what it is to be Eldar," she said, her jaw tight. "I am glad that you escaped, for few ever do and I would like nothing more than to see their ways ended. They sit in the webway like a hideous cancer, a knot of perversion and gleeful sin that distorts the very fabric of un-space with its vile concatenation of our gods-given potential with all the failings of the Fall. They will not learn. And that choice of ignorance is the worst one that any Eldar could have made." She calmed herself, taking a visible while to settle her humours. "I speak of after the lessons, of course. Before that - well, before that, some of those old, rotten husks probably participated and for that - to imagine seeing what they saw, and never once understanding - no, admitting! - of what they did! It sickens me."

    Nyshalla took a breath, aware that she had probably soured the mood.

    "Forgive me, karanye. I would far rather dwell upon your heroism and the nobility of what you did. I celebrate it. And to strike down a Herald of the Changing One - well, now that is a feat indeed." She paused. "You say that one of the Humans aided you? That is a tale I would know more of. How did such an alliance come to pass?" She remembered Kithaere, sitting in silence to one side of the animated discussion. "I do not mean to leave you out, ma'am. Though ..." she paused. "I am not sure I wish to be judged by one who does not intend to participate. Let us abandon our contest. I confess freely that I have no such heroic tale to spin. And I have my reasons for wishing to know more of yours, Amrielka," she said, tilting her head as she looked at Amriel once more. The familiar term came easily to her.

    "I have fought alongside the Humans on two occasions. Once was a kind of accident - we found ourselves sheltering, as it were, behind the same barricades. As for the other - I met a strange and shadowed man once. A true enigma. He was large, as the biggest Human warriors are known to be, as tall as an Eldar but built more like an Ork. Usually such armoured outhouses are ponderous with their bulk, but he was - stealthy. And his armour was a curious shade of black, dull like velvet. Light seemed not to reflect from it. We killed together. We were facing the troops of the Great Enemy and there were, he said, but five of his own brethren there including himself. Better, surely, that we both killed the enemy and not each other? I saw the wisdom of it. My sergeant, too. In the confusion of the melee, we were separated and I fell in with the Human in black. We fought our way clear of a score of the foe, back to back. It is to my sorrow that I did not learn his name. He fought with honour."

    "And he left the field alive, do not query that. We Corsairs may be mercurial, but we have our own ways. He left me with questions, that is also certain."

    "They may be allies of convenience, these so-called mon-keigh, but can we ever forge a more lasting peace? Or are they truly "that which must be destroyed"?"

    @MetalDog4 @Casavay
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  2. Jorimel Jorimel Well-Known Member

    Avrielle walked happily arm in arm with Yareli as they chatted. Morvan was not forgotten as she did so. Llyr hopped down and trotted alongside the little band, and the four moved swiftly on to their destination.

    "Of course I talk like a Corsair, Seer. I am from Lugganath," Avrielle beamed. She bowed her head in acknowledgement at his compliment. "I am just happy that I do not disappoint you - I feared that you might think me too frivolous for having so many interests. I am creative, but I cleave to the Path." She nodded, still happy. The sometimes grim demeanour of an Iybraesilite did not seem to bring anyone down - not even Morvan himself.

    "I daresay it isn't truly a real date," Avrielle said, carrying on. "Yareli would never just agree to such a thing with a man she just met, and of course, the crew," she lowered her voice, "thinks that she is to wed their Captain." Though if this was the case, what was the bold Vytharion doing? Perhaps the news had not fully percolated yet.

    "... Much more I would believe a certain adorable ball of white fur was the reason for change." Her left eye winked at Llyr the fearless gyrinx as Yareli suggested that Morvan's agents of change lay elsewhere than in her well-manicured hands. The little gyrinx puffed out his chest, radiating confidence and happy self-assurance as he strode along.

    This bar, if it could be called such, was a more civilised place. The central point was a bar true, and a pillar of flame was skillfully utilised in cooking by the two Eldar who tended there, each a flamboyant example of the typical Corsair one might see in tales - and with knife skills to match their ability to pour a fiery cocktail. There were Eldar seated and standing on the lower part of this hall, and around the wall at half height was another tier, where others sat or lounged at their ease, people-watching, talking, drinking.

    From his higher vantage point, Faenkon could see Yareli, Avrielle and Morvan enter, accompanied by Llyr. He didn't think that he had been spotted. But he could see his companions. Such are the ways of the Wandering Path.

    Avrielle walked up to the bar and waited for the others to join her. She exchanged words with the tall Eldar male guarding the flame, and he smiled down at her.

    "Where are we meeting your friends, Yareli?" Avrielle asked, looking around.

    Vytharion was seated at a table not too far away, another of the Corsairs by his side. There were a number of fine, fluted glasses on the table in front of them, and a bottle of wine that - to judge by its patina and ancient style - must be very fine indeed. The Corsair waved, smiling, the gesture tinted with the second degree of polite expectation.

    @Uriel1339 @High_Adept_Zeth @kanila

    Thank you *bows* - it is one of my favourite words. And I marvel at the facility with which you deploy your own, as you know :) ]
  3. kanila kanila Subordinate

    "Well the Craftworlds are definitely more 'by the numbers' than a corsair fleet, but some are more relaxed than others. Could be part of the reason I'm a Ranger, more freedom of movement." He enjoyed his drink and the hot food before continuing. "But if we find the sword, it truly isn't my place to say who should wield it. The fact that I am even allowed to be part of the search is amazing enough. I just hope it doesn't boiling down to infighting like so many of the lesser races are prone to."
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  4. Jorimel Jorimel Well-Known Member

    Orthelya nodded. "It's often said that the Rangers travel for the love of freedom. I think we're alike in that. But one thing I've learned is that I should never attribute people's motives for them." She smiled, downing the last of her drink and reaching for another delicious fragment of just slightly charred bird meat. "They outdid themselves today."

    "I hope you're right about the sword. I must admit, I thought that if the Seer Council sought such a blade, they'd likely have a candidate or two, or maybe they plan to give it to the Phoenix Lords? I don't know - but I enjoy speculation. It's a vice of mine," she grinned.

    "And I suppose it's the flipside of the creative mind. I can never quite sit still on anything."

    She paused, looking at Faenkon for a moment.

    "You may have been chosen," she said, softly. "You might be here because all the threads of the Seer Council lead to you. Not to wield the sword, perhaps, but to find it."

    "Have you thought of that, Faenkon?"

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  5. Jorimel Jorimel Well-Known Member

    Throughout the Arcadia's wide halls and secret byways, the chambers of instruction and private quarters, a slight shiver moved through the wraithbone. Walls that touched the core gave the faintest of vibrations. Further from the heart, they showed the slightest blush of darker colour, and the hull shimmered like the hide of a deep sea creature, cloud pattern passing back from the nose.

    Sure hands and swift minds guided the Arcadia through the webway to the next nexus, and Void Dreamer Reevia consulted her runes.

    "Damnit, Iktomi ..."
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  6. kanila kanila Subordinate

    He shrugged, "That's always a possibility, but time will tell if you are right or wrong." He ate another piece of the delicious food. "Besides everyone is the hero of their own story, but not always do they get the chance or opportunity to be the hero in someone elses! And as I said earlier whispers of my name are better than out right glory in my opinion!" He chuckled at the thought of him being the main factor in finding the fabled sword. "But if I am to be the hero in all of this you will do a proper portrait for me right?"
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  7. Nurianis Nurianis Subordinate

    As the grinning Corsair glanced at Irlityra she nodded encouragingly at him, his gestures were not what she had expected his response to be but that, she thought, was the interesting part of meeting new people, their different and interesting perspectives.

    She rearranged the pots and bowls again. This time she made three runes, one at a time. The order was precise and after Juri had clearly seen each rune, she changed the positioning of the items being used to make the runes. The smooth motions of the change were clearly being used to signify that the three runes were to be thought of as linked, rather than as three separate entities but she made no real attempt to link the three runes to the Craftworld-rune she had just used.

    First she placed the tea set into the Rune of the Corsair. As the rune was being constructed, Irlityra’s body language changed slightly to one of hesitation and a small amount of fear. The change in her demeanour would only be noticed by the most observant of Eldar, for it was subconscious and unintentional. As the final parts of the rune were placed, Irlityra brought her hand up from the table in a small 90 degree arc around the room, it was gesturing to the ship but it noticeably slowed as it passed over Juri to hint towards the message being more specific in nature than general.

    As soon the arc had finished, her hand returned to the table in one smooth motion, and she rearranged, with much more confidence, the tea set into the Rune of the Seer. Her actions showed this to be a rune she was familiar with, creating it was as natural as breathing to her and her every movement was delicate. A series of small flourishes highlighted how the rune was constructed, ‘the Trinity that Guides’ was formed first as a solid an unyielding line before it was interrupted by the rays of the mystical eye being made so as to start from the outside and move inwards rather than the usual contrary direction and with a final, purposeful placement ‘the Mystic Eye’ appeared as if by magic, but actually by sleight of hand, in the middle of the Rune. It gazed unblinkingly up into the arched ceiling where the gods resided, as if staring into the very souls of those who gazed uncaringly down upon it.

    Satisfied that Juri had seen this rune she moved onto making the final rune, that of the Spiritseers with its strong associations with Ynnead, the god of the elder dead. Due to the rune being made of cups and saucers it could not be made into clean lines and precise drawings, but the positions of the items was such that there was a very noticeable absence of items down the middle, creating two distinct halves of the Rune despite it not normally being created that way. Nothing interrupted this noticeable space between the two sides except for the mystical eye in the centre that had not been moved from its unblinking position it had held and it kept this rune together with a force of will that was unyielding. Amongst the Spiritseers of Lugganath this was a clear sign that the rune was signifying the careful balance they had to treat between two very different worlds rather than the more obvious symbolism of the Seers of Ynnead, but Irlityra was unsure if Juri would understand that particular flourish or not.

    With a final glance to Juri she spoke softly to him ‘Explain, in your thoughts with the powers your mind has, how this Rune,’ She gestured to the Rune of the Spiritseers ‘is related to the Haven of the Spaceways?’ She was hoping for him to show her how talented he was with mind-speech, but understanding him was a useful extra. Most Eldar knew how to speak to others using only their minds, but she wanted to see how skilled Juri was. The skill of mind-speech was a useful building block to begin with for a Seer.

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  8. Amriel shook his head at her words, an indication that they were only partially correct, though the balling of his fist suggested he felt very strongly about the Comorrites, a burning hatred for the dark ones after what he had endured, trials and tribulations that had left scars both physical and mental that would never heal. In fact they had told him ahead of time that would be the case, that such scars once inflicted were always there, a reminder of his time. He had spent days seeking to burn them away in the cleansing fires of a forge of Vaul. But such things were not pertinent to the story.

    "It was not one human, Nyshalla, but a large team of them. Several were how you described, large as an ork but far more graceful. The others looked to be normal, but battle-hardened, veteran of as many fights in their short lives as I, and just as courageous. We made a pact during our time that such things as are two peoples had done to one another, here was a chance to work together, for the enemies of the galaxy tremble when Man and Eldar stand together. I had previously held nothing but contempt for them before, but they went through the same trials as I, and had endured them too, and fighting side by side makes all brothers, regardless of race. They saved my life and I theirs, and though one day we may meet on the field of battle as foes, I will always be grateful for what they did."
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  9. Kaptin Primorkagorka DaKaptin Well-Known Member

    OOC: fixed that. Sorry

    Proceeding with caution, The Felarch began to poke and nudge anything that crossed his path. Confident in his abilities to out maneuver the everyday micro trap. Reaching for his clothes, Iktomi suddenly stops mid reach. 'No. They'll be expecting.' Turning on the spot to change his boots first instead.
    Nothing inside the boots, no gravity well for them to stick to his feet. 'Almost there.' He thought, dropping his guard only slightly on the chance that all the furniture had been moved because they had actually cleaned his room. 'Wouldn't that be an interesting thanks for setting them adrift. Thought, it wasn't like they died. That would have defeated the whole purpose. Maybe someday I'll have the heart to tell them... Naw, everyone should be focused and direct all their hate on a single individual than at each others throats. At leasts it has worked so far.'
    Taking a seat on the bed, after a few prods with his Void Saber scabbard, he began to undress and prepare for the feast and promised drink. 'Now where did I put that bottle? I know it's here somewhere... Did I leave it in the kitchen again?' Iktomi thought, scrabbling to his hiding spot under his modest collection of trinkets and souvenirs. Opening a compartment to reveal a hidden bottle of ruby amber liquid.
    'I hope this doesn't go bad... It's only been 200 cycles. Wouldn't be called Dragon's Blood if spoiled. Now what to ware?'
  10. Jorimel Jorimel Well-Known Member

    Orthelya paused and finished her drink, pouring herself another glass as she contemplated.

    "I most certainly will. It would be a pleasure. It's not that I have no models to work from here, but have you ever tried getting a Corsair to stay still? No, I need to work with someone more used to stealth and the need to be motionless." She sipped.

    "Although. I think that I would like to make a portrait of you and your companions, a record of the mission you embark upon. It would be fitting. And a good test of my skills. Maybe we could somehow ..."

    She paused. "I understand that one of you is engaged to marry my Captain? Do you think she could persuade him to sit for a portrait? You wouldn't believe the trouble I've had getting Iktomi anywhere near a canvas. Who would think it? Yet it's almost as if he believes it will somehow steal his soul ..."

    Across the bar, Llyr padded forward, confidence in his fuzzy frame as he found a path between the boots of the many assembled Corsairs. He was not intending to wait on ceremony further. If the Eldar he was guarding wanted to meet with the other Eldar he could see waiting at the table just over there, then perhaps they needed a little nudge from a feline ambassador. Eldar were smart, but they could still be remarkably shy creatures about what they wanted. His tail curled slightly like a question mark as he purred in greeting. Adorably wide ice-blue eyes looked up at the waiting Pirates.

    (resistance is futile)

    At the table it was clearly a match to see who would crack first. Which Corsair was too tough to be moved by such a display of frank cuteness? A test indeed. Vytharion was the first to break, but not by much. He reached down and tickled Llyr on the back of his furry head while his companion offered the little feline a small piece of grilled birdmeat. It might be that the prospect of an evening with a delightful companion, or even of annoying one's Captain, was temporarily forgotten.

    Faenkon's drone picked up a familiar trace from a known contact. Followed by several more - friendly, friendly, friendly. There were, of course, a multitude of potentially hostile targets in the immediate environment, but nothing confirmed. In any case it was a reconnaissance drone, not a soldier. But forewarned is forearmed.

    @kanila @Uriel1339

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