A Mountain Stroll

Log Info

• Title: A Mountain Stroll
• Emitter: Slixvah
• Characters: Slixvah, Patch, Verna, Robert
• Place: Mountain Road
• Time: July 15th, 2022
• Summary: Up on the mountain tops where a bird goes to trot. They run into Bob and Patch, with Verna to the side with a welcome catch. With Bob departing, the ladies get smarting, sharing each about their classroom thought-ings. Verna and Slix dabble in bad juju, but they assure Patch it's nothing with sinew. Verna's been chillin', hiding from villains, and offers an in to educational tendings. Wishing her good luck, bard and witch turn to the muck and trek back down the mountain in strut.

Mountain Road, Morning

A light rain drizzles from a grey sky, the waters helping quell the soaring temperatures. Up on the Mountain Road, so high up, there's a light breeze making the rain go back and forth, but it isn't anything egregious to buffet anyone off the road to a long fall below.

One figure is a regular sight at this time of day. An egalrin woman in ribbons, usually gliding down the road, is instead taking the mundane method of travel and walks down the road like a ground-stuck peon. Though, she's got one wing over a shoulder, and both arms are wrangling it in an attempt to stretch it out. Feathers a falling off in places. "C'mon you dang thing, why are you like this..." she blathers to herself.5R

Patch looks absolutely miserable in the rain, soaked and near half drowned as she carries an instrument case from up the mountain road. The case is cradled before her in both arms, marching to some unheard rhythm with each step. Blond hair is wild, and tangled from wind, the strands left to cling against her face and cheek. Her coat has began to take on water in the heavier seams, her duration in this weather taking it's toll. As she hears a familiar voice.

"You okay there?" Asks Patch, having noticed Slixvah. "We've met before, right? Slixvah?"

A great adamantine golem ascends through the heights of the mountain road, plodding and inevitable. Only it's not a golem; it's Bob! And the middle-aged Cerenzan's struggling advance is less 'inevitable' and more 'if I don't keep leaning forward and pushing ahead, I'll fall over backwards and turn into some threatening ball what threatens archaeologists.'

Bigger than an oruch, the titan armor-swaddled artificer relents and moves to one side of the road, propping one gauntlet on a poleyn. The armor hand hand raises up to wave the pedestrians behind him ahead. There's a click and a hiss before the domed helmet pops up and back so he can suck in a greedy lungful of air unobstructed.

The drizzling rain is nice, too.

Bob raises a massive fist to wave hello to Slixvah. He tries a spoken greeting, too, but finds himself too busy catching his breath at the moment.

Slixvah slows her roll, her looking up from her grumbling to spy. She perks up, eyes crinkling in what would be a smile. "Eyyy, Patch. Ding ding! Ya right. Das me!" she chirps. "Can't keep the guessing game up with ya tho, sadly. What'cha doin' up here?" she inquires, running an arm over a wing to shove water off the feathers.

And then there's the hissing. And thudding. And waving. "Eyyy Robby Bobby! You need some water, sugar? Goin' up this thing is hell on the knees."

Patch is suddenly smiles despite her previous face of dour unpleasantness. "Conditioning!" the bard answers with a rolling giggle afterward as her attention is drawn to Robert. "What is with this getup? I was told you could make a good weapon, but I didn't realize you were so heavily endowed...... with armor." the last bit tacked on with a coy flair. "Sorry, sorry." her apology following as she laughs.

The rain may not be wholly pleasant, but at least it is some respite from the summer heat? One person on the road is dry enough... if due to her location being not upon the road, proper. Between the air station and dark basalt temple, a modest stone cottage sits. It stands upon the westward side of the road, built out over the drop to the temple and scholar districts far below and supported by stone buttresses into the Redridge.

The portico of the cottage is upon what would be the shoulder of the roadway, and beneath this Verna sits sheltered from the precipitation. A few mana lamps provide light at any hour; all the better to enjoy some reading and/or observe the passersby along the mountain road. Today she may perform a combination, as a book is present, yet rests upon the lap of her canary-yellow sundress.

"'ve... got some," Bob nods, giving a thumbs-up. His following exhale is a little heavier when he grins and shakes his head at Patch. "Get acclimated... and the...n..." He takes a moment for another breath. "-- build more in."

The 'fists clatter around his hips and the hanging pack there as he straightens up. His face lifts up towards the sky and he blows out a long, slow breath through pressed lips.

Not feeling fit to pass out, Bob takes a look up and down the road before crossing closer to Patch and Slixvah, activating the suit on the way. Gold pulses through the etchings of a deva's feather and out along fine, almost-invisible metal threadings forged throughout the powder-black plate. Healthy color flushes back into the Cerenzan's drained features. Little pops, fzzts, and sparks issue when the energies meet raindrops.

Slixvah snorts. "Hell of a way for conditioning. Most folks don't wanna deal wit' all the huffin' and puffin' to get up here."

Again, she can't help but laugh from Patch's joke, and she shakes her head. "Yo. Lookin' good. Haven't seen ya in a hot minute, how ya doin'?" she inquires, having stopped in front of the cottage to chat. Which... brings her attention to said cottage. And to said person sitting on the porch. She squints.

And points. "Ey, you're the person who fixed my pinkie toe!"

Patch twitches an ear as she looks between Robert and Slixvah. "I really shouldn't poke fun at those working as hard as he, but I could witness that a couple of times more and still find it funny." her mirth waning, but the activation of armor earning surprise and a smirk.

"It's no trouble to use my feet. The rain may try to make you believe different, but I only slipped once." Patch says offhandedly to Slixvah, the bird-folk's other words to Verna cause her to take notice of that yellow dress the woman wears. "She have a name? I need to ask her a question." attention suddenly directed and fixated.

Verna may have only recently set her reading down, or perhaps did not wish to suddenly interrupt passing conversations. Now that Slixvah addresses her, however, she offers the egalrin a slender smile. "Indeed. I presume that you have not collided further with the mountain as of late? I recommend against such in the interests of prosperous long life." A hand gestures to the temple shortly down the road. "Admittedly, if you did so, funerary arrangements are located nearby; a convenience."

Her attention subsequently turns towards Patch at the call. One brow lifts slightly. "We both hold names..." Verna is momentarily uncertain to which of them Patch refers, until recollection of words past (upon which she was not previously focused) clarify that Patch had just addressed Slixvah. By process of elimnation, then, "My name is Verna. Sage and Mourner, though titles are not so relevant at present."

Bob was ready to exchange greetings when something catches in his brain and he smiles, pushes his brows together, and turns to regard Slixvah with that look of amalgamated amusement and curiosity. "... you have pinky toes, miss Slix?" He looks down at the woman's footwear and blinks.

"Does... IC..?" How his this never come up? The Cerenzan needs a moment to scour a lifetime of memories.

Slixvah chuckles. "Don' worry hon, I slip all tha time. Ain't no dirt for my feetsies to grab onto, its all cobble and stone." She lifts a taloned foot and grab-grabs the air with it. "Tho I usually glide the way back down. Except today. Dang wings actin' up."

She turns some, the multi-colored ribbons across her wings swishing from the motion. Slix holds up a finger. "I have not crashed since then!" she elucidates. "But if I do so and perish, I request that I be launched out of a catapult from top of a mountain into a pyre! Ensure I do a flip!"

To Bob, she raises her foot once more. It's bare, and taloned like any other birds, three talons on front and one in back. She waggles them talons and points. "See! Pinky, middle, pointer and thumb!"

Patch uhs, as she looks from Verna to Slixvah, finally nodding her head. "You are correct. Astute, and very well articulated, Mourner-Sage Verna. I am glad the tiles aren't as important as they used to be, my knowledge of your sect, and religion isn't a subject I know well. Sorry for both impositions." a warm tone floated on her words. "I just wanted you to know I like your dress. It's very quaint.

Robert's mention of toes has the bard smirk, but Slixvah's talk of her feet causes a scoff and short laugh. "I'd never of guessed. I'd of assumed claw, or something like it. Of course they're toes!" as if it wasn't obvious until now.

His nod and another grin answers Slixvah's explanation. "Of course," Bob agrees with a quiet laugh. "Most of what I know about egalrin I've learned from IC... and he was a bit too old for piggies and markets when we first met," the Cerenzan adds.

"I need to look in on a young man that made some bad choices," he tells the familiar woman as he offers another wave. "Don't get into too much trouble, miss Slix." He pivots and clanks a fist into his breastplate, offering a "ladies" before he continues along the road and up the stairs into the Harpist's halls.

Slix's foot hits the ground with a little >clack< from the talons as she snorts to Robert. "Lotta stuff is different between aeries," the eglarin tells the human. "And he knows some stuff but not everything, ya feel?"

She pulls an eyelid down and sticks her tongue out at him. "No promises, Robby Bobby!"

She gives a little chuckling laugh, and turns back to the other two as she rifles around in her many robes to pull out- how does she keep a whole parasol in there? Whirr-pop! Woosh. It's opened, and she shields herself and Patch from the drizzle. "Yeah, it's a cute one. Wish I could wear somethin' like that, but ya know." The wings on her back shake some to announce their existence. "I'll stick wit' robes with slits cut in 'em for now. And ribbons. Can't forget those~!"

Verna blinks at the compliment as if it were utterly unexpected. This causes her to require a moment to respond, which is further delayed with a gesture of farewell granted to Robert. "Thank you," she finally offers to Patch. "It is different from my typical attire, though I admit it is quite comfortable." After the parasol opens, she belatedly recalls her manners and gestures toward herself, the portico, and the chairs within. "You are welcome to stand or sit out of the rain."

"Strapless?" Pouch suggests to Slixvah, ducking under the cover offered from the rain, and smiling as Verna offers seats and further protections. "It's adorable. You look great, and I would not of known otherwise." the compliment continued with a smirk, her instrument case adjusted, held by the handle, and lowered to her side. "I couldn't fit such things in my travel bag."

To Slizvah, Patch motions towards Verna. "Shall we?"

Slix cocks her head to and fro. "Could do that, yeah. Have ta get it custom made tho'. These bad boys take up a lot of back real estate," she mentions, jabbing a thumb over her shoulder. "Yeah, let's."

The bird slides in, putting her parasol away and waggles a white gloved hand to get rid of the water her robes and feathers had been collecting. It all drops away, as if she was suddenly hydrophobic. The same hand is offered to Patch. "Want dry?" she asks.

"Thanks, Verna," she hums, properly under the cover of the portico. "Hope you been good since I last crashed in front of ya place. Fix any more toes?"

Verna shakes her head. "You are most welcome and no, no toes. I have performed minimal healing as of late. I am, for all purposes, on vacation."

Patch says, “Yes, absolutely!" Pouch's answer almost immediate after the offer from Slix is asked, having crossed towards where Verna rests. That display of self-drying clothes and magic was watched with rapt attention, and she's still 'on' about that subject. "I would be ever grateful, Thank you."

For Verna, Pouch nods. "I'm Patch. It's a pleasure, Mourner Verner." finally introducing herself.”

A couple wiggles of the fingies, and little shimmer, and the water sloughs off Patch like it had better places to be. "There ya go, March!" she coos.

She crosses her arms and leans against the side of the front porch. "Well that's good, vacations are important! Seems like ya enjoyin' yourself up here in ya stone loft. Can't help but mention I'm a little jelous tho'. I'd love to wake up here and just jump off every mornin'. Instead I gotta /walk/ up ta do that."

Verna dips her head to Patch at the introduction. "A pleasure, indeed, Patch." At Slixvah's comment, a smile grows anew on the half-mul's lips as a hand gestures behind her. "The balcony is most suitable for such, as only open air lies below it. I have utilized that fact for rapid transit to the Society grounds, on occassion. You would, of course, be far more adept at such than I. You would fly or glide, while I merely fall slowly."

Patch looks between the two others as they discuss flight and floating. It's to Slixvah she speak's first. "Is this why you were stretching wing? Can you not fly yet?" the bard's words curious, but low as she tries not to speak of such things loudly. Looking to her now dry coat, touches it with a free hand, smiling, and then using that hand to brush hair from her face. "What is that? What is the little device do you use?" curious now, as she motions to the glove.

Verna then gets a glance, Pouch nodding to something in her words. "That makes sense. I am a student of the Bardic and Arcane colleges." yes, both. "So, vacation? Do you work for the Arcane Society?"

Slixvah (somehow, despite lacking the features to do so) pouts. "Wish I could fly. Damn wings been hurtin' so much I can't even glide 'round like usual." Though, she can't help but snicker. "Though, crashing through the roof to attend a class at the Society sounds absolutely hilarious. Then I'd get promptly tossed out, like usual."

Her attention shifts over to Patch. She perks up some, holding up a finger to assist in elucidating. "Like I said, wings been sore as heck. But! Most Elagrin can't actually fly! They glide. /However/, there's a moment in a birdie bird's life they get to actually take to the skies. Wings grow strong enough to take off! Sometimes it happens early on, sometimes it's later in the centuries. Sometimes never. It's marvelous when it happens."

Then she pouts once more. "And I can't go soaring 'cause I think I've been overdoing it..." she grumbles before shaking her head. "Ah, m'bad. These things? Just lil' gloves t'cheat on the test," she mentions, waggling her white gloved hands. "Some spells I couldn't ever do, these can. Helps a ton."

"As a Sage and ranking member, I instruct at the Arcane Society with some regularity," Verna notes, "thus I would not suggest falling through the roof to attend class..." A brief eyeing of Slixvah with the point, though it is not overly harsh. "That said, there is nothing remiss in utilitizing enchanted items as aids. Again, however, I recommend such not be utilized for training tasks. They defeat the purpose."

Patch can't help but snort and laugh at Verna, nudging at Slixvah with an elbow at it. "Did you hear that, Slix? She says I let you ruin my training by taking your help?" putting both words, and play into Verna's mouth. "Well, she may be right. I wouldn't of had such a thing on my own. Convenient, but..... point taken. An instructor she truly is." waving a hand before herself, changing tangents and topic. "So, where did you get this dress?" back on about those canary-yellows. "Was it in town?"

Slixvah can't help but belly laugh at that. "Yes, I'd be terrible for training: I cheat and do shortcuts."

She peters her snickering out, shaking her head and smoothing her crown feathers back. "Mayhaps you can get me in a class or three then? I promise I'll be a good noodle and sit in the back quietly."

Verna addresses Patch, first. She smoothes her dress slightly as she looks to it. "Yes. A friend is an most excellent tailor. This, as you noted, is ... quaint; far too simple to reflect her talents, but the need was somewhat urgent." She looks back up with pursed lips. "I was unprepared for time away from duties of the Society and Temple, insofar as attire was concerned and had naught to wear otherwise."

She then looks between them. "If either, or both of you are interested," she pauses for half-beat "-genuinely- interested in furthering yourselves and others by joining the Arcanist Society, I could certainly assist."

The talk of the Arcanist Society causes the bard to sober from her mirth. "I would, Mourner Verna... and still might. However, there is not much the Arcane Society can do in pursuit of my personal questions." honest with a small smile making it back to her lips. "The hymn is a mysterious thing, and I don't know if my pursuit of it's knowledge, and existence would prove to be popular." shrugging as she looks back to Slixvah, another nudge. "What of you? Interest in the ways of arcane magic?"

The last bit of words come quickly, a half-whisper cast to Verna about her dress. "Was it Lady Sandiel whom made it?" the bard taking a wild guess.

Slixvah's head quirks to the side. "Oh? Real talk?" she chirps, her dropping her whimsical attitude to a more subdued level. She gets a nudge, her glancing over with a light crinkling of the eyes in a smile. "I'm interested in the arcane fo' sho', sugar. It's just, well. Me? I'm kinda like your Hymn, most wizards tend to not enjoy other methodologies of tapping into the Sea of Mana."

She looks to Verna. "Are you most wizards?"

Verna ahs softly and nods. Acknowledgement and possibly understanding. "I understand. No, I would not consider myself as most wizards. I pursue knowledge of mana and magic in many myriad of its forms of access and tradition. I am also a Mourner of The Grey Harpist, for example. Well, too, have I studied matters of Artifice, albeit primarily at its fundamental and conceptual level. Whether one inherited a mana-rich ancestry, listens for the Hymn, whispers to the winds, studies from tomes, or aligns with a deity... all tap into the same Sea of Mana; only their choice of cup differs."

Verna shakes her head. "No, it is not from Lady Sandriel's shop."

"Well, your friend has great taste." Pouch says quickly of the dress, looking then between to two with a thoughtful tone used towards Verna. "Well, some of the way you say things does inspire one to follow your example and footsteps, Mourner Verna. If more were like you, the choice would be far easier." looking then to the Egalrin. "Any scholarly pursuits you like?"

Slixvah appraises Verna for a beat or two before she perks up and relaxes her shoulders. "Good, good. Was afraid I was going to have a little tussle over here over the validity of witchcraft," she jokes, snickering. "You put postings up when ya teach at the Society? I wanna sit on a couple of classes before join the place. They haven't, ah, respected me, to put it lightly."

With the question directed towards Slixvah, her eyes crinkle in a smile and she folds her hands together. "Oh! Lovely question, I love readin' 'bout the arcane. All 'bout them complicated matricies and power confluxes and the underlying theory of expoential sphere manipulation. All of it, really," she blabbers in nerd. "Also like cultures. I do a lot of wanderin'. Mountains to the north, a bit of Rune, outskirts of here..." she rolls a hand. "People make it fun. What about you?"

Slixvah has partially disconnected.

Verna smiles at the compliment of the dress, easier now that it is in reference to the creator. "She does, indeed." The expression returns to a thin line at Slixvah's concerns and she nods once more. "There is bias to be found in any community, alas; the magical, or even more specifically, magi as a whole, is no different. My specialty is Necromancy, thus I am no stranger to preconceived notions, distates, or bigotry."

Then her smile returns. "Both Auranar and I are avid readers and researchers. We may need to expand our home before long, if merely to accomodate our library. I am ever a proponent for, and student of, knowledge. That includes its dissemination to others. I would be delighted to inform of any classes I hold, though they may not be for some time."

Patch nods slowly at Slixvah, and that answer. "I to read about theory and....well, not the necromancy part." Suddenly reacting to Verna's words in shock, that bit of information seeming to sink in deeper than the rest of the conversation. "No one else like the simple things anymore? History? Art?" suddenly laughing. "This is why the wizards and witches always leave out the bard!"

Slixvah's feathered brows raise to Verna. "Oh? Ey, me too. I know a little bi' o' that. So much other useful stuff ya can do aside from making nasties. Glad ya ain't got a stick up in places."

She looks to Patch, her offering a guilty shrug. "Look, March. Sometimes ya gotta get ya hands dirty. But! I like that stuff! I got outta a show the other day when I first met ya!" she defends. "And food, and clothes.."

Slixvah gives a light sigh. "Ah, drat. Right. You're on vaycay. Oh well, I've got time!"

Verna holds up a hand to assuage patch. "To clarify, such is my magical specialty. I enjoy history, art, cultures, cooking, and am attempting to learn what I can of gardening. Whether I can put the last to any practical use..." She rolls a shoulder uncertainly.

She then waves away Slixvah's apology. "It is more a ... functional respite. One part recovery, and another part to avoid bringing risk to others. I am a person of interest to an unpleasant group that has already accosted myself, or others to influence me, twice in my own temple."

Patch offers a nod, her amusement seeming to ebb. "I concede. I was a bit shocked at the specialty mentioned. I'd like to hear more some time, but.... that was just neat to know." she muses and looks down the path from where they rest from the rain. "Do you rest on your functional respite?"

Slixvah ahs. "Forced vaycay. Lame. Sorry ta hear that, shug. At least now I hope you're able to be lax now?" she offers in addendum to Patch with an uneasy smile? "Maybe grow some cool lookin' plants?"

She joins in eyeing the road along with Patch. "Got another other places ta go?" she hums.

Patch shakes her head, but her glance is still fixated back down that road. "No, I was just estimating how long the walk to the dorms is." her mind on other matters seemingly. "Necromancy is something I never bothered to learn much about." she says flatly. "I don't dislike you for studying it, but the people I find now who do.... are not what I expected?" the bard's admission coming with a soft smile as she looks back towards the two. "You can't keep the old thoughts that you discover are wrong, right? You have to take a few moments, and look at them, and then kick them right out of your head." the bard rambling again.

Slixvah shifts her gaze from the path downward over towards Patch. "It's worth learning just ta know how to deal with it when it pops up. I don't specialize in it, but I kno' a bit ta get by."

Her eyes squint in a cheeky smile. "Lotta stuff you won't expect from me. Good on ya ta see bad thoughts. Most folk don't bother tossin' 'em away."

The elagrin turns to Verna. "Pleasure ta see ya again, we'll leave ya to ya books so you can chill properly."

The fortune teller steps out, and the mechanical parasol she has opens with another >whrrr-pop!<. The egalrin gestures out towards the road. "The walk will be shorter with so' company, March."

She twirls the parasol.

-End Scene-