Shiny Hunt

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Revision as of 02:22, 25 September 2024 by Aftershock (talk | contribs) (Created page with "Quelynos. The man all know as Alud'rigan, the Feathered One, is standing outside with a watering can as he finishes up tending to his garden. His woods are eternally awash in the warm hues of fall, the crisp of autumn in the air, but Grandfather--as many here know him as--is still growing plants year-round. "Well then!" he says happily to the adventurers who had joined him for a small meal of sandwiches and tea--Alud'rigan never hosts anyone, even someone doing a job fo...")
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Quelynos.

The man all know as Alud'rigan, the Feathered One, is standing outside with a watering can as he finishes up tending to his garden. His woods are eternally awash in the warm hues of fall, the crisp of autumn in the air, but Grandfather--as many here know him as--is still growing plants year-round. "Well then!" he says happily to the adventurers who had joined him for a small meal of sandwiches and tea--Alud'rigan never hosts anyone, even someone doing a job for him, without feeding and watering them (like they, too, are plants). "Let's take a walk into the woods, shall we?"

And he does. It's a good thing that he's there, because his woods are somewhat dark. It's a bit hard to keep track of where's north and where's south. But eventually he leads everyone onto a path that only Auranar of the group has seen before. It takes them to a clearing, where there's trees with the bark hollowed out in spots to create a fine little burrow for those strange owl-raven hybrids of Alud'rigan's. "The flock comes here to build nests and lay their eggs," Alud'rigan explains. "Every year... There's a slight chance a bird with particularly shiny and golden feathers is born. The poor dear usually never makes it out of the nest, however. They're typically preyed upon by predators who come to assault the nests as they're hatching. I have decided, this year, I would like to find the golden babe and raise it in the safety of my home... But we need to find it first."

Alud'rigan narrows his eyes at the skies. "There may be hawks who come, as I believe they're about to--"

There's the gentle sound of an egg beginning to crack from a nearby tree, and Alud'rigan smiles. "There they are. Help me find the golden one!"

GAME: Aryia rolls perception: (12)+36: 48
GAME: Rune rolls perception: (1)+36: 37 (EPIC FAIL)

Auranar is glad to have an excuse to visit Grandfather and help him out a bit. She complements his tea and sandwiches with glowing words and when they head out to the woods toward where the baby birds are hatched, she can't help the extra pep in her step. She loves seeing the baby birds.

Rather than rushing to help find the baby bird though, she draws her bow and an arrow and motions for Grandfather to look for the little golden bird that he wants to protect. "I'll defend the tree from hawks and anything else trying to sneak in. You find the baby!"

She's sure that she won't be alone in the defense, nor that Grandfather will be alone in looking for the little bird about to hatch. They've all got their jobs today, and hers is clear. Maybe she'll get a chance to see the baby if they can find it in time. She hopes they do.

GAME: Telamon rolls glare: aliased to Intimidate: (19)+36: 55

Unlike many previous trips to Quelynos, Rune is wearing long sleeves this time. Enough so that only upper and lower extremes of her tattoo are visible against her cheek and hand. Almost as if she wants to save the discussion of her current ties to another Fae for an entirely different, future discussion, with Grandfather.

For now, the rogue seems focused enough on the task at hand. "So we're looking for a golden-feathered bird, that looks especially tasty to predators." Her eyes sweep over the nests, as if she were trying to gauge which one out of the many this mystery bird might come from.

That is, until the elven looking Fae removes his cloak and drapes it onto one of the nearby trees. Curse her roving eyes and tendency to appreciate someone of fine figure. There is a moment where her stare lingers just a bit uncomfortably too long before a stabbing sensation along her arm seems to bring her back to reality.

"Ow..." She whispers, rubbing at that hidden, tattooed arm, scowling. "Don't tell me you're getting jealous." She mutters to no one in particular.

There are no shadows in Telamon's eyes. It's the oddest thing, really, as he glides along, flying about two inches above the turf as he follows in Grandfather's wake. "A -golden- bird? How curious. This will be quite the sight." His lips turn downward as Alud'rigan mentions hawks. "Unpleasant. Still, I think we can keep them at bay."

As the eggs are starting to hatch, he nods to his sister. "I'm going to try something -- I've never done this before, but it should be quite impressive." He casts his eyes outward, knowing the egg cracking will draw the birds of prey. And he draws himself up... floating a little taller. Suddenly the light around him seems a little dimmer -- no, not dimmer. It's as though Telamon is being limned only in starlight, as opposed to the perpetual twilight of this place. His shadow grows longer, as if he stood taller, and his voice echoes in Sylvan across the wooded dell. "You who would prey on the newly hatched, begone. Thus decrees the starborn king, steward of Leca'fi Amdamu." Floating there, his eyes glow with the light of distant suns.

Aryia was here for the food to be honest. And to get out out of the Colosseum for a bit, so to speak. She detaches herself from some vantage point after eating, following after Alud'rigan at an ambling pace. She was in no rush, listening to him explain what goes on this time of the year. Only for there to be a sudden onset of hawks closing in!

Seeing as the others have opted to clear the skies, Aryia abruptly bursts into a sprint, all but running up the bark and flinging herself up into the branches. She watches the nest hatch... only to throw her jacket over the nest to hide them from the oncoming predators. No golden one, but still on the lookout!

"Sweethearts, I know you are worried," Alud'rigan coos to two parents-to-be birds in their nest in one tree. "None of your eggs hatched last year, but maybe this year will be different." He's even petting them reassuringly with those big clawed hands of his.

As the hawks appear, it's notable that they all seem to steer far and clear of Telamon--or at least, most do. There's a couple of absolutely foolhardy hawks that go right at Telamon, and the rest are instead swerving around, flying around to try and avoid the people in the clearing as they begin to descend!

GAME: Aryia rolls perception: (16)+36: 52
GAME: Auranar rolls 1d20+9+1+1+1+1: (8)+9+1+1+1+1: 21
GAME: Rune rolls perception: (2)+36: 38
GAME: Telamon casts Shades. Caster Level: 20 DC: 31

Auranar focuses on the hawks that are harassing Telamon, trying to allow her brother to keep his own attention centered on things that aren't quite so close at hand. She smiles at the sound of Grandfather's voice soothing his birds even as she shoots the one flying at Telamon. "One down!" She calls out, letting Telamon know she has his back.

She pulls another arrow and grins at Telamon. "Here I was thinking that your speech was going to scare them off too much for me to have anything to do, I'm not sure if I'm pleasantly surprised to be wrong, or appalled at their lack of survival instinct." Auranar laughs.

Telamon watches as the hawks begin to peel off, avoiding him as much as possible. The soft glow of starlight intensifies around him as his hair is lifted by invisible winds, a thin rime of ice forming around his sleeves. "Hunger can drive animals to foolish ends, sister. Even so, I wish it was not necessary."

As Auranar's arrow picks off one of the hawks, Tel's fingers move in practiced motions. "Nambarag anungal, silig gissu, namsimug gesse." Smoke pours from his hands, swirling around him, and then breaks apart to reveal vast thunderclouds. No... birds, sculpted of smoke and cloud, bigger than horses but impossibly agile as they charge into the melee. There are no cries from the bizarre elemental-birds, only the rush of wind and the crackle of thunder in their depths.

With her arm still smarting from a not so gentle reminder not to oogle her patron's ex-boy-toy, Rune sets to searching one of the nearby trees. As she peeks her head over to view the nest, the mother bird looks back at her.

The two lock in what looks like a staring contest, at least briefly, as Rune doesn't want to move to avoid startling the creature still sitting atop her nest. However, the bird then squawks and gets up, bumping her head right into Rune's nose. "Oh, uh... hello there." The bird flaps and takes wing, only to perch in the rogue's hair. "So, I'm just here to check and make sure you and your babies are okay."

The bird does not give two feathers about the reasons, she just begins arranging bits and pieces of Rune's colorful hair together as if making another nest atop her head. The bird continues to do so, even as her eggs begin to hatch. "Aww, they're adorable, in a goo covered puffball sort of way." She murmurs.

"They're probably going to need their momma." To which the bird looks up once, mrrrieeps, and then continues to preen at Rune's hair. It isn't until the half-sil tries climbing down that the bird decides to latch on and pluck out a chunk of Rune's hair, only to take it back to the nest.

One nest has now gained some colorful decorations, whereas Rune rubs at her head from the missing patch of hair.

Aryia squints through the dark forest as spells and arrows fly, only for her senses to hone in on another nest. She grabs onto the branches, dropping herself into a deep crouch before launching herself out like a slingshot. She lands above another nest, staring into it deeply before- blink blink. "... h-w -r- y- s- f-ck-ng c-rc-l-r...?" she hisses aloud in confusion. But all seems good here! The bird squawks in protest. They are perfect shape! Peak corvid!

The hawks are destroyed between Telamon and Auranar's efforts, and that gives some peace back to the clearing. While there might be more hawks that come, for a moment, there is a reprieve in the skies.

Alud'rigan, for his part... Has several little puffballs of bird-babies in his arms. He looks rather embarrassed as he looks at the adventurers who are all doing an awful lot. "I have been chosen," he says. "Unlike most terrestrial birds, my flock are born knowing how to fly. So..."

As he says that, there are suddenly an awful lot of tiny birds flying out of the nests. They don't necessarily do it well. One flies into Grandfather's face. "I should have mentioned this earlier," he says.

GAME: Aryia rolls reflex: (19)+25: 44
GAME: Auranar rolls Reflex: (4)+9: 13
GAME: Telamon rolls reflex: (9)+16: 25
GAME: Rune rolls reflex: (10)+24: 34
GAME: Auranar casts Haste. Caster Level: 10 DC: 19
GAME: Telamon rolls 1d20+16: (8)+16: 24
GAME: Auranar rolls Perception: (5)+5: 10
GAME: Rune rolls perception: (15)+36: 51

Auranar is besieged by puffballs. She laughs as the little babies try - try - to fly and some of them do alright but the rest... not so much. She manages to get off a spell to help quicken her allies but she can't see anything through the floating swarm of tiny little baby birds. It looks like a cloud of them! "Grandfather!"

She doesn't even know what she means to say then, because she's giggling at the little birblings bumbling around haphazardly.

The hawks have evidently decided that there is easier fare elsewhere. As in, -anywhere but here-. Telamon watches with a satisfied expression, as the elementals begin to fall back around him. "Well, that wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be." At Grandfather's comment, Tel turns to the elder fey. "Well, if it helps, I wasn't good at it at first either..."

Then the air is full of small baby birds. Telamon's eyes widen, and he shoots Grandfather a -look-. "You think?" Instinctively his hands reach out to catch one of the tiny birds which chirps at him merrily. "Yes, little one, you're very cute." He glances over and sees the elementals opening their wings wide so the baby birds will land on them instead. "There's something weird about that," he comments, especially as some of the baby birds are happily bouncing up and down on the clouds forming the elementals.

Aryia squints across the way at Grandfather as the hawks abate their assault. The mute idly returning back to where she left her jacket. She blinks at him, only before gasping, flailing backwards as she hugs against a tree trunk she was climbing to shield herself from the fuzzy hailstorm.

A thought crosses her, and she scrabbles up the tree, getting near the highest point before inverting herself and hanging off a branch from her legs. The pugilist claps her hands, a burst of moonlight sparking forth from her hands before spreading them out, making a penumbra spread throughout the forest, making all the shadows grow heavier, yet all the light shimmers bright as the full day!

All of a sudden, the birds that were in the nest come flying towards her, each of them carrying portion of the pilfered tuft of hair as they take wing. Thankfully, Rune is quick on her feet, fast enough to duck down and let the younglings take wing above her. "Good thing we got rid of the hawks. Otherwise this would be a veritable buffet of birdlings."

She and Aryia seem to get a similar idea. Rune grabs onto the tree next to the one the Mul' is climbing and scales up above the swarming flock of birds. Once high enough, she braces herself against one of the branches and starts trying to look through the many darkly-feathered forms.

"Sqerrrk." It seems her bird friend has found her, and comes to roost on her head again. "No more taking my hair, got it? I need that." The bird just snuggles into the dyed strands, as if it were incubating Rune's head as a very large egg. "Great... why don't you help me lo--"

And that is when the flare of moonlight nearly blinds the rogue who is far more used to operating in the shadows. She blinks, trying to clear spots from her eyes. That is when she sees a flicker of something amongst the flailing, fluttering forms of feathered fledglings. "Aryia, there!" Rune points in the direction of the glint of gold.

The glint of gold in the flock of darkness is, indeed, proof that a shiny bird has been hatched today in Grandfather's flock. The good news is that a lot of the birds are settling down onto branches of trees or retreating back to their nests. Flying takes a lot out of a baby who's just been born.

The bad news is that the woods are _very_ noisy. The baby birds are demanding food. Grandfather chuckles warmly. "Don't fret, don't fret, I have food for all of you," he says, murmuring a spell. He conjures up a fresh pile of worms, and the adult birds go to start attacking at the pile.

The baby bird cacophony, however, continues. Speaking of which, that baby bird...

"Mip." It's landed on the ground, looking a little pathetic with its beady black eyes and shiny fuzz. But it seems like this is the moment that a hawk's been waiting for, because one swoops out of the woods, beelining for the little golden-winged child.

GAME: Auranar casts Magic Missile. Caster Level: 10 DC: 17
GAME: Telamon casts Telekinetic Sphere. Caster Level: 20 DC: 29

Aryia perks as Rune points out the golden glitter, and she relaxes. Good! They found it- wait a second. There's a hawk-shaped blur coming from the woods, seen from the moonlight being cast about.

The mute launches herself at a break-neck speed towards Rune's branch, jamming her feet into the fresh branch and pulling back with one hand. "Tuck and roll!" she signs to the half-sil before pulling the branch back dangerously far to a near right angle- then-

THWUMP!

<Handspeech/Tongues>

In the moment between spotting the bird and the quick hand-signals that are being sent her way, Rune has enough time to get out a hurried: "Wait what?" As she is launched from her branch.

The bird atop her head takes flight, soaring just above her as if happy to be flying together. Rune, on the other hand, is not so happy to be tossed skyward. Mid-flight, as she is about to start plummeting towards the ground, a pair of wings emerges from Rune's back which may be very familiar to Grandfather. They are iridescent in coloration, with the distinct shape of butterfly wings.

Swooping down, Rune scoops up the baby bird, clutching it against her chest as she goes tumbling into the ground. It's a rough landing, but she does her best to cradle the golden one while skidding into the ground. When she finally stops, she looks up and mutters, "Little help?" Looking to Telamon.

As usual, Telamon's solution is esoteric, but it works. As Aryia launches Rune at the tiny golden bird, his hands are moving again, flickers of dappled light and shadow appearing around him as he chants. Once the bird is in Rune's gentle grasp, he releases his spell.

There's a flash of shimmering light, as a sphere of polygonal shapes wraps around his friend and the tiny golden hatchling. The lines fade, but now Rune and her little burden are floating in the middle of a shimmering globe of incandescent force, as safe as if they were hidden away in Grandfather's home. "I have you," he says calmly, a faint smile on his lips.

Auranar sees the incoming hawk and realizes where it's headed in an instant and a spell flows from her lips without thought or hesitation. The hawk is too close to the baby bird for her to risk an arrow, but this is a hawk and she needs a sure-fire attack. This spell is perfect on all accounts.

She points her fingers toward the hawk and intones the words of magic that breathe life into her spell. It comes naturally to her now, and she feels the warmth of the magic flow hot to her hand where it is expelled in force and light. The magically-accelerated missiles hit the hawk unerringly and she smiles grimly. It gives her no joy to harm or kill the hawk, but protecting the young chick is worth it.

She trusts that Telamon will handle the rest, but she should have expected more from Aryia and Rune... Because that's an impressive maneuver that they pull off with Rune tucking and rolling with the baby bird as Telamon's sphere slams into place.

Personally, Auranar couldn't think of terribly many people she'd want to tangle with less if *she* were a hawk than the woman currently protecting the golden chick.

Grandfather's eyes widen as he sees the butterfly wings, but then he catches sight of the little golden-fuzzed baby bird in Rune's grasp. He smiles widely, stepping forward. "_Very_ good teamwork, everyone!" he says, before adding more bashfully, "Well, you all did the great work. I was just trying to help poor Merlina and her mate through their anxieties..."

He points to the tree he'd laid his feather cloak on earlier. "There's four children in there now, and very happy parent-birds." Grandfather then looks at Telamon and Rune both. "I am... Very curious about where you got those wings from, Rune, but we can talk about that when we're safe in my house. Telamon, my son, can you let down your spell so I can take the precious one?"

Then Grandfather offers a wide smile at Auranar, then the rest of the group. "What shall we name the baby? Any ideas?"

Aryia blinks as Rune's back erupts into wings, confused from the sudden magical development, but honestly, at this point, she should expect the most unexpected things to pop out from those that she knows.

Despite all that, a pent breath escapes her in relief as the sphere materializes and the hawk is magically cleft from the air.

She drops from the tree, landing with a little huff as she approaches to look at the shiny little thing. "Trust me, you sure as shit don't want me naming anything," she opines, pulling out a fluffy feather stuck in her hair. <Handspeech/Tongues>

It is an odd feeling to be inside a magical bubble. Rune's form sort of rocks back and forth within it momentarily like a hamster in a plastic orb. The bird in her hand chirrups once, then peeks a fluffy golden head out from beneath her fingers. When the rogue tries to stand up, the wobbly nature of the bubble has her slide back down.

"Uh, yeah, a little help." She laughs, finding the whole situation a little comical. Especially as her other bird friend is now perched atop Telamon's bubble, looking quite distressed that it can't get to Rune.

Oh, and she clears her throat, looking sheepish at Grandfather's notice of the wings, "Yeah... we should probably talk about that at some point."

Expecting Telamon will deal with the bubble, she holds up the bird in the general direction of Grandfather.

Telamon turns his eyes toward the hawk, but... it's taken care of already. "Thank you, Aura," he says with a warm smile. He gestures, the sphere floating a little closer, as apparently insubstantial as a soap bubble before he brings it to a stop.

At Grandfather's request -- and Rune's -- he suddenly chuckles. "Oh. Yes. Absolutely. I think we've managed things." A careful gesture, the mark of dismissal drawn in the air, and the sphere glimmers brightly before it dissipates back into polygonal planes of force that fade into motes of mana.

Tel hmms, turning to face Grandfather fully. "Well... we'd need to know if it's a boy or a girl, first. But for a boy, Alvarius -- that was my great-grandfather on my father's side."

"You owe me nothing Telamon." Auranar offers with a bit of embarrassment, she looks then at her Grandfather, smiling back at him, but it's not him that her eyes linger on for long. Its Rune. Rune who had in the end saved the chick. Rune whom she knows has endured so much. She looks down at the golden chick who is in the woman's arms safely and her dark eyes meet Runes. "Kiira." She says the name softly, gently. "In honor of a mother who is worthy of the name. If it is a girl."

Grandfather smiles tenderly at both Telamon and Auranar's suggestions for a name, and he takes the bird carefully in those big clawed hands of his. But he's utterly gentle with the little fuzzball. Its golden fuzz is such a stark contrast to the ink-black of Alud'rigan's hands. But the little bird seems entirely at comfort in his hands.

"Girl," Grandfather says after a moment. Auranar's seen this before; he has an uncanny knack of knowing what the birds are without any kind of physical exam or divinatory magic. At times, so do both Cor'lana and Auranar. (Not always, but sometimes.) "So, Kiira she will be."

Kiira, newly-dubbed, gives a little 'mirp' noise, and Grandfather carefully brings the little creature up to his lips, kissing it. It's easy to see how the man's raised generations of Cor'lana and Auranar's ancestors. Despite the violence one would expect from hands like his... He chooses to love. "Appropriate, all things considered," Alud'rigan says with a smile. "Shall we head back to my home? I hid a hazelnut-pumpkin cheesecake in the kitchen for us all to share afterwards."

Once the bubble is no longer holding her in place, Rune rises to her feet carefully. Now that she is freed, it seems that she once again is a perch to a fully adult bird, who once again settles in to try to nest in her hair. Sigh.

However, it is Auranar's comment that draw's Rune's blue eyes in her direction. Her expression softens slightly, but the corner of her lip quirks in a small smile. "I don't know if I ever got to tell you, after all the trouble with Verna's kidnapping, I wanted to make sure you both had time to rest and recover." She hedges, "After we killed that bastard, I was able to free my mother, or... the woman who would have been her."

Rune shakes her head, "It's complicated, but... she lives. It's... a long story." Looking over to Grandfather and the bird, "And she's going to be amused that she now has a golden bird as her namesake." Rune laughs, a bit of levity sometimes needed in a world of far too many trials.

-End