A Matter of Price – Orianna Èirigh – 22.06.2022
Jun 23, 2022 11:32:08 GMT
Velania Kalugina, Andy D, and 3 more like this
Post by Orianna Èirigh on Jun 23, 2022 11:32:08 GMT
OBSERVATIONS & EXCERPTS from the JOURNAL of SECOND ASSISTANT ARCHIVIST ORIANNA ÈIRIGH of ASHKHA
These rooms feel different, spacious, like something is missing.
It is him. I know it.
I was surprised when he came to the yew tree. But more than that, I was surprised how much his coming eased my mind and heart. I really wasn’t sure he would.
And then, last night… Such moments are too precious to write down.
Gerhard. A name that lives on my lips through these long days and pleasant nights. A name I kiss with each breath. A name I long to say whilst held in his arms once more…
He told me about Arva, the savanna north of the desert, and of the centaur people there he and Anåbæl Two-Stœp wished to entreat to help the Dawnlands. I offered to come with them — one part to see this “newly discovered” place; another part to help him. Not that he needs my help, just-
We work well together.
Anåbæl did not seem to remember me from the time we tried to save Professor Castro. She thought it had all been a horrible dream. I can understand why. It is hard for me to think about that time without remembering all the strange and horrific things beyond the Cosmos we saw. But she seemed to be in good health, and very prepared for the expedition to Arva.
A halfling, Sterling Pann, was already there when I arrived. He is a tinkerer! For a brilliant minded individual, he seemed very adamant that magic is beneath him. Funny, considering I could sense in his aura the telltale touch of Medteten’s influence.
The final member of our expedition was Mendal Vultan, a rather loud and boisterous dwarf of the forge. All of his equipment, with the exception of his cloak, was crafted by him!…
It was my first time meeting the Lady Saria Underwood. She seemed enthused by Gerhard and Anåbæl’s proposal. However she warned that the centaur lords and the dragonic peoples of Kundar are not on amicable terms. Something about past conflicts and raiding I think. She wanted the council to have “Plausible deniability” which meant though we were given the permission for the expedition it was not going to be officially endorsed. I became a little distracted after Lady Underwood mentioned needing “every capable warrior” for the coming invasion.
I am no Talon of the Sun. My track record for getting in too deep in a fight is also rather hard to ignore. I do not wish to be a burden upon the others, especially him. I hope nothing like the hydra or the white dragon attack will happen…
Everything was burning when we arrived.
It is summer now, which means Arva is in its dry season, thunderstorms and lighting, very very frightening grass fires, and hundreds of thousands of centaurs migrating from the west to the east where water and sanctuary lay. I do not think Gerhard and Anåbæl knew what was occurring else we might not have timed our coming so poorly. Though the plight of the Dawnlands against the encroaching githyanki attack is not something we could have ignored either, and this is our last chance to get help. I don’t know how many other allies we have. Do we have enough? Will our allies come?
Because both of them have been to Arva before they had a slight rapport with the three centaur lords: Kashgar, Vanya, and Zelti. Kashgar seemed to laugh at us and the words we tried to use to entreat their help. It was good then that we were given two carts full of weapons and armour from the Daring Heights Council. Zelti, the Mater Maker for their tribe, Korvak, was very impressed with the quality of the materials. Vanya did not seem to sneer or dismiss my offer to produce water should that have helped. I understand the importance of having it, being from a desert myself. But it would not solve their long term need for water over the coming months.
Despite our offer of resources, what Kashgar, Vanya and Zelti really wanted was to get their people to the closest oasis. However, in order to do that, they needed to beat a rival tribe, Renkor, to the biggest and closest water supply. Unfortunately a bull elephant that had been purposefully set in the way of their path. It was then presented to us that if we were able to defeat the gargantuan creature it would allow them to possibly spare the warriors needed to help the Dawnlands.
It seems I may have been too hopeful in my wishes to avoid a deadly fight…
We are alive! Barely. But we did it!
There was a moment as the bull elephant charged at me. I saw his face. The fear and the desperation. The helplessness in his eyes.
This was not what I wanted.
I am not a warrior. I am not a Talon of the Sun.
I am a Chosen of the Cosmos, and I choose to stay on this earth with him. That’s why I had to run away. It felt cowardly, but no one said the like to me. Perhaps they were all relieved I did not fall.
I could see he was. But he was angry, so angry. The fierceness of his strikes into the bull elephant would have been terrifying were I not more concerned about him.
And then, somehow, together, Gerhard and I felled the gargantuan creature, thus winning the favour of Kashgar, Vanya and Zelti!
The centaurs will aid the Dawnlands. I pray they make it in time…
Orianna puts down her quill, tossing sand onto her journal so as to help the ink dry faster. It is late afternoon, the sun coming through her wide open windows is a bright, burnt orange. She gets up, stretching her arms over her head, a series of pops running up her spine before she winces, hand clutching at her hip where the tusk of the bull elephant had nearly gored her to death. Gerhard’s healing touches helped to fully stop the bleeding Mendal’s restorative words could not completely do, but there was still an ache.
Nothing a nice hot bath wouldn’t fix.
Her mind wanders as she moves about her quiet apartments to the bath. When she had asked for the tub she had been told that the plumbing doesn’t reach her floor. She would need to go to the second floor to use the communal bath there. But Orianna had insisted. The beauty of creating water yourself is that you could have baths for as long as you wanted and not have to worry about disturbing anyone.
She creates water in the large bastin, thinking of the hot springs of her home briefly before they are hidden behind the magical veil of protection. Such things happening would have made her upset before but not today. No, right now she is thinking of something, or rather, someone else.
The moment the bull elephant had begun to fall, Orianna had run straight for Gerhard. He had made a foolish attempt at climbing the creature to possibly get… Actually, she wasn’t sure what he had planned. But it did not matter because as the creature had charged at her, he began to fall from its back.
She feared he was going to be crushed under its trampling feet.
But he wasn’t. He is alive. He is safe. He returned with me.
He wasn’t here now but Gerhard had looked like he wanted to come back to hers. However there had been a ghost of… something in his eyes. A look Orianna had seen before but one she couldn’t quite understand. She didn’t push. She was still in pain and was a little tired after the events of the day.
Instead Orianna merely said, “My door is always open to you, Gerhard. You know where to find me.” Then, once the others had turned away, she had given him a lingering kiss.
She touches her lips as she looks into the water, a flush rising to her cheeks. Orianna shakes her head, smiling to herself and walks towards her bedroom, beginning to undress. As she passes it, her eye catches on a side table. Resting against a small stack of books is a sketch of a yew tree with two lovers, one pointing to the horizon, the other reaching into a basket, sitting underneath it. The flush rises anew to her periwinkle skin. Perhaps she will visit Gerhard tomorrow afternoon, after she has caught up on some of her studies with Oriloki.
As she crosses from one room to the next her vision begins to get brighter, the golden hour light turning bluish-white. The sound of her cloven steps falters. She tries to grip the doorframe of her bedroom to steady herself but she cannot see it. Everything has become streaks of blue-white fire, inky void-like darkness, and string of brilliant silver.
“No-... Not again-…”
Orianna falls.
Clop clop clop.
The sound of her cloven feet echo through the spiral/stacks of the Archive/Library. She is looking for something. Or is it someone? She cannot remember.
Clop clop clop.
She begins to move a little faster. Everything is in silvery monochrome. But it’s not dark. She looks up and sees galaxies infinite, nebulas endless, on and on and on.
Clop clop clop.
Moving faster she almost misses it. She finds a familiar place. A stairway. It leads down/up and she begins to descend/ascend.
Clop clop clop.
“Ms. Èirigh?” calls a voice down/up the stairs. It’s not one she recognises. The click of fine shoes on stone/wood joins the last echoes of her name as a figure descends/ascends.
They are but a young man, human looking, his alabaster skin a steep contrast to his dark black hair, styled with a steady, practised hand.
“Who are…”
The question dies on her lips. She knows this person, somehow, though they have never met before. She does not like this person, but she doesn’t quite know why.
In his hands he holds a letter, a simple fold of parchment, that he hands to the surprised tiefling. She takes it and flips it over, a strange dread filling her. She sees the handwriting that spells her name.
She would recognise that hand anywhere.
Her eyes dart back up to look at the figure properly for the first time, their name howling through her mind as the stars above scream her heart’s anguish.
All that stare back at her are orbs of pure silver.
Continued in ‘Falling Awake’ 💫
Thank you Gerhard for the vision inspiration🌠
These rooms feel different, spacious, like something is missing.
It is him. I know it.
I was surprised when he came to the yew tree. But more than that, I was surprised how much his coming eased my mind and heart. I really wasn’t sure he would.
And then, last night… Such moments are too precious to write down.
Gerhard. A name that lives on my lips through these long days and pleasant nights. A name I kiss with each breath. A name I long to say whilst held in his arms once more…
He told me about Arva, the savanna north of the desert, and of the centaur people there he and Anåbæl Two-Stœp wished to entreat to help the Dawnlands. I offered to come with them — one part to see this “newly discovered” place; another part to help him. Not that he needs my help, just-
We work well together.
Anåbæl did not seem to remember me from the time we tried to save Professor Castro. She thought it had all been a horrible dream. I can understand why. It is hard for me to think about that time without remembering all the strange and horrific things beyond the Cosmos we saw. But she seemed to be in good health, and very prepared for the expedition to Arva.
A halfling, Sterling Pann, was already there when I arrived. He is a tinkerer! For a brilliant minded individual, he seemed very adamant that magic is beneath him. Funny, considering I could sense in his aura the telltale touch of Medteten’s influence.
The final member of our expedition was Mendal Vultan, a rather loud and boisterous dwarf of the forge. All of his equipment, with the exception of his cloak, was crafted by him!…
It was my first time meeting the Lady Saria Underwood. She seemed enthused by Gerhard and Anåbæl’s proposal. However she warned that the centaur lords and the dragonic peoples of Kundar are not on amicable terms. Something about past conflicts and raiding I think. She wanted the council to have “Plausible deniability” which meant though we were given the permission for the expedition it was not going to be officially endorsed. I became a little distracted after Lady Underwood mentioned needing “every capable warrior” for the coming invasion.
I am no Talon of the Sun. My track record for getting in too deep in a fight is also rather hard to ignore. I do not wish to be a burden upon the others, especially him. I hope nothing like the hydra or the white dragon attack will happen…
Everything was burning when we arrived.
It is summer now, which means Arva is in its dry season, thunderstorms and lighting, very very frightening grass fires, and hundreds of thousands of centaurs migrating from the west to the east where water and sanctuary lay. I do not think Gerhard and Anåbæl knew what was occurring else we might not have timed our coming so poorly. Though the plight of the Dawnlands against the encroaching githyanki attack is not something we could have ignored either, and this is our last chance to get help. I don’t know how many other allies we have. Do we have enough? Will our allies come?
Because both of them have been to Arva before they had a slight rapport with the three centaur lords: Kashgar, Vanya, and Zelti. Kashgar seemed to laugh at us and the words we tried to use to entreat their help. It was good then that we were given two carts full of weapons and armour from the Daring Heights Council. Zelti, the Mater Maker for their tribe, Korvak, was very impressed with the quality of the materials. Vanya did not seem to sneer or dismiss my offer to produce water should that have helped. I understand the importance of having it, being from a desert myself. But it would not solve their long term need for water over the coming months.
Despite our offer of resources, what Kashgar, Vanya and Zelti really wanted was to get their people to the closest oasis. However, in order to do that, they needed to beat a rival tribe, Renkor, to the biggest and closest water supply. Unfortunately a bull elephant that had been purposefully set in the way of their path. It was then presented to us that if we were able to defeat the gargantuan creature it would allow them to possibly spare the warriors needed to help the Dawnlands.
It seems I may have been too hopeful in my wishes to avoid a deadly fight…
We are alive! Barely. But we did it!
There was a moment as the bull elephant charged at me. I saw his face. The fear and the desperation. The helplessness in his eyes.
This was not what I wanted.
I am not a warrior. I am not a Talon of the Sun.
I am a Chosen of the Cosmos, and I choose to stay on this earth with him. That’s why I had to run away. It felt cowardly, but no one said the like to me. Perhaps they were all relieved I did not fall.
I could see he was. But he was angry, so angry. The fierceness of his strikes into the bull elephant would have been terrifying were I not more concerned about him.
And then, somehow, together, Gerhard and I felled the gargantuan creature, thus winning the favour of Kashgar, Vanya and Zelti!
The centaurs will aid the Dawnlands. I pray they make it in time…
Orianna puts down her quill, tossing sand onto her journal so as to help the ink dry faster. It is late afternoon, the sun coming through her wide open windows is a bright, burnt orange. She gets up, stretching her arms over her head, a series of pops running up her spine before she winces, hand clutching at her hip where the tusk of the bull elephant had nearly gored her to death. Gerhard’s healing touches helped to fully stop the bleeding Mendal’s restorative words could not completely do, but there was still an ache.
Nothing a nice hot bath wouldn’t fix.
Her mind wanders as she moves about her quiet apartments to the bath. When she had asked for the tub she had been told that the plumbing doesn’t reach her floor. She would need to go to the second floor to use the communal bath there. But Orianna had insisted. The beauty of creating water yourself is that you could have baths for as long as you wanted and not have to worry about disturbing anyone.
She creates water in the large bastin, thinking of the hot springs of her home briefly before they are hidden behind the magical veil of protection. Such things happening would have made her upset before but not today. No, right now she is thinking of something, or rather, someone else.
The moment the bull elephant had begun to fall, Orianna had run straight for Gerhard. He had made a foolish attempt at climbing the creature to possibly get… Actually, she wasn’t sure what he had planned. But it did not matter because as the creature had charged at her, he began to fall from its back.
She feared he was going to be crushed under its trampling feet.
But he wasn’t. He is alive. He is safe. He returned with me.
He wasn’t here now but Gerhard had looked like he wanted to come back to hers. However there had been a ghost of… something in his eyes. A look Orianna had seen before but one she couldn’t quite understand. She didn’t push. She was still in pain and was a little tired after the events of the day.
Instead Orianna merely said, “My door is always open to you, Gerhard. You know where to find me.” Then, once the others had turned away, she had given him a lingering kiss.
She touches her lips as she looks into the water, a flush rising to her cheeks. Orianna shakes her head, smiling to herself and walks towards her bedroom, beginning to undress. As she passes it, her eye catches on a side table. Resting against a small stack of books is a sketch of a yew tree with two lovers, one pointing to the horizon, the other reaching into a basket, sitting underneath it. The flush rises anew to her periwinkle skin. Perhaps she will visit Gerhard tomorrow afternoon, after she has caught up on some of her studies with Oriloki.
As she crosses from one room to the next her vision begins to get brighter, the golden hour light turning bluish-white. The sound of her cloven steps falters. She tries to grip the doorframe of her bedroom to steady herself but she cannot see it. Everything has become streaks of blue-white fire, inky void-like darkness, and string of brilliant silver.
“No-... Not again-…”
Orianna falls.
Clop clop clop.
The sound of her cloven feet echo through the spiral/stacks of the Archive/Library. She is looking for something. Or is it someone? She cannot remember.
Clop clop clop.
She begins to move a little faster. Everything is in silvery monochrome. But it’s not dark. She looks up and sees galaxies infinite, nebulas endless, on and on and on.
Clop clop clop.
Moving faster she almost misses it. She finds a familiar place. A stairway. It leads down/up and she begins to descend/ascend.
Clop clop clop.
“Ms. Èirigh?” calls a voice down/up the stairs. It’s not one she recognises. The click of fine shoes on stone/wood joins the last echoes of her name as a figure descends/ascends.
They are but a young man, human looking, his alabaster skin a steep contrast to his dark black hair, styled with a steady, practised hand.
“Who are…”
The question dies on her lips. She knows this person, somehow, though they have never met before. She does not like this person, but she doesn’t quite know why.
In his hands he holds a letter, a simple fold of parchment, that he hands to the surprised tiefling. She takes it and flips it over, a strange dread filling her. She sees the handwriting that spells her name.
She would recognise that hand anywhere.
Her eyes dart back up to look at the figure properly for the first time, their name howling through her mind as the stars above scream her heart’s anguish.
All that stare back at her are orbs of pure silver.
Continued in ‘Falling Awake’ 💫
Thank you Gerhard for the vision inspiration🌠
