So You Want To Play With Magic (30/3) - Zola
Mar 31, 2023 8:49:17 GMT
Delilah Daybreaker, Velania Kalugina, and 1 more like this
Post by Zola Rhomdaen on Mar 31, 2023 8:49:17 GMT
Zola stretches her back and arms when she and Cor’Vandor land on the teleportation hub of the Mountain Palace. She’d healed most of her injuries and all of Cor’Vandor’s wounds, and gotten some alcoholic comfort on the moss sofa of the lounge in the Court of Silence — courtesy of Elias — but she just can’t wait to crash onto her bed at home in Haspar Knoll. Indeed, there’s no comfort like a familiar bed.
As she steps off the platform and heads for the tabaxi mage who handles local teleportations, she hears a deep voice call out her name. Jaezred Vandree is walking in her direction, a cloth-wrapped bundle in one hand and his new “cane”, tapping softly on the black stone floor, in the other.
Cor’Vandor’s ears perk up at the sound of the drow lord’s voice, and he bows his head low. Zola raises her brows at the surprising show of respect — that’s a new development. Jaezred arches an eyebrow too in response; his silence betrays a hesitation on how to address this gesture from Eilistraee’s fey steed, but however he feels about it, he chooses not to unpack it now.
“So? Did you manage to get Oziah’s furniture back?” he asks Zola in Drowic.
“Oh! So it was you who sent them my way.”
“Yes, apologies. Oziah did send me a furious, screeching message, but unfortunately, I had my hands full with a task from upstairs,” he says, giving her a tired smile.
She glances down at his left hand resting on the quartz topping his “cane”, her gaze lingering ever so briefly on the new copper ring on his pinky. “Oh, um, it’s not a problem, Lord Jaezred. I’m happy to help those who helped our community. And yes, we got the lady’s furniture back from the wizards who stole them.”
“Well, don’t just leave it at that. Tell me more.”
“Sorry, I’m not sure I could give the full picture. It was all so…terribly strange. I thought it was a silly prank at first but it’s clearly not,” she replies with a furrowed brow. “There were five wizards. They were in the Court of Sorcery, perhaps the most wondrous place I’ve ever seen in my life so far… They were in some kind of tower sanctum — an ossuary, or maybe a temple? Full of bones, coffins, and a burning tree. The wizards were… Well, they weren’t exactly undead, but they weren’t living either, even though they’re immortal. They said this was a test, that we had to fight and fell each of them to get the stuff back, that they’re doing this because someone hired them.”
“Oh? Who was it?”
“I don’t know. All they were willing to say was that the client came from the Twilight Court. Someone who was impressed with Lady Oziah’s battle with a necromancer, or something. That…made her and her girlfriend very upset.”
The amused expression on Jaezred’s face drops immediately and a deep frown takes its place. He too knows what this means. But before Zola could ask, he says, “Thank you, Miss Oussviir. You will have to excuse me, I must attend to my friends at once. Where are they now?”
“Uh, the Court of Silence. In the lounge in the big tree.”
“Right. Thanks, once again. Here.” He puts the cloth-wrapped bundle in her hands. “Scones and blueberry preserve, for you and your mothers. Apologies, it is but a humble offering for I had no time to bake a bigger batch.”
She smiles at him. “Thank you! Well, see you at church tomorrow?”
He makes a groaning sound and a flippant wave of the hand as he walks past her, towards the teleportation circle platform. For all of his performative reluctance, she knows that he will be there, sitting in the backmost pew come service tomorrow, as certain as the full moon will stay in the sky. She giggles to herself.
And then she remembers that she forgot to mention something. “Oh wait! There’s one other thi—” she exclaims as she whirls around, half a second too late. She had turned around just in time to see Jaezred’s form disappear through a portal.
Damn. She wanted to tell him about what she saw as they were leaving the Iridescent Tower: a tall figure standing almost hidden in the treeline, clad in dark furs and with a glowing, beastly head — just staring at her. When their eyes met, it slowly backed away into a beam of light, where its body seemed to become one with the light itself.
An extremely odd encounter, needless to say. But then again, it’s the Feywild — what else is new? It’s probably nothing, maybe they were simply a curious denizen of the court.
The Court of Sorcery… A place positively brimming with magic; a place so magical that it is supposedly the source of all magic in the entire Feywild, and the birthplace of the art of fey dealmaking.
There’s much that can be learned from a place like that, Zola thinks as she saunters over to the tabaxi mage. If only I could visit it again.
As she steps off the platform and heads for the tabaxi mage who handles local teleportations, she hears a deep voice call out her name. Jaezred Vandree is walking in her direction, a cloth-wrapped bundle in one hand and his new “cane”, tapping softly on the black stone floor, in the other.
Cor’Vandor’s ears perk up at the sound of the drow lord’s voice, and he bows his head low. Zola raises her brows at the surprising show of respect — that’s a new development. Jaezred arches an eyebrow too in response; his silence betrays a hesitation on how to address this gesture from Eilistraee’s fey steed, but however he feels about it, he chooses not to unpack it now.
“So? Did you manage to get Oziah’s furniture back?” he asks Zola in Drowic.
“Oh! So it was you who sent them my way.”
“Yes, apologies. Oziah did send me a furious, screeching message, but unfortunately, I had my hands full with a task from upstairs,” he says, giving her a tired smile.
She glances down at his left hand resting on the quartz topping his “cane”, her gaze lingering ever so briefly on the new copper ring on his pinky. “Oh, um, it’s not a problem, Lord Jaezred. I’m happy to help those who helped our community. And yes, we got the lady’s furniture back from the wizards who stole them.”
“Well, don’t just leave it at that. Tell me more.”
“Sorry, I’m not sure I could give the full picture. It was all so…terribly strange. I thought it was a silly prank at first but it’s clearly not,” she replies with a furrowed brow. “There were five wizards. They were in the Court of Sorcery, perhaps the most wondrous place I’ve ever seen in my life so far… They were in some kind of tower sanctum — an ossuary, or maybe a temple? Full of bones, coffins, and a burning tree. The wizards were… Well, they weren’t exactly undead, but they weren’t living either, even though they’re immortal. They said this was a test, that we had to fight and fell each of them to get the stuff back, that they’re doing this because someone hired them.”
“Oh? Who was it?”
“I don’t know. All they were willing to say was that the client came from the Twilight Court. Someone who was impressed with Lady Oziah’s battle with a necromancer, or something. That…made her and her girlfriend very upset.”
The amused expression on Jaezred’s face drops immediately and a deep frown takes its place. He too knows what this means. But before Zola could ask, he says, “Thank you, Miss Oussviir. You will have to excuse me, I must attend to my friends at once. Where are they now?”
“Uh, the Court of Silence. In the lounge in the big tree.”
“Right. Thanks, once again. Here.” He puts the cloth-wrapped bundle in her hands. “Scones and blueberry preserve, for you and your mothers. Apologies, it is but a humble offering for I had no time to bake a bigger batch.”
She smiles at him. “Thank you! Well, see you at church tomorrow?”
He makes a groaning sound and a flippant wave of the hand as he walks past her, towards the teleportation circle platform. For all of his performative reluctance, she knows that he will be there, sitting in the backmost pew come service tomorrow, as certain as the full moon will stay in the sky. She giggles to herself.
And then she remembers that she forgot to mention something. “Oh wait! There’s one other thi—” she exclaims as she whirls around, half a second too late. She had turned around just in time to see Jaezred’s form disappear through a portal.
Damn. She wanted to tell him about what she saw as they were leaving the Iridescent Tower: a tall figure standing almost hidden in the treeline, clad in dark furs and with a glowing, beastly head — just staring at her. When their eyes met, it slowly backed away into a beam of light, where its body seemed to become one with the light itself.
An extremely odd encounter, needless to say. But then again, it’s the Feywild — what else is new? It’s probably nothing, maybe they were simply a curious denizen of the court.
The Court of Sorcery… A place positively brimming with magic; a place so magical that it is supposedly the source of all magic in the entire Feywild, and the birthplace of the art of fey dealmaking.
There’s much that can be learned from a place like that, Zola thinks as she saunters over to the tabaxi mage. If only I could visit it again.
Art by Jessi Ochse on ArtStation