2023-03-15 Long Time, No See - Wik
Apr 2, 2023 0:12:21 GMT
Jaezred Vandree, Riah, and 3 more like this
Post by Wik on Apr 2, 2023 0:12:21 GMT
The Homecoming Job
The Persona
Ylana Lightmane
High Elf. Pale skin, long dark hair.
Adult. 120 years old.
High Elf. Pale skin, long dark hair.
Adult. 120 years old.
The Mark
The Court of Fountains.
Home.
Home.
The Plan
Rux and Yom never speak about the Court. They don't talk about why we left, or why we can't go back.
The Court of Harmony... it reminded me that I can go whenever I like. Maybe it is time to return, and see what time has made of the place.
Now, I just need to come up with a reason for some others to join me... I'm sure a forged notice from the Academy will work just fine.
Points of Interest
A. The magnificent fountain at the centre of the Court, both literally and figuratively. Water of all colours flows through and around it casting shimmering waves of light on the immediate surroundings. The fountain itself is big enough to wade through, and perfect for taking selfies.
B. At the top of the grand staircase within the fort stands a giant cylindrical aquarium containing a flowing and shifting plant.
C. Further inside the fort, an archway of stone and water stands in the middle of a hallway. The water casts shadows on the wall, and in the right light, it almost looks like a figure...
D. The office of Commander Darunia Daruth is filled with bookshelves and weapons racks. The books look well-read; the weapons, well used and well aged.
E. In the middle of a forest outside of the fort, in the centre of a small clearing, lies a small stump.
The Result
- The group that answered my (very well executed) forgery (Lilia, Blessed, Lolli, Anåbæl, and myself) arrive at the Court of Fountains after convincing the attendant in Portal Plaza that the Academy that so dutifully called us out neglected to file the proper paperwork.
- Blessed recruits Lolli to take some selfies in the fountain.
- I stare into the water that flows out of the fountain and around our feet. My reflection, which looks like Ylana Lightmane today, stares back at me. It moves; I don't. It's eyes are piercing blue. Mine are not.
- Lilia informs us that there is activity within the nearby fort. We agree to enter, and see who resides within.
- From an alcove, a figure with plain, grey skin and very few discernible features emerges. They sign something quick with their hands, and leave, returning with a tall elf woman.
- I produce the forged notice. Darunia seems confused, but professional. Olivia (Darunia's squire, the grey-skinned figure from before) points something out. Darunia demands we all go to her office.
- We make our way up the grand staircase and into the rest of the fort. I take a quick selfie with Blessed in the shadow of the towering aquarium.
- We enter a long hallway. In the middle is an archway of water and stone.
- The others continue ahead. Lolli and I remain behind.
- In the archway, parts of a high-elven woman appear, smokey and grey. A spectral hand reaches out, a finger splayed to touch my own as it slowly extends to meet it.
- Olivia stops me from touching the spectral figure. I turn back to it, and it disappears.
- We enter the office of Darunia Daruth, who explains that the fort is haunted by a ghostly figure. One that looks like Ylana. She tells us that the notice the others received was a forgery (note: determine how Olivia was able to determine this.) She asks a favour of us anyway - determine the source of and let the spectre rest. She informs us of the story of the Court, and Lord Trevillian (see Appendix I).
- Olivia receives a sign from Darunia and then calls down a sheet of water in front of the office's entrance. She steps through, and disappears.
- The spectre haunting the fort is thought to be one of Trevillian's victims. Possibly, one that was affected differently from the others.
- We return to the hallway from before. Ahead, the spectre appears once more and begins to float away.
- She is more visible this time. A slash across her chest. Flowing black hair.
- Each of the party attempts to slow the spectre's movement. In turn, they each receive a glimpse of a memory (see Appendix II).
- The spectre causes a shimmer of water to cover a doorway, and slips through. The party follows.
- We enter a forest, at the edge of a small pool of water. The spectre flits between trees, disappearing behind one and re-appearing behind another.
- Each of the party attempts again to slow and catch the spectre. Once more, they each receive a glimpse of a memory (see Appendix II).
- In the middle of the forest sits a clearing. In the middle of the clearing sits a stump, and atop the stump is a heart, still beating slightly from the light that hums from within it.
- The party gathers around the heart and the rose that wraps around it. Lilia begins a ceremony. From the trees, sylphs begin to gather.
- From the heart, the spectre emerges. It shares with the party clearer memories (see Appendix II).
- The sylphs whisper.
They believe themselves to be beautiful,
but it is a beauty like a golden stag's carcass.
Swollen with maggots,
ready to burst.
but it is a beauty like a golden stag's carcass.
Swollen with maggots,
ready to burst.
Our sister.
She is lost.
She cannot be free.
Save her.
Free her.
She is lost.
She cannot be free.
Save her.
Free her.
As one, the sylphs turn to Ylana, the one of flesh and blood. As one, they whisper to her alone.
Let her go.
Ylana kneels in front of the spectre, the true Ylana. She raises two fingers to her lips, and from the point of contact her skin begins to ripple. The valley of each ripple is Ylana as she has ever been. The peak of each ripple is different - the skin is grey, and devoid of features. The long black hair shortens and turns white. The brown eyes, a mistake in the copying, turn white and take on a low glow.
The ripple moves across Ylana's whole body until the figure no longer looks like Ylana. It gathers at the figure's lips, at the fingers placed there.
A whisper. You're free now. You can go.
I let you go.
The form, freely given, takes it's place around the broken spectre. Ylana, or what remains of her, forms in front of Wik, whole once more. The sylphs gather, their hands tugging at the flowing white dress that she wears, asking her to come with them.
She smiles. A smile that Wik could never get quite right.
After all, there is nothing like the real thing.
Appendix I
Lord Trevillian
- Water Genasi.
- Position
- Former King of the Court of Fountains.
- Current Foot Soldier serving the River King Ulorian in the Wandering Court.
- Modus Operandi
- Trevillian was adept at using his charisma to attract the attention of many mortal lovers.
- Once his lovers found their way to the fort, Trevillian would begin to sap their life away in secret.
- Discovering the ruse came too late. Many lovers were drained of life and turned to sylphs before they could leave.
Appendix II
A memory.
A water sprite stands before the group, giving instructions for a job.
Ylana thinks that this will be fine. It always is.
This catches the Lord's eye. She's persuasive, but she didn't mean to be.
She leaves with her companions - two grey-skinned fey that switch to human forms.
A glance over her shoulder.
A quick glance.
Ylana thinks that this will be fine. It always is.
This catches the Lord's eye. She's persuasive, but she didn't mean to be.
She leaves with her companions - two grey-skinned fey that switch to human forms.
A glance over her shoulder.
A quick glance.
A memory.
She returns from the job.
Not the same job, but another.
A note, on a desk. From him, Lord Trevillian.
Notes of love and adoration for those he wishes to woo.
She's not read the first, and this isn't the first.
Nor the fifth.
Perhaps this time she will entertain him.
After all, she is curious.
Not the same job, but another.
A note, on a desk. From him, Lord Trevillian.
Notes of love and adoration for those he wishes to woo.
She's not read the first, and this isn't the first.
Nor the fifth.
Perhaps this time she will entertain him.
After all, she is curious.
A memory.
A heated moment in the hallway.
It means nothing to her, but so much to him.
This fey has gotten under her skin.
Her friends, her companions, they aren't comfortable with this relationship.
Discomfort? Or concern?
It means nothing to her, but so much to him.
This fey has gotten under her skin.
Her friends, her companions, they aren't comfortable with this relationship.
Discomfort? Or concern?
A memory.
The Thorn looks into a pool.
Blue eyes stare back, long black hair their frame.
The time with Trevillian is strangely draining.
It wears down her strength, her resolve, what makes her her.
She is running out of time.
Blue eyes stare back, long black hair their frame.
The time with Trevillian is strangely draining.
It wears down her strength, her resolve, what makes her her.
She is running out of time.
A memory.
"There are others. Dozens probably. Hundreds! Ash and root he's been doing this for centuries, and"
"You don't think I know?"
"If you know, then why? For all your cleverness you don't see he is drowning you."
"I am going to stop him, before he makes another one of those things that hunt us in the woods."
"You don't think I know?"
"If you know, then why? For all your cleverness you don't see he is drowning you."
"I am going to stop him, before he makes another one of those things that hunt us in the woods."
A memory.
It's tonight.
Her corsage. Her weapon, her namesake. A rose, and other plants of a thorny nature.
She is about to turn as her vision goes black.
She wakes, fingers feeling numb.
Her lungs are heavy.
Her body is weightless.
She sinks, down, down, down.
A cruel laughter ripples across her hardened skin.
The handsome face twists into a cruel smile, holding her heart in his hand.
You were always going to be the toughest.
You tried to fight me the best you could.
A whisper in the ear.
But I have far more experience with eternity, little Thorn.
Her sword pierces her heart, and she screams.
Her corsage. Her weapon, her namesake. A rose, and other plants of a thorny nature.
She is about to turn as her vision goes black.
She wakes, fingers feeling numb.
Her lungs are heavy.
Her body is weightless.
She sinks, down, down, down.
A cruel laughter ripples across her hardened skin.
The handsome face twists into a cruel smile, holding her heart in his hand.
You were always going to be the toughest.
You tried to fight me the best you could.
A whisper in the ear.
But I have far more experience with eternity, little Thorn.
Her sword pierces her heart, and she screams.