Welcome me to a haven given
it's well received into my open arms
I ran in my sleep through shaking tremors
I had the splitting earth echoing in my ears.
She could be beautiful if she tried, perhaps - as it is, she is merely
striking. The elven blood in her runs quite strongly, in the slant of her
cheekbones and the straight, lordly line of her nose, the curved tips of
her ears and her love of beauty. HUman heritage, however, has bulked out
her frame, making her more stocky than a true elf would be. Her attitude
is discouraging of the pursuit that might follow from her apeparance; in
fact, when she so chooses, she is a master of stereotypical elven disdain.
Her eyes are the grey-green of a misty spring morning in the forest, set
slightly aslant and giving her a slightly feline air of mysterious
contemplation. Her hair is a rich, dark red which glints golden in light
and ruddy brown in shadow. Her skin is darker than average, as if she has
spent much time in the sun - which is also, such as it goes, true.
She is prone to long silences, to watching the birds, to sudden bursts of
song. Her temper, though slow to appear, is a firestorm before the wind,
balanced on a tricky sense of honor and a pride subtle but distinctly
present. Her solemnity can be absolute enough to instill silence around
her; her joy, a much rarer thing, can bring a spot of brightness. She
wears greens, browns, and greys, forest-blending colors, and has a green
and grey mottled kerchief which she uses to tie back her hair so its curls
fall over her shoulders and not her eyes.
her leather armor is scored with battle-gashes and scratches, but
carefully and skillfully repaired. Both shoulders of the armor are scored
by the talons of falcons, though she bears only one bird, a large
silver-grey falcon with blue edgings to his featertips.
She carries a walking staff more often than not, cutting a new one every
so often when one has been discarded and she feels the wish for assistance
again. Slung over her back are a longsword and a longbow; a shortsword
(rather old) is at her hip and the hilts of daggers protrude from her
boot-tops. Her pack is small, and a harp case is strapped firmly to it.
Perry's History Perry
was born to a somewhat scattered elven mother, with one of the nomadic
family groupings of the New World. Her father, a half-elf also with the
tribe, was her mother's earliest liason, and Perry was for some time
resented for being a bit in the way (her mother being rather young, more
than a little bit foolish, and utterly feckless). Lacking, as she
did, stable points in her childhood, Perry naturally gravitated towards
the more solid members of her small community, eventually latching onto
the elder Loremaster for her tribe. With simple stubbornness, she began
to learn, not only the basic woodsman's skills that all her family had, but the histories, the stories, the lores, and all of the other things that were truly lasting.
While knowing she had not the keenness of mind or the years of the Lorekeepers, perry honed, at least, her memory to near-perfect recall, and mastered all of the rituals and commemorative songs. She learned to ride, she learned the bow, she learned the s
word and knife.
After a time, the Loremaster, knowing that Perry hungered for learning and understanding, told her to go and study the art with a certain other elven Bard, giving her directions to the last of his known haunts. Eager to follow the directives of her elder
s, Perry went.
En route, the young half-elf managed to earn herself the grace and attention of Argent, who is her companion in all things. The falcon and she are near inseparable, each being edgy when forced to spend time apart from the other, and her care of the bird
exceeding her care of even her bow and other weapons, which she keeps in perfect condition. She does not tell the story of how she and the bird came together.
Not finding her named instructor, Perry chose to join the world outside her family. It seemed to her that to return to the tribe as she was, half-trained and unexperienced in the world, would make a waste of the life and training they had given her. The
refore, she set out to earn her place, to find what she might be able to bring back to her people.
It was in these self-set tasks that she met Finbar, who enters into the
next portion of her story.
The Game According to Perry
Finbar is a golden-haired elf of unknown origin, who gathers folk willing
to risk and willing to adventure to accomplish things that need doing. He encountered Perry, and asked her if she were willing to investigate the disappearances of some villagers, adding, apologetically, that it was Town Work. Perry has a low opinion of
towns, as they tend to keep her from Argent, but nodded her acquiescence.
She was introduced, then, to one Sir Zev Redwind, another half-elf, and a quiet human named Saro. The party was a quiet group, and, as Finbar went off to find someone else, they trailed through the forest on their own. Perry was, it is fair to note, uni
mpressed with Zev's simple assumption that everyone was impressed with him; he was equally unimpressed by her refusal to be impressed.
The little group's first encouter was with, of all thigns, a six-legged cat, which attempted to eat Saro -- who promptly vanished. Perplexed, the beast turned, and Zev exploded something, which sent it running off. Perry, who had been investigating the
sounds of the creature's approach, did not see a thing, a fact which Zev took as cowardice. After several attempts at rebuttal, Perry came to the conclusion that Zev was too thickheaded to argue with, and retreated to familiar silence.
At the next twon they encountered Finbar, and a white-haired elf with little language, but a big stick (with a crescent on the end). Zev immediately decided that Gwynedd's lack of language meant that he was a fool, and decided to ignore him; Perry, on th
e other hand, considered that if Zev disliked someone, it was a good enough reason to attempt friendship.
After the resolution of the missing people - predation by a man-cat, as Gwynedd termed the thing - a shapeshifter of some sort - Perry managed to make trustworthy enough noises to Gwynedd that he let her in on his secret, through telepathic conversation.
That secret being, in significant part, that Gwynedd was not, in fact, an idiot.
In the sequences of encounters that followed, Perry got better at interpreting her friend's incoherences of language, and, for her own part, started to use fewer words - words being a habit she was not used to, being generally a loner.
Zev, in his perpetual desire to act, gathered rumours of other disappearances, and, claiming them as his realm of expertise, walked off to investigate. While Perry was not satisfied that the situation was resolved, and had wished to investigate more, the
re was no sense or honor in letting Zev go off alone - whether she liked him or not, he was a comrade in arms. So she prepared to follow, as did Gwynedd (mostly for the same reasons, so far as she could tell).
On their way to the place of the other disappearances, they encountered an ambush of strange creatures - all of which died, but some of which came back. This was upsetting. However, the party patched itself up, more or less, and walked in to the town.
Into another town - this one larger - and therefore more unpleasant. Throughone of the typical confusions of language, Gwynedd misplaced himself; Perry decided then that she would keep a close eye on him, and he seemed to decide to keep an eye on her, in
case he wanted to know where he was.
Investigations led them over a hill and through the woods, finding there a cave. This cave was proven to be artificial (Gwynedd poked at a brick) and contained in its depths, doors with dark and frightening runes (translated by Gwynedd through Perry).
The group returned, later, with reinforcements, and found more lizard-men, this time taking a prisoner with them back to the town. Questioning the next day was conducted by - of all people - Gwynedd, whose native tongue was akin to the Slig's. Perry, on
ce again, translated, finding this useful; while she wasdoing this, Finbar reappeared, dropped a cleric into their midst, and vanished again.
Perry, talking to the new elf, who went by Biting Rain, asked him to put the fear of god - any god - into Zev, considering that an understanding of mortality might do theother half-elf some good. Rain did not understand; at least not just then.
Then the expedition entered the caves again, with the Slig leading the way to a strange darkness, which theparty breached. The darkness proved inhabited by an ancient vampire, who wishedto reignite a long-forgotten war which was Gwynedd's hobby of explor
ation (and which was rapidly becoming Perry's).
Gwynedd shared his telepathy with the group, in order to explain the situation to them, and proved himself to not be an idiot. Perry was, mind, mildly wistful over the loss of this secret, but not much, for it was needed. She did, however, point out to
him that he was sounding quite insufferably smug.
The group fought the vampire, and lost, letting it loose on the universe. Saro was sent to warn the town, while the remainderof the group carried the wounded and the dead to the surface (the wounded including Zev,who Perry quietly thought might be the be
tter off for a brush with something that proved him not invincible).
Another secret, this one Perry's, was loosed,a bit regretfully, but,again, needful - a sequence of musical notes that called Argent in to guard. (Saro played them, as the more physical members of the party were needed to carry bodies.)
After playing her dirges to the dead, her memorials, and her musical warning to the world from the rooftop of the healer's house, and speaking with Rain on the meaning and need for rituals of such kinds, Perry wentand bought paper. Words, never her stron
g point without the music of understanding, needed to be noted, until she could find the music in them, and therefore comprehend.
Perry is very confused. About a large number of things. However, upon
reaching the mage tower, her confusion at least solified into several
particular realms of chaos, which she is far the more happy about.
First of all, Gwynedd spoke - far more coherently than ever before - on a
variety of subjects, sharing his thoughts and knowledge, as well as his
secrets. Perry holds close a few of the other things which she holds
private and secure in this, just because the knowledge is precious to her.
Her knowledge of magic of all sorts, of the crafting of spells, and such
things, is expanding in leaps and bounds, and she is beginning to grasp the
edges of Gwynedd's language. That knowledge she holds to and devours, in
all practicality, finding in these words more expression and capability than
the words she knows.
Her other confusions, however, she keeps silent, only expressing them in
peculiar moments of silence and strange musics. She is currently working
over, mentally, a tune of almost epic proportions and elegant simplicity,
this occupying much of her early mornings, after her now habitual greeting
of the sun.
Perry rests well, and is awake early, in these times at the mages' Tower;
she planned one night to use this ability to slip outside and get some
time
to think. However, she was wakened in the stray hours of the night by
metal
on metal clashes - the distinctive sounds of a fight. She was down the
stairs directly behind Gwynedd, who followed Biting Rain (who hadn't
stopped
to finish putting on his armor, and was running while trying to finish
pulling it on).
Upon rounding the Tower, it seemed that a scraggly band of villagers were
attempting to beat their way past the Tower guard, which was in a strong
defensive position around the gates. Rain looped around to go at one of
them, and Gwynedd charged the way Perry thinks of him charging when he is
absolutely certain that his enemy should not remain standing. Trusting
that
judgment, she likewise charged, Argent looping in after her.
Perry rarely has much to say about battle - it was a fight. After she and
Argent downed one opponent, she circled around to see what she could do
with a bow, in time to see Gwynedd in a state in which he should not have
been able to be vertical - or conscious - near Rain. She told him to sit
down, and put an arrow into the back of the maul-weilding vampire that had
hit him.
It is possibly valuable to note that an entire paean of invective can be
composed against the ancestry, origins, final destination, and general
habits of all opponents which discorporate, teleport, vanish, turn
invisible, regenerate and crawl off after being rendered effectively dead,
and other asociable habits which the average adventurer would find
distressing. Perry is seriously considering writing it. In three
languages.
While various people engaged in a council of war - of sorts - about what
to do, Perry herself retreated to a place where she would not be disturbed
(most likely) to think. Zev asked her later where she was - "The guards'
dining room." What she was doing - "Finding things out." What she found
out - "Nothing new." She was not entirely certain how to explain the vast
amount of processing that went through her mind in that particular
retreat. However, having made thoose thoughts, she did pull Gwynedd aside
the next day to give him a word - Aobheil - which means 'the joyous one.'
She also ordered him not to go and get himself killed, because it upset
her.
The group proceeded towards the continent-dividing chasm - an inquiry to
Gwynedd about it, and an extracted promise to get the story. Then, the
group settled in order to discuss what to doa bout the gap. Gwynedd knew
there was a bridge. "I find things." "It would help if you remembered
where you put them." (He shrugged.)
Gwynedd did his hawk trick, turning into a whopping great bird. And got
stuck. This reduced Perry to near hysterical breakdown for a variety of
reasons, so much that she nearly couldn't get across the point that even
if she was going to help, she wasn't likely to be able to help when he was
on the other side of the chasm.
Some insanity later - Argent was sent scouting for a bridge, and returned,
proudly, with a stick - the product of a serious problem in translation
and a birdbrain. The Gwynedd-bird went scouting the other way and, true
to form, got lost.
Zev made noises about wanting to push on. Perry climbed a tree. On the
dawn watch, a very confused pack of wolves appeared. Perry told Rain she
bowed to his superior wisdom - wolves are his realm, falcons are hers -
and stayed in the tree she had been keeping watch from. What could
confuse an entire pack of wolves? Gwynedd. She stopped worrying, more or
less, and, when told, "Gwynedd sent the wolves. He found the bridge," she
acknowledged the finding the bridge was news, and sent Argent to go look
after her friend. (Someone always has to.)
Travel was uneventful and wet, until a sound disturbed Saro's watch, and
the party was wakened. A pair of... things, hard to see, even by
heat-sense, assaulted the party, managing to knock Perry out. The elven
hawk made as to chase the one that attempted to make off with her, but
Rain's spear managed to knock it out, and she was revived (to the point of
mild grogginess).
Gwynedd then told Perry that she shouldn't complain at him about getting
himself killed, which she found rather droll. She was also somewhat
perplexed by the fact that he healed her - not as much as the cleric, but
significantly. This occupied her thoughts through a
things-that-go-bang-in-the-night incident (Zev's moment in watch duty) and
the eventual progress to a confluence of rivers.
Crossing the river involved a raft. A raft was built. The tower as
guarded by grumpy uninformative people who didn't seem all that interested
in conversation. Saro was taken off to talk with them, and everyone else
was locked in a room. Perry played flute music, and kept Argent hooded.
They left. In the night, there were flashes of light back twoards the
tower; Rain ran back to find out what was going on, and the rest of the
party followed a bit more slowly. The Tower had been attacked, and no,
they weren't interested in help or more information.
Nobody was much surprised by a fight with more vampires. Perry got
herself knocked out; Saro got herself almost-killed but not quite.
Recuperation proceeded anon. "I worry being away," says Gwynedd, and
Perry wants to know, "This is away?"
Zev wanted to get a job and get paid. Perry, feeling somewhat more bound
to doing something immediately helpful, wanted to return to the mage tower
(a thought gathered after discussion of Gwynedd). It was eventually
determined that it would probably be best to proceed down the river to the
city and get a boat north from there rather than going and looking for the
bridge over the chasm again.
Zev acquired a youngster who seemed eager to follow the group around.
Rain thought the youngster might be interested in learning interesting
things - after all, he was raised next to the southern mage tower, and
Saro's Grey Tower was more than something of a secret.
Eventually they got to Evelyn. Perry took perhaps twenty minutes to
decide she dislikes cities more than she dislikes towns, and proceeded to
feel vaguely oppressed. After some wanderings, they wound up at the
temple of Niana.
The priestess of Niana was a distinguished woman, who apologized greatly
for not listening. Gwynedd left in a rage - Perry followed, with a
Parthian shot about the fact that her word was the only coin she
considered of worth. She spoke with Gwynedd, quietly, outside the temple,
fending off overhelpful underpriests who wanted to help and make
sympathetic noises, but not actually accomplish anything. Perry, having a
low tolerance for hypocrisy, and having lost her temper in a manner worthy
of the redhead she is, pointed out that failing to belive was equivalent
to murder in a rather loud voice, and drew funny looks. She didn't care,
though - if the opponents of the undead could not rouse themselves to deal
with a plague of vampires....
After that unnerving sequence of events, Perry insisted on going to the
temple of Saran, the Hawklord. With a whistle, she called Argent to her
hand, stalked in, occupied the central courtyard, tilted her head back,
and sang. The prayer was written for the moment, heartfelt, and joined by
Gwynedd once he figured out what tune she was using. Feeling thus
somewhat fortified, she ducked back to the lodgehouse of the Order of the
Leaf, and, after some invective in several languages, wrote a message to
be taken to the Grove of Dei, which she did not have time to visit.
Finally, the city could be left, in a smallish boat which skimmed along
towards the north. Perry mostly kept out of the way, occasionally
climbing when it was deemed permissable or helpful to do so. Storms
struck - the Sea Witch was deemed responsible - and aside from a brief
argument with a handful of zombies - the trip to Grosken was more or less
uneventful.
As it so happened, the officials of Grosken weren't worried about
vampires. Only the one town had fallen. Therefore, it was not aproblem
for any other towns, let alone the government as a whole. This logic
being completely beyond Perry, she gave up on making sense of it. After
some discussion with the entire party about what to do about Derien, she
also gave up on that, and went to talk with him on her own, gathering
information and generally poking at the situation until she found an
ethical solution - which also showed signs of being productive towards
getting the civil authorities to start thinking about the blasted
vampires.
The party was thus divided - Derien staying behind to assist the titled
Zev in knocking sense into the powers that be, while the others returned
to the Grey Tower for a winter of training. The trip there was unplagued
by the undead - a more mundane opponent, the old friend the six-legged
cat, being the only serious problem (though it was rather serious, in its
own way).
The winter passed in study, training, and other equally predictable
exercises. Perry, finally getting at least a small grip on the
heart-magic, is pleased with that portion of her studies - among other,
quieter things.
The various parties reunited come spring, and, oddly enough, encountered
ye olde friende Finbar at the Order of the Leaf, asking him to come along
for a bit on the latest jaunt off to Accomplish Something. He was just
leaving; he said sure.
On the journey out of town to accomplish said something, however, the
party was, once again, waylaid by darkness-loving unionists. Failing as
it did to follow the party line, most everyone got beaten bloody, Finbar
irrevocably so. His blade fell to Perry.
Encamping up against a river and pondering matters, Perry leaned up
against Gwynedd (perplexing him a bit) and inspected the blade. Knowing
it was a magic blade was a good start, and, despite her grogginess from
being only slightly mobile, she managed to pull up a rather impressive
story about it - one which was old enough for Gwynedd to also know.
The first disturbance that evening was an owl. The second was an elf,
enquiring about the location of Aobheil. Perry put her bow down, hauled
herself to her feet, and bowed. "Grandmother," she said, introducing to
the party her great-grandmother, Toimhseachan ben Foghnan-Creag, leader of
her tribe. Grandmother shared a few vampire rumours, and helped in the
battle to drive off the interloper when he appeared.
Evidently, the vampires found an artifact - a harp - currently in the
keeping of Sruthan bar Foghnan-Creag, loremaster of the tribe.
Grandmother, unhappy about being evicted from the planned wintering
grounds, took it as payment for the irritation.
Once again, though, the party divides. Zev (in the company of a young
priest and Derien) shall go to Dragon Island to pump Dwarves for
information. Gwynedd and Saro shall return to the Grey Tower in order for
a teleportation to be arranged to Farhain; Perry's sole comment on that
was, "Come back to me." The remaining - Perry herself and Rain - will be
returning with Grandmother to the lands of Clan Foghnan-Creag to discuss
the harp and Polaris, the sword, with Uncail Sruthan. This has, to
Perry's mind, the added benefit of giving her a chance to discuss a few
things with her family on a point of private honor.
On the way to the northwest, Perry and Rain had many long and involved
talks; Grandmother taught Perry magic in the odd moment of free time.
Rain managed to get a blush out of Perry once; on the whole, though,
conversation and travel continued without incident.
Time with the family was spent productivcely - having resolved a matter of
honor by speaking to the clan elders, Perry also got Rain somewhat adopted
(leading many of her female cousins to chase him mercilessly). Training
with Grandmother occupied most of her time - working with sword and magic
both, until she gained some proficiency. Enough proficiency, in fact, to
call out to the wilds and summon a familiar - a hawk answered the call,
shadowy grey in colour; Perry named her Faileas.
Finally, Rain and Perry returned to Grosken to reacquaint themselves with
the rest of the party, who had been productively engaged, each in their
own way. That done, plans were made to find and excavate the ruins of one
of the long-abandoned mage towers.
Saro decided to go to Wizard Mountain - for the big D himself had appeared
and, through a show of magical technique, been elected as their head.
Gwynedd bopped her upside the head with his staff as comment; Perry's sole
comment was, when she was asked for the borrow of her shortsword, "Can you
use it at all?"
The rest of the party proceeded to the Grey Tower. Perry presented
Artificer Melody with the blade and the harp, which had been entrusted to
her by her uncle. She also gave a forty-minute lecture on what she knew
about them - history, theory, magical schools, powers.
The next day, Ze'ev was all up and raring to go back to Grosken to fetch
Saro. Perry steadfastly refused to leave - not without her sword, for
practical reasons - and not without the harp, for reasons of honor. (To
do so would violate her family's entrustment of the item with her.) Ze'ev
said, "We decided that..." and was interrupted with, "No, you decided
that." The argument went to a standstill, but Perry and Gwynedd stayed at
the tower to learn about the items, while a delegation of warriors and
priests (oh my!) went off to Grosken to fetch Saro (who was already there,
and wondering where the hell everyone was).
Saro had a pleasant chat with Draklothari, who invited to teach her - for,
he said, she had the potential to learn both the mind magic of Gwynedd's
people and the heart magic she already knew. Saro turned him down for her
own reasons - but not before he told her that he felt that magic should
only be taught to those who had the potential for both paths.
Anathema to Perry; anathema to Gwynedd; source of a good shouting match.
Meanwhile, the artificer told Perry about her magical items - that the
sword was especially enchanted to destroy unnaturally constructed
monsters, also was deadly to dragons (which don't exist), and a great
number of things that Perry had told her at the outset. With regard to
the harp, she was told that the instrument was a blend of three forms of
magic (which she had told the artificer) and that to play it keyed the
magic (suspected but not known) and absolutely nothing else. "But I told
you all that." "Well... I didn't believe you." "My uncle would be
disappointed."
In the meanwhile, Perry read her first spell scroll, working a form of
magic on Faileas to open the bird more to the influences of the familiar
spirit.
Perry and Gwynedd had something of an argument - as she felt that he
worried overmuch on subjects which he could not do anything about, to the
neglect of other things that might very well need doing. The discussion
went back and forth fairly nonproductively for a while, until she gave up
in frustration and politely delcared that it was time for her to go fly
the hawks.
Some discussion happened - discussing events with the Archmage of the Grey
Tower. Gwynedd commented that he worried that his entire people might
have been destroyed, and pointed out in an aside to Perry that that was
why he worried. Perry winced, and took his hand, and said nothing -
keeping her thoughts very close at the time, for many and varied reasons,
even if she does have things she wishes to say.
At the end of this, the party - including 'the kids' - Derien and Shane -
proceeded into the basement of the Tower (Derien and Shane having taken
oaths to allow their presence) to look for the Tower's raena-staff. After
some exploration (and killing of monsters that appeared long enough to die
and sort of vanish again, but did very real damage), Gwynedd found a hole
in the wall - which opened into a chamber containing an invisible dagger
and an invisible broadsword (which were later given to the Artificer to
'look at'.)
Feeling battered and broken, the party returned the way they came, through
an incidental fight (/never/ argue with a high-level paladin with a
two-handed sword, as the salamanders learned, but nowhere near quickly
enough), and started poking that room for secret chambers as well.
Gwynedd (of course) found it, climbed in (doing a metamorphic trick to do
so) and flung out a five-pointed staff, like a trident - the Tower's
raena.
Gwynedd was, once again, insufferably smug for a very long time. Perry
asked him - and Rain - that evening for assistance with an experiment
during the day of down time between explorations into the basement of the
tower - for she wishes to understand the harp.
Experimenting with the harp failed somehow to be helpful. However,
nothing exploded, so Perry was satisfied enough with that - and, knowing
that it is is a particular song as well as intent and need combined that
activate its magic, has now started keeping it in tune and playing it
quietly, mostly scales and exercises, to keep it and herself in good
condition - for an instrument unplayed tends to lose its tone.
The next expedition into the basement of the Grey Tower was punctuated by
a wall - which fell into the room the party occupied, dividing them in the
middle of battle. Perry was in the midst of swearing at the new wall and
poking at it with magic when a collection of mechanical scorpions appeared
- devices which she referred to later as "Psychotic dwarven
boot-polishers" - they were metal things, therefore dwarven, after all.
Finally, it was decided by consensus that the basement was annoying and
nonproductive. So an expedition was mounted to go to the site of one of
the staves - the one to the east, which was guessed to be on Dragon isle.
Gwynedd was particularly interested in finding it, for it seemed to be
calling to him (and occasionally he to it, though that tended to knock him
out and upset Perry).
After passing through Grosken, things were uneventful until the party was
attacked by three rocks with legs (rocks got legs?). Two were driven off
- one fled with the broken form of Derien. Tracking the monster found
only a piece of chainmail. Perry still followed, until the trail became
indecipherable - at which opints she climbed a tree and played her dirges,
softly, to the winds.
A patrol was noted - Gwynedd approached it. Two crossbow bolts sank into
the ground at his feet. When he didn't stop, Perry swore a little, and
grumbled (loudly) until he stopped. After a while, the group returned to
camp to rest until dawn and then proceed - quieter, as a whole. (Rain
asked Perry if she was interested in revenge. "On a rock?" she replied,
in complete confusion.)
Gwynedd made another attempt to get information from the eastern staff -
stood, and took a few steps east before stopping himself. It was pulling,
not just calling. Rain made worried noises about this to Perry.
However, things got worse - for on the watch a few days later, Gwynedd
climbed down from his tree and walked out of camp. Perry threw rocks at
Rain until he woke up, and said, a bit shortly, "I'm going to follow
Gwynedd. Keep watch." That done, she stalked out of the clearing to the
northwest, and picked up the trail.
She found him in a clearing, asleep - without the raena. After a long
moment's contemplation, she woke him. And got the unbelievable story that
a dragon had called him out of camp and put him to sleep - and stolen the
staff. Drawing Polaris, she made a circuit of the clearing - and found no
signs of a dragon's presence. As a tracker, the absence of tracks was
profoundly offensive to her - but there was no denying the staff was gone,
and she does not doubt Gwynedd's word in any matter of import.
They returned to camp - Faileas had returned some time before, to indicate
that things were well by the simple recourse of not demanding that they
follow her anywhere. People were all awake. There was not much time
until dawn, so packing up and moving out mostions were made. Two days
later, dwarves were found.
While discussing Dragon Island, Perry suggested silently to Faileas that
she go check it out - after talking to Gwynedd briefly, who knew what she
was doing. The bird - under a directive to be careful - glided out the
window and soon vanished over the sea. She spent the rest of the day idly
involved in the conversation, but mostly watching the window. Gwynedd
rested his hand on her shoulder; she curled her fingers over it, taking
that reassurance in the midst of her worry. However, the hawk returned,
perplexed and in need of soothing.
So, after some discussion about dragons and other such vagaries of
history, and Perry rooting through her mind for songs about dragons (of
which there weren't any) and getting irritable, a boat was procured, and
the island was approached. Gwynedd turned into a large hawk (knowing
hawks well from association with Perry, of course) and flew up and around
the cloaking fog - Faileas followed to keep an eye on him for Perry. He
dove into the fog - and was lost from the hawk's sight.
Lacking anything better to do, the party proceeded to row around the
island. ("After all," it was argued, "Gwynedd won't know where we are
anyway.") Perry, getting short-tempered, started to climb the wall - got
forty feet up, slipped, and fell. Rain helped her back into the boat -
she wrung out her shirt, and, when feeling dry, tried again - to achieve
about the same point before falling. Rain, after inspecting the utter
glassiness of the wall, was impressed she got that far. She was about to
try again, when a giant hawk plummeted over the edge of the island,
powerdiving for the ocean.
So they rowed for the landing spot and fished Gwynedd out. He was tired -
Saro asked him if he wanted to sleep - he did. She mixed something very
odd, gave it to him. Nothing much happened. Then he fell over. Perry
tested the dregs, shrugged, and sat down next to him to take an oar and
return to the mainland. It was a while before he woke up, and she
curled up against him to sleep when she slept as well.
Then the party made for the island again - Gwynedd flew in again, and
pulled a rope up after him. Perry climbed the rope first, slipping once,
and then climbed down the wall on the other side. The others also made it
up without incident, and the party regathered inside the vast bowl which
was Dragon Island.
Exploration proceeded - though Orpheus smelled human. (Very odd - it
wasn't us.) Exploration proceeded. And then a man appeared in one of the
cave mouths. Perry told Rain to cover her, she was going to do something
foolish; she walked towards the cave mouth and watched the man. (Faileas
skimmed by the cave entry and said 'Big man with a sword. Like the other
big man with a sword, only older.')
And indeed, the man seemed a great deal like Ze'ev in appearance. He
named himself the Guardian of this place. Gwynedd asked if the man knew
anything about his staff - and the man went to look, leaving a miniature
dragon to watch the party. People talked to it; Perry got no answers,
though the others did.
Then the man returned with the staff. The party climbed out of the
island, retrieved the rope, and sailed away - though Ze'ev remained
behind, to speak with this man who might perhaps be his father. The
dwarves were confused.
Plans were made to send word to Derien's family of his death, and then the
party departed for the rift, escorted by dwarves. Then, onwards to
Grosken, where wandering around a great deal happened. Finally, gaining a
paladin (a cousin of Shane) and a few stray quiet rangers as additional
escort, plans were made to move on.
A few days passed, and nothing much happened. Then, many strange things
happened all at once. Perry, in truth, does not remember them well - she
remembers falling in a fight with a pack of tiny dogs, and feeling
life-force drain into her from Faileas. She remembers reaching to the
gift, hovering between life and death, before the shock of the passage of
life stopped her familiar's heart. She nearly died - again - from that
passage. Even now, she is not so certain she deserves to live.
She woke to the sound of music, which had been haunting her coma-dreams
for the several days of interlude between the battle, heard, recognized,
the sound of the Harp of Air - never mind that she was the only one who
could play harp in the party, Gwynedd had figured it out, which was
comforting to her.
But she was alone in her head, Faileas was gone. Her first word was the
bird's name, and they handed her the blanket-wrapped body, and she stroked
the feathers in silence. Gwynedd left her side, climbed a tree; Rain
spoke to her a little, about incidentals which she does not remember at
all.
The next day, she laid the bird's body on a pyre she struggled to build,
waving off any offers of help (though Shane fussed over her like a nervous
grandmother). She stood over the pyre, and spoke in carefully structured
words - which only Saro and Gwynedd could make sense of:
Then she went and knocked on the tree Gwynedd climbed. He didn't come
down. She sore at the tree a bit, hit it once, and staggered back to her
pallet to lie and watch the smoke from the pyre. The next day, though, he
came down, and let her hold his hand, which did some small smething
towards stilling her anger. She played no dirge on the flute, for this,
nor the harp - there is, it seems, little music to her now.
Travel beyond that was largely uneventful - another encounter with tree
trolls, spent productively invisible - new sorts of six-legged cats
arrived, cats with magics like Gwynedd's. Perry has no comment on the
matter, other than to internally cknoeldge their existence; Perry has very
little comment on much, in the ensuing time.
Perry is somewhat recovered - certainly physically well - two weeks after
Faileas's death; she is starting to joke a little, make a few sardonic
comments. She helps to fight off a horde of undead (only a little horde
of little undead) with almost enthusiasm.
Once camp is made, she takes out the Harp of Air, runs her fingers across
it to check its tuning (though it is never out of tune) and plays,
once-twice-three times through, the tune of the song that she woke to
hearing. Quietly, without expression, and then she puts the harp away
again.
From shadow she came, shadow her name, Saran's daughter, Faileas. She
taught much, loved much, gave her life in the saving of my own. May she
rest and find peace in the turning winds of the gods' lands.