Open Chronicles A Spiring City

[Vulpesen]

Deep in the wooded wildlands of Malakath, the the spiring city of Veradune reached up through the trees, its towers reaching up to be seen from above the canopy like fingers reaching up from the surface of a pond. Here, Zorrens, humans, and fae, clawed out a living amongst the dangers of mother nature, enjoying her bounty and braving her perils. Its walls were subtle, a weave of enchantments and patrols meant less to keep out invaders, and more to ensure that the various deadly beasties beyond the city stayed out of the streets and homes.

Despite its wild location, there was a savage beauty that could be found in Veradune's bustling market place. The native Zorrens were a warrior people, but they fought at the direction of their lords, the Fae Triumvir of the Vitae Court. Weapons in this city weren't merely tools. They were art. Every honed edge and polished shield spoke to the love and dedication that their craftsmen put into the work. Walking through the various booths and Vendors, Vulpesen found himself admiring a set of daggers within a glass case, their gleaming blades of layered steel curving up from beautifully polished handles. His own weapons, being his leysteel sword, his own black bladed daggers, and his rugged hunting bow were fine enough for him, and his desire to keep his load light on the road prohibited any additional purchases. But that didn't mean he couldn't admire the artisanship before him.

 

[Tona]

Malakath was truly a beautiful land. A savage, deadly, and secret keeping land, but breathtakingly gorgeous to behold. And how much more so when seen from high above, where the clouds lived! Certainly it was easier to appreciate the continent's grace and charms when said charms were too far away to even think about trying to devour one whole, but all that such safety in fact accomplished in this regard was to free one from distractions and give them the mental space required to truly appreciate the view. Hardly could it be said to be merely physical that when Tona flew so high up, he really was in Heaven.

To be utterly unshackled from the cares of surface dwelling life, for however brief the span of time was something that those born without wings might never hope to experience. Such a tragedy was enough to place pangs of grief in one's heart and bring tears to one's eyes. Surely that must be why whatever gods or powers that made them gave the land dwellers such long lives-even the humans- so that they might just have the chance to learn to fly. Nothing else made any sense when you looked at things from up here.

Suddenly filled with nervous energy and the swelling of emotions, the quill gave vent to it by launching into a series of aerial maneuvers. Starting with a barrel roll, which saw his body spin as his flight pattern went into a series of front-flips and created a corkscrew shape of flying. And he continued the barrel roll twice and three times over before he started to get almost dizzy and went into an intentional descent. He held back his wings, streamlining his descent towards the treeline below.

This kind of controlled falling was dangerous even for some experienced flyers. If you gathered to much speed on the way down then you could easily lose control and it could become impossible to right yourself again. If you lacked the strength and muscle-control to and extended your wings just a hair to the wrong angle then the force of the wind itself could snap you like a twig. Especially at the speeds Tona was achieving.

As the trees grew closer, and closer, so multiplied the myriad chances that something might go wrong. But Tona showed no fear of death nor dismemberment at the hands of folly and the elements. Instead he only waited.

And waited....

And when the tops of the trees were so close he could smell the fragrance of pheorwood and arkhyleth flowers. Only then did he spring into action, extending his wings and shifting his tail such he turned into a flight path parallel to the ground in no time. The tree tops mere feet below him as he left them in the dust. Now that was how you gathered speed!

And a good thing too, for just after the quill had turned up from the treeline and flew off to the southwest, a gigantic reptilian mouth reached up from the forested realm below and attempted to turn the flying feathered reptile into a refreshing snack. And, feeling a bit cocky over escaping the jaws of death so fluidly, he was caught quite off guard when he suddenly found himself flying over a town that he could have sworn hadn't been there but a moment ago. This so shook his mind that for a moment he didn't even react at all. Not good considering that he was heading straight for one of the taller buildings at great speed.

But turning his body sideways at nearly the last minute once again, he managed to slip through a narrow space between buildings, and regain control of his flight. Emerging from the narrow passage he righted his body once more and quickly flew into the performance of an inside loop just to begin to slow his speed a bit.

A few houses later and he had slowed enough to fly upwards and then gently, if flappingly, descend and perch upon one of the triangular roofs of the strangely elegant looking buildings here. This would give his heart a chance to slow its beating speed, which was now much faster than was his recent flying. And it would also give him a chance to observe the market place below and hopefully get his bearings. He couldn't remember this town being on any maps, but that wasn't uncommon for cities and kingdoms on this continent. But perhaps, as was usually the case, curiosity could best be served by observation.

Vulpesen