Open Chronicles Festival of Lights: Illun Serath

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A small misundersanding, but it was no matter. He watched the lad with some humour as he responded, his pace slow as they made to return to their table. The new moniker and therein scramble to correct, all in jest, had him just wave his hand at it, dismissing what he had assumed as worry. No offense there to be taken, really.

It was strange to be spoken to in this way, with such enthusiasm. Despite not being the least sociable, quite the opposite on a good day, he found himself rather unaccustomed to being approached in this degree. So intensely, but not in any way unpleasantly.

“ In the Spring, yes. If anything urgent comes up at the Monastery, we’ll do it, but generally Winters are spent on planning and preparing. “ He responded, sitting down to his prior haunt.

“ We’re currently working on fixing and expanding the stables. Long overdue that, as often is with things that need be used on the daily. “ Inconvenience often be enough to inspire delay. Nothing unusual.

“ Speaking of Spring— “ Suddenly struck by a thought, he landed both his cup and an elbow on the table, leaning against it.

“ Is also a season to partake in many another thing than just renewed toil. I don’t suppose anyone has yet had the opportunity to inform you of the noble sport called Spell Breaker? “

Nacht
 
"Hmm, well, better late than never, but I agree that on time is better than late, of course." Nacht would say with a grin. He didn't much have talent for riding horses, but he was working on it. Perhaps he would be better suited to patching up the stables as opposed to making use of them? Well, none could tell until he got a chance to learn. However, what Aarno said next was very interesting, something he had not yet heard of. "No, not at all." he stated matter-of-factly, leaning in much in the same way Aarno had, eyes curious. "Sounds pretty interesting. Care to share?" he said, sipping a bit from his new round of tea.

Aarno
 
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“Memories to revisit?” Osuin replied. He wondered again if there was more beyond her words about the abandoned town she'd been raised in. Osuin merely added a nod. He could not say the same, his childhood of destitution and neglect was one he had gladly put behind him. Life then was bleak and directionless, and he was glad it was no longer so.

“I've never been back to the place I was raised. Can't say I've ever made plans to.” He replied, taking another swig from his tankard.

Monroe
 
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With all the goings on, the splash of the jumpers. The laughs, the warm crackle of fires, and the brilliant glitter of stars across the sky that painted the water, it was easy enough for Hector to get overwhelmed by the sensations. The shift of cold and heat that fluctuated about them.

"I do love your round little ears," he said, whisper soft, his lips keening towards them. Almost a secret, hushed only for those ears o hear.

As the boat rocked with the lap of the lake, he almost missed the question. How to get back up. The whole of him so alive with the press of a weight that had become so familiar to him. A comfort that helped him breath easy and sure. A warmth that twined and fed his own.

The ghost of Guernot's words echoed in his mind as the squires ventured back into the water. Hector blinked. His Chin about her shoulder.

"Don't tell Gruki," he said quiet as he turned his head toward the cliffs, pointed with his nose to a path, that snaked back and forth along one of the rocks. "But i think there is a path over there," his arms gave her a familiar squeeze. "We just have to swim to it I think,"

Lorinna Astarel
 
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“Memories to revisit?”

She shook her head, now picking up the tankard to finish it off. As she swapped the empty one for the second ale, Monroe frowned again. "Well... I wouldn't say it is for reminiscing." But she left it there.

There was no need to let the ale make loose lips of her, especially to one she only engaged in conversation with today.

"Well, what plans do you have? You are a Knight... a Pursuant?" She winced, trying to recall if that information was informed or a guess. "What does Osuin do in his day to day not practicing to ice skate?"

Osuin
 
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Monroe gave a brief reply, telling that there was more to her story that remained unsaid. Osuin listened as he took another swig of ale, wondering what circumstances she spoke of. She implied more than mere abandonment of the town, but she didn't expand any further. Between that and the fact that she had arrived to the order in her youth implied abandonment to be a euphemism for some greater disaster.

He gave a slight nod as he set down his tankard. Having sensed a possible tragedy, he didn't have the heart to pry potential old wounds open.

She asked of his plans, and noted that he was a pursuant. While she hardly seemed sure about it, she had gotten that fact right.

“Right, and well I have a daily routine like most others. Breakfast, then training, then lunch, then exercise, then dinner, then whatever other responsibilities I've got that day. Then I enjoy an ale and a couple of hours in my quarters. I'll usually cook a second dinner.” Osuin replied. The mess hall served his first three meals, but three hardly seemed enough.

Monroe
 
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Monroe stifled a snort by drinking, hiding her amused smile behind the tankard.

"I did not mean for you to detail... yes, I do see where you went wrong in not factoring in time to learn some hobbies." She snickered, unable to stop the chuckle.

His typical day was quite alike the ones others she knew adopted, but Monroe liked to fill her downtime with keeping her mind busy, getting outside despite the weather. She liked a challenge, she liked learning the needed skills to perfect an execution, much like she was doing now with her drawings. Monroe was no artist, but compared to her first book she filled, she had come a long way.

"I would ask for some recipes to share but I am an awful cook." She wasn't, not really. The basics were mastered, but she did not delve deep into the culinary world. Another time, perhaps, when she wanted to assault her taste buds.

Osuin
 
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"You sure do have a way with words, you know that, sailor?"

Nere's expression was funny as she sat there upon the ice, like she'd smelled something off. "Not a good enough way to keep everyone's attention," she mourned, watching the woman she'd run into leave the rink.

But in the watching, she got a better idea about how to get back on her feet. Mimicked the blind woman's motions - a fluid sweep of the leg back, and shifting the movement upwards to heave her weight to standing. It was not as graceful as the stranger had been. Nere's technique involved a lot more arm flailing and perhaps a panicked curse or two.

Alex was laughing when she finally got her balance back. Nere beamed, basking in the warm sound. Not an ounce of embarrassment plagued her body as she hitched a leg over the low fence that separated the ice rink from the walkway.

"Next time we're in a tough spot," she said, straddling the fence a moment. "Hope I hear you laughing just like that-- it'll make me feel like I can do anything."

Alexandra Alcantos
 
Monroe appeared amused enough at his reply. Osuin had quite unhesitatingly recited his full, typical routine. He was pretty sure he’d covered it all. After so many years in the order, they had become rather entrenched. Osuin was, among many things, a creature of habit. Train, study, fulfill duties, and sleep. He wasn’t one to maintain unstructured time. Not that he cared so much to keep busy, but that he’d grown accustomed to the routine.

Which had eroded the time he could have spent on hobbies. Like learning to ice skate, for one.

“I wasn’t either at first. I’ve got a few simpler recipes I could share, though.” Osuin commented. He had picked up and abandoned hobbies here and there. Carpentry had been among his first, and lasted until he’d built what furniture he wanted. He’d taken up brewing, but abandoned that upon realizing his future of drinking his own substandard ale. Cooking happened to be not only the craft he was best at, but the one that had given him the least cause to abandon it over the years.

It was always good to have an alternative to what the mess hall offered.

Monroe
 
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"I do love your round little ears," he said, whisper soft, his lips keening towards them. Almost a secret, hushed only for those ears o hear.

Lorinna was silent for a moment. Her quiet response caught in her throat. It was just a whisper by her ear, but the intimacy of it stole her breath.

"I like your one ear," Lorinna replied quietly, humour covering the way she was feeling.

"Don't tell Gruki," he said quiet as he turned his head toward the cliffs, pointed with his nose to a path, that snaked back and forth along one of the rocks. "But i think there is a path over there," his arms gave her a familiar squeeze. "We just have to swim to it I think,"

"I think if we need to swim again, I'd rather get on with it before I get too comfortable," she said, knowing that it was already too late. The idea of standing up and out of his arms, let alone throwing herself back into the cold, black water, was upsetting.
 
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"Right then," he said, with a casual, almost cheerful, resignation. He lingered with her just a moment longer as he looked out across the dark shimmer of the waters and all the plays of light that traced about it. Their own faces, morphed and changed with the lap of the ripples and waves.

"Though," he trailed with a hint of warmth in his breath, a low little rumble at the last stretch of the syllable. "It's awfully cold in there," he held her a little tighter. Let his weight sink into hers all the more. "Might be, my heart freezes over this time around, knowing how you only like my lonely ear," he smiled wide and conspiratorial.
 
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Monroe lifted a brow, amused, "Just how simple are we talking? Because I can assure you something will be charred." She wasn't gifted at it yet, and usually ate around the too far gone portions of her meals. "Only because I tend to do something else as I cook... and forget how much time has passed."

It wasn't an occasional thing she did, but one day she would like to broaden her repertoire of dishes.

"I hate to say it, but I am glad to have come along to Illun Serath." Cathmore's gaze went to review the surroundings, taking in the light music and the other gathered festival attendees chatting and drinking just like herself and Osuin. "I get to enjoy a drink well earned." She snorted lightly, hiding her slight smile as she takes a drink from the drink in question.

Osuin
 
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Care to share? Nothing would keep him from it, now that the topic had been broached. The curiousity was met with a grin, a subdued enthusiasm in his movements as he settled to sit up straighter.

“ Alright, so— “ He started, taking a sip from the tea. “ I won’t get too deep into the rules, as I believe serves you better if they be repeated closer to the game and therein afield when needed— “ Because believe you me— you are playing this game. He’d make sure of it.

“ But it is a team sport, of the bases, ball and bat persuasion, with the thrilling involvement of spells. Hence the name. “ Pretty interesting? A bloody understatement. He landed his cup on the table, betwixt where his elbows rested lest he knock it over.

“ The props of the game are enchanted and able to be manipulated by spellcasters, but— “ The ember of his stare flared, with something like mischief. “ There is a limit. It is upto communication within the team to tell wherein that bar lies at any given moment, or hazard penalty. The items will tell when such is due, the accumulation of spells ‘breaking’ them, which mainly manifests as a combustion. “ He made a gesture, wholly unbothered by the prospect.

“ So, obviously, the mages themselves need possess a degree of control. Finesse. Useful as a tool to practice, no? “ And motivate that it be done. Even if it as just to win at a game within the safety of the monastery walls.

“ As for the physical aspect, a bunch of running, throwing and swinging a rather elaborate stick. As such, there is a place in there for the likes of me who cast not at all or very little. “

And whose running ability varies by the day.

Nacht

ALSO, ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS AND DUE CREDIT :
Spellbreaker is a sport (or rather, a genius sport) Dingo came up with. AND I THANK HIM, ARDENTLY, FOR IT.
 
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“Well, I suppose you could always cook by boiling.” Osuin replied. It was much harder to char food that way, albeit rather limiting in what food one could cook. “Cooking with oil helps too, but overcooking ruins pretty much any meal.” He added. He'd learned the hard way, and his first attempts were less edible than the food he'd complained about.

“A good simple stew can be made with chicken, carrots, cauliflower, and beets in gravy. Thyme, cilantro and parsley work well. It's not that big a deal if you're missing an ingredient.” He added, it was the simplest recipe he could give, both in preparation and ingredients. Those vegetables tended to be available late in the harvest, and plenty kept frozen over the winter. The herbs were simple, but far from exotic. Something a humble knight could afford or aquire.

"I hate to say it, but I am glad to have come along to Illun Serath." She spoke. It seemed an underhanded thing to say, though it was still mostly a compliment. It was far more pleasant than Monroe had been before.

“Likewise. A good drink, and good times too.” Osuin replied, raising his tankard and taking another swig.

Monroe
 
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