Noct Yaegir Vignette - Moonlight Before the Mountains

[Vel'duith Voiryn]

Vel’duith slipped silently out of the barracks door, taking care not to let it slam in the gusting wind. Walking soundlessly into the courtyard, the dark elf surveyed for a likely spot. In the squalling wind and the black of night, the western watchtower stood unmanned, the night guards having stationed themselves instead in the relative shelter of the crenellations cut into the keep’s corner towers. Her mantle, quite odd-looking in full daylight, was crafted and enchanted from the mottled bat-leathery pelt of a Cloaker; wearing it in the dark it made her already slender silhouette seem all but part of the courtyard flagstones as she approached the watchtower ladder and stepped onto the first rung.

The drow steadily scaled the ladder, climbing up to the exposed platform atop the watchtower, taking great care with her grip and footing in the freezing midnight air. I must remember to seek furs from the quartermaster tomorrow, such as the others here wear, she silently admonished herself. The dark sky above billowed with frothing clouds, driven as if fleeing some invisible lash of silent overseers; as if in league with the cloud-drivers, the whipping wind cruelly pelted her face with tiny barbs of ice. But Vel'duith would not be so easily defeated this night; nor would she indulge the wind-lasher with a solitary yammer or bleat for its efforts.

For there was a silvery glow in the sky, backlighting the racing streams of cirrus ribbons above.

 

[Melfa]

Far below in the light of the moon, the telltale signs of a returning hunting party puttered along the crags of the mountains. Torches and lanterns dotted the dark miasma of moving bodies while the gale brought in the sounds of loud conversation and drunken laughter.

Clearly they'd been victorious.

Upon reaching the outer gates the caravan filed in along with a horse-drawn wagon heavily laden with their spoils. No monster nor nightmarish thing, but a massive bull elk tied across the slab, blue tongue lolling and dead eyes glazed. Their bellies would be full for days to come with such a score.

One of the last hunters, draped in several layers of pelts, walked in a stiff hunch, paused, and gave a righteous sneeze that sent a plume of fire spilling from their mouth.

HOOhhhh! cried several hunters, followed by laughter as they quickly scurried out of direct line of fire.

Melfa sniffled, bundled the furs over her hulking shoulders more snugly, and continued her trudging toward the keep's entrance. She needed a hot bath and several warm bodies.

 

[Vel'duith Voiryn]

Upon reaching the top of the ladder, the dark elf slid herself a safe distance onto the creaking, groaning platform, wrapping her cloaker-leather mantle tightly about her. Forcing herself not to shiver or chatter, she watched the sky expectantly. After a few moments, she inclined her head toward the silver shimmer in the heavens, and offered up a supplication into the howling wind:

“I, Vel’duith, once second-daughter of House Voiryn, have solved the dark maze of tunnels, pools, shafts, and caverns, and passed many perils to hie to your realm. I have passed through the burning light of the sun, O Sse’ellah! -to come to this place of reckoning, and to undertake my prescribed atonement. Eager am I to finally witness your splendor! And newly sworn am I to the Noct Yaegirs: hunters of evils and protectors of all who sleep beneath your benevolent gaze. I offer this service in your name, to repay your gift of wisdom which lately spared me from a cruel end; and I shall endeavor to cleave to your creed: kindness to all, save in battle with evil. So swears Vel’duith anew!”

A few moments passed while the tempestuous chase from heavenly crag to faraway horizon charged onward, unabated. But then, a warm zephyr from the southwest caressed Vel’duith’s face, and the cirrus-stream cleft open, a moonbeam falling onto the watchtower. The drow knelt, opening her arms, and leaning backward to let the moonlight soak into her, the eldritch trails of silver and moonstone embedding gleaming from her fingertips to her elbows, and from her toes to her knees. Then, a ghostly image of Vel’duith appeared, dancing lute in hand, pirouetting in an arcing orbit about a miniature of the moon shining above, the latter taking on more and more detail as the moon above emerged more fully into her view. Silvery images of cobby Ilharess swooping and soaring in hot pursuit of a pair of panicked starlings and a scowling Sigrun, expertly juggling her axes while dancing a lively jig joined the illusory orrery. The scene elicited a mirthful giggle from the thoroughly-enraptured dark elf.

After a few joyful moments, with a wistful wave, Vel’duith willed the illusion away, the ephemeral silvery characters parting ways and fading out into the night. She lay back, splayed out flat on the platform in an X, as though frozen mid snow-angel, completely exhilarated, the moon-dazzle reflected fully in her nearly pupilless red eyes, as she slowly recovered and regained her composure. Biting back the sudden temptation to shout out her triumph into the night, she instead rolled to a crouch to reapproach the ladder, when she heard noises carried upon the wind. She peered over the edge of the watchtower, making out the wagon laden with the fresh carcass of some enormous beast accompanied by a bevy of torchlit mirthful faces, the tall, bundled up woman with some manner of elaborate headdress? The eager flurry of activity- why, these are folk returning home. Her eyes alit at the sneeze of flame from the tall, bundled woman, noting the way the horns moved with her without any shifting... that is no headdress, why... the woman seems to be part dragon!

Vel'duith carefully sought a safe rung and began her descent, curious eyes darting between her purchase on the ladder and the gate creaking open to admit the folk returning as she climbed back down to the ground. The courtyard already seemed a bit warmer to her cheeks - 'tis the very preamble to hypothermia, she sternly reminded herself. Realizing the possibility of her being mistaken for some invader, the slender drow made no attempt to hide herself as she walked a meandering arc from the watchtower back to the barracks, her red eyes faintly aglow in the night as she watched the party enter from a quarter of the way across the courtyard.

 

[Ispir Sione]

Ispir had a promise to keep.

He had told Sigrun Flintfeet he would bring music to the gloomy walls of Crobhear and come kobolds or high water that was what he intended to do! So it was that Vel'duith Voiryn 's descent down the ladder and the hunting party's return was met not with stoic silence, cold stone and a keep lit only by the joy of their successful hunt. Instead Ispir began again the song he he never got to finish when he met Sigrun and Irman Harefoot on the path to crobhear keep.

A panoply of instruments from a lute that channeled sounds along magical chords to a sack and pipes that rang out like true bagpipes, began to fill the courtyard. Ispir had done quite a bit in preparation for this little performance, including working with Hojen and the kitchen staff to prepare something at least somewhat approximating hot chocolate!

As the victorious hunting party returned in the chilled night air the instruments would play their traveler's song and Ispir would duck, weave and otherwise float among the returning hunting party with acute deftness. Balancing a tray of almost-hot-chocolate on the tray, siging and humming the tune to help focus himself as he passed out steaming hot mugs to anyone that wished one. A small crown of local flowers wreathing his head as he finally brought his last mug to a tall, hunched figure breathing flame, offering it up them by the handle.

Spoiler: Beaming a Smile

His voice more chipper and wholesome than normal as he put on the show he had promised Sigrun.

"Here you are friend! A warm drink on a cold night!"

The scales, horns, slitted eyes and all did not seem to bother the much shorter bard in the least.

Melfa​

 

[Voe]

"What do you reckon all that was?"

From his perch on the covered tower wall Voe and watched with some interest the display from Vel'duith, at least he thought it was Vel'duith, in the dark he supposed it might have been anyone but the hair pretty much gave it away.
Rare to see as his own kind that one was.

In reply to his ponderous question Otho tilted his head sideways and gave a kind of hissing whine. Which prompted a pat on the head and a scratch on the chin from his master.

The brasser kept him warm, soft glowing fired charcoal and what logs remained dry stoked it despite the winds attempts to snuff it out as Voe's yellow eyes watched the interior for a few more moments.
It would be elk for dinner again. That was not so bad once you got it seasoned. Melfa of course was even more noticeable than he was and not for the first time he wondered how she got anything done with all those horns on her head. Sweaters must be a nightmare. Top notch sneeze though, nine out of ten.

Someone, was that the bard? Inspin-no Ispir that was it, looked to be serving drinks.
Lucky them, Voe thought unable to venture down for a cup while on duty. He shouldn't drink on duty anyway but it didn't stop him wanting something to help chase the chill from his cheeks.

Otho peered over the edge to look and gave a drooling gurgle.
"No!"
The warning made Otho grumble and that grumble soon gave way to a bark.
"I said No!"

A hand under the thick collar of the beast brought his head away from the fresh kill and back to Voe.
"There'll be a piece for you later. You'd only eat the whole thing and who would they blame huh? Me, that's who. Stay!"
Otho lay down, unhappy but obedient.

Looking out into the howling night Voe tried to pierce the darkness by will alone but he saw nothing but dancing trees and what light the moon shone on the mountains.

It was going to be a long watch.

 

[Melfa]

From within the cowl of her many layers, two hellfire eyes pinned the tiny human with a curious look. There was a beat after the offer, the flicker of a forked tongue, then a clawed hand reached forward to take up a cup from the platter in the fashion of an adult to a child's tea party set.

This drink, whatever it was, held no familiar smell, but that did not stop the komodi from draining it in one swig. The warmth had sold it long before any words or cheery smiles.

Melfa tossed the empty cup and reached for one - two more in the same oversized hand, then another two in the other hand. Further empty cups were tossed aside. One pinged off the helmet of a passing Yaegir.

This would continue until the komodi was stopped (but who in their right mind would try?) or no cups remained.

 

[Vel'duith Voiryn]

Vel'duith silently welcomed the sudden commotion pouring out to greet the hunting party. The perfect opportunity to slip in and get a hot bath ahead of the impending rush! She nonchalantly opened the barracks door, proceeding to her corner chair. She shrugged off and hung her mantle, gathered a few sundry items from her satchel, and made for the bathing area, silent as a mouse. Her now-moribund slippers started making faint slapping noises against the stone as she walked the hallway. She shivered slightly at the feel of the gritty, chilly stone against the skin of her feet. The drow grimaced. It seems I shall have to ask the quartermaster about a cobbler, too...

Reaching her destination, Vel'duith pinched out a mixture of salts and dried petals and dropped it into the nearest tub. She hauled off her layers of robes, hanging them primly in reverse order, waggling a finger at the tub as she went - a cantrip to swiftly warm the water. Her dark, clammy form shivered and she drew in a sharp breath as she slowly poured a pitcher of chilly water over herself, then dabbed away the worst of the day's grit with a muslin cloth, which she duly rinsed, squeezed out, and hung with her robes. At the first beckon of hot steam and fragrant salts, she ceased her cantrip with a flourishing reverse waggle, stepped gingerly into the wooden tub, and settled in with an involuntary shudder, heaving a long, blissful sigh.

 

[Andel Moon]

As the song echoed on, the blonde hummed to the melody absentmindedly as he compiled the research he'd found from earlier. Nimble fingers carefully writing notes to make it easier for the others to read in one sitting, instead of how he had found them originally.

Beside him was a whole bottle of wine and a few glasses, one filled, the rest just scattered about, the arcanobiologist was enjoying the company around Crobhear Keep. His blue eyes scanned the pages for important or interesting information as he took a long sip of honey wine.

When the cups were tossed about, he ducked down and then looked up at Melfa with a cheerful smile before looking to the bard child carrying the drink tray.

"If there's still some left, I'd love whatever beverage you have there." He gave Ispir a polite smile before he leaned back and really took in the hall. "Nice to have some fun around here."

 

[Ispir Sione]

Ispir would simply giggle as Melfa gulped down mug after mug of hot chocolate. He didn't begrudge the cold-blooded woman her love for warm drinks, but he would slyly pull mugs off the tray to hand to others whenever Melfa blocked her vision with a mug or two. He wasn't going to directly tell her 'no' but he would make sure others, including the blonde lady from earlier, got some. Giving Andel Moon a cheery smile a mug would be given to her as Ispir beamed.

"Here you go!"

The cheerful Yaegers would begin to gossip and one man would motion up to one of the watch towers, lamenting the cold and poor Voe being up there by themselves and not enjoying some nice, warm drink! Ispir, pouting now, would glance back up at the tower and mumble.

"Well that's not fair...."

Swiping the last mug of hot chocolate before Melfa could guzzle it Ispir would give an apologetic smile.

"Sorry friends, but a lonely watchman needs some hot chocolate!"

Ispir would then scamper away, through the halls, over the thresholds, and finally to a ladder leading up to Voe's watch perch. Ispir would huff and cradle the mug in a hand by the handle, gently using his free hand to grip the ladder while he slowly began to crawl up the ladder inch by inch. His thin forearm beginning to burn from the strain of holding the mug steady.... or at least as steady as he could.

As he got higher up the ladder he would wobble, the hot chocolate sloshing, only for some of it to sploosh a single large drop onto his thigh and Ispir woudl let out a low, pained.

"Hmmmm......"

As he pursed his lips at the light burn he now doubt now sported on his thigh. Nonetheless a small hand holding a mug would peak over the lip of the ladder as Ispir set the mug onto the watch tower for Voe, climbing up to his perch, and roll onto the floor with an exhausted.

"Ph-Phew.... I... I brought you s-some... hot chocolate friend...."​

 

[Karskgorak Fiend-Crusher]

The doors to the great hall were flung open as a long bearded old orc sauntered in. He looked around the bustling tables and let out a hearty laugh.

“Gahahaha, how long has it been since I’ve seen Crobhear so full of merriment? I had thought to rouse the keep a bit with tales of demons slaying but I find the bards already playing and the hunters already drinking.”

Several of the hunters and custodians about rose their mugs in recognition of old Karskgorak, while others tried to pretend he wasn’t there.

“Of course, he’d show up too” muttered Hojen

Karsk immediately locked eyes with Melfa and approached the Komodi with a toothy grin. As he drew near he began speaking in Orcish.

“Gonik kav nuk, Kotir zil pere. Tarvana na’des uv il drak bel tura doros nor!”
(It has been too long, oath daughter of Kotir. I’m surprised your scales are not yet all stained red with fiend blood!)

Melfa was then offered a handshake, both as greetings and to test the Komodi woman’s strength.

“Although I suppose it better we converse by the common tongue for the benefit of your young companion. It surprises me though Melfa, I hadn’t thought you the type.”

 

[Voe]

It was Otho who met Ispir first with an excited nudge with it's horned about and playful hiss.

Voe smiled as he pulled the great beast back and after a moment picked up the hot chocolate from Ispir's hand where the bard lay.

"My thanks Ispir."
Now free from Otho he helped the young man up and raised the cut to him.

"Your good health friend!"

He downed the sweet and sticky and warm hot chocolate right into his waiting belly with noisy gulps.

"Ah, that's the stuff."

Freed of his master for a moment Otho took the opportunity to inspect Ispir for more goodies. The large head sniffed with flared nostrils and encouraging whines, as if he had been neglected.

Ispir Sione

 

[Ispir Sione]

Ispir would simply smile at Voe as they gave their thanks, weakly giving a raised fist in mock cheers even without a cup, and would giggle as Otho inspected them. Petting Otho gently Ispir would sit up and, brushing themselves off, would fish out a small piece of jerky from their provisions and give it to Otho happily.

"And to your health as well!"

Ispir agreed while scratching Otho on the head before sighing.

"I'm sorry you're stuck up here when all the merriment is down below. Even if you're not necessarily alone huh?"

Ispir would ask the question to both Voe and Otho, cupping the critter's cheeks in his hands and rubbing them rapidly in little motions.​

 

[Ilharess]

Ilharess, the now hours-truant winged tabby familiar of a certain new dark elf recruit, soared silently over the keep's wall, circling down to a stilted landing atop the barracks roof. The homecoming ruckus and assorted sturm und drang filing into the Great Hall below may as well have been a silent movie in a closed theater up the street, for she had important winged tabby business to attend to. She nosed her way inside the attic shutters, padding through grumpily, keeping her nose high in the air. After all, the last thing she needed was stale smelling, gritty old attic dust stuck to all the sickly-sweet blackberry nectar stubbornly soaking her muzzle. She plop-hopped her way down the attic ladder, then dropped quietly to the hallway.

Sensing her erstwhile charge bathing nearby, she padded right into the bathing area, hopped up to the tub's rim, and plunged her muzzle straight into the steaming water. After perhaps five seconds, she withdrew her dripping, half-soaked head and violently shook the water out like she was more husky than tabby. Then, she plopped down and started to groom her paws and her face.

Vivid, highly-detailed, three-dimensional thoughts of increasingly grandiose revenge pranks, pixie child-napping ransom plots, various surefire methods of committing outright pixie double-murder, what manner of makeshift sepulcher might hide the bodies longest, potential courtly defenses she might try, and her unfortunately-completely-incompatible-with-a-pixie-double-murder-rap, rather thoroughgoing reticence against being cursed into the shape of some manner of snowshoe rabbit-twoleg mongrel monstrosity (like wossname sitting atop the wall earlier with the pointy sword had apparently managed at some time in the recent past, by the smell of him), all passed in turn behind her golden feline eyes while she licked and groomed, licked and groomed, licked and groomed. No, she reluctantly decided, now I simply need to inspire my new-leaf-turning dark elf to get herself promoted to a better post, outside the winter court's parlour. The frost pixie warden was, after all, really quite specific about the bounds of his petty little curse.

She paused her grooming cycle a moment, sniffing the air a moment, golden eyes quizzically popping open as she realized her paws and newly cleaned muzzle were positively the source of the emanating odor. Why in the name of Andronicus's beetroot shillelagh do I reek of dog-trampled flowers and low tide?! Inquisitorial half-lidded eyes and a still-damp, grumpy maw turned toward Vel'duith, who was soaking, eyes closed in half-reverie.