Open Chronicles Welcome All, To An Evening of Love in the City of Shadokien.

[Orival Theodric]

"Welcome all! To an evening of love in the City of Shadokien!"

The crier boomed into the enormous crowds with a response of applause loud enough to crack the heavens. Fireworks were shot into the sky and fists were raised as the night of celebration began.

The City of Shadokien was not one that was largely known, nor even documented yet in many texts. They were working on it! Those who would pass through the town on this evening would soon learn how fun and festive the city was. The population had been increasing rapidly and businesses of all fields were booming and becoming a largely opened are. The buildings shaped almost Victorian with more color and spunk to them. An amalgamation of races coincided together in harmony. Magic of all kinds were all accepted and even taught in this hardly known town.

The mayor and government of Shadokien had sent many invitations to the other major cities in hopes to draw new friends and faces for a night of splendor and excitement.

There were carnival booths set up throughout the streets with vendors of many different games. The bards were out in full force playing their best songs to everyone while magic amplified their volume. People had friendly fighting competitions and their were booths for card playing and gambling of all sorts!

Among them was young Orival Theodric, who had his own stage to himself. The young man was nervous due to the size of the crowd before him. That wouldn't stop him though! He was going to swallow his nerves and give everyone a show they'd not soon forget.

The pyromancer wrote in large words of fire:
"A FOREST OF FLAME BY ORIVAL THEODRIC"

He then proceeded to conjure trees of bright orange flames beside him. Then followed birds and shrubbery. Grass of hot white sprouted from the ground and even touched his bare feet. Wisps that represented the gusts of wind conjured from blue flame would fly across stage and dissipate before they would go beyond its radius. Anyone who watched would notice that the stage ground he stood atop was coated in something flame retardant, allowing him to cast fire without destruction. Before long an entire forest made from the colors belonging to autumn and the material of the sun laid before anyone watching him.

 

[Karl von Stehlen]

This was certainly somthing, at least compared to what he was used to seeing on a daily basis. Only other places he's seen this amount of colorful lights and this amount of different people was in a place like Alliria or even Elbion. The festivals of Shadokien made any form of celebration in the Confederation seemed rather muted; with all the lights, the noise, the foods...

Karl wasn't exactly here for leisurely reasons. As always, the knight was here on a mission. Specifically, he was acting as the bodyguard for his brother: The Arch-Count of the Strojland Confederation, Otto von Stehlen, who was taking the lead at the moment.

What made the entire thing a bit jarring was how Karl was the only line of defense between any potential harm and his brother. Might have been a good idea to have brought along a retinue...though said retinue was actually acting as a decoy at the moment taking the longer route. Mobility was a key argument to this entire plan, as Otto had pointed out that both Von Stehlen brothers could make it to the festival at a faster rate then if they had to move as a retinue.

It was somewhat important that Otto be here...though why? It was not as clear. All Karl knew was that he had too keep Otto from taking a bolt to the head or a blade to the neck. Not as hard as one would imagine...as Otto was surprisingly good at taking care of himself...

They were currently moving through the crowds, making their way to one meeting point or another...attempting not to get into the lime light for any reason....

No doubt, it could have been quiet overwhelming to some, but for Karl, it just made him stand out more. Everything about this simply contrasted the armor he wore, coupled with the fact that he physically stuck out of the crowed. With any luck, nothing bad would happen tonight...of all nights....

 

[Otto von Stehlen]

Subtly was the term of the night, at least for two of the Von Stehlen children present.

It was a night of celebration for the fair city, there was no doubt about it...but it was also a night for opportunities...at least, if they played their cards right.

Indeed, Otto lead on, as if he knew exactly where he was going. You'd think someone might have noticed the sovereign wandering around in the open, but tonight, Otto looked like any two-bit mercenary wandering about the festival; wearing what appeared to be leather hunting armor with a steel cuirass over his chest. Hanging on each side of his hip was a falchion and an axe, while slung on his back what appeared to be a folded up crossbow.

It was certainly somthing that most sovereigns didn't do; snaking through the crowds dressed as a commoner, looking like a mercenary who'd do his own dirty work... indeed, all of this was a familiar in a sense ...not the politics...the festival, the people, even these clothes...it was all all natural to him...somthing that Karl couldn't even fathom Otto doing..

Yet here they were, here he was...in an element that he rarely every got to be in...Otto was quietly enjoying himself...

Not that you'd know, his expression followed his namesake as "The Grim" for a reason. No smile, just a permanent look of indifference and annoyance. That, plus the helmeted masked that he wore help to keep away those who tried to get two friendly; they were just two armed sell-swords passing through...nothing more, nothing less...

Least, that's what it seemed to everyone else.

They continued forth, pushing through the crowed. As they did, it wasn't long before they would pass by what looked to be a performance stage. There was still quite the ways to go before they'd reach one of their destinations tonight. But as they pressed on, they passed by what seemed to be all the colors of the rainbows sparking all around the stage...quiet an impressive performance, all in all...

 

[Orival Theodric]

Orival's eyes twisted through the crowd as he continued his dance and display. As they passed over the two von Stehlen brothers he knew this must mean new faces were actually showing themselves in Shadokien! For whatever reason they may travel it excited the pyromancers heart to see that his home was being so welcoming to strangers, though it offered no surprise. It just never failed to please him.

He began to manipulate the flames again alongside his dance. Creating more fauna to flutter about the fire laden tree branches. The heat was increasing in the area around he and his observers, but not to a dangerous degree. It gave off a comfortable warmth that would hopefully entice those around to stay longer. He turned his back to the crowd in order to face the back of the flame forest. He rose his hands to conjure what was a waterfall of pure green fire that came crashing down around him, and flying just enough off the stage to cause a fright but with enough control to not harm any individual.

The waves dissipated before they hit the ground and it showed Orival sitting meditation position covered in emerald inferno. The trees started to turn to a bright white while the creatures around stayed their classic orange. He smiled behind his face mask satisfied with himself. Knowing his lessons had paid off to master his art.

 

[ZafiraJade]

There was something so fascinating about the way flames licked against themselves, manipulated by Orival. She was studiously watching his movements with an amount of concentration most people didn't care for. His hands moved with a quiet vigor, rising and falling, impressing anyone walking by. It didn't help that the weather was frigid this time of year and that the warmth from the man's fire soothed her in a way that made her want to stay, if just for the delicious heat.

So caught up by the way the flames moved, Zafira almost forgot that she was here for a reason.

She'd never been to the City of Shadokein. She'd heard of its bright carnival though, and her professor wanted to take a break from their lessons. While Zafira wanted to primarily stay at home and curl up by a good book, she had decided instead to venture into the city, completely alone with no familiar faces.

It was riveting.

She loved everything about the city the minute she had entered it. The loud, chattering people. The grinning faces of all the couples and friends walking by, kids running against her feet while their parents called for them to stay close. The scent of delicious deserts and savory meats basked the air, and Zafira knew she had not made a bad decision at all.

Now if only she could find the herbal shop.....

 

[Flint]

Flint stood to the back of the crowd, finding he could see the lights and flames just as well there. It meant that he wouldn't have to jostle his way around the crowd, and that he wouldn't miss anything when a fat-headed spectator obscured his view. Atop a wooden fence, the barber sipped from a tankard of ale as he watched the flames dance, pour, and form various beasts before dissipating once more. The mage orchestrating such visions showed precision, creativity, and above all, daring. Hell, Flint was glad he'd decided to stay far from front row, less his head catch fire from a few embers.

Shadokien was a beautiful city, and Flint deeply regretted postponing his first visit for so long. The city exhaled culture and openness. It was a place where anyone could find a place. A place where ideas were spread, where food and drink varied, and where one was never bored. The barber spotted all manner of folk walking around, from dwarves to Komodi. Flint had come here after hearing of the festival, deciding to take a break from work to see what Shadokien had to offer. Needless to say, he'd been presented with enough to consider moving his business.

For a moment the flames cleared, and Flint caught sight of the mage behind the show. Orvial Theodric's face was obscured, though the mage's meditative pose suggested he was a man of discipline and great magical skill. The barber hopped from the fence, joining the back of the crowd as he cheered the mage on, wondering if Orvial had any other tricks up his sleeve.

 

[Orival Theodric]

Everyone was showing Orival such praise he could hardly handle it. The pyromancer couldn't hold his tears back from how kind and welcoming the crowd was. The newer faces showing love to his hometown filled the dancer with such a warm heart. His chest was pounding and eyes were glistening from his mask. This was beautiful, an amazing festival at least from his standpoint. It was precarious though, this would be his finale. Though short he wanted to make sure those gracious enough to offer him their gaze and cheer walked away with amazement in their brains.

The green flames that enveloped him began to contort around him. The forest itself glowing ever brighter in its white sheen. Those emerald licks twisted around the young man and began to take more delicate shape. They changed into what looked like armor made from druidic origin. Showing branch like gauntlets and chest plate. A helmet with a skull shaped face and multi colored flowers jutting from its top. A skirt that dawned similarities to the helmet. Its basis was that of the forested green he'd conjured but each flower that appeared was a complimentary yellow or orange in a spectrum of bright wonder.

He stood up giving himself the appearance of a great forest necromancer, and held his hands high to the sky above him. The leaves of white that dawned the trees he'd manifested began to fall from their branches, leaving the outline of dead bright trees. The fallen petals floated just above the ground with such concentration that if one was paying enough attention they could see Orival's breaths grow heavier.

The leaves then flew behind him with extreme ferocity as the pyromancers hands trembled. He then initiated a dance. He would flip side to side with beautiful acrobatics and shift his hands in ways one would see during a martial artists kata. The leaves began to congregate once again and shift with the wind behind the pyromancer.

They connected as an elaborate puzzle would, taking form slowly as they drifted towards one another.

Before long, there stood Orival with his illusory armor finally still and staring through the crowd. Behind him showed the head of a giant dragon. It could make no sound but was intimidating in size and conjured entirely from the fallen petals. The flower dragon approached the now still Orival and opened its humongous maw above him. In a flash, it bit down on the dancer and created an explosion of red, white and green shooting in a spiral upwards to the sky. After about twenty seconds of this dazzling display, the fire from the trees and from the explosion surrounding Orival all vanished into colorful ash, then into nothing.

All that remained was a bowing Orival Theodric, breathing heavy and loud enough for all to hear his exasperation.

 

[Karl von Stehlen]

The knight's eyes were hidden underneath his visors, but they were focused on his brother's backside. There was a good deal of maneuvering the two had to do in order to get around the masses of the crowed. It took more effort to not knock over people in the crowed then if he had just barreled down the center. But they couldn't risk bringing too much attention to themselves, least someone get too curious...

In such a circumstance, Otto had the advantage; his smaller frame allowed him to slip people with much ease...

The knight's attention might have remained glued onto his brother, had it not been to fiery mass hurling towards them that abruptly halted his path. Karl hand flew to his sword, almost drawing it as a force of habit...only halted by his conscious thought...as his eyes sent the information to his head, a realization quickly hit him that this was a mere entertainer, not an attacker.

The grip on his weapon relaxed, as did his posture. But his mind remained every vigilante...even if him and his brother were now split apart from the performance...

 

[Otto von Stehlen]

The herbal shop the first rendezvous place of the night. It was the shop itself necessarily that was important, but the other services it provided; private meeting spaces on it's balcony for businessmen and bureaucrats to conduct their business whilst watching the festivities going on below.

It might have been easier to find had it not been this crowded, only exasperated by the performance given by the main act. Any other day, the Count might have given the performance a stern grunt, which was usually high praise from the man. But his eyebrows furred a bit underneath his mask, as he looked behind to wear his younger brother stood.

Separating them from each other was the performer and his act, as well as all those cheering for him. But they couldn't stay and wait for the man to withdraw on his own, they hadn't a single clue of his routine, and the time was ticking.

Without a word, Otto titled his helmeted head to the side, towards the back of the crowed. Karl caught on quick; they were to push backwards and link up behind the crowd.

So they did, on to sides of the crowed, pushing and passing through towards the end of the crowed, moving in manners as to not draw attention. Perhaps things were to remain quiet that night, as his brother had hopped...as Otto felt his shoulder brush up against someone...

"Excuse me..." His voice was as cold as ever, contrary to the performance and the general atmosphere. In fact, if one would have gone by the tone along, they might have thought themselves being threatened! Especially by this masked brigand looking fellow...
ZafiraJade Flint

 

[Orival Theodric]

As Orival rose from his bow there were several people already rushing up to him to offer him praise. He rubbed the back of his head and waved them off in modesty. While this was occurring he could see two knightly looking newcomers who were masking their faces trying to reach one another through the crowd that was growing more and more dense.

Their purpose was simple enough, yet the attitude depicted from them was what gave them away as new. They seemed unimpressed and even irate at goings on. He watched Otto and Karl as they passed through the hordes out of curiosity and out of worry. Were they diplomats? What would drive them to a festival wanting to hide their presences? Though, Shadokien had few records of its existence in other cities at the current time. Perhaps they were here just to see if the place was a threat or not. It shouldn't matter to him, he decided. He should focus on those who were here for the same reason as he.

He waved his finger in the air and wrote a large "THANK YOU EVERYONE" if naught was happening in a manner that was causing harm to he or others, it was best he not let his thoughts wander.

 

[Flint]

The barber left his tankard on the bench nearest the tavern, a look of admiration on his face in light of the mage's finale. He joined the crowd in congratulating the performer, deciding the approach the mage himself. Flint was a man who took a great interest in unique people. They tended to have plenty of tales to tell, and were often for great things. Orival looked like one of the characters he'd read about in epic tales.

Once those in front of them had said their piece, Flint closed in on Theodric, giving him a short round of applause as he came into earshot. "They're talking about you all round town", he opened, coming to a halt a few steps away from the thespian. "That was fantastic! May I ask how long such a routine takes to perfect? Do you worry about lighting someone or someplace on fire?", his flurry of questions had him feeling like he was a boy again. "I mean, I've not seen such a display in some time. You should show the boys down in Elbion how its really done!".

 

[Orival Theodric]

Orival's ears perked up when Flint spoke to him. Though many were offering praise to the young performer none had asked him about his methodology or how he prepared. The crowd was already thinning tremendously and most people coming to see him already knew him from Unhinged Maw or their school days. He turned to face the barber and his eyes showed he was smiling. He sat down and began to wave words in the air with his finger,

"You're too kind. This particular show took me a few weeks to master itself though the control of flame itself was a multi year process. The schools here are very supportive with both arts and magics. Fire has a stigma of being destructive, and so I always am aware of the dangerous potential it carries. Yet fire has such freedom and beauty inside it. It takes a good deal of effort to ensure the flames withdraw when they do but I don't feel much fear of injury anymore." He rubbed the back of his head and closed his eyes as he continued to write.

"I've not traveled so far yet. I've spent most of my life in Shadokien. Maybe I'll come see what the city offers!"

 

[Flint]

The sorcerer had kind eyes. Noticing that, Flint was getting the impression that Orival was a good person. He'd been scammed, fooled and betrayed in his life, and Flint found that you could tell a lot about a person by their eyes. He wondered what kind of information his own irises spoke of.

The magician's form of communication certainly was unique. He found reading the airborne words to be an experience, but also had to wonder if doing so would eventually become a chore. Still, it didn't take from the admiration the barber had for Orival, who clearly put a lot of time and effort into his work. He'd always admired schools of magic, and had always got the sense that they were places of great camraderie and support. That did seem the case in Elbion. The mage spoke of fire as though he had a true relatonship with the element, and he understood that the fire was to Orival as the blade and comb were to him.

"There's an excellent inn by my shop. I advise stopping by if you ever find yourself in town!"

Orival Theodric

 

[Orival Theodric]

"I'll have to do just that. What was your name, friend?" He wrote quickly but softly. He'd heard of Elbion, and needed to check out the area. Really he needed to check out the entire continent. His mother had hired some more cooks over at Unhinged Maw and he was about to take three months off of work. This would be ample time for him to finally adventure and see the wonders of the land he'd not yet experienced!

"What is it like out there?" He wrote again. He wouldn't bombard poor Flint with too many large papers of writing. He was well aware of how inconvenient his disability was. He always felt like a burden if he talked with anyone too long.