Log 03 Jyslin Andie Syval Journey Day 02
<OOC> Vanya says, "She's on the short-list of characters I could easily reprise."
<OOC> Jyslin Brenlas says, "If I knew more TF, I'd try to help with that. I do not."
<OOC> Vanya says, "Oh it wouldn't be the same off of RiD. There was so much going on."
<OOC> Vanya says, "I appreciate the intent. Thank you. :)"
<OOC> Jyslin Brenlas says, "I literally know fark-all about TF. I know the G1 cartoon because that was a thing when I was a kid. I know there was a Beast Wars thing, which I saw bits of, and know not at all otherwise, which memes have told me was eventually canonized to be pre-G1. And I know that as a whole the farking set has had dozens of shows AND comics series'. That's all I know."
Syval awakens heavily and sits up before his eyes have full opened while bracing a hand against the bardiche beside his bedroll. Nature around their campsite is dead quiet without even insects buzzing. Normally it's a sign of trouble, something interrupting the noisy calm of the night.
Then his eyes open enough to spot the enormous mass of orange and black stripes across the campsite. Syval tightens the grip on his weapon with a start as he moves to stand up, rising in a fluid motion and placing a second hand on the bardiche's haft. But he doesn't scream, shout, or lunge the creature. The tiger has the element of surprise and even still rousing, the sandy-eyed mage has the presence of mind not to pick a fight with something that large unprovoked - at least not when it's close enough to roll across Andie.
<OOC> Vanya says, "That's more than I knew when I apped Spectrum. XD"
Now that Syval is a tad more awake and aware, he might also notice something else as details slowly filter through his brain from his perceptions: there's no visible sign of Jyslin. And that tiger is laying down on Jylsin's bedroll.
Also: it seems Neosodos is completely unconcerned about this, curled up atop the tiger without a care in his wyrmly world.
The tigress slowly turns her head, ears swiveling towards Syval as he stands, weapon raised. Then she gives another enormous yawn, blinking those big luminescent green eyes at him. Her tail flips lazily behind her. Then she nods towards Syval and lowers her head down to her paws, and lets her eyes close ...
And somewhere in Syval's subconscious would be the realization that the scent profile of the campsite has not changed. And neither has the magical profile. The composition of the campsite has somehow not changed.
Syval's eyes glow a pale green in the pale moonlight as he studies the tiger intently and, after several seconds, matches the tigress against the missing and magical Jyslin. The adventurer lets out a breath and loosens the grip on his bardiche, thumping its weighted pommel into the dirt with a frown. "You could have told me /before/ going to sleep," he grumbles, then straightens his sarong and wanders away to take a walk around the campsite. He'll study his spellbook once he's finished calming down.
Chances are the tigress can hear that comment, but she makes no outward sign or reaction. She just lays down quietly and calmly and goes back to sleep.
The surroundings are, as previously noted, quite quiet and calm. There does not appear to be any wildlife anywhere nearby, and none seem to be bothering. There's not much light, other than moonlight - and that is fading. The magically sustained campfire was extinguished, but the fire circle yet remains, likely for a place to summon another come morning for cooking. The benefit of the quiet is that Syval will be uninterrupted while studying and preparing spells; the challenge is that it's pitch dark, which will make it hard to read the tome unless Syval summons some light, or prepares a lantern.
<OOC> Vanya says, "Could you repose for me please?"
Chances are the tigress can hear that comment, but she makes no outward sign or reaction. She just lays down quietly and calmly and goes back to sleep.
The surroundings are, as previously noted, quite quiet and calm. There does not appear to be any wildlife anywhere nearby, and none seem to be bothering. There's not much light, other than moonlight - and that is fading. The magically sustained campfire was extinguished, but the fire circle yet remains, likely for a place to summon another come morning for cooking. The benefit of the quiet is that Syval will be uninterrupted while studying and preparing spells; the challenge is that it's pitch dark, which will make it hard to read the tome unless Syval summons some light, or prepares a lantern.
Returning to the campsite somewhat calmed by the walk, Syval sits down at the edge of his bedroll, leans his bardiche against one shoulder, and tugs his spellbook into his lap. Light from the moon overhead glances off his eyes with a tiger-like shimmer as he opens the cover and flips from memory back to a certain page. Then the young man immerses himself in study without any provisions for a light. If Andie and Jyslin can have their secrets, then Syval can have his too. Besides, they never asked.
And a few hours later, just before the first rays of dawn should start peeking over the horizon, Andie and Neosodos stir. It quickly becomes apparent that Neosodos stirs because Andie does; once she has gotten up, seated on her bedroll with the blanket over her lap, the dragonet curls up on said lap, closes his eyes and goes back to sleep as she rests her hands upon him.
Seeing Syval up, and Jyslin transformed, seems not to bother Andie in the slightest. She merely offers the man across the cold campfire circle a nod and then turns her face due east. And as those first fingers of dawn's light peek over the horizon, a golden glow builds around Andie, suffusing her and surrounding Neosodos, suffusing the sleeping dragonet as well.
This is a witch, communing with her familiar. And the aura of palpable magical energies in the camp increases exponentially, in a raw, barely-shaped fashion that both grates against Syval's training and experience, and yet still feels ... oddly 'right', to some instinct buried within him he does not yet understand.
Syval is aware enough to notice the stir and nod back once Andie rouses. His spellbook was closed and packed away before the last star faded, leaving the green-haired wizard occupying himself in turns with observing the grasslands around them and amusing himself with minor acts of magic upon his surroundings. Looking closely as light begins to filter into their campsite, some of the up-turned rocks of the fire pit aren't the same color they were the night before.
The sight of a witch in communion well eclipses those passing interests and the young man's eyes are drawn to the Andie before the glow has even fully enveloped Neosodos. The golden aura sets his hairs on end and instinctively, the novice mage replies with a muted gesture of his hand and a softly spoken "Laas" before his eyes glow a verdant green in sympathy, attuning themselves to magic. It only makes the impact stronger. He stares, his brow furrows in rapt attention, and any academy lessons in the danger of raw magicks are brushed away by the captivating golden aura.
Andie herself does not look up or regard Syval, and her communion is deep enough she would seem to have little real awareness of the world around her as she does so. One side effect that does occur is that Andie gestures, at some point, towards the fire pit, and the magical fires erupt once more in place, glowing even more gold than the night before. This is so effortless, in fact, that Andie need not even utter a word; only the mere gesture is sufficient.
A good hour later, the glow around Andie fades, until only Neosodos is affected. Finally the dragonet stirs once more, stretching wide, wings outstretched, head and neck high as he gives voice a cry, 'shouting' in his admittedly small voice a single word. And despite never hearing that word before, and knowing no human throat could make it, instinct tells Syval its meaning: Good morning.
And then the glow fades away in twinkling motes. The tigress beside Andie and Neosodos opens her eyes, yawning wide and starting to stretch ... as her body ripples and morphs, leaving Jyslin behind as she stretches more and sits up. "Time for breakfast, I suppose ..." she murmurs as she gets started on that, without even a word about the fact that she was, just moments ago, not even human.
The captivating spell upon Syval breaks by the time the golden glow fades and the young man blinks his eyes hard as if rousing from a dream. Looking from the freshly-communed witch to the dragon in her lap and then to the teenage tigress all casually starting their mornings, all he can do is shake his head. "I see why you normally travel alone..."
Standing, Syval follows the group's lead and stretches himself loose as well, realizing with a grunt just how long he was motionless watching Andie's ritual. "Good morning to you too, Neo," he adds. "I can search for game along our route. Or set out a few traps."
<OOC> Vanya has plenty of questions about the night but is saving them for breakfast. He's pragmatic. :)
<OOC> Vanya says, "Breakfast or the trail."
Jyslin chuckles amusedly at Syval's reaction, but she moves to put up her stand and puts a rack on it. "Give me a few, and I'll have the bread heated and ready." The (very) old-fashioned version of a toaster. They do have some rather delicious honey-herb butter for it, as well. Jyslin also produces goat's milk to top it off. "We can both keep aware. Hopefully we can find something to bring down today. Otherwise, I will go hunting tonight." the priestess explains.
Better the tigress feed on game than on party members, yes?
"I noticed you found my communing very interesting, Syval." Andie observes. "If you have questions, we can discuss as we walk today. I will do what I can to explain."
<OOC> Jyslin Brenlas snugs Syval.
<OOC> Vanya surprised but receptive hug back.
<OOC> Jyslin Brenlas says, "Do you have your backscroll, or do you want me to recap a bit?"
<OOC> Vanya says, "I've got it."
<OOC> Jyslin Brenlas paws-up!
<OOC> Vanya says, "Heh!"
<OOC> Vanya does also need to occasionally remind himself how young you look thanks to the cat-curse.
<OOC> Vanya says, "And then I have to remind myself that in a Shaar setting, I should mentally add another 2-4 years back for what that'd be in modern American terms."
<OOC> Vanya says, "So it kind of cancels out in the end."
<OOC> Jyslin Brenlas chuckles.
"It was... quite a sight," Syval admits. "Nothing like what I've seen druids do. It felt different."
While a druidess of Selune is not entirely unheard-of, it's a rare thing, as the usual suspects are far more common, including Silvanus, Chauntea, the Jade Queen, and powers of other pantheons. The young-seeming moonpriestess with the ancient soul has made no secret of her faith, though her demonstrations have been subtle for the most part.
Jyslin glances up from the cooking fire, her green eyes reflecting some of the fire's light as she does so. "Mmmm? Well, yes. From what I have seen, my transformation is outwardly somewhat like that of a druid's wildshape." Given her own mother followed that path and profession, she would know. "My blessing from Selune as a moonpriestess makes my own transformation more like that than it was, or would have been." There's a hint of tension in the ashen blonde's voice, concern over how her revelation will be received. But she will not lie.
"I am a weretigress. In my case, I was infected, savaged by some years ago when a party I was guiding encroached upon their territory while they were gravid." Jyslin's choice of words is one obliquely applied when speaking of women who are heavily pregnant. "I managed to get them to back off without hurting them, and saved my party members. But not without taking damage myself."
Jyslin falls silent for a bit as she continues toasting breakfast. Syval may notice Neosodos slithering through the grass and rubbing himself against her knee and calf in a reassuring manner. This is clearly a troubling tale for her.
"A month later, while I was on night watch, I transformed. I did not harm anyone in the party, but I had no way of knowing that. When they confronted me in the morning, they sent me away." Jyslin does not mention that one of 'they' was her lover at the time. "I left the Misty Vale and headed to Shiertalar, hoping the priestesses at the Hall of the Heavens could cure me." With a moon-tied curse, it makes sense to look to the cult of the moon for aid, right?
"Instead, Mother Shanna insisted that I remain under their protection and tutelage." Jyslin explains. "They trained me to understand the transformation, and in so doing I found the calling of my heart, and converted as a moonpriestess. After my consecration, I found my transformation no longer destroyed my clothing, nor left me tangled up in armor or gear. Instead, those things transformed with me, much as my mothers' had for her as a druidess."
Once done, Jyslin distributes the toasted breads for breakfast and begins a quick clean-up, packing things away so that the journey of the day can begin without further delay.
<OOC> Vanya says, "Interruption. AFK."
<OOC> Vanya says, "Okay I'm back now."
<OOC> Jyslin Brenlas huggles. "Welcome back. You OK?"
<OOC> Vanya says, "Yup! Just family."
<OOC> Jyslin Brenlas says, "Well, they're entitled. You're you, after all."
<OOC> Vanya says, "Ended up showing more of how to use chess.com, playing a game of rapid chess, going over a donation pile I'd made today, little similar close-out discussions before I leave tomorrow morning."
<OOC> Vanya says, "Could have kind of done with deferring the chess game but it all worked out. Mostly productive time spent."
Syval listens through Jyslin's answer though his brow furrows at the mention of weretigers. But once she's done, he simply sits back down with his pack and rummages through it for his bowl and utensils. "That's a long journey you went on. So you're infected with weretiger forever? Have you found any hope for a cure or do you just... live with it now?"
Jyslin shares the spreads for the toast, and the walking begins. "No cure, at this point. I've accepted the blessing of Selune, and with it I have become a weretigress, through and through, as if born to it."
Andie does not interrupt for a while, but does eventually pipe up with a bit of something to share. "Therianthropy is a circumstance often misunderstood by most. Even many of the faithful of Selune may not truly understand its power, its origins, its vectors or its many forms." Trust a witch to have some dire pronouncements and secret knowledge, right? "For instance, since the most common varieties encountered are the wererat and the werehyena, much of humanity hates and fears all therianthropes as evil. But while those two breeds are indeed primarily and seemingly almost universally evil, nothing is sure or certain."
Andie turns and smiles at the blonde at her side. "As mighty as the weretigers are, and as fearsome as they can be, they are not universally evil. Most are in fact largely neutral, while some are good and others evil. Sadly, the greatest of them in this age is evil, and rules in Ashai, which does tend to darken their reputation amongst those where Jyslin and I usually make our home."
<OOC> Vanya says, "Er, right. Toast with smear. >.<"
<OOC> Vanya says, "I swear I'll get back into the swing of this scene right as it's time for bed at this rate. Sorry."
<OOC> Jyslin Brenlas kiss forehead. "S'okay. RP is RP. I'll take what I can get."
"Therianthropy?" Syval sounds out as he drags a generous smear across his breakfast bread. If it is a topic taught at his academy, the green-haired young man probably slept through it. It only takes a moment or two for him to repack his back and shoulder it before he's once again walking with the pair (plus Neos), bardiche in hand and tapping the ground beside him like a walking stick. "Are they related to your witch magic at all?" he asks of Andie. "That wasn't the magic of wizards or nature."
"Therianthropy is a clutch of different but very similar circumstances, the blending or melding of animal natures and that of people, most often humans." Other races are not immune, but discussing the different resistances is perhaps more than Andie wants to get into just now. "Also called werecreatures, there are those who are 'natural' or sometimes 'true' therianthropes, born with the might. They are generally stronger, and also better adjusted, better able to control their dual nature. Like Jyslin now." Andie reaches out to squeeze the blonde's hand reassuringly.
"The bite of a therianthrope can carry the power into the blood, as a magical disease, a curse. Those who fall victim become what are called 'afflicted' or 'infected' therianthropes." Andie explains. "Like Jyslin began. It is only through the blessons of Selune during her consecration as a priestess that Jyslin's affliction was transformed into a blessing, becoming natural. The afflicted are often not even consciously aware of their dual nature, transforming in their sleep and acting on animal instincts borne by the curse."
Jyslin speaks up now, not about the in-depth details, but just to relate all of this to herself. "That is why my party sent me away. They were afraid of me for what I had become, and afraid I would attack them, possibly infecting more of them." Still there is a sad bitterness to her words.
Andie gives Jyslin's hand another squeeze, then resumes her tale. "The origins of therianthropy are not widely known, but it is believed that they were created by shaman of great power in dark and ancient times, imbued into others as either a dark mark and punishment for transgressions, or as a dangerous blessing laid upon champions in times of great need." No need for her to panic anyone by explaining she was around for several of those incidents in the 'bad old days'. Witches are creepy enough without being revealed as immortal fonts of eternal knowledge. "It is deep and primordial magic. It is quite possible some of the strains of therianthropy began as the curse or blessing of a witch."
"Hmm..." Syval vocalizes thoughtfully and chews over the matter with toast. It's a lot to take in surely. "There is a lot of magic in the world... I've got some of it in me too, but then I'm from the Forest of Amlar. You can't walk five steps in those woods without tripping over a fey or something else. Not sure what kind it is... but I've never had much trouble looking after myself," the young man admits with a respectful glance to his bardiche. "Grasslands like these aren't my favorite, but I'll manage. Less places for things to hide this way."
From Andie's shoulder Neosodos turns his head towards Syval and croons a warbling sound. It's at once a bit like laughing, a bit like crying, and a bit just like a cat meowing, all mixed up together. "Poorrrrrr leetle brotherrrrrr." the eldritch wyrm offers in Shaaren.
Andie reaches up absently to stroke the reptilian creature's head as she nods. "It is true, there are many kinds, or flavors of the Art. The oldest, most difficult to control, and arguably most powerful is the primordial. It is that which witches learn to study and embrace, even as they learn to adapt what they can of it to the arcane pathways. Rituals are always best for the primordial, offering the greatest facility for control."
Jyslin picks up, then; this seems to be a conversational path worn smooth for these two. "Just as old is the divine, carried by prayer. But the divine is not shaped by the will of the caster as much as by the will of the Power granting it. It is a sort of cooperative union of wills, the very nature of prayer and communion."
Andie picks up from there. "The youngest path is also the sort with some of the greatest innovation: the path of the arcane, using prescribed rituals of knowledge and pattern to shape the Art to the caster's own will. It is weaker in some ways to the primordial or the divine, and definitely different. But it is the one kind that is uniquely mortal. The greatest of the arcane path are the dragons, whom it is said were the first to discover it, the gift of their goddess through the sacrifice of Aurum, marked by the Cauldron."
Neosodos receives a puzzled look before Syval turns back to Andie. "Dragons use the same magic as people? I've never heard of one studying a spell book before..." he asks in clear surprise. "So what you did this morning was primordial magic? That felt... purer than the magick of the academy, more natural. Is that something you can teach?" With a flick of his gaze the question goes as much to the witch as it does to her wyrm familiar.
The pseudodragon gives a wheezy sort of chortling hiss, an odd kind of laughter that must be a unique approximation for the little wyrm. Andie smiles, offering a nod at the first question, and again at the second. The third gets a bit of a shrug.
"I would not say dragons use the same magic as people. They are, after all, quite different beings, far more naturally imbued with raw magic than any other race of which I am aware." Yet Andie does not make the assumption that she truly knows of every race. Just that she certainly knows most far better than even most sages. "Dragons were the first to practice the arcane, and their pathways to shape it are different than most. I have heard it said that most can invoke their spells and will with little more than a glance and a word or three in their language."
Of course she's heard it said to be so; from a few dragons she herself has known over the millennia. Including the one riding on her right now.
<OOC> Vanya creaks a bit. z.z
<OOC> Vanya says, "I think I'll need to pause here tonight."
<OOC> Jyslin Brenlas smooch. "OK. Having fun, I hope?"
<OOC> Vanya says, "Yes. I think I need to revisit my Syval sheet a little before we resume, get into his head a little better. I've not been anywhere near parity on the big poses you've been throwing out."
<OOC> Vanya says, "Though apparently my hunch was right on Neri RP. I did lose a solid half hour or so in there."
<OOC> Jyslin Brenlas nuzzles. "Well, if you wanna brainstorm while working on the character sheet, I'm happy to help."
