Journey Day 04 PM Dragon Form

With the mental shielding ward in place on the group, none are bothered with the taunting mindvoice again that day, as they hike steadily eastward with a prompt step, everyone seeming to have decided it best to maximize the distance they put between themselves and that voice. By mutual agreement the party pushes on for a few extra hours as things darken, only finally making camp as the last remnants of light are fading over the horizon. The group has not quite made it a full 12 miles, but it is close to ten, which is most of a full day's journey on this terrain without a road to follow.

Setting up the camp has become rather a simple and automatic affair, with tents and watchfly assembled first, then camp- and cook-fire assembled next, and finally the opening of the satchel beneath the watchfly just to assure if it rains the cavern does not become flooded. Jyslin sets to skinning the rabbits caught earlier and spits them, making roast bunny as that will go faster than attempting to cook up a stew since everything is running late tonight.

Once all three tents and the watchfly are assembled, Honoria settles down once more, peeling off her armor and going through a night's care for the invaluable gear with a reverence that shows clearly the value she places in it. Neosodos leaves her to her work and thoughts and returns to Andie for a while, since he has been away most of the day at this point.

Syval as is his want disappears into the satchel for study in the dim cavern but not before stopping by Honoria and offering, "<If you'd like answers to your questions earlier, you may visit me in the cavern. We have time for talk now.>"

<OOC> Syval says, "Oh I am a disorganized fool! There was a hooded lantern in the cave the entire time. Honoria could have lit that yesterday!"

<OOC> Jhiao Ting Li grins.

<OOC> Syval figured he'd take a moment to organize his inventory while awaiting your next pose.

"< You can do your studying. I will finish my task and join you soon. >" Honoria answers; it is the first time she has not immediately turned to meet his gaze when she spoke with him, a clear sign of how intent she is on the task at hand.

As such, it is about thirty minutes later when Honoria enters the cavern wearing only her gambeson and other undergear, though she still keeps her belt with sword and collapsed lance, and carries her shield. One might even imagine she would bathe with that shield at hand. The tall crown-braided woman glances around the cavern again as she enters, then moves to Syval's side based on the outline afforded by the light from the fire through the cavern's open doorway. Then she sits down, quietly, so as not to interrupt if he is still studying. She does lay down her water skin between them.

<OOC> Syval says, "Could you please remind me how your lance looks collapsed down? We're not talking ruyi jingu bang 'stored in the ear' but somewhere in between I take it."

<OOC> Syval says, "And I'm going to guess a white gambeson, just because? :)"

<OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "Hunh? Whut?"

<OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "THe lance collapsed down by telescoping; so the blade head folded in and then it telescoped down to an oddly-shaped thick rod of about 2-2.5 feet in length, which is then shoved through a loop on her belt."

<OOC> Syval says, "Ruyi Jingu Bang is the original "collapsing staff" of Chinese myth that began the trope, e.g. Dragonball's Power Pole. That one the wielder literally stored tucked inside his ear because it could shrink down to almost nothing."

<OOC> Syval says, "Ah thank you."

<OOC> Syval says, "And just to ensure I understood PF's fractional preparation RAW right, it'd take me 15m to prepare the Light cantrip leaving me a little time to begin work on another page of the spellbook, right?"

<OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "Yes."

<OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "At a minimum to do the starting decyphering, even if not yet the transcription/rewriting in your own book."

In what may be a refreshing change for the strange mage, the knight finds Syval reading peaceably from a spell book while occasionally writing in a smaller soft-covered book beside it with an ink pen, though how the mage is doing it is another question to solve. The spell book's cover and pages are frayed and burnt, missing some of their arcane characters.

Syval pauses his study as Honoria approaches and unscrews the metal tip from his simple wooden stylus, allowing the excess ink to drain back into the little vial beside him. Fair enough his own bardiche is resting beside him and as he looks up with a welcoming smile there's no concern taken with the knight's weapon or shield. If anything he'd be more surprised if she arrived without it. "<Don't mind all this, I was just passing time,>" he assures, and the firelight gives a faint shine to his eyes. "<Sorry if it's too dark over here but tonight we have a lantern.>"

Fishing into the pouch at his waist, Syval pulls speaks an incantation then touches his hand to an object at his side. Faint light begins to shine within the darkness, building and growing to the brightness of a torch yet steady and stable, without heat. Suitably, the green-haired mage enchanted the body of a hooded lantern.

Now better able to be seen, he turns himself to face the ancient knight and straightens his robes, allowing her to start.

<OOC> Syval says, ""*resting at his side..." less repetitive that way."

<OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "Just checking: is this your lantern? Or the one from the hill giant treasure?"

<OOC> Syval says, "From the hill giants."

<OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "OK. Luckily for you I decided NOT to make that what I had originally intended. :)"

<OOC> Syval says, "It was stored in the cavern and I'm in the cavern, so it seems a more appropriate prop than a plain stone or one of the golden rocks."

<OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "Though you'd have been warned beforehand that it was magical in that case. :)"

<OOC> Syval says, "Thankfully I do have the modicum of caution to inspect things for magic after acquiring them, though come to think of it that would be less well instilled in the Shaar since it's so very rare to find permanent magical enchantments."

<OOC> Syval says, "Still, worth checking just in case for how quick the procedure is. You were considering a trap lantern or a genie perhaps?"

<OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "Not a djinni. But ... something. Yes."

<OOC> Jhiao Ting Li was considering an efreeti, or perhaps a demon lamp.

Honoria raises her hand and covers her eyes as the lamp flares to life, shielding her eyes so that she can adjust slowly to the stark contrast. Once she has adjusted, she turns to regard the mage curiously. "You ... you are actually able to see the pages, to study the spells, in the dark?" Sure, she saw the shine of his eyes, but she had not yet realized the extent of the ability. Not consciously at the last.

<OOC> Syval says, "My that would have been hazardous. And thinking about it now I would have enjoyed using a golden rock, but the social fun of using a lantern as a Light source won over appreciation for shiny."

<OOC> Jhiao Ting Li nodnods. "Not a problem. I like it. And hooded, you can eventually use a continual light spell and just shut the hood to damp it when you wish."

Syval takes his bardiche in one hand and threads its pommel through the ring of the lantern, lifting and placing it some distance to the side to dim the light and place it a little more upon himself, though it still stretches shadows across half of his face. The young wizard nods as he sets his bardiche down then sets to the last tidying of his books, tucking the reassembled stylus into his travel spell book and returning the larger one to rest beside a similarly damaged twin. "Yes, I need very little light to see by. The campfire is plenty and outside when the moon is out I can see as well as in the day -- and no, it's not a spell," Syval replies in a plain, informative tone.

<OOC> Syval says, "This is how you know I'm still an apprentice mage, or rather that I never needed to use Light for myself: I didn't enchant a rock and drop it into the lantern's oil pan to that effect. I enchanted the lantern body so it's stuck always on."

<OOC> Syval says, "*"dim the light and position it a little more..." So much poor wording from me tonight."

<OOC> TEST

<OOC> Syval says, "Could you say something <OOC> for me please? I'd like to test my audio trigger."

<OOC> Jhiao Ting Li tests.

<OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "I then test like this, too."

<OOC> Syval says, "Ack you caught me just as I was typing something. Nevermind the test for now then. Thank you for helping."

<OOC> Syval realizes after a moment's thought that it must be dead silent in a cavern this size save our voices and the movements of our clothes and carried gear. There's no water, nothing passing through the portal, not even any bats. (finished message)

<OOC> Syval swears he did not mean to make visiting him so ominous for Honoria.

<OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "There is a very tiny bit of ambient sound that filters in through the doorway, and from the cellar door to the above. But it's only the very tiniest bit. Insect crawling sorts of things."

<OOC> Syval says, "Oh yeah the unnatural looking mage who speaks in tongues studying spells in a pitch black cave and inviting the princess into talk... self-awareness check, failed."

<OOC> Syval says, "*in to talk"

<OOC> Syval says, "Thank you for the clarification. Now then, sorry. Didn't mean to distract from your pose."

Honoria seems to show no overt concern over this, simply nodding. "I would not have expected that. I know that Jyslin can do that, but then I happen to know how, and why." She knows the priesthood of Selune well, even if she herself did not follow that path. "I assume your own ability is not from the same source? Perhaps some item of the Art? Or a minor spell you have mastered?" He's a mage, after all.

Syval shakes his head. "Nothing of the sort. I was born with it, same as the hair and the eyes, though I remember realizing when I was a kid why everyone kept so much extra light around them at night so perhaps it's something I grew into - like being eye-level with you," he notes with an appreciative smile. "I can't imagine someone like me looked any more normal during your time, you don't have to be polite about it." The young man scratches his neck awkwardly. "You had magic in your birth too, right? You're not 'just' a princess?"

<OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "Probably going to be my last; it's pretty much bedtime."

<OOC> Syval says, "Sad but true for me too. I'm getting ready for bed in the background. There's never enough moonlight for these."

Honoria is not used to those she considers near her own station bringing up the nature of her birth and height; most just tend to pretend it just is what it is and its reason and nature do not matter. But she does incline her head a bit, nodding. "Yes. There was something of magic about my birth, or at least a blessing laid upon me that was not upon most of my house. I was the third born of my family, and I was born upon the ninth of Ches." A great many threes, and in a land as superstitious as the Shaar - when those superstitions actually hold weight and value and importance, because they are real and they work! - that's a big deal.

"By the time I was seven I was already taller than my eldest sibling." Stronger too, not long thereafter, but Honoria doesn't bring that up. "Sister Autreanne was said to have been present at my birth." Well, it could be worse or weirder: she could have said Autreanne was the midwife at her birth!

"Thrice-blessed then," Syval infer succinctly with a smile that's kind to the news and even a little envious. And since Honoria has given her answer the young man returns the favor, though as he does his smile slips back a bit. "Seems Chipira had plans for both of us, though only Andie may know mine and she's not sharing. I'm what I guess you can call touched; no blessed, no cursed, no divine tap on the little baby nose. Somehow... I've got green dragon in me. The rest all comes from that," the wizard confesses with a glance upwards to the striking green of his hair.

The tall golden blonde's soft grey eyes widen noticeably at that description. "I ... No. Just doubly-blessed." Clearly she is intimidated or affected by that particular turn of phrase. "Chipira and Selune both, at least where I am concerned." Honoria admits. She is the goddess of Destiny, after all, and this young woman quite clearly has a destiny.

But when Syval mentions that he is touched by a green dragon, she visibly tenes up and stares intently. There's real concern there. "Touched ... by a green dragon. That seems ... terrible, and dangerous." It's a frakking dragon. Amongst humans, 'when dealing with dragons: don't!' The lady knight considers this; still concerned. But there's something else going on, some other calculus she's not talking about. "I have never heard of anyone 'touched' by dragons, save to be destroyed."

<OOC> Syval says, "Agh I forgot to write the full name of the Delzimmer academy in my sheet. What's it called again? And it's part of the... Wizard's Alliance? "Magical Alliance?""

Syval tenses as well when Honoria first reacts, but then relaxes at least somewhat when she doesn't run or draw a weapon. "Nor have I, nor has any book in any library I've scoured for most of ten years, but it's what I am. The others know already but didn't see fit to tell me - the witch's plan I'm sure. I only discovered it myself two days ago." The day before Honoria's rebirth.

The young mage scratches uncomfortably at his neck as he pauses before deciding to get everything else out in the open. He may as well. "You asked earlier how I ended up studying at the Academy. Well, because it's the only place you go in this region if you have potential in the Art. My parents were woodcutters in the Forest of Amlar, large and magical woods to the west filled mostly with elves and much more dangerous things. Druids had found me in the woods as an infant and brought me to the nearest human settlement. They adopted me and when I was growing up a wizard visited to conduct a magic test on all the children. I passed so I got sent to the wizard's academy in Delzimmer, at the edge of this mountain range. We're about four days' walk east of it now - we only just set out before finding you."

There is in this pause a brief return of happiness from the dragon-touched young man. Honoria needn't worry that her company is a welcome one, even with the language barrier. "I was about... six when I began study. Most of the other kids were nobles from your class and while I wasn't the worst one my skills with the Art never compared to the brighter students - much less the teachers. Yet..." Syval spreads his arms, gesturing to himself and all he entails. "I grew as if I were part giant, I can see in the dark as well as an elf, I have hair like no race of man, and I've never in my life needed a healing poultice, splint, or cleric's aid. You've seen that in our earlier fights," he recalls and shows his hand before the light. "I healed fine from the gnolls in less time than it took Jyslin to return from scouting, I nearly cut my finger off on the bracelet we found, and I've broken a bone enough times when I was younger. Never needed more than a few minutes before I'm right again."

<OOC> Syval says, "Pulled afk by phone?"

<OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "No. I'm hunting through Discord logs trying to find the name we gave for the Academy."

<OOC> Syval laughs. "You too, eh? I tried and failed. "Academy" is all I got. Perhaps we didn't name it."

<OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "OK. If you've already looked and have not found anything, then I'm going to assume we haven't named it in full yet. So we need to probably create the Delzimmer page and start putting notes at least on its talk page on these things as a central reference."

<OOC> Syval says, "How about the alliance name?"

<OOC> Jhiao Ting Li would say the school is called The High College, a play on education, and Azuth's title of the High One.

<OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "The alliance that exists regionally would, I think, be best named the Electrum Circle. Which includes the wizards at the academy, but also others in the region."

Honoria just shakes her head a bit, confounded. She's genuinely not sure how to take all of that in and deal with it. "I would imagine, Syval, that given how rare your very existence might be, and given that it ties to things that are distinctly beyond human ken, that if either of them were aware of your nature, they would have had little if any advice for you in handling it, and so hinged their efforts on the only dragon amongst them. One whom, I note, you do not seem angry at or disappointed in." Her perspective is skewed, certainly, but hers is one that has seen much, and knows witches intimately.

"So your parents as you knew them adopted you. And you know nothing truthfully of your origin, save that the druids found you and brought you to the human settlement. Interesting indeed." As to his supposed classless stature, she seems to pay it no mind whatsoever; her own nobility was ash before it was beyond the dust of history, after all. He is human - if also draconic - and that is all that matters to Honoria.

"From what little I know of dragons - they avoided the war, and I certainly had no time to seek them out - tells me that they have known magic since before humanity even existed. They are the eldest race, before elves, giants, dwarves. The only other thing I know of their magic is that it was always described to me as being inborn within them, a very part of their blood, breath and thought." All the hyperbole of mythology ... or is it?

"Other things you describe ... it is curious." Honoria makes a face. "I am no expert. But they are things I have seen and heard of relating to Children of Selune ... or the Reavers of Malar."

Syval frowns lightly at the knight's mention of Andie and Jyslin but leaves the point alone. He has more to say it seems but nothing positive. The young man nods to her assessment of draconic magic and their history. "From what I've read and from what Neos has explained, they're the oldest of races with Art, if it can share a name with what humans do. We have a 'spark'," he explains, setting a hand to his breast. "It's easier I'm sure for Neos but I'm learning how to touch mine. It's a connection to the Weave, like what I feel casting a spell the academy's way but from the inside, and dragon 'casting' is supposed to be like speaking. Art and primordial are the same for them."

"Are you thinking of the Gift? Like the Daerrynae?" he asks, furrowing his brow lightly in thought. It may not be surprising that the wizard knows those word in Maenast. "Who are the Reavers of Malar?"

Honoria nods along, listening as Syval explains what he feels inside, how it works and how Neosodos has explained it. "Indeed. Draconic Art, so far as I know, is primordial." But at the mention of the Daerrynae Honoria visibly tenses, and this time she backs up, shaking her head. "Nay. Nay, never that." She sighs. "Reavers of Malar are the coin's other face to the Children of Selune. Manbeasts of ravening and bloodlust. Like the werehyenas. Even the Cantare would not treat with their like. One of a very few things upon which both sides agreed."

That draws a definite reaction from the young wizard and Syval eyes the blonde knight curiously. "Well dragons have little kin to werehyenas or the Reavers of Malar then, but perhaps being from similar time their magicks are similar. Do the Daerrynae mean something different in your time than in mine? Any writings on them that survived are very scarce, most would call them myth." But not, it seems, the green-haired wizard.

<OOC> Syval works on bed prep.

Honoria shakes her head. "I mean only that you ... you are not a dragon." She gestures towards Syval as if this should be self-evident. "Just as, neither is Jyslin a tiger. And yet, she also is. And she feels what a tiger feels. Knows what a tiger knows. And her body thrums with the magic of that synergy and bond, able by nature itself and without any study to do the same: to know scent as no woman ever could, to see in the dark, and to heal impossibly quickly if not slain by her wounds." Honoria shrugs. "Perhaps ... perhaps like the Reavers, or the Children, you are ... as you said, touched. Human, and dragon. But like those, that leaves you then with a choice to face."

As for the Daerrenae, Honoria sighs. "I ... I know not much of the First Created." She admits. "But what we do know is that theirs is a terrible power, to be feared rightly. They are supposed to be gone, but there were rumors - perhaps merely campfire tales, but I heard them nonetheless - that some of their ilk survived still." There is still a fear there. "But ... I also heard, just once. I heard Shakarn say that Autreanne's great power came as much from her Daerynnae blood as from the Art." And as much as she idolizes Autreanne, she is afraid of her, too.

"I'm not afraid of power," Syval assures with an even conviction, something he's thought on more than once in the short time since discovering his inner spark. "I've searched most of my life for what was different about me and where my magic came from. A chromatic green is only a little better than it being a fiend but that's still an answer for me, and we've a long and dangerous journey ahead of us. We'll need whatever power's in my little wyrmling spark if we're to reach our destination."

The young man shifts in his seat and crosses his legs. He smiles in a small way but eagerly and proudly in a way that warmly lights his eyes. "Touching it is getting easier already, in just a few hours of practice rather than struggling over incomprehensible tomes for years just to summon a weak flicker of light... I can tell it's in my nature, that it's the right way for me to reach the Weave." Syval glances to the glowing lantern, perhaps judging how long its enchanted light will last. "Would you like to stay for a demonstration? I can't guarantee it will work but over lunchtime... I think I learned how to transform."

Honoria listens to and considers what Syval has to say. "It is not so much about fearing power, Syval of Amlar. It is about fearing the prices of power. For some do not make themselves known easily, and they are vast and terrible. Especially when that power is from something beyond human ken." And can there be anything more beyond human ken than something that is of dragons? "I cannot advise you better than that. The choice is and always will remain yours. And I will respect it, and you." Of course, Honoria is a princess and a knight; the old fables talk about those who dare to charge and spear dragons with their lances.

That's all bunk, though, right?

"Trasnsform." Honoria takes that in, rocking a bit. "So, more like Jyslin than not." She thinks, mulling it over. "I would think you would want someone with you. If it will not be Neosodos, then I will stay and watch. There may be nothing at all I can do to help. But if it goes wrong, I can go out and call him."

"The only thing going wrong should be that I can't... or I breathe poison gas. You may want to move aside, just in case," Syval admits thoughtfully as he takes hold of his robes and slips them off his shoulders before pulling his arms free to bare himself from the waist up. "Forgive me, but I don't want new wings making new holes in my clothes."

The small green gem hanging from Syval's neck glints in the arcane lamplight as the young man gives Honoria an apologetic though not shy smile before tucking his arms in his lap and closing his eyes. The apprentice mage lets out a slow breath then begins the mental process of meditating upon his spark.

<OOC> Syval says, "Will take-10 = 21 (+11)"

Honoria moves well off to the side, putting herself much closer to the exit and its available fresh air. Then she resettles and waits, remaining quiet; she wouldn't want to be the reason for him having a problem.

Syval really does seem to be getting the handle on this, at least in the quiet of the cavern. It takes him several minutes, but he is able to clear his mind, until finally there is only the void ... and the spark.

And the roar.

<OOC> Syval says, "Will take-10 = 21 (+11) (again)"

The spark continues to be slippery, but Syval - after an initial moment of frustration - manages to keep himself calm enough to just methodically breathe through and keep trying until finally he can seize the spark and hold onto it. The roar sounds louder, reverberating through his body - or so it feels like, as the energy suffuses him. That glint of potential and possibility, awaiting his effort. His intent. His will.

The young mage continues past the roar, affected less by it with each visit and as he's begun coming to terms with its presence. This time it's not only a foreign terror but a stunning display of his heritage. Whether or not the roar is something he could match with time, this time there's a feeling of kinship. Wary, frightened kinship, but kinship nonetheless.

And this time Syval tries to bring that out, taking hold of his spark and channeling it in the same way he had in the field before but this time without resistance. He lets it flood and fill his body and where scales itch to sprout from his skin he lets them, where horns press to break out the back of head he lets them, and where the spark surges at the skin of his back he lets it. The question now is how much of a transformation the draconic neophyte can accomplish, and how much truly changes.

<OOC> Syval says, "Will take-10 = 21 (+11) (unless otherwise noted)"

<OOC> Syval will be taking 10 on everything that he can focus uninterrupted on.

<OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "In this case, there's a potential consequence for failure. So we have to roll. If your focus wavers and you don't pick the right thing, you get a result you haven't planned for."

<OOC> Syval says, "That's only a criteria of take-20 I thought? Where you assume 20 because you can retry without penalty as long as you need." Syval rolls Will (1d20+11) and gets 15 (4)

<OOC> Jhiao Ting Li re-reads. "You are correct. So long as you are in no immediate danger and not being distracted, you can choose to take 10.

<OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "And while we are using Will, we are not using it as a saving throw."

<OOC> Syval says, "That said I'm not disputing if this moment deserves a roll instead of a take-10, just commenting on the justification. :)"

<OOC> Syval says, "Thus you have both. Use whichever is most suitable."

<OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "50/50 shot; give me a percentile roll, please."

<OOC> Syval says, "Ooh, tension..." Syval rolls Percentage (1d100+0) and gets 94 (94)

<OOC> Syval says, "The fact that Honoria is watching has nooothing to do with what just happened. <.< >.>"

A few minutes of additional focus allows Syval to sift through the 'facets' beneath the 'surface' of the spark until he can find the one that to his mind feels like the hard edges of a scale. And when he finally puts his will into that facet of the spark, he can feel the sensations erupting through is body, those curious hints from before: the scrape of scale edges along the inside of his skin; pressure along his spine at the base which is making sitting uncomfortable. More pressure along the shoulders and back. And aching along the jaw and brow.

The transformation truly releases when an image comes to the forefront of Syval's mind, blotting out almost all other conscious thought. The mental image of a green scaled biped with claws on hands and feet, digitigrade legs, a mighty tale and voluminous leather wings, a reptilian head at the end of an only slightly more elongated neck. Some kind of blend of Syval's human form and the imagined form of a mighty green dragon.

What follows is a good several minutes as bones snap, tendons pop and twist, muscles tear, bulk up, and surge. Scales rip through flesh and then spread to cover the body. The spine lengthens, twisting painfully, aching, causing a tremendous headache as the pressure then rips out through cheeks and jaw. There is no way to contain the cry which then goes raw and twists into a roar of pain as the body is transmogrified.

<OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "Fortitude saving throw, please?" Syval rolls Fortitude (1d20+8) and gets 14 (6)

<OOC> Syval says, "*mighty tail :)"

<OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "Syval blacks out for a bit."

<OOC> Syval says, "Uh-oh. I think you captured everything I could say for the transformation itself so your pose again as I come to afterwards?"

<OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "Give me one more Will check; I want to see if something in particular happens while you're out."

<OOC> Syval says, "Certainly doesn't make sense to take-10 on this one. For one I'm out cold. For two it's not the moment for taking things easy. :)" Syval rolls Will (1d20+11) and gets 19 (8)

Syval blacks out as the pain overtakes his mind. There is no way for him to know how long he is out before finally he becomes aware of his surroundings once more. He is lying face -- no, wait. He is lying JAW-down on the cavern floor. And as his mind comes back to him, he can smell ... dragon. Two sources of dragon. And his consciousness can clearly detect the presences of dragons in the area, both the one he senses from above the cavern, and those beyond the doorway.

And he can small warm blood. A human. A woman. And magical metal.

The wizard's consciousness returns reticently with a dull ache hanging upon it in a way that makes thoughts distant and sluggish at first. Slowly, through a haze, the smells and feelings of the cavern return to him. There are the two dragons - yes those were there before. There is cold, unyielding stone - he must have fallen forward somehow. And there is blood, human blood, a woman's blood--

Syval's eyes snap open with a start and the rest of his mind comes crashing back together alert and panicked as a cold feeling of dread creeps up his spine at what he's about to find. "Honoria?!"

<OOC> Syval smiles at fresh lentil soup and offers a bowl. "Careful, it's piping hot."

But one of those dragons ... is right here.

SYval's voice is mangled and confused, his mouth not responding as it should. It sounds more like a wordless bellow. It most certainly does not manage either Shaaren or Maenast, let alone Draconic.

"< Rest easy, Brother. Easy. You are fine. Changed, as should be, but fine. And the lady knight is as well. She does not heal such that you do. She tried to catch you as you fell, and cut herself upon your horns. Once I was here to look after you, she had Jyslin clean and dress the wound. "> a soft and familiar voice offers in Draconic, which translates as smoothly as ever.

Neosodos moves around a bit gingerly, putting himself into the view of those big eyes of Syval's. "< Nod your big head if you can understand me? >" he asks and waits. Once confirmed, he nods as well. "< Alright. Let's try this more slowly with some concentration and intention. Remember: your instincts are for a bipedal humanoid body. You are bigger, now. Bulkier. Stronger. With large wings on your back, a tail coming off your spine longer than your legs, claws on all four limbs. Lay there a bit. Wiggle each muscle. Learn the feel of them, the nerves that go with them. Get a sense of all of what you are. Then start deciding how to move without tripping yourself. >"

Neo doesn't have a lot of advice; he's never seen a //bipedal dragon// before. Sorry.

Syval's relief betrays itself in the way tension drains from his body at the Eldritch Wyrm's noiseless answer. Honoria's safe, if a little scratched up. The wizard's breathing comes in quick puffs but they're already slowing when he nods to the mottled red and golden drake, looking up at him for the first time.

Closing his eyes, he does as instructed, finding Neos' guidance natural to follow. Maybe it's the transformation but the elder dragon's expansive 'voice' carries a weight of wisdom that makes it easy to trust.

Moving one body part at a time along the same paths as his earlier meditation, Syval focuses himself, feeling and then testing his head, core, limbs... oh, wow. Those are very new.

Before anything greater, the transformed wizard tries simply to move his hands by his shoulders and push himself up onto his hands and knees.

<OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "No. He's talking, now. Hence the quotes instead of << >>"

<OOC> Syval says, "Er, whoops. Me misreading, thank you for correcting."

More aware of changes in balance and such, Syval is able to then push himself up, and now he is well above the tiny drake still offering his guidance. "< Good job. One last reminder: when you start moving your lower half, try to remember to think about tail position. Honoria is back there, watching you, and that tail of yours is not exactly harmless. I think she's out of range, but not if things go wrong. >" Neosodos offers. "< Also, sitting down is likely to feel different, now that you have a tail. Just ... try to be prepared to adapt. >"

When Syval rises, Honoria speaks up in Maenast, not able to understand the Draconic being spoken. "< Syval, are you alright? Neosodos, is he alright? I could not understand his speaking earlier. >"

<OOC> Syval internally facefaults. The one place he was hoping she was not. Really hoping that tail came out *above* the belt but pretty sure it didn't...

Syval grunts as he rises off the cool rocks and takes a chance to look at his arms, his hands, his... claws. The dracomage turns his head around, far around, at the sound of Honoria's voice. He nods in reply, not yet trusting his own voice, then promptly goes cross-eyed at the snout protruding from his face.

<OOC> Syval says, "So~ many things to get used to."

<OOC> Jhiao Ting Li grins.

<OOC> Jhiao Ting Li is happy she could entertain you. :)

<OOC> Jhiao Ting Li is leaving this in your han -- er. Claws.

<OOC> Syval says, "They're still hands I think. They're either hands or talons. Claws are just the nail part."

<OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "They're hands unlike any you've ever had before."

<OOC> Syval says, "I still have all five digits?"

<OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "Yes."

Honoria watches this, and as he turns his head around to look Syval can actually see her still sitting by the door out of the cavern. She waves a hand when he is looking, but then she sees him crossing his eyes and puts her hand down, waiting. Clearly he and Neosodos have things they need to work out.

Neosodos watches Syval working things out, and he waits to see what comes next.

<OOC> Syval says, "What comes out if I try to speak Draconic now, since it's not a language I consciously know how to speak?"

<OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "Give me a Lnguistics check." Syval rolls Linguistics (1d20+6) and gets 13 (7)

<OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "He's gonna mangle it a bit. Still hasn't adjusted to his new mouth-shape. But. He will find he can now make some of the sounds Neosodos is making, which he's pretty sure he never could have before. He just needs to practice."

"< Sorry, I-- >" What comes out is hopelessly distorted Maenast and Syval stops after only a second before turning back forward to sigh. Then he tries to get his feet under him and sit back, only to have the base of his tail press against the cavern floor and bend him forward uncomfortably. The weredragon grunts and pushes himself back up, then gives up trying and flops onto his side, coiling around in frustration while his tail curls inwards. It leaves him half-facing the blonde knight, well enough that his head only turns a little to face her properly.

Syval snorts in annoyance and glances back to Neosodos. "< Tell her I'm okay please. This new body needs practice. >" These noises too come out mangled but less than the Maenast and to a native ear they may pass for Draconic.

"< You need practice speaking it. But we can do that, now. >" Neosodos offers. Then he crawls around the side-curled dragon-man and gets within range so that he can mindvoice to both of them as-needed. << He promises that he is OK. Mildly frustrated right now as he is trying to figure out how to sit or recline comfortably. And the change in jaw shape and tongue is making a hash of his ability to speak clearly. He can hear, however, and welcomes questions. I will ... translate. For now. >>

Honoria sighs a bit. "< So long as he is alright, I can wait however long is necessary. Thank you for coming to help >" she responds in Maenast to the helpful little drake.

<< He is my brother, and my responsibility. I knew he would do this eventually. I had not realized he was quite ready to make the attempt. >>

Syval gives Neosodos a brief look but doesn't voice his first thought audibly. "< Are you alright? Did I hurt you? >" he asks first and foremost to the knight.

The drake transmits the question as asked. << He wants to know if you are alright. He wants to know if he hurt you. >>

Honoria smiles ruefully. "< Not intentionally, Syval of Amlar. When you fell, unconscious, I tried to catch you. Foolishly, I was not expecting your fin to cut my arm. >" She then gestures to the bandage on her arm. ""

Syval nods to acknowledge the answer and only then checks the side of his arm. He'd been expecting sharp claws on his hands but not the arm itself to be edged. Another grunt follows. Much to learn.

Dragging himself along the floor, he turns to face more towards the woman and shift back to his hands and knees. This time instead of making a try for sitting he awkwardly puts the sole of one foot on the ground and eases weight onto it, wiggling the joints and trying to make sense of what feels like standing permanently on his toes. It's strange but not so disorienting that the other foot doesn't follow in similar fashion, leaving Syval crouched in a coiled kind of way that, if he were trying, would be well-suited to dashing straight ahead.

It also gives both of his wings room to breath and the twitch of their tips before fanning wide betrays the weredragon's abrupt notice of them in a larger way. In dragon terms at least, his expression is the very picture of baffled wonderment. It is all so much to take in.

<OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "Not your arm. Your head."

<OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "Green dragons have a spiny head/neck/back frill."

<OOC> Syval says, "Oh sorry I misread that. My fin cut her arm not a fin on my arm."

<OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "Right."

<OOC> Syval nods. "Good, I was imagining head frill. That makes sense now."

<OOC> Syval is feeling an acrobatics check in his near future.

<OOC> Syval says, "While also realizing that sitting, in any way, does not come naturally to this form."

"" Neosodos explains in draconic for Syval's benefit. "< So you are indeed a blend of man and dragon. Humanoid in basic shape - still two arms and two legs, and meant I believe to stand on only the two rear legs. You may find it easier to run very quickly if bent forward and running on all fours. But as you can see, you can stand on two feet, and have working hands with five clawed fingers including a clawed opposable thumb. >"

Yes. The little dragon has spent time while Syval was unconscious studying his shape. So there.

"< You are green, and have the spined frill starting at the fore of your upper brow and proceeding back and down from head along neck past shoulders and along your back to the base of your tail. It ends there. As I mentioned earlier, your tail is longer than your legs by a bit. >" Neo considers this a bit. "< You may find it comfortable to curl your tail beneath you to make a seat. I have never done so, but I am not quite structured as you are. I do know that I do not mind resting my head and body on my tail when lying down. >"

OK. Granted, maybe practicing speech should be first. But Neo is trying to cover the bases. "< You have not expelled your breath, yet, which is good. >"

<OOC> Syval says, "May I Acrobatics to stand up to a crouch?"

<OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "Sure." Syval rolls Acrobatics (1d20+3) and gets 9 (6)

<OOC> Syval says, "Oh my me that's one of my bad stats."

"" Syval grimaces while replying to Neos. The act of balancing on his legs as they are takes concentration that distracts the young man from more talking but soon enough he grows bolder. Having already spent a lifetime on two feet helps even if the new feet are weird and his wings and tail are both trying fervently to pull him off balance. The green-scaled dragonoid pushes against the cave floor and balances up on two feet alone.

And he's barely up at all before toppling over sideways with another grunt.

<OOC> Syval says, "Assuming that one fails."

<OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "Yeah."

"< Good plan, that. >" Neosodos answers. And he does not laugh as Syval topples over when attempting to stand. Neither, it should be noted, does Honoria. 5r"< You alright? Ready to try again? >" the little drake inquires.

<OOC> Syval says, "It's okay. You can laugh on the inside. :)"

<OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "Not while using mindvoice I can't. That would be hurtful and cruel." Syval rolls Acrobatics (1d20+3) and gets 21 (18)

<OOC> Syval says, "What's funny is this is *almost* a situation for Competitive to trigger but I'm the only one making Acrobatics checks to stand upright. :P"

<OOC> Syval may revise that trait later on. It's not as good a fit now as it was at draft time, though it still has some justification.

<OOC> Syval says, "Pass/Fail?"

<OOC> Jhiao Ting Li says, "That should be a success."

"< The cave broke my fall, >" Syval mutters as he pushes himself back onto his hands and knees and tries to find his balance once more, quicker, impatiently, but also more determined.

And this time... he's up, albeit still crouched forward with his arms out at his sides for balance. "< This... feels strange but I think I can get used to this. >" It's about that time that the dragonoid tilts his head downwards and truly looks at the rest of himself. "< Wow, I got /big/. >"