Late Night for a Late Bite

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Log Info

  • Title: Late Night for a Late Bite
  • Emitter: Ravenstongue
  • Place: A10 - Temple District
  • Summary: Dirk, Eztli, Ravenstongue (and Pothy), and Verna all have a get-together in the Temple District, meeting together by fortunate happenstance. Ravenstongue's decided to cross off Tarien from her list of gods, Pothy makes friends with Dirk's owl, Etzli is trying to sleep on top of the Temple of Tarien, and Verna's passing through. Eventually, all find their way home.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=<* A10: Temple District *>=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

The air of solemn, heavy divinity in the area is often broken by laughter. The dual presence of the deities Althea and Daeus, man and wife, stand towards the center, with their children and their children's temples positioned around them. The presence of the divine is felt not only by their temples, but also by the actions of their worshipers. The great plaza is as a social center, paved in brilliant, white flagstones and covered in benches and sitting areas. Priests, acolytes, and servicefolk of all stripes roam the plaza, going from one task to the other.

At the front of the temples of Daeus and Althea, at the Plaza's centermost point, rests a great fountain, the cheerful waters reflecting the Sun during the day, and the Moon and Stars at night. The fountain is strategically centered, and is oft a place for wisdom and lesson-giving. It is not uncommon for a priest of some stripe or the other to stand there, surrounded by the curious and faithful, delivering messages of hope or contemplation. At other times, it and the plaza become a landscape of celebration of the holy holidays.

Few vendors are seen in the plaza--the nearby temples provide most food or services. Towards the west, the great Bridge stretches across the river, and towards the east, the Redridge mountains. The plaza rests in the midst of it all, the temples massive and grand on the Alexandrian scale. 

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- Dramatis Personae =--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
Dirk              4'11"    295 Lb     Mountain Dwarf    Male      A rugged old dwarf, dressed for the outdoors.                              
Eztli             4'6"     140 Lb     Sith-Makar        Female    A two-toned, short sith-makar.                                             
Ravenstongue      5'0"     99 Lb      Half-Elf          Female    Short half-elf girl with violet eyes and black hair.                       
Verna             4'5"     98 Lb      Half-Elf          Female    Petite humanoid in bulky gray robes and cloak.                            
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
Temple District, City of Alexandria, almost midnight.

Eluna is full in the sky on this late night, as the moon's splendor has not been hidden nor marred by dark clouds, and the stars have been permitted to sparkle in the dark, winking as they observe the people down below.

The temples often work round the clock, providing aid and relief to worshippers, and so it's presumably for this reason that a violet-eyed half-sil leaves the Temple of Tarien. She wears a comfortable black dress cut from black linen, and a cloak of deep violet silk adorns her shoulders. There's also a white raven who looks particularly proud of himself on her shoulder, preening his pale plumage while the half-elf woman looks a tad peeved.

"Well, Pothy," Cor'lana remarks, raising a dark brow as she looks up at her corvid companion, "I don't think I'm cut out to be a follower of the Trickster. They certainly loved you, though."

Pothy finishes preening, and his feathers puff out on his chest as he bellows, "Snacks!"

The corvid speaks the truth. Verna descends the mountain road despite the hour due to a lack of conveniently consumable foodstuffs. Not yet confident enough to craft her own, nor impolite enough to wake a sleeping chef in her own home, her options are a tavern or, less likely, a dedicated hawker working into the wee hours. The robes of her faith are absent, but the weather fair enough that the light, simple shift is more than enough for the evening.

It is the rallying cry that first garners her attention, though she promptly notes Cor'lana immediately after. Once near enough for casual conversing, she offers, "Good eve to you both."

Dirk too has come to pay a visit to the Temple District. But he's taking his leave of Gilead's temple, idly filling the bowl of his pipe as he goes. And he also has a feathered friend perched upon his shoulder. A petite little white-faced owl, her bright golden eyes wide and round. "Ye were verra well behaved, Lulu," he says fondly, reaching up to brush a fingertip over the top of the owl's head. "Fer that, ye get an extra treat when we get back home!" Alas, Lulu isn't quite as talented as Pothy when it comes to vocalization. She has to settle for a happy little 'hoo-hoo!' as she leans into the head-scritchings.

The burly old snowbeard glances up as he spies Cor'lana, and a warm smile creases his leathery features. He turns his steps in her direction, offering a wave. "Oy, Missus Cor'lana!" he says cheerfully. Though not with his usual boisterous booming, given the late hour. Unlike many of his kin, he knows how to use his indoor voice. "Lovely night, innit?" Pothy is given a smile and a nod. "Pothy. Have ye met Lulu?"

For her part, Lulu the owl is peering closely at Pothy. This is no owl like she knows! Her feathers fluff up, poofing out dramatically as she fans her wings behind herself, stooping forward and riveting her eyes on the corvid. She bobs her head from side to side as she hops from foot to foot on Dirk's shoulder, eyes wide and staring. The hunter rolls his eyes at his owl's display. "Aww, c'mon now, Lulu, it's just Pothy, he's friendly!"

His attention gets drawn to Verna, and he reaches up to tip his tricorne. "Missus Verna. Lovely tae see ye in good health."

It was a wonderful night to enjoy, or at least it felt like it after a rather pleasant day and evening. Such a nice night that Eztli had decided some place pleasant to rest. This time, it had decided to be up on top of one of the temples of the district. Polished flat stone was an excellent spot to rest, and read. Though some of the commotion made the small makari stir from her rest, knocking the book she had been reading off and into a nearby bush. Perhaps it was a joke from the god who the temple she was sleeping on.

The small makari peers over the edge, and blinks. "Oh, sorry! I hope I wasn't interrupting. And hello Dirk, pleasant night to you. Please don't worry about the book that fell, I'll head down and get it in a moment, so no worries!"

Cor'lana blinks as hears the book falling into the bush--and then she looks up at the temple she'd just left at the little makari. "You're brave to try and sleep on top of a temple--some might consider that a sacrilege against the faithful. Pothy, go fetch her book."

Pothy's head whips around to look at his mistress, and then he sighs, throwing his head back like a teenager. He dives into the bush and retrieves the book quite quickly, managing to bring it back up to the little makari within the span of a minute. In the meantime, Cor'lana peers at Dirk and his owl friend. "Good evening. I wish I could say it's a good evening, but I've been busy trying to find guidance on gods and goddesses... and I've safely ruled a couple off my list for more dedicated worship. Your owl, though! She's lovely."

She actually holds her arm out, indicating to Lulu she's available to use as a roost if she's so inclined. After all, Pothy hasn't returned. "Hi Lulu--I promise Pothy and I are friendly. Not a threat whatsoever. You remind me of one of Grandfather's birds, actually..."

She looks over to Verna... and squints. "Verna? Verna? When did you get back? Is everything okay--No, tell me later, in private. Such a thing shouldn't be discussed in the open."

Dirk startles a little bit as it starts raining books. But when he sees that it's only the one, he tips his head back, looking up to the roof of the temple. "Oy, Eztli!" he calls. "Be careful up there, ye could slip an' break yer neck!" He turns his attention back to Cor'lana, chuckling softly. "Go on, Luna, go say hello," he says to the owl. Luna headtilts to one side, then the other. With a soft hoo-hoo, she leaps off Dirk's shoulder and wings her way over to the offered arm. She alights with a fluttering of wings, peering up at Cor'lana as she headtilts once again. Blink blink.

Dirk rumbles a deep chuckle as he fishes a match out of his pocket. "Have ye tried Gilead?" he asks. "My clan's always followed the Green Word. Gilead's a good one, I'll warrant. Or there's the Green Lady Dana. Both fine options, I'll warrant. But I'm probably a wee bit biased." He strikes his match off his thumb and takes a moment to get his pipe fired up. He puffs steadily as he snaps out the flame, looking back over towards Verna through a billow of sweet cherry pipe smoke. "Is everything well?" he asks, looking curiously between her and Cor'lana. There's something going on here that the old snowbeard isn't quite following.

Verna's attention is drawn by the following book then upward at the recent possessor. "As she stated, such a perch for resting, or reading, is not recommended. It does not bode well for either reader or tome." She addresses Cor'lana next with a nod. "It is I, and the whole of the matter is a lengthy discussion best held elsewhere at another time. Suffice to say, as Dirk noted," she nods to him, "I am in far better health than a day past."

"Please just leave it there-" Eztli asks, but it's too late. Pothy has gathered the tome from the bush, a lurid red book with a rugged looking warrior on the front titled 'A Knight To Remember' that was just heavy enough for it to be seen as the raven carried it up. The small makari flattens on the edge of the temple, letting her arms hang off of it. "Oh, well, thank you, Pothy, was it? Thanks." She sighs as she takes the book. "Don't worry about me, It's just a building. I'll get down just fine, don't worry, and I picked this one because I figured Tarien wouldn't mind, anyways."

Cor'lana seems far too confident in holding the owl, happily letting Lulu sit on her arm. She doesn't seem to mind her talons even though most handling owls would be wearing thick gloves and layers of clothing with them. The sorceress appears to be completely unbothered even though those talons are resting on bare skin. "You are lovely, aren't you? You are, you are. Your feathers are so lovely, and your eyes are like jewels, fair creature." <Sylvan>

She looks back to Dirk and nods, smiling from having said sweet words to Lulu. "I've not tried yet with Gilead," she admits, "nor have I looked into the Green Lady. I probably ought to. I just worry that I've grown almost incompatible with devoted faith in any one deity."

The sorceress looks back up to Eztli, smirking a little as Pothy delivers the book. "Yes, that's Pothy. His full name's Apotheosis, but that's a mouthful--so I just call him Pothy. You may call me Cor'lana Lúpecyll--or Ravenstongue. Whichever you prefer."

Meanwhile, Pothy returns to Cor'lana's shoulder... and stares hesitantly at the owl that's occupying Cor'lana's arm. Who goes first? ...Hooooo goes first, even?

Dirk blinks, going wide-eyed as his avian companion as he spies that particular title. But then, he tosses back his head, rumbling with laughter. "Hah! Fine choice o' literature!" he says, still chortling with amusement. "Ye ever read 'Peaks o' Passion'? That's a fine one, that is. The hero's a brave dwarf warrior! Ye shoulfd give 'er a look!" He grins around the bit of his pipe, puffing up his burly chest with dwarven pride. And how could he not, when such a fine example of dwarven literature exists?

Meanwhile, Lulu's squaring off with Pothy once again. She headtilts, first to one side, then to the other. But she doesn't poof herself up like she did last time. She hop-hop-hops along Cor'lana's arm, click-clacking her beak. Dirk has taught her well, for she grips Cor'lana's bare arm with just enough strength to keep her balance. Then, she leaaaaans in close and boops Poth's beak with hers! "Hoo-hoo!" Dirk glances back in time to catch the display of avian affection. "Awww! See, I told he he was nice!" he says, beaming proudly. He grins at Cor'lana with a chuckle. "Looks like they're fast friends, eh!"

At the last, he nods over to Verna. "Well, gods know we've all had a hard go of it, these last weeks," he says. "But I'm glad tae see yer well. These wights wanderin' about are no joke!"

Verna nods to Dirk. "Indeed. They do seem rather amicable. As well, matters have been quite ... active as of late. As such I became unexpectedly famished. Thus I shall bid you all a good eve as I am on a quest for," she pauses momentarily head panning to face the corvid directly, "snacks."

Eztli sits up and stows away the book in her robes as she stands up on the ledge, walking over to the edge of it till she could hand down and climb the rest of the way on a stone pillar till she was on the ground. The small makari dusts off her robes, and holds one hand over her snout. "No, I have not. I'm sure it would be interesting, but it would be hard pressed to be better than 'Red Hot Red Ridge Romance.'" She sighs. "Anyways, that's not important. It really, really isn't important. So uh, yeah! sorry for interrupting your talk and everything here. I don't think I've met the other two here before, so, nice to meet you!"

Cor'lana nods and waves to Verna. "We'll speak again later," she says. "I hope you find food shortly." The word choice was very careful, lest Pothy be activated.

Speaking of the birdbrain, he seems almost bewildered as his beak is booped by the owl. He looks from side to side, like he's trying to process what just happened. Then, finally, he looks at Lulu and says... "Friend!"

"Look at you! Making bird friends! There's hope for you yet, Pothy," Cor'lana says with a grin.

She looks up at Eztli and looks curious. "Well, it is nice to meet you, too," she says. "I've never read any of the Crimson Pen, but my Grandfather is a fan. He likes to laugh at trashy mortal literature."

Wait. Mortal literature?

Dirk laughs deeply as Pothy makes his declaration. He lifts his free hand, curling it into a fist and holding it to his mouth. He blows a couple quick little hoots through his fingers. Lulu hoo-hoos in return, lifting off from Cor'lana's arm and winging her way back over to Dirk, settling on his shoulder. "Well, that's just lovely, innit?" he says, lovingly stroking a fingertip over the owl's breast-feathers. The avian preens, puffing up just like her master does. People really do resemble their pets, it would seem.

Dirk looks back to Cor'lana, though, blinking owlishly at her particular choice of phrasing. "Eh? Mortal literature? Ye dinnae mean 'moral' literature, did ye? 'cause I'm afraid there's nae much 'moral' 'bout those Crimson Pen bodice-rippers." He chortles amusedly. "But hells, they're summat tae read, nay? When yer bored enough, they'll do. Some of 'em are even halfway decent!"

"Tarien's making a fool of me for trying to relax and read today, I suppose that's fair." The small makari sighs. "Oh well, at least not that many people saw. Not like I care that much, anyways."

"They're fun, but yeah, they're pretty much trash. Most of the writers tend to go the route of quantity over quality, which is a shame, since I liked the worldbuilding in some of them."

"Though, if I knew my grandpa was reading them, maybe I'd avoid it. Though I'm with Dirk here, what do you mean about Mortal literature? Is your grandpa a dragon or something?" She asks curiously, one ridge of a brow raised just a bit. "Or are you an elemental or something pretending to be an elf?"

Cor'lana can't help but giggle when Eztli calls her an elemental pretending to be an elf, lights twinkling in her violet eyes. "No," she says, seemingly to both Dirk and Eztli's questions. "I meant mortal literature, and not, I'm not an elemental. I am descended from a wonderful man called the Feathered One, who happens to be a former member of the fey nobility. I'm just a normal person."

Pothy just stares at Cor'lana.

"...Okay, I'm an adventurer, so that's not true. But I am mortal. Just feytouched," Cor'lana fesses up. "Inherited my magic from my mother, though, not from Grandfather."

Dirk puffs quietly at his pipe as he listens, his shaggy white brows arching in astonishment at the revelation of Cor'lana's otherworldly parentage. "Oh... well, isn't that interestin'? Must make fer some awkward times at holiday get-togethers, dunnit? Do the fey even have Yuletide?" He shakes his head. "Och, a year wi'out Yuletide would be miserable. I always love dressin' as Grandfather Winter fer the wee ones an' bringin' 'em sweets an' presents in the town square." He certainly looks the part of the fabled jolly old elf--even if he isn't actually an elf. "Well," he says, looking up at the sky. "It's probably too late fer me tae make it home. Suppose I should be findin' meself an inn room fer the night. It was lovely seein' ye all, though!" He tips his tricorne in farewell. "Green Lady guard ye!" he says, before he turns to depart. Lulu turns her head completely around, ruffling her feathers and offering a 'hoo-hoo' of her own towards Pothy. Because he's her very first feathered friend, and she's been taught to be polite!

"Oh, okay." The small makari sighs, looking just a touch disappointed. "That's still really cool though, yeah! It must be interesting having a fey lord or ex lord as your grandpa."

"It would be interesting to hear about all the differences in culture, even if it would be hard for a mortal to get used to it all. Nice to see you Dirk, hope you have a good night! You should probably be okay wandering back home, but still, mind yourself at night."

"Adventuring isn't exactly normal, yeah. But if you're a magic user like I think you mentioned you were, that's a good use for those sorts of skills, right?"

Cor'lana waves to Dirk with a grin. "Have a good night!" she calls after him.

Then she turns to Eztli. Cor'lana is still smiling, even as she says, "Well, sorry to disappoint. He's not my grandpa, really--put about fifty 'greats' in front of grandfather and that'd be accurate--but he asked me to call him Grandfather, so I do. It's just easier."

She gives Pothy a scritch on his fluffy little head in a bit of an absent-minded way. "Yeah," she replies. "I specialize in charming and enchantment magic, but I can manage other things. I'm starting to be capable of some pretty impressive things. I could enchant elementals to be my friends, for instance," she adds with a grin.

Pothy looks around listlessly despite the scritches. He then declares, finally, "Snacks!"

Cor'lana sighs as she looks at Pothy. "It is late. I better get home or my fiance will be sick with worry," she adds. "I hope that you find a better place to sleep--you could probably ask the Temple of Tarien if you can sleep inside, and they'd find you a bed, you know?"

"Oh, so they're not really your grandfather. But they're a relative I guess, and things are a lot more complicated with the fey from what I remember."

"I just thought you might have been from dragonier or something, some of those dragons had absolutely massive libraries, but, that wouldn't make sense. Turns out they were very mortal after all."

The small makari sighs, and she shakes off whatever funk was starting with a smile. "Oh, that's cool! You could enchant things, that's a lot more useful in every day life, even outside of being an adventurer. Me? I just burn things kind of well. Not the most useful of skills for civil society."

"Sorry, I don't have any snacks on my for your bird. But it is pretty late, and I shouldn't let myself get exhausted. Don't worry, I've got an inn room I can go back to, so I'll be fine. And you certainly should not leave your Fiance waiting, after all."

Cor'lana smiles. "Ah, well," she says, "everyone finds their niche eventually. Sure, you burn things well, but there's uses for that. You could work pyrotechnics at the Theatre District, you know? Phantasm of the Choir has some incredible usage of fire magic, you know."

"Snaaaaaacks," Pothy reminds Cor'lana.

The half-elf woman sighs. "Okay, okay, Pothy. It was really nice to meet you, Eztli. I hope we can talk again! Have a good night!"

And off the feytouched woman goes into the night, whining raven asking for snacks all the way.

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