| Absent Abyss atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 4.5 |
| Mare :: Equine :: 13.1 :: 6 :: Birdsong HP: 63 | Buff: NOVICE |
|
Sorcha :: Common Green Dragon :: Fire Breath
Laine |
Aisling
when you drem of me, dream when i’ll meet you on that distant shore
Once upon a time, in a land unknown, came a young lass who dreamed of a great adventure. She dreamed of bold knights and fair maidens whose love and great deeds were remembered and told throughout the ages. She dreamed of one day joining their ranks, to be ever remembered in the songs and stories she loved so much. The lass had set out from her emerald homeland with adventure on her mind and a fair tune upon her lips…
“Sé mo laoch mo Ghile Mear
‘Sé mo Chaesar, Ghile Mear,
Suan ná séan ní bhfuaireas féin
Ó chuaigh i gcéin mo Ghile Mear.”
The song that rose through the trees was just as sweet as the day that had dawned only hours before. In the late Birdsong morning, the warmth of Tallsun was already being hinted at with the sun, so strong and bright, filtering down through the canopy. The breeze rustled to tops of the trees, but little of it made it all the way down to the ground where the graceful little mare waltzed through the winding paths between the mountains an into the land where her story was destined to unfold. She sang as she moved, and her steps were almost those of a dance, changing in rhythm to match the beat of the tune she sang. It was an old song of her homeland, of a longing maiden and her king, her ‘gallant darling’ far off in exile. The story was a good one to act as an introduction for any to the girl who sang it, for she was destined ever to be caught in tales of gallantry and loved nothing more thain raising her voice in song.
She moved carelessly through the forest, not knowing where she might be leading herself to. One might have thought that a girl her size should have been more careful on her own, for indeed she was quite short, though sturdily built and sure upon her quick feet. The dappled of sun that descended through the green leaves glowed off her creamy pelt, and played with the fluttering green ribbon that trailed from her thickly braided mane. She wore cuffs too, rich brown leather worked with the heraldry of her homeland that wrapped themselves aroundher front legs. They had been a gift from her mother, as a reminder of home, and she wore them proudly wherever she went.
“Seal dá rabhas im’ mhaighdean shéimh,
‘S anois im’ bhaintreach chaite thréith,
Mo chéile ag treabhadh na dtonn go tréan
De bharr na gcnoc is in imigéin.”
- - -
Notes: Mo Ghile Mear is the song she is singing (and this is also her voice model as well) Translation for funsies! Also, unfinished appreaence ref She's going stright to the Ruh Troupe because duh, but she also likes friends so anyone's welcome but mostly Kvo and Finn(if Dingo wants to thow him in, too)
Tags: @[Kvothe] ~ @[Finn] |
| Outcast |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.3 hh :: 6 || Frostfall |
|
Elodin :: Dik-Dik :: None
Tribs |
K V O T H E
It was a voice, floating on the wind, that drew me deeper into the depths of the Threshold. A song, melodic as a bird's warble and smooth as a flowing stream in the morning air, spoken in a language that resonated within me like a harpist's fingers across the strings. Those words... so achingly familiar. I stop in mid-stride, ignoring Elodin's confusion, my ears pricked sharp with rapt attention.
The voice was undoubtedly feminine, and the language... definitely not Helovian. But i knew it's rhythm oh so well, for i was fluent in that tongue from the moment i could speak. I leap forward, towards the siren's song that called to me, Elodin bounding at my heels as we race through the forest.
Soon she comes into view, and i slow to a stop, just out of view of the pale mare as she sings. Even Elodin pauses to listen, his broad ears flicked towards her. We wait until she is finished, until the notes of that song fade into the mid-morning air. Her accent... is vaguely different than mine, but close enough that i feel confident.
"Álainn. Shealbhú Fiú na héin fós a gcuid foinn i do onóir." The words fall from my tongue, and oh the joy i feel at speaking the proper tongue cannot be put into words. Elodin picks up on it, and lets out a bleat to the mare before leaning against my leg. He's tired, and i curl my tail around him, letting him sink down into the soft hair as his bed.
Then it hits me. What if she is only mimicking the song, rather than speaking the actual language? I want to dismiss that, she spoke it so fluently, her tongue rolling the words as one would a lover. In a language such as this, such as mine, it was hard to mimic it. One could copy the words, aye, but one could not mimic the passion that goes into every syllable.
"May i ask of you your name?" I switch to the Helovian tongue, such a common enough one.
Translation: Beautiful. Even the birds still hold their tunes in your honor.
@[Aisling]
"Speech speech specch."
|
| Absent Abyss atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 4.5 |
| Mare :: Equine :: 13.1 :: 6 :: Birdsong HP: 63 | Buff: NOVICE |
|
Sorcha :: Common Green Dragon :: Fire Breath
Laine |
Aisling
when you dream of me, dream when i’ll meet you on that distant shore
She was lost in her song, taken by the old familiar melody into one of her frequent daydreams. Though the white lass danced alone in the unknown forest, she imagined before her the gallant hero of which she sang. Tall he was and noble too, the kind to coax a maiden’s sigh. And the little mare did. The last notes faded and so did her stride and a contented sigh found her stopping in an entirely new part of the forested mountain path with none too firm of a recollection of how she had come there or what path she had taken.
She was not worried overmuch about her lack of a destination; she had set out to follow her feet and they would not lead her to harm. Just about to select another tune, a string of wonderful words reached her and for the briefest moment they were thought to have echoed only in her mind but her smoke grey eyes caught sight of a handsome face the green of the forest. He spoke in her beloved tongue, which was an unexpected so far from home. Delight spread across her features for the language and the words that were spoken in it, for she was never immune to such gallant praise. In an enchanted forest a sweet young maid sings of a noble prince and he appears before her eyes…A striking figure with a shining sword…
Light steps brought her around to face the silver-tongued stranger, and head lowered in a graceful sweep of greeting. Lifting her eyes again, her smiling mouth had only begun to form a proper hello when she was interrupted by the sweetest little squeak. Her words turned into a soft ring of laughter, so charmed was she by the sight, as she finally spied the tiny creature as it nestled into the tail of its larger companion.
“A thabhairt liom tú mo bhuíochas. Ach chanadh agam ach amháin i moladh de na hamhráin timpeall orm. Her voice came out in an amiable tone, the rhythm of the language making it almost a song in itself. Because he switched into the more common speech, she followed suit, but it still held soft lilt. “I am called Aisling, and it is a pleasure to meet you this morning. Might I know you own name, and you darling friend’s as well?”
In her excitement of finding a new acquaintance, she pranced forward a few steps, a bold gesture perhaps, but not an aggressive one, only curiosity leading her forward. ”I did not look to find a speaker of the old tongue in this part of the world. Are you also from the Emerald Isle?”
- - -
Actions in the living world.
Daydreams and foolish fantasies.
“Words spoken aloud.”
Translations: “I give you my thanks, but I only sing in praise of the songs around me.” |
[now come the days of the dreamer and they are filled with wonder and light ]
:: permission given for use of magic and force :: please tag Aisling in all posts ::
| Outcast |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.3 hh :: 6 || Frostfall |
|
Elodin :: Dik-Dik :: None
Tribs |
01-13-2015, 11:28 PM
(This post was last modified: 01-13-2015, 11:30 PM by Kvothe.)
K V O T H E
A grin, full and wide, pulls at my lips as she responds in the Old Tongue as well. Here was a sister! A sister born, descendants of a race as wild and untameable as the land they lived upon! "Hail sister Aisling! I am Kvothe, son of Illydae by Romano." I call, bowing my head to my fellow, introducing myself. She inquires after Elodin, and i step to the side, exposing the youth to the mare.
"This is Elodin, my dear companion." He regards Aisling, and i can feel the wheels turning in his mind before he settles upon a decision and turns away, ignoring her all together. "Forgive him. His version of approval means completely ignoring you." I gaze at him with a fond smile, before once more my attention is drawn to the pale mare.
The Emerald Isle... "Nay, but the father of my father was sired upon the fertile soil there, as was my mother herself. We are gypsies, wanderers, troupers. Sadly, ye shall not find another speaker of our tongue here, unless there is one i've yet to meet." I dip my head to her, bells tinkling merrily.
"So tell me Fair Aisling, what brings one of the Fair Folk here?" For faerie folk she must be, as slender and pale as she is, and with a voice to draw the unwary. Or maybe i was just enjoying the company of one such as myself, one who knew one of the fairest of languages, if a bit guttural at times.
@[Aisling]
"Speech speech specch."
|
| Absent Abyss atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 4.5 |
| Mare :: Equine :: 13.1 :: 6 :: Birdsong HP: 63 | Buff: NOVICE |
|
Sorcha :: Common Green Dragon :: Fire Breath
Laine |
Aisling
when you dream of me, dream when i’ll meet you on that distant shore It had been little over a year since the little mare had crossed the channel from her home to the wide shore. In that time she’d met a good many herds and other wanderers along her path; some were wearisome and others had been pleasant for a while, but not so greatly as to hold her fleeting fancy for long. Certainly, none had captured her delight so quickly and completely as this fateful encounter in the green wood. For surely it is fate that two souls of the fair isle might meet halfway across the world on the most glorious of springtime mornings.
She laughed again as the stallion apologized for his tiny charge, such a small thing with the attitude of an emperor. “’Tis honored I am to meet you, Elodin the Magnificent.” She said, ringing voice all lighthearted mirth and she dipped her head in a little bow to the proud creature who was, in the safety of his guardian, the most precious thing on the earth. She raised her eyes back to the roan and considered him for a moment in her usual dreamy fashion as he spoke.
“And a joy to meet you, Kvothe, even more happy a chance in this wide wood if there are none other of our countryman to be found. A rover you may be, but still one of the old blood and not too long away if you can speak our words so wonderfully.” A Gypsy! What a romantic notion. Blood of the Old Land but with a wandering heart and wandering feet. Dark and mysterious with the charm of sweet bells chiming upon his brow. A silver-tongued traveler, what adventures he must have!
The girl’s heart near melted when he named her one of the Fair Folk. Her heart wasn’t vain, but it was still quick to flutter at such lovely words. “No faerie am I, though me Ma always said she’d stolen one of their voices for me.” She had always loved her mother’s story and the grin on her face turned a tad wistful as she thought of home. She’d see her family again, she was sure of that one day, but adventure had called her and she must find that first. “T’was my feet that set the path and I’ve no particular errand here. Truly, I’m afraid I got a little caught up in the song and the beauty of the morn to keep an account of which way I was going and I’m not sure where here is. Will this be a land you’re familiar with then, Kvothe?”
- - -
Actions in the living world.
Daydreams and foolish fantasies.
“Words spoken aloud.”
|
[now come the days of the dreamer and they are filled with wonder and light ]
:: permission given for use of magic and force :: please tag Aisling in all posts ::
| Outcast |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.3 hh :: 6 || Frostfall |
|
Elodin :: Dik-Dik :: None
Tribs |
Image Credit
Kvothe & Elodin
I think of myself... as a troubadour, a village storyteller, the guy in the shadows of the campfire.
- Louis L'Amour
Elodin blinks at her as she addresses him, and although he doesn't understand the words I can both see and feel his growing pride, puffing out his chest as he prances away to explore, little tail sticking up in the air. "You know not the horror you have just fueled." I laughed softly, looking after Elodin before turning towards Aisling.
She does not scorn my wandering blood; far from it, she seems to honour it. I bow my head deeply to her, bells singing to the morning air. "My mother taught me many languages, but aye, mostly she taught us the tongue of our ancestors." Not for the first time the thought that my mother possessed foresight flashed through my mind. Many things she had taught Bast and I had proven invaluable in our lives, kept us alive and thriving.
However it is when the lass mentions her own mother that i break out into a grin. "Surely there is a faeling mourning the loss of such a beautiful voice." Her question causes me to pause, then shake my head in regret. "Nay lass. I've not been here long 'ere you arrived. Only a week or two." But in that time i had seen much, met quite a few... Made me curious as to whether or not my life would continue to be so... interesting.
My bi-colored gaze flickers over Aisling, curiosity rising within me until i felt the need to speak freely. "If you're looking for a home, lass... i cannot offer you such. But mayhap i can offer family." I straightened, neck arched. Okay, maybe i was posing(Elodin caught it, and i could feel his amusement at my posturing), but what i was doing i felt the need for a bit of formality, and my dear mother always told me: 'Posture is everything. If you wish to be treated a prince, stand like one. If you wish to be a beggar, cower as such.'
Never had truer words been spoken. I've posed as a king, as a wizard, a god and a leper. Anything was believable if one merely acted as such, and acting i was now. I drew myself up to full height, bells tingling in the wind that tousled my mane, and i had to keep a smile from my solemn face. Seems even the wind wished to add to my posture.
"I wish to formally extend an offer to you, Aisling, to join my family, the Ruh Troupe. We are wanderers, those who's souls will not let us remain in one place. We are performers, singers and dancers, storytellers and poets. And we are family." Despite my regal posture, i do not mask the softness around my features, and my head bows slightly to her.
"Will you honor us by joining our family?"
OOC: Hope you don't mind the table change! XD
@[Aisling]
|
| Absent Abyss atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 4.5 |
| Mare :: Equine :: 13.1 :: 6 :: Birdsong HP: 63 | Buff: NOVICE |
|
Sorcha :: Common Green Dragon :: Fire Breath
Laine |
Aisling
when you dream of me, dream when i’ll meet you on that distant shore He spoke so wonderfully, Aisling was hardly conscious of how easily he had drawn himself a little place in her storybook and as he stood, so straight and proud and Exile King, a Gallant Darling, that place was cemented. And how could he know, only just having met her, that he had already reached into that story and drawn out a tale she loved so well, that he was offering her a chance to step in and become part of the adventure she had been seeking.
…“If you're looking for a home, lass... i cannot offer you such. But mayhap i can offer family."…
Home? No, she wasn’t looking for a home, she’d had a wonderful home and she had swept herself off and away from it. Family? She’d had one of those too, and they had cautioned her to stay but had understood the wild fancy in her heart, had said farewell with loving smiles. Her face remained rather vacant as he spoke, barely moving, and cast in a dreamy, far-away look as she imagined the life that this stallion was offering her.
Deep in the woods the young maiden is put under the spell of the Gypsy Prince, and enchanter marked by his dual colored eyes and sliver tongue. He sweeps her away forever to his roving gypsy court and there they live for all the days of this world, dancing and singing under moon and sun. There she blossoms into the great singer of legend, and enchantress in her own right with a voice of the faeries and eyes like smoke.
Only Kvothe’s silence snaps her back to her own time and place and she answers in a heartbeat, giddy with the magic of the dreams she’s living. “I am honored by your offer, ser. I left my darling home and I was not looking for another, but for adventure. Seems I was set to be a rover too, and I would be honored to be a part of your Troupe.” Her smile was wide, bright as any sunlight.
“Tell me, who else is part of this family of yours? I am excited to meet them, as well as see more of this land. These woods are lovely indeed, is everyplace you’ve seen here as wonderful?” She glanced around at the beauty of the morning and, caught up in her own wonder, let out a laugh and a little dance of hooves.
- - -
Actions in the living world.
Daydreams and foolish fantasies.
“Words spoken aloud.”
Notes: Not at all! It's so cute! Tiny tiny Elodin and his little bell, I Love it!
|
[now come the days of the dreamer and they are filled with wonder and light ]
:: permission given for use of magic and force :: please tag Aisling in all posts ::
| Outcast |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.3 hh :: 6 || Frostfall |
|
Elodin :: Dik-Dik :: None
Tribs |
Image Credit
Kvothe & Elodin
I think of myself... as a troubadour, a village storyteller, the guy in the shadows of the campfire.
- Louis L'Amour
There is a faint silence as the girl is lost within her mind, but I wait patiently for her to return. And soon, she does, and with eagerness she accepts my offer, and a grin breaks out across my face in delight. This faerie-sung mare would make such a grand addition to the troupe, I was sure Finn would prance with delight...
That image, of the plucky little butterball dancing... A snort of laughter escapes me, my growing fondness for the man warming my chest. "I am pleased to hear such! You, fair maiden of olde, have lightened my step with delight!" I winked, then grinned impishly, sheepishly.
"As of the moment, only myself and a man named Finn are what make up the Ruh Troupe... but we hope to gather more members, more singers and bards and magicians and traders." It is my turn to take on the dreamy tone. I could just picture it now; the festivities, the cheer, the laughter, the sound of children at play or bombarding a storyteller with questions.
It is my dream, my hope and desire to see such a thing come to pass. A growing dream that I am slowly nurturing, like a delicate flower in inhospitable soil, tended by gentle hands with skill.
"We are small right now... but soon I hope that we shall be able to bring stories and cheer to Helovia... especially in such a dark time." My thoughts once more went to the rumors, the murders. And not for the first time I wondered at Finn's health; when we had departed once more I warned him to do as I did and stay off the paths, to tread with all the silence of a woodsman and leave as little trace of passing as possible. I could only hope that he heeded my advice, and was safe at the rendezvous point.
"I am fixing to return to Finn, so that we may begin to plan what we shall do, if you would care to join me and allow me to introduce him to you? I am sure he will find you most charming." I grin at Aisling, at my gypsy sister.
@[Aisling]
|
| Absent Abyss atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 4.5 |
| Mare :: Equine :: 13.1 :: 6 :: Birdsong HP: 63 | Buff: NOVICE |
|
Sorcha :: Common Green Dragon :: Fire Breath
Laine |
Aisling
when you dream of me, dream when i’ll meet you on that distant shore The wink from her new comrade sent the little singer into a fit of giggles. So delighted was she with the events of the morning that there was no restraint in the show of excitement. It ripples over her, feet dancing in their places, ribbons fluttering at the end of the long braid that swung merrily across her shoulder, a smile bright as any sunshine, and laughter like the tinkling of a dozen merry little bells. When Kvothe spoke of the other in their new little band, her mind went spinning again. Finn McCool, Fionn mac Cumhaill, hero of the Fianna and a thousand splendid tales would be the faerie girl’s friend along with the Gallant Prince and the three danced and sung their way across the vast expanses of the world, a hundred thousand adventures falling at their feet.
Aisling was so caught up in the magic of the morning that Kvothe’s mention of the dark times in the region made no impression on her mind. He had painted such a lovel picture, a roving band or storytellers and singers, crafters and magicians! What on earth could possibly go wrong in a land so green and full of promise? Anywhere that one such as Kvothe could be conjured with a song was a magical place, a wonderful place, and she would get to see all of it! “You are too generous with your own charm Kvothe, but I will gladly go with you and meet this Finn. I’m sure he will be just as delightful as you yourself.” She danced forward, circling around the grey stallion and coming to stand at his shoulder, for indeed that was just about as high as she could reach. And looked up at him with a merry wink of her own. “Luaidhe ar an mbealach seo, mo chara!”
- - -
Actions in the living world.
Daydreams and foolish fantasies.
“Words spoken aloud.”
Translations: ”Luaidhe ar an mbealach seo, mo chara!” - “Lead the way, my friend!”
|
[now come the days of the dreamer and they are filled with wonder and light ]
:: permission given for use of magic and force :: please tag Aisling in all posts ::
|
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