The Familiar Questions

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Revision as of 07:21, 21 March 2023 by Riptide (talk | contribs) (Created page with "<div style="padding:5px; background-color:#e7eaea;"> ==Log Info== *Title: The Familiar Questions *Emitter: Ravenstongue *Characters: Jacob, Ravenstongue *Place: Theatre District *Summary: Jacob and Ravenstongue meet for the first time in the Theatre District. What follows is a series of questions about familiars and Ravenstongue's bloodline over a shared snack between Pothy and Jacob. The encounter ends with Ravenstongue taking off into the air.</div> ''Th...")
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Log Info

  • Title: The Familiar Questions
  • Emitter: Ravenstongue
  • Place: Theatre District
  • Summary: Jacob and Ravenstongue meet for the first time in the Theatre District. What follows is a series of questions about familiars and Ravenstongue's bloodline over a shared snack between Pothy and Jacob. The encounter ends with Ravenstongue taking off into the air.

Theatre District, morning.

The cool wind and morning light on a mild spring for Alexandria makes the Theatre District almost glow in the sunlight, the ribbons and decorations on the streets enhanced by Daeus's early-hour light in the sky. While it's a little early for street musicians to be playing, there's already some artisans setting up their easels for on-the-spot portraits, and the smell of freshly baked bread wafts in the air from the few small bakeries that have set up shop here in the District, seizing on the opportunity that the playhouses here provide.

A half-elf woman walks out of a bakery with a small cloth bag filled to the brim with rolls, dressed for the spring in a light and airy lavender-colored dress. Her violet eyes sparkle a little in the light as she looks to the white-feathered raven on her shoulder, her own waves of dark hair such a stark contrast to his. "Here you go, Pothy," she says sweetly, holding up a roll from the bag to him.

"Snacks!" the identified Pothy crows, snatching the roll from her fingers. It's small enough that it just slides down his gullet in one smooth motion.

Ah, the theater.

Jacob - despite his often-times warrior demeanor and serious personality delighted in the arts. Musicians, artisans, playwrights, and thespians always entertained in just the right way with words of old ballads or songs that inspire the feet to move (though if you ask Jacob, he has two left feet).

But that doesn't stop a Vanguard of Serriel from enjoying a morning walk through his favorite distract as Jacob walks, cloaked in robes and covered by bits of armor here and there, his hair allowed to flow freely to be picked and prodded by the wind.

Yet, Heterochromatic eyes pick up the presence of Ravenstongue as she feeds Pothy, the scent of fresh-baked goods rush to his senses and fill his nose, bringing a tender curve of his lips to a point where it almost reaches his eyes as a friendly air exudes around him.

"Good morning to you, my friend." He offers a light wave as he approached. "Taking in the quiet sights this morning?"

The dark-haired woman peers up at Jacob as he approaches, and a friendly smile settles on her face. "Good morning," she says. "I wish I could say I'm taking in the sights, but Pothy here is a gourmand who insists on me taking him to whatever bakery strikes his fancy. He's rather fond of this one lately." She motions to the bakery's sign above her head with a little flip of her hand.

"Snacks," Pothy echoes, and he nudges into the hand that she holds up. That earns him a little sigh from his mistress.

"Yes, hold on." The woman takes a bun out from the bag and holds it out to Pothy, letting him dine on it as he wishes. "He's my familiar, so he doesn't really _need_ to eat... and yet he does anyway."

She peers at him for a moment before she asks, "A fellow adventurer, I presume? I'm sorry, where are my manners. I am called Cor'lana Lupecyll-Atlon, or sometimes Ravenstongue--that was my old alias."

"Good morning."

Jacob had a deep voice that fumbled in his throat, but his eyes rest upon Pothy as Ravenstongue reveals her pet/familiar is quite the snack-a-holic. "Can't say I blame him. This bakery is home to many delicacies that can make the mouth water. Though, it's funny that he demands baked goods. No candy or sweets?"

He chuckles. "I was going to ask about that...but I suppose we can eat even when we're not hungry. Some things just taste good, you know?"

"Aye, and member of the Guild. Perhaps we've seen one another in passing?" He extends a hand to her. "A pleasure, Cor'lana. I'm Jacob Ben-Hassid. Do you prefer one alias over the other?" He asks out of respect and curiosity both.

"Hardly anyone calls me Ravenstongue these days," Cor'lana says with a little bit of a bashful smile as she takes Jacob's hand and shakes it with her left hand, which has a rather visible mark: a feather wreath surrounding a field of stars. "It was a necessity for me to use when I first came to Alexandria, but now--most people call me Cor'lana. Or Lana. Whichever is their preference."

Pothy looks at Jacob for a moment. Then he turns to Cor'lana. He whistles at her, and Cor'lana looks amused before she turns back to Jacob. "Pothy wants to know if you'd like one of his snacks," she says. "Truthfully, he'll eat anything. He's a familiar, so he doesn't have to--but he likes to. He's an odd bird like that, but I adore him nonetheless."

"Then I'll call you Lana, if it pleases you, since it sounds more familiar." Jacob had no wish to call her by a name that has outlived its purpose. Yet, as he shakes her hand gently, he notices the wreath and stars that rest as symbols on her flesh: a sign of loyalty to her deity?

The whistle from Pothy to Cor'lana gets a tilt of the head in response. Jacob could not speak with beasts and birds and he certainly knew not how to communicate with certain familiars. "What does that mean?"

Ravenstongue is happy to inform him that Pothy is offering a snack. "Oh, certainly, I'd love to." He smiles joyfully then, offering his hands to accept one such snack. "He seems a loyal friend, the kind that are so very rare these days. But, would you tell me more about you while we seem to be eating together?"

"That's how he talks in his true voice to me," Cor'lana replies as she fishes out a bun to give to Jacob. "It sounds to you like a whistle, right? To me, he sounds like a little boy, even if he's immortal. I've been told that people who use spells to comprehend all languages can hear him, or have the ability to do something similar can, but everyone else just hears him whistling."

Pothy's tail wags up and down happily as Jacob calls him a loyal friend. Cor'lana nods lightly, handing another bun up to Pothy for him to eat. "I don't mind at all," she says. "I've been here for almost two years now, so I suppose it's time for me to start giving advice to the newcomers, right?" There's a twinkle in her violet eyes as she says that.

"Interesting....a little boy?" Jacob asks, regarding Pothy with a raised brow. He always thought the relationship between familiar and spellcaster to be a unique one, considering how often they must rely on one another for survival. "Fascinating. I'll have to look into such a spell. Though I have a deep fascination for magic, I've yet to reach the spell casting ability that I'd like to reach. Even those who draw power from the blessings of the Gods can reach incredible heights."

"Two years? Not too long. By comparison, I've only been here maybe a month or so, but the Guild has put me to good work and Serriel guides me to where I must be." He chuckles, meeting her eyes with a warmth in his own. "I'm always willing to listen to good advice. Gods know I can always use it."

Cor'lana nods a little, a light motion that seems agreeable enough with Jacob's words. "Don't let that fool you," she says. "Pothy might sound like a child, but he's old. I inherited him from my mother, who inherited him from her father--and up the line it goes. It's odd for a sorcerer, which is what I am and where my magic comes from, but that's how it is for me."

She gives Pothy another bun--the bird is ravenous and eats them almost as quickly as they arrive to his mouth--and remarks, "It will come if you work at it. I do not draw my power from the divine, but I do draw mine from my bloodline. It's been through careful study and exploration of my potential that I've gotten to where I am today." There's a sort of careful way that she speaks about the divine--not disrespectful at all, but more measured and wary, like she might not want to offend.

Then she looks up at Jacob. "My advice? Know when you're in over your head--and then learn to ask others for help. You may come across situations where you're outmatched or outpowered. Know when to turn back and get help. Pride is the downfall, as they say."

Jacob's eyes go wide. Pothy was /that old/?! His eyes drift from Cor'lana to Pothy and back to Cor'Lana and back to Pothy, as if in disbelief. "I've always been a little envious of sorcerers. To be born with the night to do good and help solve the problems that plague the land bg the strength of blood alone...I've always admired that." Admired, but he doesn't discount the power of faith. "It's baffling to me that familiars are immortal...or at least yours is. Tell me, are all familiars immortal or is yours special on that way?"

Forever a student.

"I'm a cleric. My faith is my strength. Nothing is difficult, everything is a challenge." Spoken like some kind of mantra, his eyes drift to Cor'lana with a warmth on his face. "I've been over my head a few times now. But, each time I've been with Allie's and friends. I know retreat, but I don't know quit, I'm afraid." he chuckles. "Pride is the great slayer. The greatest of kings and queens have fallen to pride."

"Special," Pothy says, but in a perfect mimic of Cor'lana's voice. This appears to not be anything too off the beaten path for Cor'lana, as she just pats him on the head, smiling. She still hasn't taken a bun for herself yet.

"He's a little special," Cor'lana explains. "Familiars can die if they're killed, but otherwise, I believe they're immortal. They don't age. Most familiars aren't... passed down through the family, but Pothy is. The power I inherited was from my mother's passing, which she inherited from her father's passing, and so on. Pothy's been with everyone since the first of my ancestors to receive this power, and I'm not fully sure how that happened."

She gives Pothy a longer look. "Nor will he tell me fully. For one thing, he's forgotten most details about the past if they didn't have to do immediately with food. The rest he's sworn to not answer, even for me."

Pothy looks back at her. "Snacks," he demands, and Cor'lana offers him a sigh and a smile to go with his bun.

Jacob's eyes widen when Pothy says special in Cor'lana's voice, which REALLY seems to somewhat freak Jacob out considering the lingering wide-eyed stare he has at the strange bird creature. "Wow." Is all he can really say. 'A little special' gets a slow nod without looking at her from Jacob.

"Fascinating." He eventually clears his throat and raps his knuckles against his chest. "That's....unique. I'm an avid reader, even like reading arcane texts, I don't think I've heard of anything like that. That's amazing." He remarks with a wonderful smile. "Though I'm sorry about the price to be paid to inherit such a power." He frowns softly, looking at the ground.

"Sworn by whom?"

There's a bit of a sad look in Cor'lana's violet eyes as Jacob references the 'price to be paid'. She nods, just a little. "It's... Well, the way I inherited wasn't pleasant. And neither was the way my mother inherited hers," she says. "But I know the mistakes that my mother made, and I won't make them. That would be cruel to do to Pothy."

Pothy gets another bun, but even he looks a little sober with the turn in discussion. Then Jacob asks the question. "Secret," he says, mimicking Cor'lana's voice again.

"Another thing he won't tell me," Cor'lana says with a smirk. "The only thing I know about my first maternal ancestor with the power that I inherited--and the first to carry Pothy--was that they were gifted 'the spark of knowledge'. I don't know for certain who gave them the gift, and I doubt I will ever know, even if I bribe Pothy with all of the snacks in the world."

"Everything's a secret for you isn't it my little friend?"

Jacob was entertained and muased by the strange crow bird familiar, but it would appear that he's more focused on Cor'lana, the sadness visible in her expression as he speaks about the price. "Is it too personal a question to ask you about it? I understand it may have been a great weight to bear." he speaks then, but he turns his eyes to Pothy. What on earth happened?

But he won't pursue this line of thought if she doesn't wish to.

Yet, it would appear that even the identity and reasoning of the first bearer of this gift is a giant secret, as spoken by bearer and beholder. "The Spark of Knowledge?" Jacob questions, leaning forward a bit. "I take it the spark is the ability to do what you can do?"

Jacob has partially disconnected.

Cor'lana pauses for a moment as Jacob asks her. "It's..."

She looks at Pothy for a moment. And then she turns her gaze back to Jacob and nods. "It's a long story. The shortest way to sum it up is that my mother, who raised me alone, was afraid of something that she thought was a monster. To give me the ability to protect myself from that monster... She had me participate in a ritual that..."

Cor'lana hesitates a moment. "She turned into nothing. Disintegrated into magic. The ritual also altered my memories and left me unable to remember my own name--just so that the 'monster' couldn't track me down so easily and compel me to reveal information that I couldn't recall. I don't agree with my mother's methods--especially for the pain it caused me later--but she did what she had to do to protect me."

She reaches up and pats Pothy on his feathered head, the bird clearly acting as a source of comfort for her. "In spite of all of that, yes, the power I inherited from her is the ability to do the magic that I'm capable of," she says. "I specialize in enchantment magic like she did, too. I'm not quite to where she was at the height of her power yet--but I'm quickly getting there."

"Complicated..."

Jacob comments on her story, though he seems to look saddened when Ravenstongue tells the story of the ritual and the effect it had on her mother. "...your mother turned into magic?" He frowns deeply, visibly upset at the order of events as she's described. "....was the monster your father?"

He takes a moment to pause. "That's an excessively personal question." He clears his throat. "I'm sorry." Both for the question and the torment she's suffered.

"Enchantments? Hmmm...I may have to come to you for upgrading my weapons and equipment." He laughs.

Was the monster her father? That question would normally put a frown on someone's lips. But for Cor'lana--it's a smile. Her violet eyes twinkle. "No," she says. "The monster turned out to be someone very wonderful. She was only mistaken. Tragic as it was--he's now one of the most important people in my life, second only, perhaps, to my husband."

Pothy looks... slightly restless, suddenly, as his blue eyes peer around, and his tail feathers bob up and down. He beats his wings and takes off into the sky, leaving Cor'lana holding the bag of buns. She rolls her eyes and continues to smile. "I'm afraid not _that_ kind of enchantment," she says to Jacob. "The school of magic that has to do with charms and other mental effects. I know nothing about weapons. Save for one."

She takes a few steps past Jacob. "My apologies--I have to go catch my bird. Thankfully, it's a lovely day for it--"

What she means by that is quickly revealed, as she casts a spell, and wings made of blue light jut out from her back, fading into a violet color that matches her eyes at the end. Cor'lana offers Jacob a little smile. "I'll see you around," she says.

And then she takes flight into the morning sky, following her familiar.