3 (Lirael is the 3 XD Because yeah)roadstotheriverSeptember 3 2011, 21:30:24 UTC
Dressed in surcoat gethre mail, and girded in sword and bells, Lirael is cantering down the road on her black steed with her guard dog by her side, eyes wary for any sign of danger or trouble that she might have do something about. She's lately come from the castle, and is making her way across the countryside, looking for wrongs to right.
like I said TTLY NOT ROLLINGnaochansenseiSeptember 3 2011, 22:14:30 UTC
Along her route, there's a brightly-colored wagon pulled up near the roadside, easily identifiable as belonging to one of those wandering pseudo-mystics who tend to be regarded warily wherever they go, but nevertheless can always find places to ply their fortune-telling and peddling of potions and trinkets, at least until they get accused of pulling a scam and are run off by the locals until next year or so. Sometimes they roam and groups and sometimes they go solo, and this seems to be one of the latter.
There's a little man in nearly garish clothing, bright red and orange and exotically cut, with a furry cowl around the shoulders that might be meant to resemble the mane of the lion drowsing in the shade nearby. The fur of the beast has either been painted or dyed with "mystic" markings, and it seems quite unbothered by the ruckus being made by its human companion, who is humming brightly to himself as he bustles around his campfire.
Didn't expect you to XDroadstotheriverSeptember 3 2011, 22:29:16 UTC
Reining her horse in, Lirael looks down at the lion-maned man with confusion and a little bit of irritation. Is this one of the fakes? Or a decent magician? And if he's decent, is he one of the good magicians...? It's impossible to tell.
"Sir," she calls from her lofty vantage point. Might as well investigate a little. "It is a little early to be stopping for the evening, is it not?"
The man pops upright with a little noise of surprise. He'd have to be deaf not to hear the approach of someone on horseback, but since he heard her talk, he's either just that oblivious until spoken to or just had no reason to feel alarmed at the sound of heavily-armed approach in the first place. He shows no alarm at the sight of the knight, either, nor guilt nor shiftiness as some arcane peddlers do when faced with the law. His lion only pops an eye open, flicks a rounded ear, then yawns and puts a massive paw over its eyes as it returns to sleep.
The little vagrant puts down an armload of varied gods-know-what along with more of the same beside the fire and a stool there, then stands again and beams at her with arms spread wide.
"If you're stopping for the evening, certainly, Ser! But not if you're stopping for the Day!" And he pops a hand up at the bright noon sky.
Lirael's dog, tail a-wag and eyes bright, bounds over to the lion for a sniff and a whine for attention, apparently fearless. Lirael lets her, and looks down skeptically at the little man. Being a knight, today, she's got more confidence than she might, otherwise.
"Here? What in the name of the Charter are you stopping here for?"
"Why shouldn't I stop here?" he returns brightly, attention drifting unconcernedly to watch the dog bound over to his lion. The kingly beast shuffled its paw aside to pick its head back up, slowly stretching its head out to sniff back... and then, plop, down came that huge paw upon the dog's head like the lion might bat harmlessly at one of his rambunctious cubs.
With an unsurprised chuckle, the peddler beamed back up at the mounted knight. "Wherever I am when it's time to stop for the Day, that's where I stop! It makes picking campsites fantastically easy, you know."
Giving a startled whuff, the dog scampers back and snorts at the big cat, then starts barking. Lirael winces, sighs, and turns to swing off her horse to retrieve her. "Sorry...." Though for the dog or for questioning him is up in the air. "Who are you, then?"
The lion crosses its paws and flops its head down on them, seeming to regard the dog with haughty amusement, unruffled by the barking.
As for the little man, he flourishes a bow so deep that the golden circlet he wears nearly tumbles right off his head. He catches it and pops it back in place in one smooth motion as he stands back up, suggesting he's had to do that a million times before.
"I'm Naoshi the Suncaller, good Ser!" he announces merrily. "And my faithful feline friend over there calls himself Shishiza. We hail from Seigetsu, that far eastern City of the Crescent Star!" A bright mage-title and respectable hometown, certainly, but any peddler can claim anything they like, wandering free like this.
"The Suncaller? Kibeth, shush," she tells the dog firmly, taking her by the collar and hauling her back from the lion. At least the bigger beast seems quite tame, as Lirael eyes it. "So do you call the sun?" That would be intriguing to watch, at the very least. She's familiar with Seigetsu-- her liege has an envoy there, in fact-- but she's never been there. All she really knows is they study the stars there, and not a one of them look alike.
"Hehheh, well, in a manner," Naoshi answers with a wink, rolling back his sleeves. Although a cut that fanciful has to be custom, his clothes seem too big for his skinny frame nevertheless.
He looks up at the sun, directly and unblinking, to pluck at the air and then bring his hand down in a closed fist. When he opens his hand again, a tiny ball of white-hot flame like a miniature sun burns there, which he proceeds to pass back and forth between his hands. It grows with every exchange, as if he's rolling mass into it that way, and before long it's about the size of an orange, and he's juggling it around and rolling it along his shoulders and forearms and the backs of his hands rather like a circus performer instead of a mage.
Looking vaguely curious, but assuming it to be some kind of illusion, Lirael cocks her head and watches a moment before aiming to stick a finger into the pack of that flying ball of light, not quite close enough to get burned if it is fire, but close enough to feel the heat. Just to test it.
"Oh, maybe not this exactly, there's only so much you can do flinging sun-fire around--" only so much that doesn't involve destruction and mayhem, anyhow, "--but it's not my only--geh!"
Her reaching for his fire obviously frightens him and he recoils, clutching the orb safely out of range. His is not a guilty startle, however; the knight would have felt, indeed, the bright heat radiating from his spell. He feared not discovering of a false illusion, but of her hurting herself!
"So it's real fire, then." Lirael is mildly intrigued now, at least. He's a real mage, all right-- a fire mage, apparently, not just illusion. It's actual interest as much as professional necessity that makes her ask: "What else do you do to make a living, if juggling sun-fire isn't it?"
Naoshi is flustered with concern for a moment, staring at the knight's hands to be sure she didn't accidentally harm herself. Then he cups his hand around his fireball and extinguishes his spell by pressing them together, flicking harmless little sparks off his fingers like water droplets afterwards.
"Ah, well. Heh. The usual expected things. Potions, charms, bespelled trinkets." There was no need for him to say his actually worked. He worked his way towards a smile again, getting over his little shock. "I've enchanted forges for blacksmiths, and drawn fevers for healers. Little things."
And larger things. But no one wanted to know a mage had the power for larger things, even when they were good. Not unless they had the mage on a tight leash, anyhow, and Naoshi valued his freedom most highly.
"Really." Lirael is intrigued, and a little bit hopeful. "Can you enchant anything? Do you have a limit on what you can do, besides it having to do with fire, I assume?" Since everything he mentioned has to do with fire and heat, surely that must be what his spells are all related to. As she's a knight for the king, she has the money to spend, and he seems to know his trade... and be concerned for other people's safety, at that.
Reply
Reply
There's a little man in nearly garish clothing, bright red and orange and exotically cut, with a furry cowl around the shoulders that might be meant to resemble the mane of the lion drowsing in the shade nearby. The fur of the beast has either been painted or dyed with "mystic" markings, and it seems quite unbothered by the ruckus being made by its human companion, who is humming brightly to himself as he bustles around his campfire.
Reply
"Sir," she calls from her lofty vantage point. Might as well investigate a little. "It is a little early to be stopping for the evening, is it not?"
Reply
The little vagrant puts down an armload of varied gods-know-what along with more of the same beside the fire and a stool there, then stands again and beams at her with arms spread wide.
"If you're stopping for the evening, certainly, Ser! But not if you're stopping for the Day!" And he pops a hand up at the bright noon sky.
Reply
"Here? What in the name of the Charter are you stopping here for?"
Reply
With an unsurprised chuckle, the peddler beamed back up at the mounted knight. "Wherever I am when it's time to stop for the Day, that's where I stop! It makes picking campsites fantastically easy, you know."
Reply
Reply
As for the little man, he flourishes a bow so deep that the golden circlet he wears nearly tumbles right off his head. He catches it and pops it back in place in one smooth motion as he stands back up, suggesting he's had to do that a million times before.
"I'm Naoshi the Suncaller, good Ser!" he announces merrily. "And my faithful feline friend over there calls himself Shishiza. We hail from Seigetsu, that far eastern City of the Crescent Star!" A bright mage-title and respectable hometown, certainly, but any peddler can claim anything they like, wandering free like this.
Reply
Reply
He looks up at the sun, directly and unblinking, to pluck at the air and then bring his hand down in a closed fist. When he opens his hand again, a tiny ball of white-hot flame like a miniature sun burns there, which he proceeds to pass back and forth between his hands. It grows with every exchange, as if he's rolling mass into it that way, and before long it's about the size of an orange, and he's juggling it around and rolling it along his shoulders and forearms and the backs of his hands rather like a circus performer instead of a mage.
Reply
Looking vaguely curious, but assuming it to be some kind of illusion, Lirael cocks her head and watches a moment before aiming to stick a finger into the pack of that flying ball of light, not quite close enough to get burned if it is fire, but close enough to feel the heat. Just to test it.
Reply
Her reaching for his fire obviously frightens him and he recoils, clutching the orb safely out of range. His is not a guilty startle, however; the knight would have felt, indeed, the bright heat radiating from his spell. He feared not discovering of a false illusion, but of her hurting herself!
"Careful, it'll burn you!"
Reply
Reply
"Ah, well. Heh. The usual expected things. Potions, charms, bespelled trinkets." There was no need for him to say his actually worked. He worked his way towards a smile again, getting over his little shock. "I've enchanted forges for blacksmiths, and drawn fevers for healers. Little things."
And larger things. But no one wanted to know a mage had the power for larger things, even when they were good. Not unless they had the mage on a tight leash, anyhow, and Naoshi valued his freedom most highly.
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment