| Logs |
2009 January 20
| When The Bough Breaks |
| Realms |
Retired
| Reality Fault |
General Info
 |
| Realms: Bough Logs |
Second Movement, First Solo
The group looks upon Alexandria for a few moments, a quiet yet metropolitan city, before Ataraxos says, "Well! I would ask your indulgence for an hour or so while I go in and get some supplies. Mikal, I can't tell you how much you hunting for me is so very helpful, but there are, alas, a few things that unfortunately your bow and your packmate won't be able to bring down that I will need to eat." He pauses for effect. "Such as the wild potato. Feral things, and vicious when cornered." He says it with a grin and a twinkle in his eye.
Mikal laughs quietly, rubbing one hand along the big fey-stag's thick mane. He's already pragmatically grazing, and she grins shyly at the satyr, "S-sorry... I n-never learned all the non-medical herbs and roots, I'm afraid?"
"Oh, I see! Forgive me, please. A potato is a vegetable. Satyrs unfortunately cannot live on meat alone, otherwise I'd be eating quite royally whilst travelling with you."
Mikal grins shyly again, nodding, "I used to eat a lot of greens in my soups and stews for just that reason." She adds a bit sheepishly, "I, um, d-don't recognize everything here yet..."
BoughGM says, "As I said, it's fine, Mikal. Your hunting is a greater boon than I could have hoped for." he pauses for a moment. "If you like, I can show you the vegetables and fruits that are in the marketplace. Perhaps they will help you to recognize them in the wilds? I can promise that Alexandria's market is much, much more sedate than Icewell's. Scholars have little time or tolerance for haggling.""
Mikal hesitates, looking uncomfortable as she looks around. Finally she drops her gaze almost guiltily to her hands, murmuring, "I, um, I d-d-d-... uh..." she shakes her head nervously, "N-n-no thankyou..."
Ataraxos considers for a moment, then smiles. "No worries then, Mikal. Shall I give your regards to the forestry scholars and map-makers?"
Mikal gives the satyr a wondering look, "They've heard of me? Already?!"
Ataraxos chuckles softly. "No, they haven't... but they are in the city. There is a wing of the Library devoted to maps and charts of the Dreamtime. And many shelves and scholars devoted to studying forestcraft."
Mikal nods slowly, trying to imagine that. "Do, um, is there... do they have anyone who knows, uh, knows about the Wild?"
"I'm certain they have a number of scholars who study the Deep Wyld, yes."
Mikal adds a bit confusedly, "And... is that part of the Dreamtime? I always get it mixed up. Or is the Dreamtime through that mirror thing?"
Mikal adds a bit wonderingly again, "Important scholars... and they'd be willing to talk to me?"
"Ah, I see. No, you are in the Dreamtime now. The Mirror leads to the Waking. The Wyld is what is outside the walls surrounding the Mirror, and beyond the mountains is the Deep Wyld.
"I can't imagine any of them not wanting to speak with a charming mortal as yourself, Mikal."
Mikal says, "S-so the, the Wild is... is in the Dreamtime too?"
At his compliment, Mikal flushes and ducks her head in embarrassment.
He nods, "Oh, yes. Think of it this way: The Dreamtime is like a large kingdom. At the heart of the kingdom is the Mirror. Outside the heart of the kingdom, but not quite reaching the borderlands, is the Wyld. The borderlands of the kingdom are the Deep Wyld."
Mikal nods silently, thinking hard... then shyly whispers, "Um... can Raphael and Iron Antlers come too?"
Ataraxos considers them for a moment. "Into the city, it shan't be a problem. Into the library, we'd have to ask at the door.
Mikal glances inquiringly at Raphael... then nods shyly to Ataraxos, "Um... a-all right then."
Ataraxos smiles, and walks with Mikal to the city. He was correct on that account: Alexandria, for all it's size, is a quiet city, out of respect for the scholars in the massive library. The market is certainly relaxed, lacking the bustle of both Snowcrest's and Icewell's markets. He doesn't lead her to the market right away, though, instead bringing her to the library first.
The interior is large and reminds Mikal a little of the small church in Staunton... on a scale about a thousand times larger. The vaulted cielings are cavernous, the whole of the edifice so large that she can see rock doves nesting and flitting about the high rafters up above, flitting through the dust-glittered rays of light that stream in through the high, narrow windows. The library has a faintly pleasant musty smell, the scent of countless pages of vellum and parchment and more exotic materiel. It's extremely quiet with a muted rustling of people walking, talking very quietly, or scribbling notes at the many desks and tables.
Mikal is relieved they bypass the marketplace. The library, however, astonishes her and she gawps up and all around herself, awed, in classic tourist fashion. She looks around at the books as well -- she's never seen so many books before! She's only seen one or two in her whole life, after all. She clutches Ataraxos' sleeve nervously, sticking very close to him, asking Raphael to stick close on her other side.
Ataraxos seems to not mind at all that Mikal clutches his sleeve. He pats her hand reassuringly, smiling to her, and carefully ushers her to one wing of the library. It is a large circular room. The center of the room is clear, and it takes a moment for Mikal to realize that, inlayed into the floor, is an amazingly detailed map of the Dreamtime. Six large tables and six shelves are set equidistantly around the room, matching the six major features that are on the edge of the map: four pillars, and at opposite to each other, a small tree, and a pedistal made from red sandstone. The shelves have hundreds of scrolls of various sizes. There are perhaps seven or eight robed men and women in the room, in three groups crowded together amongst the tables.
"This is the maps room," Ataraxos whispers. "Every unique and important map of the Dreamtime -- and many that are curiosities only -- is here. It's said that even the map in the Winter Palace pales in comparison to the one here."
BoughGM says, "The big map in the center or the room is kept clear. Outward from it are the pillars, one tree and one pedestal, all equidistant from one another; the tree and the pedistal are opposite each other. Outward from that are the tables and the shelves."
Mikal stands on tiptoes, still clutching the satyr's sleeve as she whispers, "What's the tree and that stone thingie for?"
"They represent the ash tree Yggdrasil and the plateau Uluru, two of the six major featres of the Dreamtime that aren't mountains.
"And the pillars represent the four mountains: Zion, Olympus, Meru, and Fuji.
Mikal brightens, "I've heard of the World Tree!" She looks around carefully at the floor, checking to see what information on the Wylde and Deep Wylde, if any, is inlaid as well.
The Wyld, the area within a circular border made by the six major landmarks, is remarkably detailed. The map is a little hard to read at first, since all the symbols are oriented as if one were viewing it from the center of the map, but it is n't hard for Mikal to grasp it. If she leans in close she can even spot Snowcrest Village and the Valley of Snow. There are a few spots where someone apparently came by later and made corrections to the map. The cities and towns are clearly marked; she can spot Thebes, Alexandria, and the Winter Palace without any problem, and if it's any indicator they've made amazingly good time in their trip so far. She an even see the sprawl of Babylon, whch Captain Wilmarth mentioned a few times.
Considerably less detail is visible about areas beyond the mountains, in the Deep Wyld. In fact, beyond a day's journey, there's almost no detail. What places are visible, though, seem to be marked with strange symbols that seem to be more evocative rather than descriptive. Possibly, as Tomas once quipped, 'Here be dragons.'
Mikal gets fascinated quickly by the map, forgetting to hold onto the satyr's sleeve as she slowly paces around the map, staring intently at it, one hand resting on Raphael's rough mane. She's murmuring quietly to herself, "All right, if that's the palace, then... ah, right... and that must -- yes, hmm... hmm, wonder what these mean?" She's staring at the evocative symbols puzzledly by that point.
Quietly, from behind them both, comes a quiet, "May I help you?"
Mikal doesn't look up, being quite fascinated, "What do these all mean, do you know?"
There is a moment of seemingly stunned silence, and the same voice replies, "They are symbols of the various realms and such that have managed to remain coherent in the Deep Wyld. Some are warning symbols."
Mikal nods thoughtfully, still completely absorbed in the map, glancing back and forth, "All right... so this area's good, and so's that one, and they're, um... hm, they're the closest to the palace, so barring accident we should be able to reach them." Her gaze sweeps the floor as she searches, "Now... how do I figure out which one's the one Tigernmus came from, so I can help him return..."
There is another pause, then a pair of sandaled footsteps come up to stand beside Mikal. "What is the domain of this... Tigernmus person?"
Mikal says, "The place's name sounded like Magslacked."
The silence this time is almost audibly shocked. "Mag... Sleacht? But... they haven't been heard from since before the Godswar."
Mikal says, "Well, Tigernmus is visiting the palace, and I promised to help him get home." She's on her hands and knees by now, carefully measuring and muttering to herself, "All right, this distance was about a day's travel, so... if this is accurate, then... how many days are we talking here...""
Mikal has yet to look up -- she's discovering she really likes maps! They're so... informative, without being confusing like humans are!
The voice, still sounding stunned, says, "Travel times and distances are... unreliable within the Deep Wyld. It's as much measured by a desire to reach your destination as it is the location of the destination. I beg your pardon, you said that Mag Sleact had sent an emissary to the Winter Palace?"
Mikal sits back with her hands on her thighs, frowning thoughtfully, "Really? Well then, I desire it to be nice and logical and take the ten or so days' travel it measures out to!" She nods firmly to herself, doing one last double-check for any signals or symbols between the palace and her target. "Uhm, yeah, his name is Tigernmus -- great big guy. Do you have anyone who can talk to me about Magslackt?"
Mikal has disconnected. (OOC) Mikal falls asleep. There is another pause. "I am currently studying the lore of lost realms. I can tell you what has been written of Mag Sleacht and which survived the Godswar.
Mikal brightens, "Fantastic, thank you! Can you tell me what that and that and that symbol over there means?" She's pointing at the various symbols as she speaks.
The scholar pauses again -- perhaps sharing a glance with Aaraxos -- before saying. "That one, the symbol with the dagger and skull, is an ancient outpost of the Qaynim, now in rins. It is best to avoid it. The next one, with the winged frog, is a waystation on the ancient trade route to Irem of the Thousand Pillars. It is best to avoid it. The one with what looks like a falcon is Lothannen, a colony of the Alfar, now in ruins. It is best to avoid it. The symbol with a large hollow 'X' is a permament nether-squall. For mortals such as ourselves it would present no hinderance."
Mikal puzzledly murmurs, "Why is it best to avoid everything? And if it should all be avoided, why are the symbols different?"
"Not every danger is alike. And some have interest in certain locations or points of interest."
Mikal hms, looking back and forth, then adds thoughtfully, "If... if your desire dictates your location, though... then it should be easy to avoid all these places, yes?"
"I meant that desire is as much a part as location. Otherwise, every scholar from here to Babylon could walk out into the Deep Wyld and find Atlantis within a day. That such has not happened yet is an indication that it takes more than desire, but desire is part of it."
Mikal frowns puzzledly, "But... isn't Atlantis underwater?" She pauses, staring at the map confusedly and murmuring, "And... how do I know that?"
The person is silent for a moment. "There... are legends that Atlantis sunk under the waves... but those legends date to well before the Godswar." The person pauses. "You just remembered it, didn't you?"
Mikal nods, looking up for the first time, "Yes! How did you know? You said you were mortal -- has it happened to you also?"
The person looks to be actually about Mikal's age, and also female, though her hair is a dark mahogany, and her eyes have a faintly haunted quality to them. She carries a bundle of scrolls in her arms. She nods, once. "For me it was realizing that the kitsune, oni, kappa, samebito, and bakeneko all speak a language called Japanese. And that for some reason I could speak that language, too."
"It was neither the first, nor the last, time that happened to me.
Mikal nods slowly, sympathy on her face -- she can understand that haunted look in the woman's eyes. "So... what does that mean, please?" A moment later she brightens, "Wait -- did you say there are more kitsune?! The lady Okoree will be pleased, if so! Have you met her?"
She smiles wanly. "I have very little idea what that means. It's... annoying, sometimes, to have all these tidbits of knowledge from the Waking. But over time they start to paint a picture of our lives there. We start to remember. There are a handful of kitsune that I've met. There's perhaps one or two in Alexandria. I have not met the Okori-san but I think I have heard of her. She lives in the Winter Palace, doesn't she?"
Mikal nods excitedly, rising smoothly to her feet, "Yes, and she doesn't know there are other kitsune -- she thinks she's alone! She'll be thrilled to hear there are more kitsune, I'm sure?"
The girl smiles quietly. "Oh, good. Yes, I'm sure that will. All the kitsune I know are terribly lonely. If you let her know, I am sure she will appreciate it.
Mikal beams -- then looks inquiring, "Don't you want to tell her yourself? You know where the other kitsune are, after all, right?"
She shakes her head, lifting up the scrolls briefly. "I've too many studies to attend to. As I said, I am studying all the lost realms. It will take a lifetime, if not more, for me to learn all I need to."
Mikal says, "Oh! I'm so sorry -- I'm Mikal and that's Raphael, my half-brother, and that's Ataraxos, our guide." She smiles, adding, "What's your name?"
Mikal says, "And what is it you're trying to discover?"
She smiles, inclining her head. "Shen Yi. And I am trying to find my little brother."
Mikal's eyes widen, "Oh, no! Is he missing? Did he go off into the Wilds?" She thinks a moment, then adds pragmatically -- since she intends to travel in the Wylde, after all, "What does he look like, please?"
She inclines her head. "I know only that he has gone to Shambhala. I do not know where Shambhala is, only that it is in the Deep Wyld and that a war was fought between it and a city called Enoch-Nod. Beyond that... Well. I continue to study."
Mikal nods slowly, listening and glancing around the floor map.
"We came to the Dreamtime in likely much the same way you did, and the less spoken of it the better. The aelfar took us in, comforted us as best as they could, but my little brother left shortly after. I heard later that he had gone to Shambhala. And so now I seek where he went to, that I might join him."
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