Log 011-C

Havrasti lays on the ground in full form behind his house, near the roaring firepit. A good bonfire is always nice to have. Especially with someone special to share it with, like Sila.
Sila lounges next to the fire, her bracelet hung over the back of a human-sized chair next to the house
Havrasti found the day quite interesting, investigating all those places for the kidnappers of Ellie’s mother. And he is definitely looking forward to the flight out to Vegas tomorrow and more excitement. Excitement he can handle, unlike the elf mages back home.
Sila speaks in draconic as they talk over the day
Havrasti: “It was a good day, you found out a lot of good information.”
Sila: “I still cannot believe that fool left his – euh, computing engine? – full of evidences, plain for any other to see.”
Sila: “This tongue lacks proper terminology for my favored passtime, alas.”
Havrasti: “I suppose you can just borrow the english words for things it doesn’t have. It’s done that itself heavily I understand.”
Sila: “Heh, so also do I understand. But that recalls a thing I had wanted to ask thee…”
Havrasti: “And waht might that be?”
Sila: “Though speakest draconic in a mode /most/ strange sometimes. And thy habit of referring to me in the plural is, well, disconcerting.”
Sila: “WHY dost though DO that?”
Sila: ((er, Thou speakest))
Havrasti: “Huh, never thought about it like that, the plural, rather like the change English had from old fashioned to modern. As for why I sound funny to you, I think it’d be similar to someone of Shakesperian times asking why an American or British is talking funny.”
Havrasti: “You do speak somewhat old fashioned.”
Havrasti: “Ok, quite a bit old fashioned.”
Havrasti is speaking modern draconic, obviously (for the log readers)
Sila: “Old…heheheh…truly? I learnt it from my mother, to be sure. And she learnt it in Esserea, before she came here. And it cannot be denied that she came here somewhat prior to the time of Shakespear.”
Sila: “Hee. I hadn’t thought of the result, before now.”
Havrasti: “Yes, and she also had a life back then before she came. How old was she when she left?”
Sila: “Young, as our race measures time. Not so young as I am, or course – perhaps she had seen a century? Her stories tend to the uncertain in the matter of specific dates.”
Havrasti: “Hmm, and she came before the end of the first millinia, AD, correct?”
Havrasti: “At least, that’s around the time that I associate with the stories of George, Saint I shall call him not.”
Sila: “Sir George – well, I will say this, that I consider it an honor to my father that killing him was apparently considered a miracle.”
Sila: “But yes, perhaps 3 centuries after Christ, my parents came here. It is told me by my mother than my father had the skill of opening the gates between the worlds.”
Havrasti: “Oh, that long ago.”
Sila: “My mother has endured a lifetime of the most extreme change. I must believe that she finally quickened us, not because she felt the time to be stable, but because she feared her own time ran short.”
Havrasti: ((hmm, I need to discuss with Brock more about the specifics of Esseria and Havrasti’s situation before I can really have him talk about his past too much :P ))
Sila: “Does thy family live?”
Havrasti: “I am actually surprised she hadn’t shared her secret sooner with a relatively large number of people, say around the founding of this nation, when things may have looked brightest for fitting in.”
Havrasti: “I… think so, I know some for certain are still alive, my own parents not so much.”
Sila: “Ah too bad.”
Havrasti: “More that they’re missing, even for awhile before I came here.”
Sila: “Oh. That must be terribly stressful to thee, not knowing.”
Havrasti: “And unfortuantely, two of my siblings blame me for that. but my youngest sisters is trying to keep the peace between the three of us.”
Sila: “They blame you? Why should they?”
Havrasti: “Well, not entirely without some backing, it was my fault that led to me and my parents’ capture by the Red King.”
Sila: “Wilt thou tell me the story of it? Or is it too painful for thee to speak of?”
Havrasti: “Well, it was something fool hardy, heh, that perhaps not a few people would approve of in some ways. I was a bit outspoken against the Red King. But went too far, any is too far.”
Havrasti: “Ok, so I would fly over to one of his outposts, a little in the boarder, and taunt the occupants. Got caught one time, and it’d have to be the time my parents came after me to stop it.”
Sila: “Oh dear. Yes, I can see how thy siblings would tend to blame you – though it seems that being caught thine own self would see you fairly punished.”
Havrasti: “Well, rationality often doesn’t come into these sorts of emotions.”
Havrasti: “And unfortuantely, my parents were scholars, so even though they are dragons, they’re a little out of practice with fighting the King’s mages.”
Sila: “Most unfortunate. But are your siblings free then?”
Havrasti: “Yes, they stayed out of the area, back home. Sensible of them. It was my parents’ plan to weather out the storm of war, usually short and not terrible for dragons, when they’re not targetted specifically.”
Sila: “Mmm, I suppose. I gather that my parents weren’t suffering from warfare per say, only genocide. If a word like ‘only’ can indeed be applied to a word like ‘genocide’ at all.”
Havrasti: “They’d keep their territory clear of dangers, and let refugees travel through, often staying the night in a stocked cave set aside for them.”
Sila: “That seems as though it might have attracted this Card King’s attention in due time.”
Havrasti gives Sila an amused look, “The Card King?”
Sila: “Not unlike the queen in ‘Alice in Wonderland,’ you know. Truly, I just hate to give him the dignity of a frightening title.”
Havrasti: “Hrmmm, can’t say that he hasn’t earned it.”
Sila: “What, by behaving the tyrant? Bathed his kingdom in blood has he? And why should I show respect to that? Caution, certainly…”
Sila: “But mother says, she has seen kings and kingdoms come and go, and she moved to the United States when they broke with the king that had been theirs because she agreed with them on the wisdom of serving tyrants.”
Havrasti: “And I look forward to hopefully doing the same ourselves.”
Havrasti: “Though I bet teh first tyrant is always the toughest.”
Sila: “Ourselves you say – meaning Essereans?”
Havrasti: “No, you and I, though them as well, since you brought it up.”
Havrasti: “And Earthlings as well.”
Havrasti: “Live through the troubles, survive, and come out the stronger.”
Sila: “Hmm. I suppose. In the general way of things, I don’t find myself overly troubled with tyrants. Democrats don’t count, really.”
Havrasti laughs
Sila: “Living through the troubles, though, that for a certainty. Any life must have some troubles, soon or late.”
Sila: “Heh, why I have not yet lived a quarter-century and already I have been almost-eaten by a Great Owl and almost-hijacked by goblins and an evil elf.”
Havrasti: “I don’t beleive you’ve told me the Great Owl story.”
Sila: ((make that "I have barely lived a quarter-century; I figure she’s 26 actually))
Sila: “Oh, that was in college. I…do hope he hasn’t realized I am American, he showed rather a strong preference for hunting me down. My friend Leona – you remember meeting her? – she’s a lesser sphynx.”
Sila: “Apparently she stowed away to Britain to escape the results of middle eastern politics.”
Havrasti: “Ah.”
Sila: “Unfortunately, she had not the skill of taking a human form, nor a treasure such as my jewel, and she was living off the land, as they say.”
Sila: “The owls were doing the same, and in the event, I was camping with a hope of getting a bit of hunting in.”
Havrasti: “Intelligent owls, or just owls?”
Sila: ((I assume Havrasti would have at least heard of Great owls, intelligent but rather nasty as a culture, and not prone to acknowledging the obvious rule that ‘food that talks isn’t food.‘))
Sila: "Great Owls, so intelligent. Really, Leona isn’t /that/ small."
Sila: ((Great owls are kind of big too))
Havrasti: ((ok, perhaps he has, but I needed the info))
Sila: ((yeah, sorry))
Havrasti: ((perhaps his above question should have been in (( )) instead of " " :P ))
Havrasti: ((retcon the above to lines, how about))
Havrasti: “I can see trouble coming already.”
Sila: “I haven’t a hint of how a whole colony of the blighters – and I use the term ‘blight’ here advisedly – but I don’t know how they came to be living on the Emerals Isle.”
Sila: “What I knew at the time, however, was that a flying creature was hunting, and the prey was speaking ever so plainly…well, admittedly in a heavy accent.”
Sila: “So I gave the hunter a walking stick to the face, and it went downhill from there.”
Havrasti: “No doubt.”
Sila: “Until, that is, I finally managed to get my bracelet off.”
Havrasti: “Shock and awe all around?”
Sila: “Well, shock and fury, but suffice it say that once I was too large to devour and in possession of my own natural weapons, the owl found it necessary to retreat.”
Sila: “I, ahem, /may/ have damaged a tail feather or three.”
Havrasti: “Nasty blighters, indeed. Great owls and eagles are a great threat to the smaller breeds of dragons back in Esseria, and even to the young of our own breed.”
Havrasti: “So good for you.”
Sila: “Thank you – heh, I did think it best. The problem is that he swore to avenge himself upon me for the ‘humiliation’ of, if I understood rightly, stealing his prey. While he doesn’t seem to have learnt my full name, he did figure out my school and harassed me considerably until I departed the following year.”
Sila: “Luckily for Leona, mother agreed to lend her one of the extra jewels – that is, one of the ones reserved for my unhatched siblings – and we managed to get her through American immigration as a refugee.”
Sila: “She spent a rather uncomfortable semester hiding in the closet of my dorm room between times, since the owl determined himself to have her.”
Havrasti: “I see, so where is she now? And the owl?”
Sila: “Well, Leona lives in town of course. And the owl and his clan are still in northern Ireland, to the best of my awareness.”
Sila: “Heh, I told her if ever I amassed a properly mythical hoard, I would hire her to guard it.”
Sila: Tiny thing in natural form, though, no larger than a bobcat. She says she flies better than the larger races, but I never have beheld them so I couldn’t say."
Havrasti: “Perhaps, I’ver never seen them myself that I can recall.”
Havrasti breaths some flame on the dying fire.
Sila: “Do you control the fires in other ways than creating them?”
Havrasti: “I… haven’t tried.”
Sila: “Ah. Not much the magician. Heh, my mother used to sculpt the flames to tell stories with them.”
Havrasti: ((will have to ask Brock about any potential flame-shaping powers :P :) ))
Sila: “I am not altogether certain if she used magic besides her affinity to do it though. I know how to do the same thing, but it is possible she did it differently.”
Havrasti: “Speaking of magic, I’ll have to teach you sometime how to naturally shapeshift, instead of relying on a magic item, granted it does have its conveniences.”
Sila: “Oh, yes. It does have definite conveniences, but mother insists we could learn to do without. The thing is, we’ve been focusing on other uses of our natural magic, since the jewels /are/ so convenient and available and all, and… well, mother doesn’t have much energy for demonstrating these days.”
Havrasti: “Understandable, she is very ancient, not to mentioned the radiation. Still, I’m think when we’re a bit farther along in our betrothal before I teach you. There’s going human-form nudity after all (speaking of convenieces of the magic items).”
Sila: "Heh, that is a rather significant convenience. Mother says the jewels have an “account” in “otherwhere” and they store things there. I’m not at all certain how literally to take it. My professors as school insisted on speaking of electrons “liking” and “disliking” things, after all."
Havrasti: “Do they?”
Sila: “Eh…not in that sense, although… well I admit, it is not particularly easy to explain otherwise.”
Sila: “It is …/right/ for an electron in such-and-such a situation to do such-and-such a thing, in the same way it is /right/ for a stone to fall when it is dropped from a height.”
Sila: “Does the stone ‘like’ to fall?”
Havrasti: “I don’t think it likes.”
Sila shrugs her wings
Sila: “Same principle, whatever you call it then.”
Havrasti: “Eh, I’ll just call it ‘physics’ and be done with it.”
Sila: “And yet, we know whereof someone speaks when they say something falls like a homesick rock.”
Havrasti: “…I’ve never heard that expression before.”
Sila: “Ah? Must be a human-ism.”
Havrasti: “Possibly.”

Log 011-C

Red King's Command The_Grand_User