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Topics - Tuvian Fulminare

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1
Strigavi / Fire and Ice
« on: July 18, 2021, 01:41:11 PM »

TERRITORY: Askavi, Strigavi
CITY/location: Just outside of Ligure, on the edge of the Painted River,  The Sea and Sky Tavern.
SPOTIFY LINK: Fire and Ice by Pat Benetar
Attire: Elegant golden gown, leopard hide belt, elegant sandals that strap all the way up.
PURPOSE: Meet Talimar, give him the news!
TIME: Summer, AW 104
TAGS: [ @Talimar ]


Fire and ice
You come on like a flame
Then you turn a cold shoulder




The only good thing about the Winds being destabilized, was that Tuvian was free to fly. High, far, fast. A gold-black glint in the sky, her distant shadow blessing or curse to those below, depending upon the weather. Banking swiftly, she folded her wings and dropped below her dual Escorts. Their hunting cries were snatched from her by the wind of her passage, but a brush of power from each of them assured her she was still well within their net. Good, good.

Her oldest son, Gladiar, dove directly after her. Foolish; she had too much of a head start. But the young Warlord Prince’s instinct to give chase ruled him still. Just before he closed with her, she spun in place. Her Purple Dusk wrapped around him in a physical shield, then pulled tight, fouling his wings. As he fell past her, she reached out to touch his nose, counting coup. He snarled and laughed at once, more horrified by her re-enacting a childhood ritual than by the plummet towards the earth.

The air shifted behind her, as her second son swooped on a nearly-perfect trajectory to foul her wings with his wind-shear… but he was young, eager, and far too interested in jeering at his brother. The young Prince did not often beat his twin in combat drills.

Silly boy. He should not have let himself become distracted, and not gotten quite so close to her. Tuvian swept her legs close to her body, and then kicked him hard, right in his puffed up chest. Had they been upon the ground, it would not have moved him. Even in the air, his more massive, heavily muscled form barely moved.

But she shot away from him as if launched. And that’s when he felt her Purple Dusk Psychic Probe, from the softer, unnoticed touch to his bare arm. A simple one, carrying enough of her Healing Gift to mess with his inner ears.

He fell into a flat spin, which ought to have taken him out. But a young Prince is not easily defeated, even (or especially) when things are bleakest. No, the clever young scamp added power to his spin, despite the blinding pain of the inner ear imbalance she’d triggered. His Birthright Summer-sky was more than strong enough to capture all three of them in the miniature whirlwind.

Tuvian’s laughter rippled through the sky, and she deftly wove a Blood Opal Cushioning Spell to catch all of them, setting them down gently.

Gladiar bounced to his feet, helping up his mother but leaving Ferriar to fend for himself. He was more serious now, painfully aware of his duty as Escort. His gaze swept around, nose sniffing the air as he sought information from the discreet Hunter’s Mark Tuvian had asked him to place upon Prince Talimar. “He’s here, Mother.”

“Please keep track of him, in case he bolts.”

The Sea and Sky Tavern was an elegant, tall tower crafted in the era before Witch. Before the Black Age. The first six floors were a lovely blue-green stone, the concentric circles of each floor growing smaller as it grew in height. This left a plethora of outdoor dinning and tall blooming from the terraces so created. The back of the tower intersected a waterfall, creating an entrancing sound reminiscent of the ocean. Curling flows of water both maintained the foliage, and curled into beautifully sculpted water art all along the Tavern. Occasionally, spills of water were allowed to fall from one floor to the next, providing both privacy screens and a cool place to rest, even in the height of summer. Then next two floors shot free of the water fall, and were crafted of vast white ash trees, each several feet across, the inner limbs woven together through skill and Craft to form the next floor, the outer limbs curved high and wide to create private booths, landing pads, and even one large banquet hall. A final, slender spire was crafted of a brilliant, white shaped granite in so fine a lattice work one might be forgiven for thinking the entire structure created by the Dea al Mon.

But oh, if you knew the heart of an Eyrien, you understood the appeal of a tavern that soared defiantly into the heavens. Without even speaking, the three Eyriens took to the sky and shot towards the first of the white ash levels. Upon landing, she released her twin sons to enjoy the Tavern. At 104, they were old enough to feel a pang of conscious about allowing a dual Caste Priestess Healer and the Territory Court High Priestess to be on her own, but young enough that the lure of ditching their mother won out over duty.

 Which was precisely why she’d chosen them as Escort today. The coming interview would go much, much better if Prince Talimar did not have any male allies readily to hand. While her children fled, Tuvian extended her senses, and sought for the unique Psychic presence that she sought.

A swift brush of craft neatened her loose bun, and removed all debris from the soft, golden gown she wore. Sandaled feet with delicate straps elegantly wrapped up her legs. A leopard sash bound her waist, highlighting the gold dust in her wings and the black accents of her eyes. Tuvian did not bother to conceal the ragged scar with its star-like marks upon her upper left arm. Nor did she employ craft to conceal the whip marks along her wings, back and neck. The man she sought out had been wounded far, far more grievously.


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