RP:Fallen

 Summary: Following the path of a falling object, Raphaline stumbles upon an avian that has returned to a home he no longer recognizes.

Date of Writing: Uncertain. In Late September or early October of 2019. 

FALLEN

 Somewhere Between Kelay and Larket
Groping branches reach out across the pathway, leading both east and west. The view is clear here in all directions. The dirt beneath is hard packed and lined by heavy logs. Off the road, however, the forest becomes more rugged, and much more difficult to circumnavigate. It would be advisable to stay upon the set path, though anyone with guts could expose themselves to the mystical intrigue of the deeper eaves.

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  [Uriphiel] The heavens above are bathed in the gentle kiss of nightfall. Stars twinkle to the tune of life and death; Each light gifted from distant, dying celestials that search through the cosmos for anyone in which they may tell their eternal story. To anyone that would look above and stargaze, one light in particular seems to grow, as if the artist accidentally spilled a drop of paint upon the divine canvas. It's approach is fast, a guided freefall, casting upon the countryside a blinding fiery light when it finally soars overhead. It sings a spirited golden symphony as it descends, earthbound, finally reaching its crescendo when it collides with solid ground. Thunder claps vociferously. Terra quakes. Silence soon follows. Not far past the threshold of flora and fauna that lines the path toward Larket, the faint sound of hissing reaches out from a large crater of felled trees and dirt like some sort of menacing warning. There is a smell of brimstone, mixed with something familiar; A scent that both repels, and brings back warm memories for any observer even in this strange and unsettling scene. Should one peer over the fringe of the small impact site, their vision may very well be impaired by a blinding golden light surrounding a very humanoid shape. It is only when the eyes calibrate to peer past the radiance, that one would determine that in the center of the crater, lie a large flaxen haired man with rather large wings; Wings whose feathers seem to shimmer and shine with a gilded golden lustre.
  
  
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  Raphaline weaves amongst the trees and brush of northern sage with a familiar ease. Her path is an old one, worn by the footsteps of travelers like herself heading for Larket. Usually the forest is full of the small croaks and cries of the amphibian and avian, but tonight the forest seems to be rather silent. As she makes her way out of a thicket of trees she turns her emerald gaze up towards the sky so she can admire the stars above. Smiling, she notes the very clear state of the sky and makes a note to draw some more of the constellations into her notebook. As she spots the trail curving up towards the bridge, she hefts her violin case up and begins to make the final leg of her journey. Or at least, that had been the plan. When a bright light begins its descent into the part of the forest she is in, she makes it a point to stop. The light flies over her head and with a resounding crack, lands somewhere behind where she stands. At first, her instincts tell her to make for the city like there is no tomorrow, but the curious side of her presses for her to go and discover! Neglecting the logical side of her thoughts, she turns back towards where the sound came and makes her way quickly through the trees. Upon arrival, she sees the crater and notes its size. What could it be? She sets both her violin case and her traveling satchel off to the side before she gingerly makes her way closer. She raises a hand to her eyes as the golden light temporarily blinds her before she can adjust. She peers down at the golden figure with a mixture of awe and interest before she carefully climbs down into the crater. While she does keep a safe distance from him, she does inquire into his health. “Hello?” She asks, her dulcet, musical voice asks with a mixture of worry and caution. “Are you alright?” She takes a step closer as her healer instincts begin to override her better judgement; best to make sure he is still breathing.
  
  
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  [Uriphiel] Raphaline's trepidatious and mellifluous voice causes Uriphiel to stir. The radiant glow has now faded, although whatever light that is afforded from nearby sources still reflects off of those shimmering golden wings. Each feathered appendage starts to move on its own as the man shifts and writhes, pushing himself up from a prone position. Fingers sink into soft earth, knees digging small cavities in which to help the avian find a firm foothold to push himself upward. His attire is much to be desired; Tattered rags of faded navy and white. Any armor that he had been wearing is shattered and strewn all about the small crater. There was nothing left to salvage. The large blonde man began to wheeze and gasp as air infiltrated his lungs, a wretched sound reminiscent of one who had just come back from nearly drowning. He would cough and sputter momentarily before finally finding within himself the strength to stand fully. He turned to face the stranger that had called out. "Where... am I?" he asked with a wintery cold tone. Irises of gold fixated upon the elven woman with a stone indifference, sizing her up as if she might be some sort of potential threat. In his hand, Uriphiel held firm to the hilt of a weapon that was void of any useable blade.
  
  
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  Raphaline starts to move closer as she hears his ragged coughing but stops moving towards him as soon as he begins to stand. From a distance she once more checks him over for injuries with a quiet eye before centering her gaze on his. Dusting back a red curl she says, “Lithrydel. Northern Sage forest on the outskirts of Larket to be exact.” The tone of voice and the broken sword both put her a bit more on edge as she worries he might outright attack her. In hopes that she might be able to dissuade such violent actions she adds, “I am a healer in these parts. Are you injured anywhere? Ill of any sort?” She holds out both her hands, revealing that she possesses no sort of blade or weapon on hand, nor aggressive intentions towards him either. If he moves closer, he might notice that both her hands are calloused along the finger tips, and her wares speak leagues about her own traveling nature. If she were a warrior of any sort, she would be a very under dressed one.
  
  
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  Uriphiel is meticulous in his observation of the redheaded woman, taking note now of the belongings she carries. Her open and empty hands are a relief, although it does not quite change his arctic disposition toward her. "Lithrydel. Then, I am home. I have never heard of this Larket. Is it a new Elven settlement?" The avian drops his hardened stance, relaxing his grip on the hilt as he opts to inspect himself for injury. No broken bones. No lacerations. No contusions. Not a single drop of blood anywhere. He was in quite pristine condition. As it might be concluded, the golden radiance that had enveloped the man in his descent appears to have been some sort of protective barrier that allowed him to fall unharmed. Although, it was obvious that he did not cast such a spell as he said with mild surprise. "I am ...fine?" He soon looks to Raphaline and asks in a tone that would indicate interrogation. "What news is there of the war? Have Arrecation's forces been pushed back? What of the Avian cities? Have any more fallen?"
  
  
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  Raphaline is very sure he will not like what she has to tell him, so, she mentally prepares herself. “Larket has been around for a long time now. It is not Elven at all, in fact it is a very human run city. As for these Arrecation forces, they must be long gone. Same goes for the main avian city. No one ventures up there anymore because there is nothing to be found. The only living city is Schezerade, and it is south of the Xalious mountains near where the Mage tower is.” And breath. She doesn’t offer anything else, mostly because this is the only information she does know conclusively. Her hopes are that he doesn’t make anything explode, because really, she does not feel like having to whip out her own magic to ward of flying trees or rocks. She does feel sympathy for the avian, it is difficult to come back and find everything you know gone. “At least you aren’t injured. From as high up as you were, I was worried the impact may have broken an arm or better yet a wing,” she says, studying his wings once more and noticing the golden glow around him that he had no memory of placing on himself. Interesting. “Do you mind if I make a quick assessment? I have dealt in magical injuries and entanglements as well. Comes in handy when there are so many spell slingers around here these days,” she adds, trying to lighten the mood with a soft smile
  
  
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  Uriphiel knit his flaxen brow as he made an attempt to process the information. "Long gone? Only avian city? Schezerade?" He repeated with an inflection of loss. "No. It can not be. The Avian Empire has fallen?" The large man, who stood nearly seven feet in height, grit his teeth as the anger welled deep inside. "How is that possible?! Next to the saurians, it was one of the strongest armies in the land! What of the human settlements? Tritan? Nayrul?" It was difficult to fathom that the Avians were driven back to one settlement. Arrecation was strong, but to wipe out all seven cities? Those gilded wings unfurled as the woman took to inspection, a mechanical and involuntary reaction to his management of the information he had received. Uriphiel put his gaze upon the sky, muttering under his breath about the betrayal by the Gods. How many years had truly passed? "Fine. If it is what you wish. Do not linger." he replied to the woman's question. "What is your name, healer? What is it that the locals call you?" If Raphaline where to inspect the residual magic from the protective barrier, it would be determined that it was of a celestial and holy nature; Although, the source would not come from Uriphiel himself. Though, if she were able to detect inherent magical capability, she would quite likely detect that the man was a capable and well seasoned hybrid caster.
  
  
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  Raphaline first moves closer to him so she can better inspect his wings and body. She circles him, slowly as not to alarm him, and takes notice of both the essence of the magic wrapped around him as well as the latent magic within him as well. She chooses not to bring it up, instead she offers her name in response first. “Raphaline,” she says in a matter-of-fact tone. She stops her circling right before him, tipping her head back so she can look him the eye; avians, so dang tall. “None of those cities you mentioned are still around, but I am close friends with an avian who works in the remaining Avian city. Her name is Brennia, she is tall like you and dark haired and winged. If anyone has any clue about what you are searching for, she will be able to help.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she cocks her head to the side as she considers a few thoughts before speaking again. “I think it best you clean up and probably get a good night’s rest before you set out to Xalious. In your state, you are likely to scare the populous between here and the village.” Turning to the side, she gestures up towards the ridge of the crater and silently beckons him to follow if he likes before she climbs back up, dusts a bit of dirt from her clothes and gathers up both violin case and satchel. “I am heading to Larket, if you would like to join me.”
  
  
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  Uriphiel repeated her name with that bitter, cold tongue. "Very well, Raphaline. I am Uriphiel-Shar, First battalion, Bardriel." The title was a thing of pride for the Avian, that is, until now. "Perhaps... that should now be former Shar." The large gilded wings folded inward as he watched the elven woman scale the crater wall to collect her belongings. He hesitated, still unsure as to his next course of action. She was right. He would need a place to rest. Somewhere to fully comprehend what had happened. He knew time had passed in that void. That abysmal empty void where he had wished for death on so many occasions. Yet he did not understand just how much time had come and gone. "I would be in your debt, truly, if you would introduce me to this woman. This avian, Brennia. I have no coin in which to pay for your time, but when I am able, I will reimburse you at once." With no place to rest the hilt in his possession, Uriphiel's ascent is a bit more on the tricky side, legs not quite up to task. This is the first in a long time they had been finally put to use. He managed with a bit of a struggle to reach the precipice, where he took note of the instrument case she carried. "A minstrel? Or is it something for sale?" he asked, waiting for her to take the lead.
  
  
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  Raphaline wouldn’t let the man struggle up the side of the crater, so she offers her free hand to him to take. Once he has his footing, she turns to him, both hands clasped on the handle of her instrument case. “It is nice to meet you Uriphiel. I am not familiar with the titles given to avians, but I have heard they are quite important. With only a few of you around, information about avian culture is kind of far and few between. But I will be happy to introduce you to Brennia. She is the sweetest of people, and very near and dear to me as a friend; she will help you find your footing once more.” Smiling, she shakes her head as she adds, “But as for the reimbursement, just count my helping as a future favor. You never know, our roles might be reversed someday and I will be in need of help too. You may pay me back then, aye?” And with that, she turns towards the northern route through the forest and motions for her to follow. If he sticks close to her, she continues to talk in order to fill the quietness that has settled over the forest. “I am a minstrel of sorts? I don’t have an official position anywhere, but I have played in many of the taverns in Lithrydel. I prefer to think of myself as a wandering bard, learning as many songs and stories as possible.” She gives him a sidelong look as she asks, “Do you enjoy music? I know a few warriors who are so serious about their sword fighting that music is considered a rather frivolous endeavor.”
  
  
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  Uriphiel remain stone faced, even in the light hearted nature of the woman's words. He was cold and callous outwardly, an inherent trait of his stern upbringing. To hear of another of his kind be called the 'sweetest of people', and to be a dear friend of one who walks the land as an elf, it was difficult to comprehend. Was it that the bloodline had softened over the millenia? Or was she a strange outlier? "I find that quite reasonable. Very well." he stated, addressing her terms of repayment. While they tread the well worn path, golden eyes flicker against the landscape, trying to determine anything of familiarity. He knew of sage quite well, although it was hard to say how long he had been gone and he had no idea how much could truly change. It was much more industrialized in this time, with so much progress made by man. "I see." he said, snapping his attention back to his chaperon. "It is a noble endeavor. To travel and provide others with something positive. I suppose that the exchange, entertainment for knowledge, is a reward in its own way." The avian glances down at the hilt he carried, thinking over his own life choices. Raphaline's pursuit was one that wasn't exactly unpleasant. Although, it was uncertain if he could ever give up the way of the blade for something so artistic. "I do." he replied. "While I did not often have time to participate in the audience, there is something about the assembly of notes in so many different ways, with so many tools that is admirable. It is beautiful." Not far ahead, he could see the gentle light of lanterns that signalled the beginning of the town known to the people as Larket. "This town we travel to. Larket? Do you live here? Or is this just a visit? A place to play your music?"
  
  
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  Raphaline nods along to his own responses, keeping an eye on the road and any who might come and go. As for the comment about her noble choice of career, the half-elf laughs a melodic, silver-belled laugh. “I wouldn’t claim my intentions were so noble Uriphiel. I do like when people enjoy my music, but it is more than that. Performing for me is like breathing for anyone else; if I couldn’t do it, I wouldn’t know how to live anymore. There is something so beautiful about allowing the music to take over and consume you while you perform,” she says, her tone full of fervor and love for her art. “I don’t just play the violin, I also sing and dance too. I let the muses take hold and just lead me down the road and command me thusly.” When he mentions an appreciation of music when he had been among his own flock, she perks up with real interest. Even though her friend has gifted her plenty of songs in the past, none were ever keenly avian in their essence; too the bard this is a perfect time to learn. “What kind of music was your favorite to listen to? Any performance that really struck you?” She asks, as she spots the bridge to Larket in the distance. Grinning, she takes them across and heads to left where the Red Ogre Inn lives. “I am merely visiting. I hoped to play for a bit, see a few friends and then possibly head back to my own home in the Xalious mountains. I live in the northern region from Schezerade.”
  
  
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  Uriphiel listens to the way that Raphaline speaks, the passion she has for her craft. There is a glimmer in his eye, a fleck of mirth, something that is gone in an instant. He knew this feeling deep down. To be so entranced that nothing else in heaven and earth ever mattered. He thought long and hard to his rise in the Battalion. His gifted Knighthood. He recalled the first day he walked among the masses, praised and blessed upon for his services. A selfless martyr in the name of the people. There were those that hated him and his band, surely. Yet those were the same sort that wound up often meeting their fate by the end of the Knight's blade. "I can understand such passion." he stated. The blonde man lifted his head as they crossed the bridge, setting his sights on the town of Larket. It was larger than he had expected, but there was something quaint about it. He would make a note to explore at a later time. "Well. There was a bardic woman from my city. A beautiful maiden with gentle auburn hair that radiated under the right light. She had the voice of the heavensent. She would oft sing for the soldiers. Songs of war and battle. She had this way of truly invigorating the troops. When she sang, you felt pride. You felt strength." He pauses, a hint of sorrow washing over his features. "I can only wonder what had happened to her. I hope that she was able to flee. That she wound up somewhere safe." As the pair made their way into the Red Ogre Inn, Uriphiel took stock of the establishment and the sorts that would populate the innards. "Xalious Mountains is a work of art. Xalious himself was quite the craftsman. As were the mages that made home in a secluded village nearby. They built a grand tower once ~ Does it exist?" Raphaline would not be given time to answer. The avian stops in his tracks and begins to pale as he lifts a hand to clutch at the side of his head. The world spins violently, vision fading to black. “I..” is all the man could mutter before he collapsed into a state of unconsciousness.
  
  
  [Note: The end of this RP was tacked on as I lost access to the internet not long after this for a few months, so Raphaline and I could not finish properly.]