RP:The One That Flew The Coop

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 Summary: Fufilling a bounty request, Uriphiel meets a strange woman named Demeter; An avian from lands far, far away.

Date of Writing: March 5th, 2021. 










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The One That Flew The Coop


 Xalious Tree
Nestled at the edge the southern cliff is an enormous tree. It towers some three hundred feet into the air, stretching outward nearly as wide; the soft sapphire glow of its enchanted boughs filling the vicinity with a soothing aura of metamagical power. The leaves are a rich golden hue with each vein therein shining in brilliant silver contrast; each one having the striking resemblance to a large human hand. Each sun-kissed leaf seems to move of its own volition, slowly writhing and reaching in all different directions to get the best angle of the sun as the daylight passes, then to drink in any soft moonlight that shines down on the mountains. The bark is a rich charcoal black near the base, though taking on a deep brown hue as it extends upward into the canopy. The mighty Xalious Tree, which appeared when the Archmage Xalious died and ascended to assume the divine role as God of Magic, stands in majestic beauty as an eternal symbol of the mortal's ascension. As you look closer into the tree you see an inscription carved deep into the bark. There is nothing else here but a field of carefully kept grass and some of the late Archmage’s followers who have come to bask and worship in this sacred tree's presence. An old and faded note seems to have been posted on the tree's base.

To the west appears to be a merchant's shop. To the north is the town well.

A conclave of devout priests is here.



  • [Uriphiel] The sun is once more shining, bathing all in a warm embrace as they go about their daily routines in the quaint village of Xalious. Magii gather near the tower, speaking of scholarly, magical things, while children frolic and play in the nearby park. The smell of freshly baked bread permeates the air, filtering out of the well respected Destrier tavern. All in all, it was a lovely, quiet day. At least, it had been. The thundering sound of hooves enters from the east, breaking the quiet quite suddenly. Villagers and magii alike, all look on in panic as a large black steed with a hooded rider races along the pathway, with a small brigade of avian soldiers upon winged horses not far behind. In the lead of the brigade, upon a white, regally decorated pegasus, was a Knightly character in armor of alabaster, navy and gold. He was larger than the others, with shimmering golden wings that fit in well with his attire. The black rider maneuvers quickly, turning his steed to the south to try and make a break for the meadow. The avians followed suit. Whatever this man had done, they wanted him badly. The armored soldier in front, known to those in Xalious as Uriphiel-Shar from the city of Schezerade, began to maneuver himself until he was standing on the back of his horse, perfectly holding his balance to prevent an accidental fall. As they were coming up to the ancient Xalious Tree, Uriphiel suddenly leaped from the steed, calling out loudly “FIRMAMENTUM VELOCEM”! The orange colored gems affixed to the ankles of his armored boots immediately lit up with a brilliant light, and much like the day prior, a short burst of flame shot out of the heels. Extending his wings for stability, the Shar was propelled forward at a supernatural speed, finding himself landing atop the hooded rider and his horse. The sudden weight of the armored avian threw the horse off balance and it toppled to the left, tossing both its rider and the intruder. Uriphiel held fast to the man as they tumbled, quickly rolling his target over and mounting him to make sure he could not get away. “Theordore Benito, I hereby place you under arrest by the authority of the Cenril Sheriff's office.”


  • Demeter was walking around the Xalious area, having camped out in a tree the previous night. The Lamashtian was not wanting to stay at her room over at the Warrior’s Guild headquarters, she needed to fly to clear her mind and prep herself for the mission they were about to partake in. Demeter flew until she felt better, knowing the one they accepted the contract from was not honest, feeling like they were walking into a trap. When no one was around she would let her wings unfurl and stretch out, then gently tuck behind the lion pelt cloak that had been enchanted in illusion paired with mute. Hiding them from sight and muting the sound of feather rustling against the attire. Upon pale golden flesh tattoos spread about her whole body, filled with black outline in crimson due to the curse upon her bloodline. The ink marked her of high blood avian, a noble amongst the race back in Eldur. Large grey eyes scanned each area she moved along, always observant of the surroundings. Honey hue haired done in two braids along each side of her head, leaving a curling and waving mass reaching to her hips. Leather tunic adorned with lion teeth for buttons holding it together on the front, leather pants upon long legs, spike heeled boots adding two inches to the six-foot height making her a six foot two. Scar ran across her face, a crooked slight L-shaped nose upon the pyromancer warrior, left hand resting on the hilt of the sword at her hip. Hearing a thundering sound of hoofs striking the ground with force to have speed to make to their destination, grey eyes stared in the direction. Seeing a group of avians approaching, the grip on her sword gets tighter thinking they have found her to take her back to Eldur, she would not go without a fight. Seeing the flames made her think even more it was Elites from Eldur, minus the armor did not match for what the kingdom had. When he spoke, his accent was nothing like her own. The stranger worked for a sheriff office that is from this land, she was relieved. Watching the scene unfold not too far from where she was standing, pale pink lips held no emotion although her eyes are full of amusement. With her strong Icelandic accent, she spoke, doing her best to dumb it down for those that have hard time understanding her native tongue. “Good job.”


  • [Uriphiel] The man under Uriphiel’s weight struggled and pleaded, but he was no match for the large, armored mercenary. “Please, it was an accident! Self defense! I swear didn’t murder him,” Theodore proclaimed as he was yanked to his feet. Uriphiel could not be swayed. “Your innocence is not mine to say. I was hired to retrieve a bounty in which I very much intend to claim.” Again, Theo tried to make his case, “They’ll execute me! You can’t!” To which the Shar of Schezerade replied, “I must. An innocent man would not run.” With a swift nod of the helmet that resembled a screaming eagle, Uriphiel signalled one of his men to bind the culprit’s hands together. He turned then, in the direction of the onlooker that had uttered praise of the arrest. She was an avian, that much he could see. However, she was different. Quite unlike those that he had come to know from the city that flew high above the Xalious mountains. Was she like Brennia? An evolution of what remained of the elder cities of old? Bardriel had fallen into the ocean, eventually to become the Island, Vere. Could the other fallen cities have become something else? While her attire was strange, it was the way she spoke that caught his attention. “What an unusual accent. I have not seen you before. Are you a resident of Schezerade?”


  • Demeter's grip loosened on the sword, sensing she was not in danger nor was she the target. The man pleaded, begging almost to be let free. He was scared, but if he took a life then it was like an eye for an eye. Life for a life, something she understood very well. He had a point, if this male was innocent, he would not flee. Yet, Uriphiel was determined to collect the bounty. The mis-shaped nose wrinkled when he spoke of the avian city here, that she had heard of the avian there being snotty and acted better then the races that lived below the floating city. Brows pinched together, “No, far from here. Two years’ worth of travel to get here.” Demeter figured either he had keen sight to see past the enchantment of the cloak or being an avian he knew avian tattoos as others of the race could tell the ink. Even with different parts of the world, it seemed avian’s had similar traditions of inking their own. “Are you a native?”


  • Uriphiel lifted his helmet, revealing a diamond-shaped face with cold, golden eyes. His flaxen hair had fallen out of place, although it was mostly slicked back and covered in a layer of sweat due to the chase that had gone on for some time. A loud popping noise that sounded like glass echoed in the mountainous range when the gemstones, one upon either side of his boots, finally exploded into a fine dust as their energy was expended. Paying it no mind, he kept his focus on the woman with the familiar ink, trying to discern if the pattern held any familiarity at all. The ancient races all shared an inherent tradition for intricate tattoos, with each society having their own flourish. Despite having visited the ancient cities of the past, Uriphiel could not place the tribal markings completely. “To Schezerade? No. My city has long ago fallen, in much the same way as those of Lithrydel’s history. I am, I suppose, a refugee.” The Shar is interrupted by a much younger avian who barely looked like he was into manhood, with chestnut brown wings and hair. “Sir? Shall we ride to Cenril?” Uriphiel turned briefly to respond. “You may make the delivery in my stead, Quinnelan. Take the brigade with you. If there are any problems, assure the Sheriff that I will be along shortly.” Quinnelan nodded, “Yes sir.” The band of avians loaded their captive onto one of the winged horses, riding off to collect their bounty. “Two years of travel? That is quite a distance. What brings you so far from your home?” The astute knight soon looked upon Demeter much more closely, realizing that her wings were not in view. “And pray tell, what happened to your wings? Were you injured in battle? Is that why you walk among the land dwellers?” Perhaps he was mistaken. Maybe she was just a land dweller with a strange familiar tattoo pattern.


  • Demeter's grey eyes watched as he removed his helmet, noting his hair was in a manner of helmet hair. Given he most likely had worn that helmet for a long time, hence the sweat. Her grip tightened on the sword when she heard the pop, not sure if that was a spell getting cast or an attack coming upon them. Only to see the magic from his boots had left, her hand would not remove from the sword. He wasn’t a native, which meant he possibly wouldn’t be a snotty winged elf. She was familiar with Shar’s, her father was a Khar in the Elite Guard over the Edlur’s King. “A refugee that has made some good rank here.” Brow arched when he sent his group back without him, “I wasn’t welcome there anymore, our Khar Tzur did not report a full truth to the King. Hid a secret that changed him. He, my father is dead now. His dishonor past to me.” That was all she would say about it. For her wings, she moved to cloak enough to reveal the charcoal wings that did not match her hair. “They are here and fine. Rather look like me then be able to be identified as myself. Demeter Viviane Alabaster, the Lamashtian. I am not a normal avian, a necromancer cursed the bloodline which caused us to be called Lamashtians. Not the normal run of Avian now.” Tilting her head, “Why you here?” Meaning in these lands not, in Xalious she saw why.


  • Uriphiel was not oblivious. He could see that Demeter was somewhat on edge with her hand grasping the hilt of her weapon, and the hint of suspicion in her tone. Was she being hunted? A criminal on the run? Perhaps she simply disliked keepers of law. He hadn’t recalled any avians having a bounty on their heads - That is, outside of the elusive cult that had once infiltrated Schezerade. “King?” Uriphiel asked, perplexed. This was certainly strange. Even in his time, when the seven known cities dominated the skies, the monarchy had been long abandoned in favour of a more democratic senate. Still, this is the second time he had heard of a society of Avians having a king since his return. When Demeter introduced herself fully, Uriphiel slapped a closed fist against his chestplate; An ancient and familiar custom of the ancient avian societies. A salute of sorts. “I have not heard of a Lamashtian, before. May I ask, what sort of curse was cast upon your bloodline? In any regard, It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Uriphiel Phandarion, Shar of Scherezade’s twenty-first battalion.” The question asked was met with a moment of silence, the knight taking time to contemplate his answer. In truth, he did not know why he was here, in this time. He should have been lost to all eternity. Yet, for some reason, the Gods, if they even had a hand in his fate, deemed it necessary that he be released from his abyssal prison. “I am uncertain. This land was once home, long ago. I have merely returned, albeit to a world that has moved on without me. My purpose, my reason, is to bring prosperity to the fallen Avian race. To give strength to the Empire.”


  • Demeter nods, “Yes, King. Kingdoms split by element of magic, Fire Kingdom, Water Kingdom you get the idea hopefully. Tzur warriors, except the fire kingdom was known for our militia we were the strongest warrior. Warrior nation I believe one would call it here.” She looked surprised when he did such act, she did this in sorts of a bow before departing. “We have to ingest a specific liquid to stay us.” Pause. “If do not feather wilt, rot off become weak and sickly like a human. Basically, become a human, age like one and die like one. My bloodline accepted the fate, instead accepting the curse as part of them.” Offering her hand, if accepted she would grip his forearm instead the normal handshake. “Did you have a family or someone you wanted for family before you left before?” She listened to his proud path he had set forth, “I know nothing of these avains. Just only met Brennia briefly, Thamalys as well enjoyed a drink with him and a show of Tzur between us.” None the less, “Pleasure to meet you as well, you don’t seem to be stuck up like I warned about the other Avians here, it is a relief I must say.”


  • [Uriphiel] The more information that spilled forth from the concealed avian’s lips, the more Uriphiel became intrigued. Entire kingdoms sorted by magic? It was hard to imagine such an idea. The avian races outside of Lithrydel’s borders were quite clearly unlike anything that the knight had ever heard of. “How cruel,” he stated, upon receiving an explanation of Demeter’s blood curse. He could not fathom a curse that would turn an avian into a human. A race that, in his time, were little better than barbarians. Simple hairless monkeys that accomplished nothing but war. They had, once, tried to create a floating city to rival the Avians, but that was quickly, and rightfully, felled. He reached out for her offered hand to be courteous, surprised by the new form of handshake that she performed. She was most definitely not from Lithrydel. “Truthfully, they are not so bad,” Uriphiel said, addressing her comment about the locals of Schezerade. “It is mostly those that come from a wealthy lineage. The youth, they are the ones that are bringing change to the city. In fact, we are holding an election toward the end of the year. To replace and fill the senate with new, able bodies that want the best for Schezerade. I am working hard to change those archaic ways, to bring the city into a more favourable light. You should visit sometime. There will be rallies, festivals, and perhaps other fun events sometime soon. In fact, there was a fundraiser last evening for one of the candidates - One whom you've met - Brennia.”


  • Demeter shrugged to his comment being cruel, if he knew why Larue did what she did who could blame her? A lifetime revenge was what Larue had achieved, the person that killed her husband and children was dead. Her father was dead to her the day he told her what happened, no matter what children should never die. Her kingdoms were barbaric compared to what she had learned of the locals. Demeter came from nobles, royals. One would had never imagined with how she carried herself, behaved she was of such lineage, everything was different. The long pointed ears twitched at his words she should visit, “There is nothing there for me, other then possible Eldur’s Elites looking to bring me back to the King. I doubt they would expect me to look like an elf on the land.” Or so she hoped, but her wings weren’t in hiding just for that. They were weapons, with hidden razor blades between the feathers for any unlucky fool that wanted to touch the smooth feathers. Brennia was a candidate? The female she met with a broken wing? Back home one with a broken wing was to be challenged in battle again to see if they were worth the lineage of their blood. Constantly having to remind her, where she came from is a war nation here things were more peaceful. “Brennia seemed nice for the brief moment I met her.”


  • Uriphiel makes a clicking sound with this mouth and without hesitation, his white pegasus came trotting along to stand at his side. “Indeed. If it weren’t for her help, I don’t know where I would be, today. I owe that woman all that I have left.” The knight slips on his helmet, and mounts the winged horse with a quick leap. “If you ever change your mind, seek me out at the military barracks. I can assure you, as a guest of mine, you will have safety in the city of Schezerade should these agents of Eldur come looking. Perhaps you will find something worth fighting for.” Pulling the reins, Uriphiel turned his steed around to face the direction of the meadow. “May the Divine Three watch you on your travels. Stay safe, miss Alabaster.” Uriphiel kicked his heel and he galloped off, using the large open piece of land to act as a runway so that the white pegasus could take to the skies. He had a bounty to collect.

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