RP:Vashja Meets Ysmir
Location: Frostmaw Tavern
- Vashja is a Sea Serpent Naga and a Novice Spaciomancer. She is wearing Ebon-Coral-Plated Corset on your body, Ebon-Coral Spiked Tiara on her head, Neurotoxic Hydrophiinae Fangs on her face, sea-shell necklace on her neck, silver armlet on her left arm, Dark-Blue Sleeve on her right arm, Seashell Bracelet on her left wrist, Hydrophiinae Banded Tail on her legs, and Neurotoxic Bladed Tail-Ring on her feet. On one of her right fingers, you see coral ring. She is using Dual-Blade Elemental Glaive as a weapon. She is not using a shield. She has blue eyes, lightly tanned skin, and untamed cerulean hair, and is single.
- Ysmir is a Silver Dragon and seems to be a Valkyrie. Ysmir is wearing mithril breastplate on her body, Black full-face Helmet on her head, mithril vizard on her face, Symbol of Chekari on her left ear, Symbol of Chekari on her right ear, scale cloak on her neck, Mantle of Chaos on her shoulders, Black armoured sleeve on her left arm, Black armoured sleeve on her right arm, empowered gauntlets on her hands, mithril cuff on her left wrist, mithril cuff on her right wrist, mithril shinguards on her legs, and knightly footwear on her feet. On one of her left fingers, you see mithril band. On one of her right fingers, you see Preklek Special-forces ring. Ysmir is using blessed sword as a weapon. Ysmir is using mithril defender as a shield. Ysmir has grey eyes, pale skin, and white hair, and is single.
Vashja is sitting at the bar, drinking some dark amber liquid in a short glass. Her long blue and black banded tail is coilded beneath her stool so that no one trips over it. She sighs, having hoped to have met the ice queen, she is dissapointed that the mage is no where in sight.
Ysmir jogged into the tavern, her eyes wide with adrenaline, she had run here from her training once the veteran instructor put her off to break. In the mornings, she healed and tended the sick and wounded among the elves, in the afternoons, she trained. She was getting better, slowly, but surely, still favoring her shield. Her platinum, straight hair bounced behind her, and her vertically slit steel grey eyes, set in the creamy, too perfect milk complexion were the most obvious signs of her dragonic nature, something she hadn't quite been able to fix. She wore mostly cloth and mithril armor, in a glorious mesh of silver and dark blues, which stood out like a sore in the open white of frostmaw. She ordered a stew, and sat down, trying not to openly stare at Vashja's serpentine tail. She had heard of a powerful serpent people, supposedly created as a perfect race, a mesh of dragons and... humans? Dwarves? Probably humans, if they sought perfection. The humans were an infinite tapestry of intrigue and she was made giddy just thinking about all the different peoples she had met. She ate in peace, trying not to draw the naga's attention while she watched her, and wolfed down the stew.
Vashja notices the woman watching her. Grinning to herself, her tail slides over behind Ysmir and taps her on the shoulder, quickly returning to its place under the naga. She continues drinking her rum as if she hadn't just done anything. If her business wasn't going to be accomplished here today, she may as well have some fun!
Ysmir , while gulping down her stew, didn't notice the tail snaking over, but was still anxious because she was spying on the naga. So, when the tail touched her shoulder, and she did not expect it, she jumped halfway out of her chair, yelped, got scalding hot stew all over her, yelped again, and writhed on the ground trying to pat down her soaked and burning shirt and mail, and eventually settled for ripping it off. A bit desperate, perhaps, but silver's weren't known for there tolerance of things that burned. Barechested, red all over, in some part because of the burning stew, and embarrassed as could be, Ysmir covered herself on the floor with her shield, panting and staring fixedly at the ceiling, hoping the Naga wouldn't notice she had been watching her. She simply had the very worst luck. Her jumpiness was unbecoming of a warrior.
Vashja burst out in uncontrollable laughter when the woman jumped, but after it became apparent that she was in pain, Vashja decided she should go to her aid. Slithering over to the burnt woman she asked, "Looks like you've burt yourself." Still holding back a chuckle, she moved so that her torso was next to the young lady and made to remove the shield. "Let me heal you." While the situation was extrememly funny to her, she did feel a bit guilty for Ysmir's predicament.
Ysmir at first tried to hold onto the shield, her knuckles white with her grip on it, out of embarrassment and anxiety both. She still stared fixedly at the ceiling, ignoring the pain and the woman both with her eyes, though she did relax her grip and let the naga take the shield, more because of her naturally submissive and amiable personality than anything else. The cloth and mail were horrid for getting a hot stew on... the cloth held the liquid close, while the mithril conducted the heat. An extremely effective way to hurt her, even with just a bowl of stew. Her normally milky skin was red and blistered, across her chest and abdomen. She shivered, not from cold, which she did not even feel... but from anxiety. This must be what it's like when someone sees you naked as a human she thought, flush with embarrassment. She didn't know how human's had survived so long, if just getting naked for copulation was this excruciating. Another remarkable achievement of humanity. She wondered in the back of her mind what sort of healing prowess the naga might possess. The long, sinuous tail taking up much of her peripheral vision even as she fixated on the ceiling above.
Vashja raised a confused eyebrow at the woman’s shyness and moved her tail so that Ysmir’s body wouldn’t be seen by the others in the bar. Normally she wouldn’t bother with such a nervous creature, obviously weak of heart, but since it was her fault she felt obligated. Placing her light tan hands over the woman’s bright red burns she began to mumble a few words. The red glow from her hands was hardly even noticeable until Ysmir’s wounds began to heal, her skin returning to a milky white. While she worked, Vashja’s keen nose picked up a strange scent… perhaps it was the stew… no, this was familiar, she knew the smell but couldn’t place it. She shook her head, removing that line of thought as she moved her hand from the exposed part of the woman to her thighs. Despite still being covered there, she sensed that there would be some first-degree burning on the legs as well. “Stupid cloth.” She mumbled to herself, hating how it conducted hot liquids so well. As the woman stiffened under her touch she returned a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry I don’t need to undress you.” Vashja’s hands seemed to disappear through the leg armor. Her palms rested on the skin underneath and she started to chant again, a red glow appearing beneath the armor.
Ysmir stiffened under the naga's hands, but relaxed as the healing soothed away the burning pains. She was so embarrassed she was about ready to gather her things and walk out into the snows to be alone, even half naked. Her mithril and cloth lay torn, victims of her rampant tearing, with a strength no human should have. She had separated mithril links like paper. Once the naga slipped her hands down to heal her thighs, Ysmir's vertical slit eyes dilated in shock, feeling more than just healing as the soothing touch cured her of the scalding burns. She gasped aloud, and sat up to start scooting away, grabbing her things to leave with all due haste. This was an awkward encounter, and she had little composure left to her. She felt more comfortable out in the gentle snows... She gripped the blessed sword by her side, and stopped moving almost as abruptly as she had begun. The presence of the blade she knew a bit better how to use calmed her, gave her some measure of confidence in herself and her abilities. More than some, it quieted her entire demeanor, until with a true dragons pride, if not the usual imperious, haughty demeanor, she squared her gaze on the naga, headless now of her nudity. "I thank you, m'lady, for your efforts in healing me." She seemed a completely different person, a leader of men, rather than a cowardly, shy girl. She had seen centuries, and her experience rooted her to her newer mental state... she had the wisdom of time, and great intellect and strength, if only she would properly use it. "I am Ysmir, and am pleased to make your acquaintance." With a newfound sense of certainty and purpose, she made to pick up her belongings, doing well to cover up the fact that mithril links hung unchained while she held them to her chest with her shield. "I am sorely disappointed at my own foolish little display, but I must ask that you forgive me my too oft compounded incompetence's." Ysmir fixed her gaze with her own, her stoic stare turning into a gentle, yet firm smile. "Thank you."
Vashja returned to her usual way of ‘standing’ after healing the woman. Amazed at the change that had come over Ysmir she was almost speechless, until she caught a whiff of that strange scent again. Without the smell of burnt flesh to mask it, she recognized it right away and smiled. This wasn’t some foolish human, but a creature much like herself, yet in hiding for some reason. Not about to out the woman to a bar of people, she flashed her ‘fangy grin’ and acted as if she was oblivious to Ysmir’s true nature. “Pleasure to meet you Ysmir. I am High Priestess Vashja, but you may drop the title.” She ran her hand through her hair and gave the woman a nervous smile. “No need for thanks, it was sort of my fault for tapping you….” Eyeing the broken armor that Ysmir was desperately trying to hold together, Vashja reached into her bag and pulled out a silk shirt, holding it out to the woman.
Ysmir hadn't been sure Vashja had tapped her, but she had her suspicions after her more competent mind frame had taken over her. One very much for formality, Ysmir actually bowed to Vashja, gaining a few more lecherous looks from the other patrons that she now couldn't care less about. "I did not know I was addressing a High Priestess. I will simply call you Vashja, if that is your preference, but I know now your title, and pay my respects." Ysmir pulled on the proffered silk shirt, and it was a snug fit. She studiously ignored the fact that Vashja had been the one to tease her, knowing it was her own fault for such cowardice. "I thank you again, Vashja. I am in your debt. I should soon return to the elven encampment, I am needed today to help in tasks of recovery." Ysmir still burned with curiosity about Vashja's nature, but the more inquisitive, girlish side of her was subdued in her warrior's senses take over. Still, the curiosity of the human loving dragon knew no real bounds. "Tell me, if you do not mind, where are you from, and who are your people? I have heard scant legends of the race of naga, and have always found the very idea of them to be quite beatific. A mix of man and serpent... and here you show your form proudly, without fear of reprisal, despite great enmity toward your kind on the surface world... Or at least, I would think there would be such enmity, from tales told. Tales of war, of fear, great atrocities... I would like to know more of the inner workings of the naga culture... If you would ever care to indulge me."
Vashja beamed at being addressed so formerly, the last person she had met insisted on calling her ‘miss’. She shook her head, “You are not in my debt Ysmir.” To the woman’s request she would gladly oblige. Taking a seat at the bar, she gestured to the stool next to her. “Of other Naga cultures I know little, save that of the Alithryans, but I would gladly tell you all I know.” Vashja was excited at the potential of making a new friend, even if it was one of the races that comprised her own. Not quite as xenophobic as some naga, she had great respect for the older races of the world, provided they treated her as an equal (if not higher). “What would you have to drink dear?” She grinned, her fangs just showing above her bottom lip.
Ysmir responded, a little more amiable again, "Preferably anything chilled." A wry smile twisted the edge of her lip at the obvious joke, and she found Vashja's fanged smile to be quite pleasant, whereas she was sure most found it at the very least off-putting. The silk shirt felt good against her skin, though the delicate cloth and mithril had never been uncomfortable armor. "The Alithryan's? How many naga cultures are there?" Ysmir thought to herself that if she started spouting off random questions it would only serve to make the conversation aimless. "Tell me of your home. In all it's beauty and splendor, and of your people. Tell me of the priesthood that prays under you, and what god or goddess you worhsip."
Vashja laughed openly at the parade of questions. Addressing the bartender, “Two spiced rum, on the rocks.” She turned back to the other woman and began. “Well firstly I haven’t a clue how many cultures there are. I have only lived on my island and visited Alithrya. There are many legends as far as the origin of my species of naga, but we refer to ourselves as the Hyrophiinae. My home island is a bit southeast of the island Rynvale. It is a rather small island, but really a utopia, or as close to one as is possible. Beautiful sandy beaches, tropical trees, clear water, and all the eels you could eat. It is populated almost solely by my tribe but we allow mermaids to live there, as well as a few dragons. “ She eyed Ysmir knowingly and then continued. “ We also got the occasional merchant and traders of various races. A few were human but the majority of humans I’ve encountered were pirates, intent on invading or poachers who came for our leather as well as to enlave the mermaids. “ She grinned. “They weren’t stupid enough to try and enslave naga. They were all dealt with though and our island remains free to this day.” She smiled a bit reluctantly, remembering those difficult times. She sighed and continued. “As far as our worship, all naga traditionally praise our creator, Amaroth, god of war. Now my tribe is unique in that we also worship Selene, goddess of the sea. She has gifted the most devout among us with natural ability in the use of hydromancy… yet I seem to have trouble using it here.” She wrinkled her nose in a gesture of annoyance. “As far as the priesthood goes, we aren’t priests in the sense that many others are. We wield no holy magic. Instead the strongest Hydrophiinae mages are called upon to learn the basics of spatiomancy and carnomancy. These are both extremely difficult to master and most of us only ever manage to phase small pebbles and repair minor cuts. I was what you could call a ‘prodigy’.” Vashja smiled and took a sip of rum. “I believe that answered your questions. What else would you know?”
Ysmir winced at the mention of dragon's, and in her more tactful state of mind saw the nuances of her knowing. Though internally she railed against it, she was sure the naga knew she was dragonic, but fortunately, she seemed fine with keeping that bit of information to herself, for the now at least. The island paradise truly sounded lovely, and clashed with her concept that all naga dwelled beneath the sea, exclusively. She would have thought they would have much trouble being on land for extended periods of time. The idea of hydromancy and even the more outlandish arts of spatiomancy and cronomancy intrigued her, especially for such archaic studies to be the focus of a priestess of any sort. Ysmir followed no deity, and did not know from whence her light and celestial powers came, whether from some benign deitic benefactor, or, less probably, from herself, in a more innate, sorceress nature. However, the power she wielded was definitively holy in nature. That made it all the more confusing. Ysmir smiled, a disarming, charming smile that was all the more enhanced by her unrealistically beatific form. "I would love to visit your island, one day. I have a certain fondness for eel." Ysmir decided to detract the conversation, as intrigued as she was, she was shirking her duties by staying her. "I really have need to return to the elven camp, my aid is required." She took a sip of the spice rum, and found it strong, and oddly compelling. She downed it easily, enjoying the different sort of burn it left in her throat, and it's spiced aftertaste. "I would love to speak again... I find your culture absolutely fascinating, as you yourself are." More shameless flattery. "Perhaps another time, when you visit Frostmaw?"
Vashja , being a glutton for shameless flattery, beamed. “I would hate to take you from your duties! Perhaps next time we can also speak of these elves. I’m not exactly up-to-date with the goings on here.” She had only recently arrived, and had spent most of her time in the forests near Kelay and Larket, training further with her dual-bladed glaive. She smiled her friendliest smile. “Farewell Ysmir, it was a pleasure to meet you and I look foreward to our next discussion.”
Ysmir nods her head gratefully. "And a pleasure of mine as well, to be sure. Until we meet again, Vashja."
Posted/Edited By Vashja 19:43, 11 October 2011 (UTC)