#crelohi

[lasselantanariel]

Welcome dear reader, to the world of Crelohi.

My name is Lasselanta Nariel, I am a Chronicler for the illustrious Guild of Scribes. It is our job to chronicle all the events within our world’s history, be they the tales of kings and nations, or lives of the common people. Do not mistake us all for mere historians, however, many of us find ourselves patrons outside of the guild both to provide us with an income and to furnish us with information they might not otherwise have shared. After all, while all events are written not all are shared, and some may perhaps be told in a more generous light. We also make very efficient spies. Certain of my patrons have instructed me to follow the events surrounding the airship known as The Magpie, and her crew. A tale which I now share with you.

This is the story of how that crew met, and how that ship attained its name. Of how their varied lives became forever entwined as they stumbled upon a dangerous conspiracy so old it has shaped the very land upon which we stand. It takes place within the western half of the continent of Eshana. A region rife with ancient mysteries and new discoveries, of cutting edge technology and cutthroat mercenaries, of steam...and shadow.

Enjoy your stay, and please, do try not to get captured by pirates, run afoul of the River Lords, harass the Paswellan Navy, or invoke the ire of the Chapawee Nation. If you hear mention of the Circle of Crows know that you are dealing with Thieves Guild and watch your pockets, and if you should find a white owl feather amongst your things then know that the White Duke is watching you and you should be worried.

(All names on the map have been translated from our world to yours, with our Common tongue interpretation below translated into your world's English.)

                                                                 Sincerely,  Lasselanta Nariel.

[lasselantanariel]

Steam And Shadow Book One: “Birds Of A Feather” Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Matsunai, Nasimani Province.

(14, Fearn. Afternoon. )

Sunlight glistened off the Nakahi River, as it flowed through the bustling city. The market was alive with the noise of merchants and traders, smells of fish both raw and cooked wafted through the air, mingling with the exotic spices from the stall next to them, while fresh flowers and bright silks fought to catch the eye from across the way. Two traders were engaged in a shouting match in front of one of the smaller stalls, where a young girl in old, ill-fitting clothes was selling candles. The traders, in their finery, did not appear to care that they all but blocked her stall from view. She sighed unhappily as she watched them. The argument, which was reaching epic proportions, was temporarily interrupted as a short, muscular figure casually bumped into one of the traders, neatly divesting him of his coin purse even as he apologized. The argument resumed as he stepped away, palming the purse to the young girl with a wink as he passed. She beamed happily, knowing the heavy purse held far more than she was likely to earn that day, and watched her benefactor move away through the crowd, his bright silken sash weaving like a tail behind him.

Kaito loved the market. Loved its wonderful, and yet terrible cacophony of sounds and smells. Loved its mixture of humble sellers, and arrogant merchants, of fine imports, and common necessities, its colors and its crowdedness, the complete lack of any order to the items being sold there, the ever moving crush of people headed to different places- all in a hurry...the way no one ever kept a close enough eye on their coin. Not that he took indiscriminately. His family had a strict policy about that sort of thing. Only those who could afford to lose it...or who were paid up for the month. He snagged a skewer of smoked fish as he snaked through the crowd. He could do this all day. Unfortunately, he was here on other business this time; His mother had sent for him. Well, she'd actually sent for everyone, but Father and Takeshi were busy explaining the concept of "River Taxes" to some of the more enterprising merchants up river. So they'd sent him. He didn't mind, he enjoyed seeing the market and visiting his mother and little sister.

They moved between towns usually, while the rest of the family kept to the forests. This meant they could keep a better eye on what the council was up to. The council frequently fought and argued and generally made everything longer and more complicated than it needed to be-Politics at its finest. Thus the common people looked to the River Lords when they needed anything done. Kaito's father was one of the more prominent and well-liked of these, as he looked after the poorer districts, and offered them protection for free. Not that these so-called lords were any of them actually titled. River Pirates would have been a more accurate name, but Miku insisted Lords sounded better and since she was the one who wrote the ballads and tales of their exploits the name stuck.

Kaito smiled as strands of a familiar tune reached his ears, heading towards the sound. It didn't take him long to spot the street performers, his sister Michiko among them with her clarinet. She winked as she spotted him, glancing to her right. He followed the direction of her eyes through the small crowd to a petite woman in bright robes, with long black hair, and bright watchful eyes that mirrored his own.

"Hello darling, at least one of you responds when I call for you." Her voice was soft and faintly musical, though her tone was mildly exasperated.

"Your ever dutiful son, as always, mother." He kissed her on the cheek.

"My cheeky son more like." She brushed the floppy fringe of black hair aside and peered at his face "Oh good, you do still have eyes under there. I was beginning to think your hair had eaten them." She teased, smiling.

"My mother the comedian." He sighed theatrically but couldn't help returning her smile. "What's going on? Your message said it was urgent."

Miku's smile faded. "Come inside, it's about your grandparents." She led him through a wooden door, almost invisible behind the stalls, into a compact but tidy room. Stairs led up the left wall, and the rest of the room appeared to double as kitchen and living room combined. The wooden furniture was worn but well kept, with bright cushions. Books, scrolls, and instruments lined the shelves. He could smell leeks and rice cooking on the stove. And tea. Mother always had a kettle ready. She gestured for him to sit at the table and busied herself with said kettle. "Do you remember much about your grandmother's old maps?"

"Of course." He loved her map collection. She'd been a cartographer in her younger days, and a good one too, traveling and mapping out the rivers. She was quite proud of them and taught him a good bit of the trade. He knew most of those old maps by heart.

His mother fidgeted with her cup as she sat down. "According to their neighbors, your grandparents had a burglar a couple of months ago and your grandmother insisted they had tried to steal one of her maps. Whoever it was got away and nothing was missing so no one else thought anything of it but Akemi was distraught." She frowned. "His parents always seemed so quiet before, I often wondered how they had him." She murmured. ". Now I see the resemblance. Anyway, I was hoping your father would have some idea where they might have gone"

Kaito choked on his tea. "Gone? Gone where?"

"I don't know. Apparently, your grandmother started ranting about some grand conspiracy and saying people were after her maps. Then, a few nights ago she and your grandfather just disappeared. No fuss, no word of where they'd gone. Nothing. There's been no word from them since, and three nights ago their house was ransacked. I just received word yesterday."

Miku looked at him seriously. "I would prefer to send your father, but perhaps this is better. You know her maps better than anyone, Kaito. Maybe you'll see something in that mess to indicate where they might've gone?"

“I’ll do my best, mother.”

http://lasselantanariel.deviantart.com/gallery/62581434/Steam-and-Shadow

[lasselantanariel]

Jinghu in the Rain 

[lasselantanariel]

Steam And Shadow Book One: "Birds Of A Feather"

Chapter 1

Jinghu, Hurenaki Dynasty.

(14, Fearn. Evening.)

A sprawling lakeside city nestled amidst tall jagged mountains and lush forests, its ornate tiled roofs and colorful lanterns twinkled like jewels day or night. Although, in the shadier parts of town they were more like colored glass sparkling with a false brightness as it fought to prove itself. A bedraggled figure hurried down the docks through sheets of rain into an area known locally as the fox’s den, though crow’s nest would’ve been more apt, towards a somewhat shabby building with a green tiled roof with a sign proclaiming it The Grumpy Panda Inn, at  least, she assumed the sign was still there, she could barely see the wooden planks below her through the rain. She found her way largely by memory until she could hear the laughter and shouting that seemed to pervade all alehouses after a certain hour. Reaching the door, at last, she threw it open to reveal an interior that was not much better kept than the outside but was at least drier. It also smelled better. The lake was freshwater, but still large enough to be a fishing port for the sprawling town. The scents of magnolia, fir, and cherry drifted through the crisp air and through the town but were overpowered here on the docks by the pungent aroma of fish, and the musty scent of old wood. The inn, however, was a mixture of ale, worn leather, and an assortment of fruity cocktails. Warm orange lights glowed faintly above worn wood and brass tables, the chairs were upholstered in a once vibrant gold design, now faded too much to recognize any real pattern, and there was a faint patina on the brass fixtures. An old server droid hummed quietly as it moved between tables, serving drinks to patrons. The building was even more crowded than usual, as no one wanted to be outside in this weather. Takara snorted slightly. She hadn’t either, but business was business.

Her eyes finally lighted on their quarry at a table near the back of the building; a well-dressed man with a light sand complexion lounging in his chair with a careless grace. Kicking the door shut she squelched forward, her eyes narrowing as she made her way towards his table. He was reading a letter, his chestnut hair falling across the slight frown on his usually smiling face. He glanced up as she stopped beside his chair, slamming a wet pouch on the table before him with a thunk and a faintly metallic jingle.

"Tigers." She growled, glaring at him.

"Evening, Kara. You look lovely as always." He grinned. Sharp green eyes took in her soaked and lightly mud-spattered appearance, a spark of amusement lighting them suddenly. "Please, sit down." He waved towards the seat across from him and signaled to the server droid.

"Tigers Brannaghan! You couldn't warn me the Empress has two tigers running loose on the grounds?!" Takara threw back her hood and dropped into the chair across from him with a distinct flop.

Brannaghan chuckled. His voice warm and rich, with a deep velvety lilt. "A hot Buttered Rum for my friend please." He glanced at Takara again. "Better make it a double. Put it on my tab."

"Yes, sir." The server spoke in its metallic, vaguely female voice. It hummed as it rolled towards the bar.

"That better not be coming out of my pay Brann. You owe me."

"For not telling you that our beloved empress keeps unusual pets? She doesn't exactly make a secret of it."

"No one said the blasted things ran loose! Look what they did to my clothes!" She held out an arm to show long claw marks running down the right side of her deep blue cape. The fabric was worn and faded from wear, but the dull gold braid at the shoulders was clearly Paswellan naval military. Which she was clearly not. "And she's not my Empress. Or yours for that matter." She scowled and tried to wring out some of the water from her attire. It didn't have much effect, beyond adding to the puddle forming around her chair.

"Proper respect for the authorities lass. We wouldn't want anyone to think us ungrateful squatters, now would we?" He studied her appearance again. Her black hair was plastered wetly across her brow, revealing the long scar by her right eye. She was tired and soaked, making her tanned skin seem paler than usual. It reminded him a bit of when they met, though she'd been somewhat drier that day. He doubted so much as an inch of her remained dry now. She was also glaring at him, but this was normal. He had that effect on her. "What happened? Did you fall in the lake?" He asked.

"No, I jumped," She replied, her voice low, and carefully even. "because it was either jump or be mauled by tigers."

Brannaghan raised his eyebrows "You jumped off of the spire?"

"Yes, and nearly lost my boat in this stupid rain. I had to swim in this Bran!" She growled, trying not to shout as she lost her temper again.

The server returned with two steaming mugs of buttery smelling liquid, allowing Brannaghan a moment to process this, while Takara attempted to inhale her drink.

"So, to be clear; you got the jewels, were chased by tigers, and then you decided the best course of escape was to jump off of the Jade Spire and swim for it. In the rain. That's nearly 60 meters! Flare for the dramatic much Kara?"

"It's just water." She shrugged.

"Spoken just like a p-"

"Don't say it!" She interrupted, her soft voice tight.

"You can't escape your past entirely, lass.” He said gently, “I should know."

"I can try." She grumbled bitterly, returning to her drink.

Brannaghan glanced briefly at the letter folded in his hand, before slipping it inside one of the many hidden pockets of his vest. "I have another job for you when you've finished  complaining."

"You know I’m never finished complaining." She quipped, "What is it?"

"I need you to retrieve a...parcel for me. Off of an airship docked in Hagsfjori."

“You don’t ask for much.” She said sarcastically. "Hagsfjori? That's part of the Arstiegian Empire, isn't it?  You’ve never sent me that far north before." She paused, eyeing him over  her drink "I didn't think our guild branch covered anything above the Seguegande."

"They don't. The Circle isn't a part of this...it's personal." For the first time since Takara met him, Brannaghan seemed unsure, almost worried.

Takara set down her drink, studying his face carefully. She knew that look. She'd seen it in the mirror before, years ago. A memory of smoke and fire drifted through her mind before she resolutely banished it. "This is about your past."

"They've a nasty way of resurfacing, it seems." His tone was light, but his expression remained serious.

She watched him for a moment, unconsciously tapping her fingers on the side of her mug. "You still owe me my coin."

He smiled and produced a second pouch from the folds of his clothing, sliding it slowly across the table.

She put it away without counting its contents, her eyes still locked onto his face. She’d known Brannaghan for years, had run dozens of missions for him, always guild backed, always professional. He rarely asked for favors, and though he’d never call her on it, she owed him a considerable debt. A resigned feeling of acceptance came over her. She sighed, tossing back the rest of her drink. "Fine. But there had better not be any tigers this time."

Brannaghan grinned. “No tigers.”

Also on Deviant Art: http://lasselantanariel.deviantart.com/art/Birds-Of-A-Feather-Chapter-1-672636980