#troupe1.roadsofar

[engineerzuleima]

who? open where? haven's wall when? the road so far plot drop

Haven’s Wall stands tall at the strigoi’s back as she eyes the distant shimmering dome with narrowed eyes. Anyone passing by will have noticed the thin layer of snow sitting at her shoulders, demonstrating that she has been standing in the same spot for hours at a time without moving and they would wonder why. The truth is simple: she had sent some of her conjurations to trail the borders of the magic dome to try and understand its circumference. Word had already spread about how the magic covered the entirety of Iskaldrik, and the more word spread, the more curious she became. Iskaldrik is in no way round, and yet the dome always seemed to be just that: a dome. The curiosity needed to be satisfied, and if she finds anything of help, the better. 

And so, she waits for the shadowy grims to return from their scouting, considering the magic before her thoughtfully. Zuleima has never come across anything like it on her long life, and part of her wants to know the mechanics and whether it can be replicated to protect Lysara. A bigger part of her, though, worries about the implications of unknown magic in the hands of the Aethereon empire. 

“You know I can hear you when you move, right?” She asks the watcher. “Don’t you have better things to do than to creep on a random strigoi?”

[engineerzuleima]

who? @sakkarathekeeper where? trivia’s cove when? during the  road so far

Zuleima touches down on Trivia’s Cove on Cloudy’s back, humming distractingly as she pats the wyvern’s snout affectionately before dismounting. Working through the different flaps on Cloudy’s mouth, she frees the bag she had secured back in Eterna and nods a goodbye to the wyvern before turning and heading deeper into the woods, her humming turning progressively louder as she approaches Sakkara’s above. Sneaking on the Dúnedain is amusing enough, but she has learned to only do so at odd intervals, or the famous Sakkara of the Serpents would begin to expect the attempts. 

That would be far too boring.

So humming to make herself known when she didn’t feel like sneaking on the other it was. 

Making it to the Keeper’s humble abode, Zuleima rattled her knuckles against the frame just hard enough to be heard but hard enough to bring the structure down. Though, with the rackety feel of the entire abode sometimes she wondered how long it would last. 

“Do we need to do the dance of you pretending not to be home, scales?” She muses out loud, head tilted as she listens for the Dúnedain’s heartbeat. “I can hear you.”

[blightedmikhael]

who? @ormir where? Haven when? During the weeks that the refugees were being monitored

It had only taken him a few days in Lysara for Mikhael to have the bright and startling realization that he had fucked up by getting to know the old man at the bonfire and after. The conversation had been a respite during the arduous journey, and he had enjoyed it enough to seek him out through the journey, but nothing had grown beyond a few amicable conversations. As fellow warriors, keeping the conversation going without delving too much into the despair surrounding them had been bolstering, so he had not made efforts to keep a distance from the Iskaran. Now that they were in Lysara and he had seen the human next to the Princess and who he assumed to be the Prince — and yes, Mikhael will be ignoring the fact that the Iskaran Prince is a Changeling until his dying days to avoid that specific brand of drama — greeting the Lysaran officials, he is regretting his choice. He already found himself drawn to Aytaç, he didn’t mean to involve himself any further with the same group that would have killed him if they had known of his status as a cambion. 

It’s hard to avoid someone when they are both stuck in the same area, though, so he isn’t surprised when he runs into the nobleman a few weeks after the realization of his possible status.

“This trip made for strange bedfellows, didn’t it?” He asks as he greets the man with a nod, having decided not to act too differently in hopes to avoid him from looking into him. “And yet, here I am, still not knowing your name. My apologies.”