And with that, I have completed all the elite specialisation ascended weapons. This Wild Abandon torch is probably going to go to Kaylee when she gets to level 80, leaving Vyssinada free to become my new Spellbreaker, but for now this very Norn looking torch is on the thorny twiggy girl.
This forcing myself to write a little every day thing has been bearing fruit.
Links to what has gone before: the first two parts are here, with an additional scene from the same night here.
“I don’t know what to do.”
High above the festivities, the Terraces split into individual branches and woody pods to form living and working quarters for those who needed time away from the gatherings below. Simply furnished, the pod Vyssinada now slumped in was plain and almost austere, with only a small hammock, a desk, and two chairs - only one of which was occupied by the wilting cherry-red armoured soldier.
At the side of the gently curving room stood another armoured figure, his head tilted slightly as he listened. He was tall but slight, a young tree growing ramrod straight, but his carved, leafy face was calm, and his black eyes kind. The sparse purple leaves on his stump-like head rustled slightly when he shifted stance in order to clasp his hands and crouch before her.
“What are you wanting to accomplish?” he asked, and the thick red foliage of the seated woman flopped despondently.
“I don’t know anymore.” She sighed. “I want to be their friend, not their commanding officer. I can’t stay apart like you do.” She looked up, her thorns glimmering in the faint red light she gave off. “How do you do that?”
“I…” He shrugged. “I’m a believer, and I remind myself that my Wyld Hunt is to serve and protect, no matter how lonely that might seem at times.”
“That’s another thing I don’t understand. A believer in what? You’re not just talking about Ventari’s teachings, are you?”
He paused, his dark eyes so wide that Vyss fancied for a moment that they were pools in which she could swim.
“I… it’s hard to put into words.” He glanced up, at a point over her shoulder and apparently very far away. “It’s not like the Humans and their Gods, or even the Charr and their faith in their engineering. It’s more like I know we’re supposed to be here, and deserve the best protection we can get. And that’s up to me. I have to do something.”
“Act with wisdom, but act.” she agreed, quoting Ventari’s Tablet cradled high above them in the Pale Tree’s branches. But her face still fell into her hands, fingers only twitching away when they touched her thorns. “I wish I was as committed as you.”
“You know, there’s no one way to command. Just because I prefer to stand apart doesn’t mean you have to do the same. You’re a soldier, like them. And you’re not me.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Use your strengths, not mine.”
“But Vertoc, what are my strengths?”
He considered.
“You go out drinking with them. You laugh and joke around, and you’re friendly. I’m…” The bark wrinkled around his nose as he shook his head. “That’s not me.”
“But you’re nice! I don’t see the difference.”
“You don’t?” Slowly he stood, his armour creaking like the wind in the high boughs of the forest. Again he became the tree, straight and tall and slender, standing against any storm. “Then I really don’t know what else to say. Just think about what I’ve said.”
“If I had my preference I wouldn’t be telling them what to do at all.”
From below the echos of the party wafted up to them, laughter and music filling the space between them.
“Telling, or ordering people to do things is not nice. If that isn’t you, then you need to find a way to use that niceness to help them. They want to be Wardens, just like you do.”
“I could try rewarding them, I suppose, when they do something right?” Dubiously she looked up, seeking confirmation as she peered through her fingers.
He nodded.
“Take them out from the Grove and get them used to working together, perhaps.” Then he sighed. “I don’t think I can help you too much more. I’ve never really commanded a squad like that, so it hasn’t come up. Have you talked to Niamh?”
“I didn’t want to bother her.” Lithe and usually graceful, Vyssinada flowed to her feet, the clink of her armour audible under her ornate red leaves. Then she stumbled both in word and stance as she flung out her hands as a certain realisation crept into her admittedly slowed thoughts. “Not that I meant to bother you either…”
He laughed.
“I’m not bothered. In fact I’m flattered you thought of asking me. Thank you.” He bowed, a soft smile softening his features, and just like that, the interview was over.
The soldier wasn’t sure if she should salute or wave, so after finding a feeble gesture somewhere between the two, she only slightly wobbled as she stepped back out into the open air.
Behind her, Vertoc watched her go with dark, wide eyes, raising his hand in a wave of farewell even though he was certain she couldn’t see it. A soft sigh and he turned back towards his desk, sorting through the papers on it as he felt the weight of his Hunt upon him once more.
If I had known the Carapace armour set looked so good on (Sylvari?) women, I would have put Vyss in it long ago (figure 1). It’s just been clogging up Vertoc’s inventory. Just compare it to what she was in previously (figure 2) - so much improvement!
She’s wearing the Leystone chestpiece, but I’m kind of tempted to transmute it into the Carapace chest, and needs the Carapace boots, but the Warden boots work well with this for now.
Well, for what it’s worth, here it is. I think that I’m tired of going over and over it, so now it’s time to back away, release it to the world, and come back later and edit it all over again.
One day there may be a part 2. It’s just a character study, after all.
No warnings, unless you have trouble with a couple of guys being cuddly.
It was a warm night in the Grove, and beneath the embracing branches of the Mother Tree the Sylvari were making the most of it. The ways were lit by firefly lamps and by the citizenry themselves, luminescence spilling from the foliage of both mother and children alike, and in a myriad of colours they celebrated the simple fact of life.
In the Dreamer’s Terrace, the gathering was still in full swing. There was a joy and an innocence about the young plant people as they moved amongst themselves, and gentle music filled the air for any who were inclined to dance.
On this night, a pale blue Sylvari, her form swathed in pink petals that flowed even as they conformed to the human notion of a gown, was thoughtful as she sat herself next to one of the musicians. With a gentle smile only partially obscured by the mushroom-like frill that comprised her hair, she listened, swaying slightly as the melody soared around them.
Three pieces later and the flute was set aside, its player frowning a little in polite confusion.
“Hello, Toloma.” His white bark glowed as he lowered his eyes. “You don't feel like dancing tonight?”
“Not really. I was happy just to listen.” Leaning forward she placed a hand on his leg. “But why is your music so sad lately?”
Startled he blinked, reaching toward the flute in a flurry of apology. “Oh, I'm so sorry! Would you like to hear Around Don Delly, or maybe The Norn and the Charr?”
“No, no!” She laughed, patting his knee. “It's ok. I was just wondering if you were alright, because you haven't seemed like yourself lately. That's all.”
“Oh.” For a time that was the only reply as he bowed his head, his branches rustling faintly as he regarded his hands.
“Is something wrong, Pyrif?” Now she was concerned, and Toloma scooted in a little closer as she tried to catch a glimpse of his face.
“No… not really.” A slight shrug set his branches aquiver as he glanced up, then away from her intent eyes. “I'm a bit embarrassed that it's showing in my musical choices.”
“What is it?” A sigh, and she couldn't help but notice his look of longing across the clearing. Two figures sat there all but intertwined, laughing and chattering with the gathering, but never quite moving out of each other's range. Blue leaves and grey twigs mingled where heads touched in easy familiarity, and love and contentment radiated from their corner of the world.
Toloma blinked.
“No!” she gasped, glancing from the pair back to Pyrif - who immediately began to glow in embarrassment as he realised where her reasoning had taken her.
“No!” he agreed. “I mean, not them, exactly. Gerain and Nikyri have been my friends since we were sprouts. It would be strange.”
“Then what?” Shuffling in a little closer still, she put a hand on his shoulder in comfort.
“It's…” Another sigh, before he ruefully chuckled. “It's hard to explain.” His inhalation of breath indicated he was willing to try despite the difficulty.
“Sometimes I feel like the Dream isn't enough.” he began, his gaze steady now as he regarded her, hoping she would understand beyond the nigh on blasphemy the words might indicate. “Or I wish I had someone special to share it with, like them.”
“But they shared their Dream before they emerged from their pods.” Toloma said dubiously, leaning back a little so she could study the whole picture.
“I know, and they're so lucky! They were born knowing who they loved. But me…?” He hummed sadly, shaking his head. “It's so confusing.”
“So you play sad songs and hide away in your corner while you try to work it out.” Satisfied with this thought, she settled back on her haunches, her hands resting in her lap. “Py, I don't think that’ll solve anything!”
“It makes me feel better.” His gaze turned back towards the flute lying in the nearby grass, and Toloma huffed and stood with the grace of a fern unfurling.
“Come on, let’s dance.”
Slowly he reached out to take her demanding hand, but chuckled, “I thought you didn't feel like dancing?” as he was pulled to his feet.
“Well, now I do!”
“Now there’s something you don't see every day.” The nectar had been flowing freely amongst the small group on the balcony, so some of the glowing eyes peering down to the floor below were a little unfocused. With a hiccuped chuckle to acknowledge her sudden attention, the short leaved woman continued, “Didn't know Duskers could dance at all.”
“I didn't know you could see them through that blindfold,” one of her companions snorted, a smirk twisting her sharp features.
“I can hear them! Can't you? So…” Words failed her for a moment and she gestured wildly. “...I don't know! Measured!”
“Toloma always dances.” Another companion, her pink face accented with thorns, rolled her eyes towards the ceiling and shifted in her seat. The faint clink of metal beneath her red leaves punctuated the words as she peered over the side without enthusiasm. “Nice to see Pyrif having fun for once. Now.” She raised her voice slightly, signifying a change of topic. “Who was coming with me to the practice field tomorrow?”
“I will!” The blindfolded woman turned (completely unnecessarily, if she was to be believed) away from the siding, her full and glaring attention now on the woman in red. “Thorns, Vyss, I'll go now if you're itching for a fight!” The smile was genuine, if a little reptilian across that wide mouthed visage. “I can take you on!”
“Tell me again why I hang around with Noons.” The smirker sighed, her voice laced with amusement even as the final one of the company - one who until now had been tinkering with some gadget or another - butted against her with a thin shoulder.
“Because we’re so much fun!”
“That has to be it,” came the sardonic agreement, but she grinned as she returned the shoulder buffet in kind. “What are you doing there, Rani?”
“Ranuncla.” The correction was almost automatic now. Huge dark eyes were magnified to an almost absurd degree by the lens apparatus perched on a near nonexistent nose as the small yellow flower looked up. “It's nothing much, just a watchwork piece I picked up in Divinity’s Reach. I thought I could develop it into a timer for watering a garden, so the farmers don't have to work so hard. The Humans in Queensdale have these huge watering towers in their fields, and…”
“...she’s off,” murmured the one identified as Vyss. “Apacea, why?”
“Better than watching you and Teudila slicing each other up on the practice field, isn't it?” The smirker whispered even as the buttercup girl continued blithely on.
“... perhaps there might be a wider application for such a thing here! So I…”
“I'm not really sure of that.” Vyss gingerly fingered the thorns along her nose to hide the words from the now utterly energised tinker.
“...with a wrench and a bit of time, I think it might be possible to even set something similar up near the Mabon Markets. The Soundless could use the farms, couldn't they?”
“There's a group even you couldn't hear dancing, Teud.” Apacea’s jibe hit home in the brief respite from the torrent, and that intense non-regard of the blindfold was turned on her.
“Do you know you smell?”
“Yes.” Apacea chirped, her thin hand brushing the gourds hanging from her belt. It was a well known downside to her chosen profession, and as such wasn't anything she’d take insult from. At least this time she hadn't brought one of her minions along - they just weren't the partying type. “Would you like to fight me about it?”
There was a pause as the group collectively held its breath, broken by a hearty and heartfelt guffaw. Teudila pounded the thinner (but spikier) Apacea’s shoulder as she laughed.
“Not now. Maybe later.” Though it was impossible to be sure, those present would have sworn later that Teudila winked.
“Does anyone want to hear about the innovations the Charr have brought to agriculture?” the tinker asked, brightly looking from one to the others, but as no one wanted to face the verbal flood again, no one answered.
“Practice tomorrow is going to be interesting, if nothing else.” Vyss muttered to herself as she took a bracing slug of her drink.
I’m on the quest to find good screenshots to put on my gaming rig’s wallpaper theme. I haven’t got Fraps or anything here, but these ones have come out not too bad for being crappy jpgs.
