Troll in the Playground
Re: Heroes of the Fall
What I would have responded with before Dark))
A Night to Remember
The First Dance
"I was there the night they danced, I saw I sight I shall never forget for all my life and into my reincarnations or afterlife, not because of the magic revealed, not because of their godly graces, but for the love."
Originally Posted by Raz_Fox
A Dance For Kalandor
Fayruz, filled with the vigor of her brother, was a sight to see, indeed! She was both uniquely of the rocklands, garbed in her dirty white reversed robes, and of the White City. Oh, and how she wore them! On her, they seemed not to make her lesser but to make her more, not dressing up or decorating the flower but simply highlighting the beautiful life of her face.
She grasped at Kalandor's hands, entwining her delicate marble-pale fingers about his rough, calloused ones with a bell-like laugh. "Brother," she said, "Most dances here are done alone! However..." She began to move their feet in a familiar pattern, sweeping him into an elegant ballroom dance straight from the White City.
The other dances around the circle quickly stopped. The Fayheran danced with passion, no matter whether they were descended from the dour Dereg or the wild Ma-Shen. When they were happy, they danced with wild abandon; when lustful, with enticing allure; when sad, with great motion and tearing of hair. But none of their dances could match the shadow of elegance shown before the fire. Fayruz was, for a moment, the princess of the White City in all her finery, dancing with her youngest brother. Her hair was as black as the night sky, her skin as bright as the sun caught within marble, and she moved as if she were in the Plaza of Song once more, not trapped down below. They spun and twirled with quiet elegance, caught in the spell of home.
Then the two dancers slowed, they stopped, and Fayruz and Kalandor stood face-to-face, their fingers intertwined so tightly, before the bright glow of the fire. She looked at him, and for a moment she was the most beautiful thing in the world; her eyes were the sun fallen from heaven, her skin as pure and faultless as the White City itself, but for the enticing veneer of her sweat gently slicking it, and her lips were as red as the brightest rubies. If all the gods had some primal terror lurking within them, this was hers: that one might fall in love and never fall back out, unless she were to take pity on you and show you the one who loved you most, to break her spell. But then compassion and warm love marred that terrible beauty, softened it into the beautiful face of a sister and a virgin mother.
"If you want to learn the dances of my people," she said, "I am certain that we would love to teach you. Although there are some more... feminine... dances that you might wish to avoid, darling brother. Avyra or Neive could quite certainly perform them, but... perhaps not one of my brothers."
One of the Revelers.
"Then lead me in one that we can both do."
While Kalandor had not danced the patterns of the white city, and he was never an avid dancer in the more graceful of dances, but he fell into the old patterns easily, falling into a lead roll, as was taught to him in the halls of song. Where Fayruz glowed with buety, and apeared well as a princes, nay, a queen, Kalandor was as a visiting noble, a knight at best. She danced with grace, for a time a living embodiment of all things graceful and buetiful. Kalandor danced as someone shown the steps, falling into a buetiful pattern, as a plate to show of the grace of food. Fayruz glowed with the inner light a diamond or ruby does, where as Kalandor's tan seemed to be of a ruddy complexion, and his hair to be of the dull earth that man steps on. He steps in perfect time, feeling the spell of familiarity, of homelyness, entiwne them both, hearing in his mind the Voice of the Choir. Her beauty was every bit offset and enhanced when against him, and he was sure he was not the only one who felt as he did when he gazed into her eyes. He stood captive in her spell, and almost felt weak when they stopped, and glad when she spoke.
"My dear sister, this night I would happily show you every step of every dance I have learned, and every note of every tune I have heard. That you would show me such dances in kind brings me more warmth to my heart than one could ever know."
Kalandor leaned his head forward, and for but a moment kissed her brow so fair, when his head leaned back, some of his exhuberance had returned.
The Second Dance-
"Besides, I have some gifts that would have me learn every dance."
And still smiling, Kalandor's face seemed to shift, and them before her, with fingers still entwined Fayruz saw herself reflected, her every beautiful feature shown in a mirror that could not be more perfect. She saw herself, and surely her own breath caught, before she, he, for a moment Fayruz knew not, Kalandor again shifted, where before he was a simple traveller, He stood almost a head taller than he was before, wiry strength replaced with manly muscle, and dirty hair replaced with long hair blacker then night reaching to his shoulders. His complexion was not marred by dull tan, it was a healthy white, with features as if chiselled from a dream. Leathers where now replaced with royal cloth, his chest and shoulders covered in shining plate, warm to touch, and his fingers now held Fayruz's hands delicately. And when he spoke, his voice was deep and seemed to resonate.
"Let me show a dance from the Kal'garu. It is simerler in grace and intent, but more energetic, to suit our guests."
And she had but that moment to feel the eyes lingering upon them before he started moving. And somehow unseen, music began to fill the room.
This dance, had all the great grace that was of the White City, but was of a nature more bound to the earth. He danced the role of a great ruler dancing with a queen, for that was how he saw her beauty. The dance was of grace but expressing in their love, slow turns and movement where faster, and there were some new moves, such as a spin, which Kalandor talked her through before they reached, and which she too pulled with grace.
This dance called of both the White City, and of the earth they both felt beneath their feet. It was a compromise, and bound them of a song that sung of Here, and Now.
Where a moment before, in the gleam of firelight, she had been the greatest of bueties, Kalandor danced as the strongest of men. She could feel the power of his flesh, as strong as any fortress, whose walls surrounded her and gave safety but not suffocation. He exuded the very essence of man, which called to all things feminine within him, his love for her like a beacon shining for home. His dance was a response to her that he had made many times to many women, yet this one he showed not just the love he showed for the woman, if just for the night, but a fearful reply to what had gripped them both before. Will you choose me, if just for a night. Will you accept me...
Yet even as hers was a terror, his was restraint that spoke of just the night, that he must go, that to settle was not him, that he had not found what he was looking for, yet this was underlined by a fear that he had.
And not a single of the revellers danced, not the merry guard that had sat at her side, or the one of the woman who had come lustful, to seek a night of passion, all stood watching them dance a dance of love. They still stood in silent awe as the dance winded down, and both the dance and music stopped. The music having a sudden end that spoke of things more unsaid.
And when Kalandor finally spoke, it was a suprised his voice did not waver.
My sister. If you can not see that I, as all your brothers would in the sight of such a beauty, would like to learn all you would teach and show you in return all I can, then I would happily lift the veal from your eyes while we await the suns rise.
His eyes, dark brown pits that seemed to draw her eyes as the open road draws Kalandor, spoke volums of the truth of his words, and those few that could see his eyes to saw the love in them. He broke the mode only with the greatest reluctance, with a whisper only she can hear.
"However, lest you wish to show me all your dances, we may wish to dance with another partner for a moment.
And yet his words would only drive the slightest of wedges into the mood. It was clear that while he led the dance, he would leave this dance for Fayruz to lead.
Kalandor was used to surprises, so it was no surprise he reacted first and quickly.
It was at this moment Kalandor was very glad he was a shapeshifter, for he could do several things very fast, that no mortal (that he knew of) could d0.
First, his hands slipped through Fayruz's, simply shifting around them, allowing Kalandor to turn to face the beings.
A third hand sprouted out of his back, grabbing his stave, which quickly flowwed up his body to his ready hands.
His form went from a human with wiry strength to a large human with obvious muscles, as well as several modifacations he had made for fighting with his stave, made by observing the beastial beings and picking the best traits.
His head became that of a large wolf with wicked and sharp horns.
His skin became scaled.
His joints suddenly became ball joints, but would change to provide strength.
And all this happened in the time it took for him to step forward.
And anyone that looked past him still probally wouldn't have noticed the stave becoming a double glaive.
If anyone was stunned with shock, they were douby so now, and the attackers probaly would be at this point as well.
And Kalandor had only just launched to the attack, striking with flicking but powerful motions towards both of them.
My Homebrew Sig.
Woo, I have a Quote.
Originally Posted by Moonwolf727
To avoid harming the sanity of the DM I can no longer:
* Cast flesh to stone on a annoying Druid
** Cast Rock to mud on a Druid statue
*** Scoop mud into little ceramic pots
**** Plant tree's in individual ceramic pots
***** Claim that I have helped them become one with nature
Last edited by Erik Vale : 02-29-2012 at 08:44 PM.