Frolic in Mictlan

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It's Korday, Pryntar 02 13:30:23 1019. The full moon isn't up. The tide is low and rising. The sky is cloudless and brilliant blue. The northwest wind is icy, blowing snow across the landscape in swirling white gusts.

W02: Mictlan


On this cold, windy day Many huddle close to their fires for comfort. But the stirring of the air plays with the attention of younglings, many of whom have been restrained for weeks from getting too exposed to the ice and snow. From the treeline surrounding the sacred land of Mictlan, emerges a tiny dragon, bright red in scales, with butterfly-esqe wings. He is flying low to the ground, darting this way and that, as if teasing some unseen follower, and holds a coiled leather whip in its front talons. The little dragon doesn't venture far from the trees.

After a few moments, Ga'Elian comes running, barefoot and lacking much of his normal gear, from the same part of the trees. Even running full out, his speed cannot hope to compete with that of the dragon, if it were to take a straight course, but the diminutive creature's course is coy rather than straight, just barely keeping the elf from catching him. He calls out in a fae voice, "Oh hunter, don't you give up yet?" Then flits further off with a high-pitched giggle. <sylvan>

The grounds of Mictlan are not free of snow nor chill. However, as one enters, the discomfort of the numbing cold becomes muted, as if numbed, itself. The temperature does not change, yet any unpleasant effects fade away.

Many still congregate around the cookfires, still; if nothing else, they are a source of food, words, and community. Un'eth is not presently at one, instead curled around a mound of earth and decaying vegetation that is conspicuously free from snow.

Durrankar watches from the cooking fire, breathing a little easier now that Mictlan is now warded from evil outside interference. Also, the entirety of Mictlan is warded with an endure element spell.

He is still cooking, thankfully now out of the veil spell. he does glance over towards Un'eth, before turning his attention back towards the faerie dragon and the pursuing elf.

The faerie dragon bobs this way and that a bit longer, but then comes to a landing. As Ga'Elian catches up, the creature hands him the whip and bows its head reverently toward the enormous bones that hallow this place. Ga'Elian takes the whip and hangs it from his belt. Then says, "Thanks, Sparklewing. I freely admit you are funnier than I gave you credit for." Then, noticing the change in the dragon's mood, looks out at the sight, and says, "Deep are the memories held in this place." <draconic>

Un'eth is, or was, dozing. Possibly. She uncurls from her position and rises, eyes and snout turning promptly towards Durrankar. Perhaps his glance was felt? Perhaps she simply is aware of such things. Her tail thumps the ground once before her attention shifts to the softskin hunter and... acquaintance. "Ssa. Deep here as they are in all of the blood." <draconic>

Ga'Elian turns toward Un'eth and takes a few steps closer. He says, "I've not been here since the protections were invoked. Peace on your..." he winks, "nest. May I present a new friend of mine. This is Sparklewing. We met each other a few weeks ago in the Ygdrassil sapling's grove." At this the small dragon smiles and nods. <draconic>

"Many memories as well, should you wish to share." Durrankar says in draconic as he looks towards Elian and the little dragon. "Yes. It is nice to see you again, Elian. And welcome to the renewed Mictlan." he then turns away a pot at the fire to let it cool. A stew it seems, bubbling in the cauldron.

Un'eth eyes the little demi-dragon a moment before her tail thumps the ground. "Welcome and peace to yours." She sniffs, then sniffs again, snout turning back to Durrankar and his pot.

Sparklewing rises a couple feet into the air again, clearly more at home in flight than on foot. He sniffs at the cauldron. and says, "Memories are important, true... but this is too beautiful of a day to spend wallowing in the past. Now these younglings just over there? I can tell they're ready to play." He looks over. Then, with a wink, he's off spiralling through the air to amuse the afore-said younglings with a display of Dancing Lights and his own aerial acrobatics. <draconic>

Ga'Elian shakes his head with a little smile, and says, "Yep. He's never one to stay still for long."

"Memories help guide. Those who do not know the past tend to repeat it." Durrankar says as the fae dragon flits off. "Just hope he doesn't get hurt. Some of the young ones are learning to hunt." He then looks to Un'eth. "Cihuaa, I am making a second pot for you. To see if you like."

Un'eth watches the dragonling flit off to be pursued by the younglings. "They learn to hunt, but they KNOW play," she advises as she stands and stretches. En route to Durrankar and his cooking, she adds, "I expect that I will like."

Ga'Elian nods. "I imagine chasing him will further their hunt training. And, he can look out for himself, quite well." Turning back to face his hosts, he says, "So, the snow falls here, and the winds blow, but your folk seem... unhindered by the cold. Rather like I have been since I got a certain enchantment added to my armor recently. I'm sure that has been a great blessing. One can do things in the intense cold, but who really wants to?"