Loklorien s'Ilancy
Jan 20th, 2005, 12:32:03 PM
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The Infiltrator had come in silently, during the night to land without fanfare in the foothils that made up the lower end of the Enrekhai Valley.
It was in this Valley that the northern, nomadic Shu'Yon clans lived, following their opahk herds diligently while still eluding General Mogadu's armies. Unlike the majority of Cathar, the Enrekhai Valley was lush with vegetation. The Shu'Yon who lived in the valley made a living off trding opahk skins, meat, and bone trinkets in the southern cities below the Kurai Pass, and it was not an uncommon thing to see the rugged, mountain and valley worn Shu'Yon caravanning southward along the River Tir.
s'Il had brought the Infiltrator in rather high, so as to keep the sound of the ship's engines at a minimun level for those slumbering away the night. The Arankhumen Mountains were an impressive sight, and from the foothills, they were even more magnificient. Jutting crags in some places, and sky-kissing peaks in others. For all the sand and desolation of Cathar, the Enrekhai Valley was considered the womb of the planet's rebirth and the Arankhumen Mountains were the cradle of its' soul.
And it was in a hollowed out cave that the Lupine landed the Infiltrator. Unassuming and out of the way, it was the perfect place to hide the ship.
As Cathar slept, the Lupine was preparing herself for the journey ahead.
- - -
No longer wearing her normal attire, s'Il was clad in the desert clothes she had retrieved from the trunk. Trading in her normal grey infantry pants for tan trousers, and her normal black tee had been replaced by a heavier white sleeveless button-down over which she had draped a long and also sleeveless overvest that tied loosely at the front and fell to her knees. The chill morning wind whipped at the outer cloak she'd wrapped around herself, and the leather book sat open in her lap. Her hair had been tied back hastily - evident from the few strands that had come loose. She looked hardened - as if she had lived in the deserts of Cathar her entire life, and while her skin was not as bronzed as it usually was due to her more recent lack of outdoor activities, she still was darker than most. The leather belt had been latched around her waist - now under the cloak of course - and an elegant, gently sweeping blade secured to one of the metal D-rings that encircled the belt's outer circumference. Metal, bone, and beaded charms (to ward off the armies of Mogadu, as some said) also hung from other metal rings of the belt. Leather bracers, accented with the native goldstone, covered her forearms from wrist to elbow, and fingerless opahk calf gloves held the palms and tops of her hands. Her boots had been crafted for desert trekking and riding, lacing up to end at mid-calf beneath her pantlegs.
Lok s'Ilancy looked like she belonged on Cathar.
From the craggy outcropping she had claimed as a perch over which she could observe the waking hours of another day on Cathar, the Lupine sat crosslegged. She had been reading from its' passages for the last thirty minutes, using the rays of the rising sun to illuminate the ancient text and drawings held within the covers.
Somewhat obssessed with the book, she was always careful to hide it from others - to her it was for her eyes only. She guarded it zealously almost, and it was a rare occasion when she ever allowed another person to view what she was reading and deciphering of the old diagrams provided. The pages themselves had withstood the test of time, and the ink that had been used was still dark and easily readable.
As the sun slowly began to rise fully from the tops of the easten mountains far to the other side of the valley, s'Il lifted her head briefly to survey the valley partially below her. The morning in full would soon arrive, and so the Lupine went back to her studies, waiting for Desaria to rouse himself and make an appearance.
With a finger tracing the handwritten words, s'Il once more immersed herself in the ancient text only to stop at a paragraph she had not noticed before.
If the followers of Losstarot should ever find the refuge of my grandfather, then the entire lineage will be doomed. What they pursue is blasphemy in the eyes of the one who made us all - for we are beacons of light, weapons with which to strike down the menace of those who wield the magiks. We are the ones who are responsible for watching over those who cannot defend themselves from the devestation such magik causes; for we are their defense. We are their protectors. I know that this book will pass through many ages before one of our kind lays eyes upon it again, but I also know this. In my own dreams I have seen it. Two offworlders with hair like the sun will find the resting place of my grandfather's life work. They will release the Guardian left behind, and take the vials of true life back to the stars.
The Lupine looked again out at the expanse before her, whispering to herself in contemplation.
"... Two offworlders..."
The Infiltrator had come in silently, during the night to land without fanfare in the foothils that made up the lower end of the Enrekhai Valley.
It was in this Valley that the northern, nomadic Shu'Yon clans lived, following their opahk herds diligently while still eluding General Mogadu's armies. Unlike the majority of Cathar, the Enrekhai Valley was lush with vegetation. The Shu'Yon who lived in the valley made a living off trding opahk skins, meat, and bone trinkets in the southern cities below the Kurai Pass, and it was not an uncommon thing to see the rugged, mountain and valley worn Shu'Yon caravanning southward along the River Tir.
s'Il had brought the Infiltrator in rather high, so as to keep the sound of the ship's engines at a minimun level for those slumbering away the night. The Arankhumen Mountains were an impressive sight, and from the foothills, they were even more magnificient. Jutting crags in some places, and sky-kissing peaks in others. For all the sand and desolation of Cathar, the Enrekhai Valley was considered the womb of the planet's rebirth and the Arankhumen Mountains were the cradle of its' soul.
And it was in a hollowed out cave that the Lupine landed the Infiltrator. Unassuming and out of the way, it was the perfect place to hide the ship.
As Cathar slept, the Lupine was preparing herself for the journey ahead.
- - -
No longer wearing her normal attire, s'Il was clad in the desert clothes she had retrieved from the trunk. Trading in her normal grey infantry pants for tan trousers, and her normal black tee had been replaced by a heavier white sleeveless button-down over which she had draped a long and also sleeveless overvest that tied loosely at the front and fell to her knees. The chill morning wind whipped at the outer cloak she'd wrapped around herself, and the leather book sat open in her lap. Her hair had been tied back hastily - evident from the few strands that had come loose. She looked hardened - as if she had lived in the deserts of Cathar her entire life, and while her skin was not as bronzed as it usually was due to her more recent lack of outdoor activities, she still was darker than most. The leather belt had been latched around her waist - now under the cloak of course - and an elegant, gently sweeping blade secured to one of the metal D-rings that encircled the belt's outer circumference. Metal, bone, and beaded charms (to ward off the armies of Mogadu, as some said) also hung from other metal rings of the belt. Leather bracers, accented with the native goldstone, covered her forearms from wrist to elbow, and fingerless opahk calf gloves held the palms and tops of her hands. Her boots had been crafted for desert trekking and riding, lacing up to end at mid-calf beneath her pantlegs.
Lok s'Ilancy looked like she belonged on Cathar.
From the craggy outcropping she had claimed as a perch over which she could observe the waking hours of another day on Cathar, the Lupine sat crosslegged. She had been reading from its' passages for the last thirty minutes, using the rays of the rising sun to illuminate the ancient text and drawings held within the covers.
Somewhat obssessed with the book, she was always careful to hide it from others - to her it was for her eyes only. She guarded it zealously almost, and it was a rare occasion when she ever allowed another person to view what she was reading and deciphering of the old diagrams provided. The pages themselves had withstood the test of time, and the ink that had been used was still dark and easily readable.
As the sun slowly began to rise fully from the tops of the easten mountains far to the other side of the valley, s'Il lifted her head briefly to survey the valley partially below her. The morning in full would soon arrive, and so the Lupine went back to her studies, waiting for Desaria to rouse himself and make an appearance.
With a finger tracing the handwritten words, s'Il once more immersed herself in the ancient text only to stop at a paragraph she had not noticed before.
If the followers of Losstarot should ever find the refuge of my grandfather, then the entire lineage will be doomed. What they pursue is blasphemy in the eyes of the one who made us all - for we are beacons of light, weapons with which to strike down the menace of those who wield the magiks. We are the ones who are responsible for watching over those who cannot defend themselves from the devestation such magik causes; for we are their defense. We are their protectors. I know that this book will pass through many ages before one of our kind lays eyes upon it again, but I also know this. In my own dreams I have seen it. Two offworlders with hair like the sun will find the resting place of my grandfather's life work. They will release the Guardian left behind, and take the vials of true life back to the stars.
The Lupine looked again out at the expanse before her, whispering to herself in contemplation.
"... Two offworlders..."