A discrete offering to Sylaise

Accompanying an important lady all day has its risks, one being simply standing out.

Unlike his superior, Jorah traveled alone. He knew quite a bit about Arlathan. He knew few elderly elves still made offering to Sylaise. He carried with him a small, ring-sized jeweled box, hidden in his tunic. Jorah also knew the First Talon was in town, escorting a woman he had sworn an allegiance to. A very serious affair, he knew it to be. One that Jorah didn't have it in himself for. He thought to himself that the First Talon had more important business to attend to, which was a less treacherous thought than the idea the crow was hiding his greed behind romance. Either way, The First's affairs were none of his business.... His business today was with with the elders of Arlathan, and his wish to make an offering to Sylaise to pray for the health of his eldest son, despite the council's smothering of the traditions for the old gods. Jorah didn't believe much in Sylaise, but if there was a smidgen of a chance of it helping Tomas, he would travel the world to pray for anything.

The cult of Sylaise was, at the least, underground, and at worst, eradicated. Many were outraged when the old gods disappeared and their prayers began to go unanswered. Jorah needed to find them, to give his offering, and to make his prayers. He disembarked in Arlathan 20 years older, his hair dyed white, circular false-spectacles bringing out the wrinkles in his face. He looked as old as he felt, and with a touch of a bad posture and a stiff gait, no one would recognize him. He began by searching out the daughter of the old high priest, a woman who's done her best to disappear like him. He deceived her for directions to the old temple, censored from maps to prevent further violence just as much as stopping people like him. Either way, the crow had his trail, and, his warning. The way would be difficult. More difficult than he'd expected, and with little confidence in lady luck, he decided to find someone who could help him.

The bonfires were lit by the time he made his way back to the center of the festivities. He hobbled in a manner that made him pity himself even more. He found the crow at his typical haunt, finally away from his lady as the evening was now late. He approached, disguised in all but his voice. The First was not a man he approached often, but today, they were two compatriots in a sea of foreigners.

[color=orange]"I've got something to show you,"[/color] he said in a low tone beside Devante, [color=orange]"but the way is not safe."[/color] He doubted the First Talon would care about a dilapidated temple in the wilderness several miles outside the city, so better to leave that part out.

Coco was in a rented room with a single guard for the night. He had seen her to sleep, before returning to sit by a bonfire, and listen to stories from other travelers.

A familiar voice spoke next to him, and he stared into the fire. What do you want to show me? He inquired, in a low tone. It better be worth my time. There was an edge, then.

Devante was at the top of the organization for a reason; he was ruthless, secretive, and he'd do anything for himself. Not so much for others. But the Elven deities... they intrigued him; as part of his heritage that he never learned enough about. The same way this festival intrigued him.

Danger is of no consequence.

Jorah Mesonova didn't consider how this might be worth Devante's time, but he had between now amd then to figure that out. Knowing abandoned sacred forest's, they tended to have something for everyone (who was anyone).

Hunched, he led Devante wordlessly to the outskirts of the festival, away from the many bonfires where images pf the stories told tdanced magically in the flames. Soon, the path would slip into a slim forest trail with small idols carved into rocks marking the way. Now, he straightened his back and tickled his magic ring. The frosty cataracts faded from his brown eyes, but he left the delicate spectacles on.

This forest was at the edge of Antiva, home of the ancient elves, amd somewhere inside, walkable from here, was the relic of a shrine to Sylaise.

[color=orange]"It's this way,"[/color] he said in a low voice to Devante, shooting a glance at the other Talon to measure his belief that this was worthwhile. One could tell the way was forbidden by the large sign written in several languages, and the boards nailed over the trails entrance in a hasty looking manner.  [color=orange]"Unless you want to go back to your lady and her colorful yard games,"[/color] Jorah chuckled at the slightly younger Crow, more for Devante's humor than his own.

A lady and peaceful festival games would be enough for Jorah, in a luckier timeline.

Devante looked at the other Talon cynically, but got up and started following. He felt the odds were good it would be interest, considering where they were, but he didn't get where he was by just blindly trusting people. Whatever danger lay ahead, Devante was sure it was something that the two of them could handle, but he didn't enjoy knowing less of the danger than Jorah did.

What of this danger you talk about? What should I be ready for? If Joran knew there was danger ahead, then he had to have some idea of what that danger may be, and if he's still willing to go into it, then he must be sure of their combined abilities.

Jorah was climbing through a slim hole in the boards as Devante as him about the forest ahead. A hiking path was beyond the boards. Boards with faded paint hung from tassels, faint blessing washed away by years of rain and abandonment. Little chimes tinkled in the evening breeze, decorated with feathers and beads. One might wonder if the path was marked by a witch, but Jorah knew it was all that was left of the grand path to the old temple to Sylais, whom the denizens of Arlathan once worshipped.

[color=orange]"Old protective enchantments, left by the priests of Sylais, most likely. You know how the old mages liked to make guards of trees and rocks. There's one of the dragon shrines a walk up this way,"[/color] he struggled to pronounce, having to suck his stomach in to squeeze through the slim opening. [color=orange]"Hopefully, all the old believers and forest hermits have come down to town tonight,"[/color] he said shooting a glance to his cohort on the opposite side of the planks. He leaned on the plank now, speaking through the opening with a bright, daring humor in him. [color=orange]"Even you couldn't miss it, so why would they?"[/color] he ribbed Santanna with a smile.

Devante rolled his eyes. Sylaise? What do you want with the Elvhen gods, Mesonero? There was an edge to his voice, an uncertainty. He did not like the idea of humans treading where only Elves should.

Somewhere, deeply rooted in his heritage, it felt wrong. Why are you visiting Elvhen places of worship, in the first place? He's a bit more aware now, as he followed the other.

[color=orange]"Because,"[/color] he said, pacing his words with the excerption of hiking up the rubble of rocks and roots, [color=orange]"all that is left to fail me are the gods.... You are worried I will be disrespectful?"[/color] He turned and raised an eyebrow, as if remembering Devante was an elf suddenly, then shook his head. He only wished to pray for the health of his son, who's disease was a discrete detail. [color=orange]"No, it not like-"[/color]

A lateral root that Jorah had thought he had moved his foot high enough over latched over his toes, and he stumbled to his hands before righting himself and pausing like a cat. A light breeze stirred the bells tied to the tree branches, their tinkling surrounding them. [color=orange]"To the void, these roots..."[/color] Jorah finally  muttered getting up and rubbing the dirt off of his hands. [color=orange]"Do you think the stories are true, that the forest is...?"[/color] he paused, as the rumors were numerous and varied, and he did not know which tale to pluck out that fit what his guts were whimpering about.

Devante followed, breathing a bit easier than his companion, but then, he made it a point to stay combat-ready... and that meant being ready for anything. And his girl liked long hikes, that went up steeply. He'd once wondered if Coco was just trying to tire him out so she might flee.

They say this forest is alive with the dead. I think it's true, I mean... why would they rumor such a thing. Haunted forests? I've seen strange things in my time and so have you, old friend. He reminded the other Talon. They'd seen stranger things than a forest of the dead.

You're seeking the help of the gods... why? Why these gods and not your Maker? Though he was uncertain if the fellow Talon believed in the Maker. Many of the Crows no longer believed in any deities at all.

Jorah furrowed his brow, looking at the ground now and less at Devante as he made his way.

[color=orange]"These gods became gods somehow, impressed someone. Maybe they can do what the Maker does. I have been told often that there is only the Maker, but..."[/color] he hesitates, briefly checking how Devante might be interpreting this heresy, [color=orange]"I have never been blessed with the light of the Maker, I guess."[/color]

Clearing his throat, he awkardly circled back to the topic of the forest, very noticeably worried about this admission.

[color=orange]"The Elven world must have been very different when they died. I can't picture you haunting such a place,"[/color] Jorah chuckled, attempting a joke.

Dante studied the other Talon, nodding thoughtfully. I suppose the Maker is a stingy god. Perhaps the gods of my people can help. His question hadn't been totally answered; the why. But he wouldn't press for more than he needed to know.

The forest breathed, and he could feel the presence of many. But he could not see them. Nor could he sense them. Nevertheless, he grinned. Nah, when I die, I'll be haunting the Talon that takes me down. He joked, though it was the truth.

Jorah double-took, then laughed heartily. The trail had degraded into a mess of roots and jumbled square-ish rocked that perhaps once had been a staircase. He had to use his hands.

He settled into clucking his tongue in good humor, [color=orange]"you're just terrible at making friends, aren't you?"[/color] He raised an eyebrow to The First. They had never spoke alone before.

As they climbed, Dante snorted. Hard to make friends when you're at the top. Jorah should know that better than anyone. Though they were friendly now, their allegiances and goals could shift in moments. It could all be a facade, designed to bring down ones guard.

We really should repair this temple, sometime. He didn't clarify if 'we' was himself and Jorah or the elves in general.

Jorah paused in thought, turning Devante's remark over in his mind before replying. He was transported back the capital's dark, opulent meeting rooms gushing with velvet and embroidery the merchant princes kissed the crow leadership with. He barely noticed up ahead that there were several boulders balanced on top of each other, covered with engravings, but obscured by the growth of moss, lichen, and vines. They were nearly at it.

[color=orange]"It is a task for the new council. They would most likely see it as the crows meddling if we..."[/color] he hesitated, looking at Devante to read his expression.

Mmm. Probably. But we've the funds, and they do not. Perhaps a donation is in order...? He suggested, thoughtful of how they might donate without bringing attention to what or who they were donating to or for. It was unlike a Crow to be generous after all.

I think we're here. He stated, as they reached a large boulder stack, his fingers tapping the solid rock.

Suddenly, one of the roots cracked and twisted around Jorah's ankle, abruptly pulling him off of his feet, up the side of the boulder and into the air, while more grew to restrain his shoulders to the stone. The Mesonero made to reach for the dagger at his side, but his arm was clamped to his abdomen in the middle of the move to reach for it, his fingers inches from the knob of the hilt. Uhh... he shivered when the roots halted, nervously glancing towards Devante with a guilty plea in his eyes.

Do you know what I should do? This is a first for me...