{{
`${userDetail.user.displayName}${userDetail.user.cachedBungieGlobalDisplayNameCode ? `#${standardizeBungieGlobalCode(userDetail.user.cachedBungieGlobalDisplayNameCode)}` : ""}`}}
{{getUserClans()}}
originally posted in:The New Dojo
Edited by Warp Saber:
12/5/2017 10:13:27 PM
127
It was a bit of a busy scene on the outskirts of Dojoville, as Verdantus was busy clearing out an empty lot. The tall Fey was clad in worker’s jeans and a forest green shirt and jacket. His hands were covered in dirt, but still gleamed with a faint green glow as he carefully dug his trowel, and about thirty more just like it, held in invisible hands, moving in parallel with the one in his hands. He carefully lifted up the plants from the dirt and moved them to replant towards the edges, muttering a little poem over them as he planted them back.
[i]Leolath leolath re-drasil
Rutcontes, rutcontes aclon Ydrasil
Mariginos fee tenrias leola Te-Norag
I fendras ur Sylvani nyrusies kysdyran[/i]
He continued with his work until a large circle touching every side of the square lot was cleared, and then started walking around it, not pausing as he waved a greeting to the nearby person.
[spoiler]You are the nearby person, open
[/spoiler]
-
[i]"What sort of Satanism is this...?" Natalie playfully inquired, her tone inquisitive and joking all at once. Normally things like people building didn't interest Nat too much, but when the person looks like Treebeard, she tended to investigate. Normally Nat wore her typical combat gear, though right now she was just wandering about the city's outskirts boredly, and as such she didn't have it with her. Rather the mage had on a pair of black tights and a set of knee-high lace boots, as well as a purple tank top underneath an open white track jacket. Her staff was resting on her back as usual. [/i]
-
“Not satanism at all, that’s only on Tuesdays when I’m drunk and hanging out with old Ivory.” He says cheerily as he completes another circle. “I’m just moving.”
-
[i]"Well that's the obvious thing here," Nat responded, taking a look at the hole and each of the shovels. "Need some help?" [/i]
-
“No, I need to take care of this bit myself or else I might wind up abducting part of your home and adducting it to mine.”
-
[i]"Riiight... I mean with the hole, not the actual building." [/i]
-
“No, that’s a good part of it, just a few more rotations and a few more minutes for the roots to travel and I’ll be ready.”
-
[i]"Roots to travel?" [/i]
-
“You’ll see in just a moment.” He finishes his circle and moves the trowels away, their bronze heads glinting in the sunlight.
-
[i]Nat took a few steps back. [/i]
-
He stretched out his hand and a pulse of magic echoed from the lot, like a gong the size of the moon being struck a world away. [i]Yevron fe iondra re ydrnma iondra Io feerion lo mu ku ydrnma[/i] The air turned sweet with the scent of growing things. Emerald droplets like dew formed on the plants surrounding the circle, and rolled off the leaves onto the earth. As they ran down into the circle and ran around it like a trough, spreading outward into countless sylvan markings. The flowing text stood upwards and the brilliant green faded to countless saplings, which reached upwards and intertwined. Living wood and living stone grew together, flowing into and being drawn into a distinct shape. Rooms and roofs, doorways and windows, floors, stairwells, and all the other necessities. Within about five minutes, the proud old house, a Victorian manor’s slightly more humble cousin, made of living rock and yew and hawthorn and Rowan and pine and ancient, eternal Fey oak as a foundation finished growing into existence. Now surrounded by a verdant lawn of wild grass, and shaded by four tall thorny sycamore trees. Verdantus wiped the sweat from his brow, looked harshly at the fresh stand of grey hair blowing across his head until it finally relented and turned back black and hopped on his head where it belonged. He gave a halfhearted and slightly weak snap to turn his work clothes back to his green suit, which was looking quite a bit darker and shabbier than usual, and walked up to his door and opened it, offering Nat an invitation to step in.
-
[i]Nat watched the creation, not with curiosity or disbelief but a slight magical intrigue. She herself was a mage through geneology, although the tree man was able to manipulate nature. Perhaps he was in the same boat? She pondered on it for a moment. When Verdantus offered her a trip inside of the newly erected house, she took a few eager steps into the building with curiosity. She didn't quite know what he was making for himself, so she was intrigued to see it. [/i]
-
The moment she stepped into the lot, the world shifted slightly. Senses intensified, green was greener, the wind rustled through the grass and leaves like a faint harp. Fir, Rowan, Green Tea, Pepermint, and coffee mixed through the air in a tapestry of pleasant aromas. It was warmer here than outside, like a spring day instead of early winter. Inside, the house was richly decorated with wooden sculpture and paintings. Verdantus reclined on a rocking chair that looked hand made, and gestured broadly to his surroundings. “Welcome as a guest to my home, please, make yourself company and Angie shall get us something to drink.”
-
[i]Natalie knew something was odd. Enjoyable, but... Different. It appealed to her in a different way that the city did. She saw the various woods and intensified shades of green as the scents pleasantly filled her thoughts, which sent a wave of calmness rushing throughout her. She took it all in for a moment, and eventually found herself sitting atop a wooden chair across from Verdantus. "Who's Angie?" [/i]
-
“My housekeeper and an old friend, ah, here she is now.” A slightly short and stocky woman, of indeterminate age, with blond hair kept back in a bum and silver eyes, dressed in a long old fashioned puffy dress and bonnet enters, takes a look around, and nods at Verdantus before stepping through a different door.
-
[i]"You have a housekeeper despite building this place two minutes ago?" [/i]
-
“I didn’t so much build it as summon it. Though there is real wood and stone here acting as a frame. Mostly Rowan actually.”
-
[i]"Huh. Where did you learn this magic?" [/i]
-
“What do you think I am?” He asks coyly, with a faint smile on his face.
-
[i]"Surely you weren't born knowing how to summon a home?" [/i]
-
“I wasn’t really born at all.”
-
[i]"Well, you'll now what I mean. I'm sure you learned how to use your talents and all, right?" [/i]
-
“Over time yes. I learned the inspiration for this spell when I watched the sage of Britain use it.”
-
[i]"So you, what, learned it by watching? How did you learn how to even cast it?" [/i]
-
“Again I ask you, what am I? Why are my trowels copper and not iron?” The Fey fellow smiles.
-
[i]"Because of your birth, obviously. Though everyone learns how to do everything - A bird isn't born knowing how to fly, it learns." [/i]
