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sirenspull_logs2012-01-29 12:22 pm
returnsmagic) wrote in sirenspull_logs2012-01-29 12:22 pm
Entry tags:
While though the tempest loudly roars, I hear the truth, it liveth.
Who: Aurican and YOU
When: all day in January 29 to January 30 an hour before morning sirens
Where: Everywhere
Summary: A day of an old man, a night of a gold dragon.
Warnings: Aurican's good manners and etiquette.
It has been weeks since Aurican's arrival.
Strange, how he takes special note of the weeks here, when back home he barely takes notice the years. And yet here he is, taking care to observe the calendar, the holidays, the "first quarter" of the economy, the names of the days and months. Things that never bothered Aurican before. If the elves weren't concerned about, neither was he. Truly, this is a human domain with just a little bit of everything: gods and demons, houses and "computers" and "robots", of poetry and literature and "blogs", magic and technology, and of every culture he could have imagine and could never begin to dream of. There is churches of every dominion he never knew (but never of Paladine or Takhisis, or any of the gods of Krynn, and he takes very cold comfort from that), as well as forces that are strictly anti-religion. Other forces are a little more disturbing, such as the supporters of the wrenched companies, ready at the hand to trample over the downtrodden and the lame for a profit and society's approval. Or, in a more recent example, the group that earned the label "Newcomer Killers" that is pushing for a violent action against newcomers such as himself. This, of course, is disconcerting enough to gain his attention, which all the while might as be flattering to the killers, to gain such an interest from a dragon.
Flattering as it is dangerous, of course. Aurican is merciful, yes, but as his kin-dragons Darlantan and Blayze once demonstrated, mercy must be tempered by strength. And there is no doubt that Aurican is mighty. Not the mightiest on this island, no, but he is fairly certain that he is at least formidable, from his magic and his breath weapons, down to his claws and wings and teeth. He will use his magic most of the time, after all. He has been through so much and sacrificed greatly for the return for the magic. It will be a dishonor to turn aside magic for the brutal and vicious might of a dragon's talons and fire.
But the question remains: is hiding even necessary? Hiding his dragon form?
Back home, Aurican remained in two-legged form for mostly for convience. It is easier to enter the buildings (and less destructive), and to flip the pages and unfurl the scrolls with the complex machinations of the hands than with a dragon's talons, and to read the small text. It is easier to savor the feasts with the smaller, more complex tongue of a lesser being than it is with the long, serpentine tongue. The feel of a warm bed vastly differs than sleeping in a nest made out of gems and stone. He could go on, really. It really shouldn't be that different here in Siren's Port.
What discerns him is that is the necessary of hiding. He never hid in Ansalon. He never had a reason too. He is Aurican, scion of Paladine himself, a dragon filled with honored purpose. Why should he hide who he is? He never bothered to hide, not even during the war. Except there is a war going in this land, but it is discreet, hidden within the offices of the politicians and the shareholders, the investors, and the gangs. A war over influence, a war over resources, a war over peoples' souls. A war that, if Aurican is not careful, might be dragged into just because he is a newcomer and a dragon as well. He might be a slave for entertainment for AGI, or an experiment ready to for dissection for SERO. Or maybe he will be ensnared by another newcomer. This place is not home, and Aurican will do well to remember that. So discretion is necessary, certainty. Which is why he created Old Man Eurig, the balladeer, the man who dotters over music. The old man is active in the day time, ready for bed a few hours after dark.
But every once in a while, Aurican the dragon takes to the skies, learning the land and roads and the monsters. A few he knocked out of the skies with his breath, but nearly all the time he uses his magic to strike them down, especially when there are soon-to-be-victims of the monsters' wrath to be considerate of.
Strange, how he takes special note of the weeks here, when back home he barely takes notice the years. And yet here he is, taking care to observe the calendar, the holidays, the "first quarter" of the economy, the names of the days and months. Things that never bothered Aurican before. If the elves weren't concerned about, neither was he. Truly, this is a human domain with just a little bit of everything: gods and demons, houses and "computers" and "robots", of poetry and literature and "blogs", magic and technology, and of every culture he could have imagine and could never begin to dream of. There is churches of every dominion he never knew (but never of Paladine or Takhisis, or any of the gods of Krynn, and he takes very cold comfort from that), as well as forces that are strictly anti-religion. Other forces are a little more disturbing, such as the supporters of the wrenched companies, ready at the hand to trample over the downtrodden and the lame for a profit and society's approval. Or, in a more recent example, the group that earned the label "Newcomer Killers" that is pushing for a violent action against newcomers such as himself. This, of course, is disconcerting enough to gain his attention, which all the while might as be flattering to the killers, to gain such an interest from a dragon.
Flattering as it is dangerous, of course. Aurican is merciful, yes, but as his kin-dragons Darlantan and Blayze once demonstrated, mercy must be tempered by strength. And there is no doubt that Aurican is mighty. Not the mightiest on this island, no, but he is fairly certain that he is at least formidable, from his magic and his breath weapons, down to his claws and wings and teeth. He will use his magic most of the time, after all. He has been through so much and sacrificed greatly for the return for the magic. It will be a dishonor to turn aside magic for the brutal and vicious might of a dragon's talons and fire.
But the question remains: is hiding even necessary? Hiding his dragon form?
Back home, Aurican remained in two-legged form for mostly for convience. It is easier to enter the buildings (and less destructive), and to flip the pages and unfurl the scrolls with the complex machinations of the hands than with a dragon's talons, and to read the small text. It is easier to savor the feasts with the smaller, more complex tongue of a lesser being than it is with the long, serpentine tongue. The feel of a warm bed vastly differs than sleeping in a nest made out of gems and stone. He could go on, really. It really shouldn't be that different here in Siren's Port.
What discerns him is that is the necessary of hiding. He never hid in Ansalon. He never had a reason too. He is Aurican, scion of Paladine himself, a dragon filled with honored purpose. Why should he hide who he is? He never bothered to hide, not even during the war. Except there is a war going in this land, but it is discreet, hidden within the offices of the politicians and the shareholders, the investors, and the gangs. A war over influence, a war over resources, a war over peoples' souls. A war that, if Aurican is not careful, might be dragged into just because he is a newcomer and a dragon as well. He might be a slave for entertainment for AGI, or an experiment ready to for dissection for SERO. Or maybe he will be ensnared by another newcomer. This place is not home, and Aurican will do well to remember that. So discretion is necessary, certainty. Which is why he created Old Man Eurig, the balladeer, the man who dotters over music. The old man is active in the day time, ready for bed a few hours after dark.
But every once in a while, Aurican the dragon takes to the skies, learning the land and roads and the monsters. A few he knocked out of the skies with his breath, but nearly all the time he uses his magic to strike them down, especially when there are soon-to-be-victims of the monsters' wrath to be considerate of.
[ ooc: Permissions post here! Just make sure I don't step anyone's toes. Also, put in the location and time on the subject line! ]
no subject
"I suppose to old men like us, that is not too long." A joke on Aurican's behalf, but let be known that he is not known for his jester nature.
no subject
"How has the work on your songs been coming along? I would love to hear some of them when you are finished." He truly appreciated the arts, they could take you places far from where you were.
no subject
On occasions, Aurican regrets his isolationism, his usual preference to elves alone, for as he starts to settle in the city, he realizes that he misses many potentials from his world. Even Darlantan enjoyed the company of humans, as strange as they are. But at least Aurican can correct that matter.
"I am still writing my songs, but in the style I knew from my world. I am currently studying the language of music here, so perhaps a translation of sorts can be provided. The styles, the languages, event the instruments are different."
no subject
He smiles kindly. He meant every word of it too. Without travelling and learning about others, he would not be the man he is today.
"Well, I wish you the best of luck in your endeavours. My workplace does sell instruments, feel free to try them out and decide which suits you best."
no subject
His ordered food is served, and he gives his thanks to the waiter.
"Thank you, I might pick up that offer."
no subject
He wanted to retire, but with the dangers of the city, he felt more compelled to try and help.
"It would be a pleasure to have you, I always enjoy hearing music."