[Ranger Hall] In Pursuit of Nature

[Decimus Talior]

5th brightening of Kalendryas

 

Peer Moderation. This Thread has been approved for Peer Moderation, assigned to Peermod Larien Gildae under the authority of Game Master Anne, as per the accepted Modplan. Participants are advised that conditions and circumstances may be adjusted to ensure fairness and balance.

After visiting his meager hovel, Decimus wound his way down the the area known as the Henges using the directions the strangely cloaked elf had provided,. He was engrossed in Natura's close affiliation with...well, nature. Wood was seldom used in the homes, and plants and trees crawled everywhere. Somehow, Decimus felt more at home than he had ever felt in his travels; had his ancestors in fact resided here? Maybe the Hall would hold more revalations in store for him.

The marble and granite structure seemed to blossom out of the ground, like the path into the city. Decimus had to pause a moment to admire the beautifully entwined ivy spiraling over the columns.

The gate was grand, yet simple in its own natural way. Suddenly, the elf stopped. To knock, or just go in? What was the custom in this place? The predicament arose as keenly as the building. A moment of hesitation passed, Decimus's hand frozen in the air.

Then, clenching a fist, he knocked.

[Larien Gil'dae]

OOC: Sorry for the wait, hun

IC: A few long moments dragged by as Decimus waited on the threshold of the Ranger Hall, probably feeling more than a little nervous and possibly even foolish as he was left out in the cold... until, finally, the door swung open with an almost tentative slowness to reveal an elven woman with soulful brown eyes and a wolf-head clasp at her throat that designated her as a Ranger. "Vedui," she said softly, her voice lilting like a warm breeze brushing through the limbs of a willow tree. She held Decimus's gaze for a few more long moments before stepping back and opening the door further. "Welcome to the Ranger Hall." With a small smile, the elf woman then turned away from the other, walking slowly away as she allowed him to enter and look around at his own leisure.

The Hall looked like it had been a Barracks of some sort before the Rangers had moved in and while Rangers were known for their roving ways, even they needed a place to congregate, and to discuss pertinent matters. On either door, however, far above the reach of even a Giant, there was one massive “face”, stylised wolf-heads, their solemn faces shown in a full-front position biased from above as if the eye of the artist had been looking at a wolf from above, were sheathed in softly gleaming silver, not snarling but calm and peaceful in their hollow-eyed expressions and conveying the impression of carer and protector. One Elven woman, wearing a smaller version of the wolf-head as a clasp upon her forest-green cloak which designated her as Ranger, was standing in the foyer – she looked up calmly with her dark brown eyes and smiled, then continued on her way.

Silent and watchful, the Silver Wolves would return to their Hall to speak to their Kin, or to pick up on bits of news from the city they were sworn to protect, and though they lived here, their souls belonged to the Naturan forests.

Inside the building, past the massive doors there was a noticeboard. Tacked onto this was a piece of parchment, written in the spidery hand of someone more used to elvish script than common. The Rangers of Natura, the Sentinels against all evil and the protectors of the lands and peoples, were a welcoming and gentle people who nevertheless would defend their beloved lands with bow, blade and cunning.

The notice read thus:



Ranger Courses
To become a Naturan Ranger you must have at least:
Initiate to Apprentice Druidism (Excluding Animal Shapeshifting spells, and Elements Manipulation Spells)
Intermediate to Advanced in Bowmanship
Optional: Basic in Dagger or Short-Sword; Tracking and Basic Herbalism or Healing
You have the option to train up to Journeyman in Druidism, and all the way up to Mastery in Bowmanship

Rangers can also learn Tracking and Basic Herbalism, and when someone becomes a Naturan Ranger (Silver Wolf) then they will receive a Cloak as a reward… tightly woven cashmere, hooded, and with a silver stylised wolf’s-head clasp. The cloak will keep you warm in even the chilliest of winters, will provide a fair amount of camouflage and concealment (as long as you’re not leaping about like a gazelle) and is totally impermeable to water. It shifts constantly from leaf-green to beech-silver, to fog-translucent, and at night-time shows the hue of the shadows under the forest boughs.

Rangers must pass a “test” of sorts, a bit like the Quests that the Druids, the Clergy and Bards must undertake, and this shall prove whether or not they are noble of spirit and gentle of heart, a true protector of Natura. The Symbol of the Naturan Ranger is the Silver Wolf and is usually worn as a clasp on their cloak, and sometimes embossed into their possessions. It is not unusual to see someone walking in Natura with a longbow slung over their shoulder, the weapon showing the small symbol of the Silver Wolf’s head.

Compulsory Courses will include the learning of:
A minimum of Initiate Druidism
A minimum of Intermediate in the field of Archery and
Tracking with the option to take lessons in both Basic Herbalism and Healing


These Druidic spells are to aid our Rangers in connecting with the lands of Natura and the Bowmanship is a requisite of the Ranger course, although students may, in addition to learning the bow, undertake basic studies in the use of a Dagger, and a Short-Sword. Those joining our Ranger-Force will take an oath of Guardianship and are expected to uphold this Oath. Only those who feel in their souls that they are worthy of the Trust of the Goodly Deities need apply.

~ Ranger-Mistress Owaten.

As Decimus surveyed his surroundings, one light of foot and soft of step was slowly sneaking up behind him. "Well serale there!" Came an almost too jovial voice directly behind the young man. Should he turn around, he would find himself looking at nothing of interest except for more of the hall. However, should he also look downwards, he would find himself face-to-face (well, not quite, but close enough) with a halfling man possessing of a healthy abundance of curly brown hair, wide brown eyes, and an easy smile. "The name's Aviat Goodtrack. Is there anything I can help you with on this brightening?"

[Decimus Talior]

OOC: No problem.

IC: The following moments were the longest he had yet experienced in his short life.

Gradually the cold began to get to him, and Decimus found himself tapping his feet on the ground every now and then, refraining from stomping out the cold in fear of showing impatience to whomever was observing, or waiting inside. Thoughts raced through his mind that was so unnacustomed to how people and societies functioned - what if no one was there? Or were people just unwanting of visitors? In that case, why was he even trying for admittance? The creak of the opening door found Decimus sweeping a veil of sleek black hair behind his ear. Did he look presentable in the least? The elf realized that he hadn't washed since arriving in Natura. Of course he smelled fine, but did these Ranger people expect him to be polished in meetings?

A small breath escaped his lips as the kindly woman appeared framed in the doorway. She looked friendly enough; maybe he had worried slightly too much for his own good. The lady warmly let him in, and it was with slight hesitance that Decimus stepped over the threshold. The woman - apparently a Ranger, if her cloak (and not to mention demeanor) was anything to go by - offered a greeting. Nervous to speak, Decimus shot her a nod in reply. She showed no signs of further interaction, so the Silrosian allowed his eyes to wander amid the graceful architecture of the Hall. From what Decimus discerned, the building had not been built primarily for the purpose it was serving. Cloaked Rangers flitted about here and there, none offering official greeting. Not wanting to get caught in some form of conversation, Decimus ducked towards a notice tacked up on the wall.

He had learned to read in Schola, and that was where he had polished his common-speak, for the most part. It had always been his mother's wish that he at least get a proper Aelyrian education, so after her death he had indeed sought out a school. Reading lessons were still clear in the elf's mind, so he had no trouble interpreting the sign. Judging by the overview of the society, Decimus would fit in more than ninety percent of people, or so he thought. If there was anything he would do in the future, it would be to become a Ranger. Archery, Healing, Tracking, and the mystifying Druidism all snagged his intent interest. For what profession could be more fulfilling than working alongside nature each and every day?

But for now he could not get himself lost. Decimus had a goal to accomplish.

"Well serale there!" piped a cheery voice from behind. The Silrosian spun around, hand darting towards his shortsword. "The name's Aviat Goodtrack. Is there anything I can help you with on this brightening?"

It was a moment before Decimus' eyes alighted on the diminuitive figure bouncing before him. The elf had never seen anyone with such unruly hair! What a sight! It was a moment before he managed to stutter out anything at all. "S-serale. I am Decimus - Decimus Talior. I assume that this is the esteemed Ranger Hall. Excuse me if I seem foolish, but..." He slipped his shortsword out of its sheath and indicated to the embossed symbol just above the hilt. "I inherited this from my mother on her deathbed, and I was wondering if someone here could tell me of its significance..." The number of the wolves in the room was overwhelming - of course it was significant. The trouble was finding what it meant - and what Andromeda had intended for him.

[Larien Gil'dae]

Furrowing his brow, the halfling man stepped forward as Decimus offered his short sword for inspection. Aviat had to only glance before his eyes alighted upon the embossed wolf head -- the symbol of the Silver Wolves, the Naturan Rangers. Aviat let out a low whistle as he took the short sword from the young man. "Well I'll be... where did you get this? Your mother? What was your mother's name?" The expression dancing through Aviat's eyes was one of extreme curiosity but also of friendly tenderness -- he understood that speaking of his deceased mother might be painful for the young man, and so, the halfling Ranger was prepared to wait for as long as it took for Decimus to open up.

"Of course this has significance, boy. Do you know where you are? Aye, indeed, this is the Ranger Hall... the headquarters for the Silver Wolves of Natura. Your mother must have been one of us to get her hands on this... or she might have been friends with a Ranger... or close to one... what about your father?"

Finally handing Decimus back his short sword, Aviat stepped closer to the young man, his brown eyes squinting as he peered up into his face, almost as though he was trying to see if there was something about his appearance he recognized.

[Decimus Talior]

Decimus looked on intently, scrutinizing the small man's face for any hint of suggestive memory. This meant bowing his head more than usual, something that happened only when the Silrosian peered into a toddler fawn's amber eyes in the wilderness. Seconds ticked by, each testing his patience. In reality, Aviat only paused for a breath, but everything dragged out longer than usual for Decimus; this could be a substantial start as to which direction his life would take.

"Her name?" Decimus murmured, caught off guard. "Andromeda. But I suppose most would know her by Talia - you see, she ran a shop of sorts in our forest home, and clients would refer to her as Talia."

The Silver Wolves...that name had a strange ring to it, as if the elf had heard it before. Where had people talked of it? Was it his mother? Decimus brushed off the thought and returned to Aviat, now slightly grim. "My father either died or fled after my birth, for I have no recollection of him whatsoever. Well, she did mention one name frequently...what was it...Ancerius, I believe. I don't know much else, and I'm sure that's no clue. As for Andromeda being close to a Ranger, my father could have been one for all I know. He could have been a distant Thane and I would not know. Andromeda never left the forest, but kept a strange amount of customers." By this time Aviat might have noticed the visitor referred to his mother by her name, never 'mother.' Decimus himself could not answer this question - perhaps he was just too distant from the habits of modern society.

Decimus paused, realizing that he had begun to ramble on. He was absolutely worthless at this socializing aspect. Give him a sparrow any day, but humans...they were too complex.

Tentatively, he continued. "I always supposed that Andromeda gave me this sword for a reason." The elf accepted his heirloom, staring at it as if searching for something. "Did she wish for me to become...one of you? This all seems less satisfying than I have dreamed it to be."

[Larien Gil'dae]

Aviat furrowed his brow. "Andromeda? Don't know anyone by that name..." But as Decimus revealed his mother had been commonly known by the name Talia, the halfling man clapped his hand to his forehead. "Talia? Talia... oh by the gods, come with me." Starting off at a brisk pace, the Ranger moved through the hall, taking for granted that the other would follow behind him. Aviat's sudden exclamation had drawn more than a few curious stares from the other Silver Wolves within the hall. Their eyes followed the pair as they moved along through the press of people... and straight for the Rangermistress who was lounging at a table with some of the other Silver Wolves.

"Owaten," Aviat murmured respectfully as he ducked his head, his brown eyes flicking towards Decimus as the halfling motioned that the half-elf should show a similar sign of respect for the elven woman before them. Owaten was quite beautiful by human standards, though by those of the elves, she wasn't much to look at. Strawberry blonde hair wisped about her angular face, reaching barely to her pointed chin, while blue eyes stared out from a pale yet strong face. Despite her obvious strength, though, there was a sadness to the Rangermistress's features. The death of her kinsmen in the battle that had been raged within their usually peaceful hometown had left her weaker of spirit than before. She had even been spotted crying on a few occasions.

"Yes, Aviat?" The elven woman lilted, her piercing eyes falling upon first the halfling and then the other man that accompanied him. There her eyes remained as she searched Decimus's face... as though she could peer through his eyes and see his secrets. "This is Talia's boy. He's come home." Owaten's eyebrows lifted upon her brow as she stood from her seat, moving gracefully forward to take Decimus's chin in her hand. She tilted his face downwards so their eyes could fully meet as she continued to study his face, almost as if she was searching for something... whatever she was searching for she must have found, for with a satisfied nod she finally released his chin. "You wish to be a ranger." It was more of a statement than a question, but Owaten waited patiently for Decimus's answer all the same.

[Decimus Talior]

OOC: Sorry, Internet-less vacation. I won't be posting next week at all, so I'll squeeze as many as I can this week. ;-)

IC: The halflings recognition of the name sent Decimus' heart pounding. He knew her. Eyes alight, the Silrosian trailed Aviat anxiously down the hall. Where is he taking me? Someone who knew my mother?

Decimus' heart was positively pounding as they came to face the Rangermistress. She did not stike him as gorgeous, but she had the scars of much experience in her eyes. Upon her assuming he wanted to become a Ranger, Decimus was taken aback. That wasn't what he had come here for, but now that he thought about it...what else would he do with his life? The potions shop was only a small hobby and means of income. Andromeda had always told him that he was destined to serve in life, destined for greatness, something more than your everyday Aelyrian. Was Rangerhood his opportunity for this?

He has come home. Well, this Hall did seem sketched vaguely in Decimus' memory, but home? His home was under the boughs of the forest. It must have been a reference to Talia. So she lived here?

"I - I...suppose so, but...you knew of my mother? Was she here?"

[Larien Gil'dae]

Owaten's intense look faded into one of soft warmth at Decimus's question. "Yes, boy, I knew your mother. She was one of our Rangers, as I'm sure you've gathered by now... we were close. I always knew you'd find your way here." Saying nothing more on the matter, the elven woman looked away, her eyes scanning the hall as though looking for something or someone... or else she just didn't want to meet Decimus's gaze any longer. "So much like the father..." the Rangermistress's voice lilted in the softest of whispers before she turned her attention back to the halfling man before her. "Aviat will guide you," she spoke, directing her words at Decimus though her gaze was still averted.

"Of course, Rangermistress," the halfling responded with another respectful bow of his head before he was backing away and dragging Decimus with him, surprisingly strong for one of his stature. When the two were well out of earshot of Owaten, Aviat pulled Decimus close and whispered for his ears alone, "Owaten and your mother were friends, you see. Close friends... but some things... when your mother..." Looking uncomfortable, Aviat shifted somewhat, his cheery smile having fallen into one of morose discomfort. "They didn't have much contact after your mother left the Rangers."

Reluctant to say more, the halfling man tried to change the subject, though it was a rather poor attempt. "Well if you'd like to come back on the morrow I can get you started with some archery training. How does that sound?"

[Decimus Talior]

Decimus was wary while listening to the Rangermistress. Any flash of emotion might set her into an uncomfortable position. Although a thousand questions exploded into his head, the Silrosian meticulously restrained himself. Some tender times had obviously come between his mother and the elf, so it was probably best left until someone was familiar enough with him to tell him. Decimus gave the Rangermistress a polite nod, as to whether or not she percieved it was uncertain.

Decimus listened closely to Aviat's every word, hopeful for some shred of evidence. What he heard would have to satisfy him for now...

"Tomorrow, then. Thank you, Aviat. Is there anything more you'd like me to know...?"