TDM #10

[calderaevents]

ARRIVAL

It happens in an instant. A heavy weight in your gut, a trembling of your limbs, the world spins and you barely have time to register that you're falling before you lose consciousness. And when you awaken, it's not where you were last. Dark, unadorned oak walls surround you in a tiny room, the only furniture the bed you are currently resting upon, and the bedside table with a folded piece of parchment resting atop it that simply reads:

"The Tavernkeeper is awaiting your arrival downstairs."

As you exit you find others like yourself emerging from the surrounding rooms. You are indeed in a tavern, but there is no hustle and bustle one might think to hear in such a place. The only person down on the main floor is a humanoid figure wiping down the bar, who smiles when they see you. They're familiar, but not, and you can't quite place their face. For some reason, however, their presence is comforting and warm.

"Welcome, Visitor. I'm sure you have a lot of questions."

And you most certainly do.

Due to popular demand, the starter tavern and the drinks provided are available to in game characters via a portal accessible only to those with a faction gem.

DRINK MENU

WINTER'S WHISPER A fragrant spiced tea that calms the nerves and inspires the drinker to share their hopes and dreams.

JINGLE BELL A crisp, bright drink...that makes jingling bell sounds as you walk. There are no bells, and yet you jingle.

S(LAY) RIDE This drink has an earthy, woody taste. Almost as woody as the tavern floor it forces you to lie down upon. You cannot get up unless someone else helps you.

MISTLETOE MEAD Made with honey from enchanted bee hives and a touch of mistletoe leaves. Time to find a smoochin' partner!

HOLLY JOLLY SPICE A bold and fiery blend of rum, cinnamon, and cloves with a secret twist—just a dash of enchanted holly berry syrup that makes your cheeks flush with warmth and your laughter contagious. One sip, and you're the life of the party, even if you're by yourself.

CANDY CANE CRUSH A festive burst of minty sweetness with a cool, refreshing sensation that tingles the tongue. The drinker's mood subtly shifts the color of their surroundings, briefly changing the hues of objects or lights in the room to match their feelings.

GINGERBREAD MAN A thick drink that tastes exactly like a gingerbread cookie. However, candy and other delicious accents start appearing on you as if YOU were the cookie. Is that icing on your nose? Candied cherries in your hair? Gumdrop buttons? But on the bright side, free candy!

CHOOSE YOUR DESTINY

As the effects of your drink wear off, the Tavernkeeper speaks once more:

"It is time, my friends, for you to find your new homes."

You are compelled to walk through the only door leading out of the tavern, finding yourself not outside, but in a deep black, seemingly endless room with five portals arranged in a circle. As the last of you leave and the door closes behind you, gone when you look back again and replaced with nothing but that black void, three of the portals illuminate:

The first portal is surrounded by an almost blinding light, prismatic rainbows shining brightly in the dewy air outside of the tavern. A soft breeze may gently caress you, pulling you toward it. The portal seems to lead to a city in the clouds, airships and winged beings of all sorts soaring through the skies. Of the little bits of visible land, much of it boasts giant waterfalls that look like clouds melting into the land below. The portal calls to those who crave independence and freedom; and especially to anyone that wishes to find the strong bond of a family not forged in blood.

The second portal is encircled by a fairy ring of spotted white capped mushrooms, the faint scent of damp stone and rich earth wafting from within the faint green glow. Peering inside, one can see a sprawling harbor city of gray hewn stone, a melting pot of humanoid beings going about their day, and beyond, rolling green farmland and cottages clustered in small villages. This portal is destined for those who crave stability and solid ground beneath their feet. A simple life, an adventurous one, and everything in between can be found within.

The last portal is adorned with shells and seaweed, the glow of blue around it catching on droplets cascading down the circular opening. Beyond it you see a city housed inside a massive bubble deep under the ocean, spiraling towers encrusted with coral, and a variety of different creatures mingling about the streets. Outside of that bubble, merfolk swim, a massive squid engulfs the view from the portal as it smoothly glides through the water, and schools of fish disperse as it passes. A sanctuary in the sea that calls to those with a hunger for knowledge and a desire to aid those in need. Or perhaps it is the mystery that beckons you - the lure of the unknown in the depths that bids you explore it.

---

Upon following the pull of the breeze through the first portal, you are thrust into the beauty of a lively city that goes by the name of Heaven's Bow. Much of this main city feels exactly as you would expect on a city below, but there are clouds surrounding every direction you look. The walls of buildings are made with light-colored limestone, and buildings are generally built up to heights made even more grandiose by their position in the sky.

The Skyfall Docks are the first thing you notice, boasting hundreds of airships sailing in and out across the clouds with shouts that accompany a typical port city. Just outside is a fantastic market with goods not only from the other regions of Caldera, but from what some shopkeepers claim are other worlds--items sold or left behind by Visitors. Almost anything can be found in the markets if one is willing to look hard enough. Transport to other locations throughout the sky and even to the land or sea can be found here.

If the docks are too lively for you, you may instead find yourself roaming the underbelly of Heaven's Bow and finding brothels and gambling parlors filled with the promise of pleasure and fortune. The guild house for the Sylphs can be found here as well, giving out quests and training to prospective adventurers and guards alike--though none of them seem concerned with the illicit activities that surround them. Perhaps the freedom the Sylphs boast of extends to what others may deem an undesirable activity.

But most curious of all, you find a shimmering opal gemstone in your hand. When placed anywhere on the body, it will transform into a piece of jewelry with the gemstone set in the center.

---

If it was the second portal that called to you, you will find yourself in the busy city of Grey Ward, with its cobblestone streets and sturdy grey stone buildings. You are in the heart of the city, the Glass Market, so named for the colorful stained glass windows of the surrounding buildings. The scent of cooking food and the sound of barkers fills the air; watchful guards keep an eye out for pickpockets and thieves, and citizens go about their day. From here, one can investigate the rest of the city: the Sundown Docks, where both sea and sky faring skips transport people and goods. The Soot Spire, home of inventors and engineers. The Hearthstill, the main residential area. The Downs, a smaller residential area for those with less means.

Outside the city walls, one can explore acres of farmlands to the east and west, or follow Terra's Pass to the less settled areas, but take care. Past the Skyward Range, out in the smaller burrows and villages, the influence of the city guard diminishes quickly, and you'll have to keep your wits about you. Bandits along the road are always a risk, and the wildlife are less controlled by regimented hunting.

In your hand is a gemstone, a brilliantly green emerald that, when placed anywhere on the body, will transform into a piece of jewelry with the gemstone set in the center.

---

If the last portal beckoned you through it, you find yourself within that bubble covered city beneath the sea, the city of Salt Spire. Your ears pop with the change in pressure, and the smell of the salty sea fills your nostrils. All around you buildings made of dark stone encrusted with coral and seagrass tower high above your head, the backdrop outside the dome a deep blue, seemingly endless sea filled with fish and merfolk and all other manner of creature swimming through the water. You stand in the heart of it all, surrounded by people with gils on their necks and scales upon their vibrantly colored skin, all of whom seem intrigued by your arrival. You have many options of where to visit in the city under the sea, but where oh where will you go first?

The Salt Spire Library is right before you, an impossibly large building housing thousands upon thousands of books of all genres. Fiction, non-fiction, romance and mystery and all between. You may even find books from your world and others! Oddly enough though, no Calderan history books are to be found, and if you ask for them, the librarians and locals all choose to ignore your questions.

If scholarly pursuits aren't to your interest currently, perhaps a trip to Bluetide Market would be more your style? The marketplace is host to every manner of shop one might ever need: artisans of all varieties, apothecaries and healers in the Shimmer Quarter, the most in fashion undersea clothing shops, food stalls, and all between can be found in Bluetide. There are also the Tideshore and Fogbottom docks on either end of the city. The former allows transport to the surface via large, magical bubbles for those that cannot hold their breath or make the swim themselves yet. The latter allows people to venture further into the sea. Those without their underwater abilities are offered rebreathers for travel that last for four hours before needing to be replaced.

In your hand is a gemstone, a shining sapphire that, when placed anywhere on the body, will transform into a piece of jewelry with the gemstone set in the center.

---

Visitors in all starter cities are offered a standard home with basic necessities provided (your choice in design, etc.) that can house 1-4 people if they so choose. If you aren't ready for a permanent home yet, there is an inn in Grey Ward, where accommodations and food are free for Visitors.

THE AFTERMATH

When the mysterious moon god attacked, tearing treacherous rifts into the fabric of Caldera. The Star Gods held these rifts open while Visitors bravely stepped up to find and destroy the broken shards of lunar light within them. Thanks to their efforts, the moon was finally pushed back into its rightful place in the sky. The god sentenced to serve their punishment upon the displaced satellite was seemingly torn asunder by the overwhelming power they unleashed in a last, desperate attempt to destroy the world. Nymion dealt the finishing blow in a blinding beam of lightning and a boom of thunder that shook the very earth, then restored the moon, hanging it carefully back where it should be in the sky, albeit now with visible cracks he was unable to fully mend.

The gods were exhausted, but standing. All except one.

As they descended from the chaos where the rifts in reality had once writhed, Triton carried Cordelia in his arms. The Queen of the Seas lay unconscious, her strength spent after holding both her own and Nymion's rifts open long enough for the Visitors to break through. Fortunately, the seas did not erupt into turmoil; Vesper and Triton kept the Undine realm steady, even as Cordelia fell into a deep, uncertain coma.

"Caldera survives another day!" Nymion boomed triumphantly as he and the others touched down. "This calls for a celebration! 'Tis the season, is it not? Enough pouting — Cordelia will rise again, if she is strong enough to."

SEASON OF LIGHT

In the aftermath of this tremendous chaos and effort, feelings of paranoia, exhaustion, and grief linger in the populace, making the people reluctant to celebrate this victory. Once again, the realm has been shaken, and the fear of life or death is not an easy one to brush off.

Yet at Nymion's urging, the locals yield. Perhaps he is right — this is the season meant for unity and hope. Though still wary, they do their best to ensure that the Season of Lights begins as it has in years past. Once more, the people of Caldera sink into the comforting bustle of distraction, fixing their attention on the imminent celebrations. The holiday, reminiscent of Christmas and New Years, brings gift-giving in abundance and decorations of shimmering silver and radiant blue that cast their glow across sky, sea, and land in harmonious splendor.

One of the season's highlights is the grand Feast of the Sky, a night when the people gather beneath a star-filled canopy to exchange gifts and share a meal. In the days leading up to the feast, families and friends take part in a tradition known as "Lightwalking," embarking on midnight strolls through lantern-lit streets, singing carols, drinking hot cocoa and cider, and sharing stories of hope and renewal. Even the seafaring vessels join in the light show, their sails and rigging adorned with glowing orbs that drift like stars across the water.

Above all, the Season of Lights is a celebration of resilience — a time when the people of Caldera set aside their worries, if only briefly, and bask in the glow of community, generosity, and the promise of brighter days ahead, especially now that the threat of the moon has been vanquished.

THE GRAND MASQUERADE

Another highlight of the season is the Grand Masquerade that unfolds high above the world in Heaven's Bow, the floating city where the wind dances in the sky and the stars seem close enough to touch. The moon, thankfully, is no longer that close. The event is more than just a celebration of the Season of Lights — it's a gathering of hope, a focus on light during dark and uncertain times. Here among the clouds, the people of Caldera and the heroic Visitors from other worlds come together in a shimmering, ethereal celebration, their faces hidden behind elaborate masks and appropriately fancy dress provided with instantaneous magic when one steps through the threshold of the castle gates.

The gleaming silver palace at the heart of Heaven's Bow is a breathtaking sight, its walls adorned with shiny blue decorations that catch the light from thousands of lanterns floating in mid-air. The sky above is painted with the colors of dusk, swirling in a palette of purples, blues, and silvers.

Sylphs — the free-spirited, airborn people of the Sky — flutter about, their wings glinting in the light, performing acrobatic feats in the air and playing beautiful, floating melodies on lyres. Their laughter and music mingles with the sounds of the celebration. The atmosphere is that of a sigh of relief, a dissolution of tension; the laughter echoing through the palace halls is tired but genuine, the chatter between friends is that of gratitude that they made it through all right.

FLIGHTS OF FANCY

In the grand hall, there are long tables laden with lavish finger foods and desserts, the plates interspersed with baubles of iridescent glass. A round table off to the side has a tower of champagne glasses with sparkling wine, and it appears to be a custom to pair up, make a heartfelt toast, and link arms with your partner to drain your glass. This wine has mild magical effects, making your form glow faintly and your voice take on an airy, musical quality, which may charm those around you, and slowly turns the din of the party into a symphony as the night goes on. You may also find that you are lighter on your feet, enough to even float off the ground a little as thought gravity has lessened, and it may give you the urge to dance.

And as for dancing, there is a gorgeous ballroom floor that gleams with silver and blue polished tile. The dances of the locals echo the sylph's graceful flight through the air, with languid, flowing movements and a freestyle form of step, letting the music move them across the floor. However, there is the occasional livelier song, where the Calderans will push you into the closest person to partner up for a complicated and jovial traditional dance. Keeping up seems to be optional- there is plenty of laughter and no judgment if you falter in the steps. Finally, a slow dance brings couples together more intimately, holding each other with a renewed sense of love, knowing now that nothing here can be taken for granted.

WRITTEN IN THE STARS

If dancing isn't your thing, you notice that curiously, there's a stream of Calderans leading out of the great hall, and if you follow them, you will find yourself outside in front of a large crystal dome. Welcoming folks inside is none other than Nymion, the showboating Star God himself, who singles out Visitors entering with a special little quest:

"Hey, not a bad job you guys did with those rifts. Couldn't have saved it without your help, but don't tell anyone I said that. Anyway, I'm still looking for exceptional talents in this world, and I've yet to be truly wowed. You up for a challenge? Yeah, of course you are, that's what I thought. Come on, champ!"

He claps you on the back a little too hard and ushers you inside. Upon entering the dome, you discover it's a gorgeous planetarium, so realistic that it feels unnervingly like you're floating in space. In here, Visitors are granted the magical ability to create stars and form constellations in this space. Nymion wants you to create something truly show-stopping, name it, and present it to him. If you're having trouble getting the creative juices flowing, it may help to work as a team with a fellow Visitor. If he likes it, he may just make your constellation real.

QUESTBOARD [NEW QUESTS ADDED]

Settled in? Good. It's time to make your way to the Questboard located in every city in numerous, easy to access locations. That is, if you want to make any kind of impact on the world or just get some Bones for anything you might wish to purchase. Visitors are given a very small stipend in which to survive every month, but all it does is keep you fed and housed. These quests will assure you greater wealth, and they're the main reason you're here: each finished quest helps the Calderans fix their shattering world.

Quests can be accepted at the questboard via magically signed parchment upon the board. Just sign your name to accept and the paper will be whisked away... somewhere. You're not actually sure. Probably nothing to concern yourself with.

Once quests are completed, earned Bones will be dropped off at the character's residence by Bonita, the mysterious artisan who has supposedly handcrafted every Bone circulating in Caldera. Please do not speak to her, she startles easily.

OOC NOTES

Welcome to Caldera's 10th TDM! All characters awaken in a strange tavern with nothing save the clothes on their backs, all of their powers stripped, and a piece of parchment directing them downstairs to the Tavernkeeper. There is a thread of all questions answered by the Tavernkeeper here, and if you have more, feel free to ask there for what would be offered ICly.

◾For OOC questions, please direct themhere.

◾All locations are available to be explored!

◾The TDM is game canon and all completed quests can be carried over once accepted into the game.

◾All constellations crafted by Visitors will be visible in the night sky unless specified otherwise.

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Comments

Re: Season of Light

[lettersfrombel]

"There's no shame in getting hurt, even if this is an unusual injury," Bel said. "Forget all the things I said about blaming myself for my own injuries." Because Bel was not brought up to consider 'there's no shame in getting hurt'; it was very much a 'you should have been better than you were, obviously'.

Bel tilted his head, considering, "Do you think it's something we can buy back with Bones again, or is it something else? Because I don't mind going out questing with you."

Re: Season of Light

[altanhawke]

Altan half-grimaces in a flat unspoken ‘thanks’. He appreciates the kind words, but they still feel cloying, and as vulnerable as he’s making himself he’s not yet the kind of man who can gracefully accept such sincerity.

When Bel suggests they quest together Altan in a short series of beats starts to look cleverly thoughtful, as a man presented with an unexpected escape might, before his lips thin in alarm and anger. “Why should I be able to b - If it was eaten by whatever monsters it was Vesper was fighting off, what’s the point of trying to b -? That’s like going crying to a circus ringmaster because you stuck an arm in the tiger’s cage and got it chewed off.”

Re: Season of Light

[lettersfrombel]

"Except the circus ringmaster was the one who asked you to get in the cage to help," Bel said. "Even if nothing can be done... they owe you something."

Bel found he is much more likely to get angry on other people's behalf. Because he has been told to suck it up so often that he has to remind himself he doesn't have to, but other people... they deserve better.

Re: Season of Light

[altanhawke]

Altan’s anger is starting to simmer off of him like a heat haze from sun-baked stones.

“It’s clear that the Admirals will do whatever they think is best,” he says, “although given that their decision making includes Nymion’s - ‘Hello, yes, Admiral Nymion? I know I was technically Admiral Aella’s man and I haven’t had a good word for you, but I left my magic behind in a bad dream, so leave off whatever you’re doing to help your other star-gods and give one of your many footsoldiers a boon. Although you’ll just use me as another warm body the next time you nearly get us all killed’.”

Re: Season of Light

[lettersfrombel]

"Alas that we can't just sneak in and steal it back," Bel said. "Especially since one of the other Sylphs got a meeting last month, and actually got some answers. Apparently Nymion is here to judge the others on how they are doing with this whole 'managing a world' thing. Gods know why the people he's affiliated sent him, unless they were equally eager to get him out of their hair."

Or else Nymion was literally the only option for someone similar enough to keep Heaven's Bow from crashing into the ground, and the 'getting rid of a cocky asshole' was just a fringe benefit.

Re: Season of Light

[altanhawke]

“I’d think that whoever-it-is would be satisfied with the other Admirals,” Altan says with his usual thin veil of blithe disaffection which still does not well hide how interested he is in the wheelings and dealings of those with power over him. “Given how many demons have been trying to break through the barriers of Caldera and eat us all,” he lapses back into the terminology of a Thedosian, “and how few Visitors have been sacrificed to stop it. Although frankly given Nymion’s entire personality I’d sooner have had them put a few of us in charge of Heaven’s Bow and see how we run the place.”

Despite his lingering fatigue, there’s a glint of ambition in Altan’s eye.

Re: Season of Light

[lettersfrombel]

"Gods know we've done a good job of organizing ourselves," Bel noted. "But... coming back to you, let me know what I can do, if not quests or making sure you stay fed."

Re: Season of Light

[altanhawke]

Altan makes a half-embarrassed waving-off gesture, as uncomfortable with the offer as he is grateful for it but not so churlish as to reject it outright. “I still mean it about teaching you magic,” he says, almost in a rush. “The theory and magic don’t need me to be able to do it myself.”

Re: Season of Light

[lettersfrombel]

"Good. Because, you're right. If I can get magic here, I am going to need it. And that means learning from someone rather than trying to figure it out myself. If I had more practice, maybe I would have been able to fight things off before I fell."

Bel takes another bite of his food. He shouldn't let it get cold. After washing it down with a drink, he adds. "I wasn't sure how to bring it up without making it seem like I only wanted to help you with your magic so you'd teach me."

Re: Season of Light

[altanhawke]

“At least Caldera for all the times we’ve been conscripted,” Altan says with a sort of forced lightness, glad for the distraction from his worries and his mood, “the place has got to have the best wards known to man. I’ve seen plenty of things that look like abominations, going about their days, but they seem like nice enough fellows or ladies; back in Kirkwall a new mage would risk possession so much as sneezing.”

At Bel’s half-apology, Altan smiles the most genuine smile that Bel’s seen that day. “Don’t worry about it. I like feeling useful. Can’t think of a better way, right now, unless Nymion’s looking for a successor …”

Re: Season of Light

[lettersfrombel]

"I can't say that we had much problem with possession back home," Bel said. "Plenty of other ways to muck with someone's mind besides a spirit taking control of them, of course."

Re: Season of Light

[altanhawke]

"Lots of blood magic, then?"

Re: Season of Light

[lettersfrombel]

"What we'd call enchantment magic," Bel said. "Some of it is handy, like having a cleric or bard make you just a little bit more focused in a fight. A lot of it is fucking with other people's head."

Re: Season of Light

[altanhawke]

Altan seems genuinely interested in the comparison of magical techniques across worlds. “‘Fucking with other people’s heads’ - if you’re doing it by magic instead of by being obnoxious - is considered blood magic in Thedas. More illegal than knifing that person or setting them on fire. Still, people do it in Tevinter, People do a lot of things in Tevinter.” Like most Southern mages, Altan knows less about Tevinter than he thinks he does.

Re: Season of Light

[lettersfrombel]

"Illegal on most of the Sword Coast too," Bel added. "Where I grow up... it depended on how much power you had and if you got caught. We were generally the people sensible people didn't want to associate with."

Bel had generally made it clear that while he generally was at least somewhat cynical about power in general, it was shaped by his birth culture not seeing the need to justify what the powerful did.

"Not my style, anyway. If I can't talk my way out of trouble, better to run or fight, and magic can be used for those."

Re: Season of Light

[altanhawke]

“The people sensible people didn’t want to associate with? And a second-story man. Yeah, that sounds familiar.”

“Certainly, but.” Altan summons a wisp into his palm and looks sadly and wistfully at it. “That kind of subtle magic is often a lie. And I use it too, sleight of hand is a man’s best friend … The magic I know, the magic I learned from my father, is the magic of mending a body or crops, or the magic of … fire. Not always subtle stuff.” He meets Bel’s eyes. “Are you still willing to learn it?”

Re: Season of Light

[lettersfrombel]

Bel nodded. "Fire is versatile. And back home, few people can manage healing without assistance from the gods." Bel didn't understand the nuances of magic, but he knew bards had a small ability to heal, but other arcane magic users couldn't manage it. He'd once asked his older brother, but the explanation quickly descended into the technical... and then, seeing he'd lost Bel, Kyor had shrugged and said that even if wizards could heal with magic, among the drow, Lolth's clergy would never allow them to learn it.

Re: Season of Light

[altanhawke]

“Huh. The Chantry would’ve killed for it to be that way.” Literally, he was sure.

“Actually I don’t think I asked how you got the magic in the first place?”

Re: Season of Light

[altanhawke]

“Huh. The Chantry would’ve killed for it to be that way.” Literally, he was sure.

“Actually I don’t think I asked how you got the magic in the first place?” In a different context, he would have been nearly vibrating with excitement over the prospect of sharing this new world with a friend, but he’s still keenly curious.

Re: Season of Light

[lettersfrombel]

"Paid Bones to Aella after I realized that my normal strategy of 'many knives' wasn't cutting it," Bel said. "Well, that and I was afraid of falling off a cliff when I was living in Heaven's Bow. All drow have a bit of an affinity for light and darkness magic, but most of us can just create light or block it. I'm no exception."

Re: Season of Light

[altanhawke]

Altan seems a bit quietly shocked at the prospect of buying magic. “Huh. Huh.” He serves himself some bites to metaphorically chew this over, before eventually saying, “so, I saw you use some - lightning, right? What else did you buy?”

Re: Season of Light

[lettersfrombel]

"More light. And the ability to grow wings." Bel is kind of sheepish. "A lot of people picked up shape-changing, but even the wings feel a bit odd. I just am willing to deal with it in exchange for not falling."

All the more after getting hurt in a fall in the rifts.

"It does feel odd to not have to do anything besides the quests for it. Back home, even the benign gods want your service in payment for magic. And don't even ask about fiends or the fae."

Re: Season of Light

[altanhawke]

“I won’t ask about the fiends,” Altan says. He means to speak dryly, but his tired eyes have begun to take on their usual dark warmth with something like awe; it’s an affect he wears often when encountering new magic. “Got plenty of those back in Thedas. Some of them even had magic. - Gods, though, and the ‘fae’,” his use of the word makes it clear it’s a new one in his mouth, “if you met one claiming to be anything but a demon or a dream …”

He bends to eating for a few more long moments, very clearly chewing over something that he wants to say but that he’s worried might be embarrassing. Then he looks back up and rubs his hand over the back of his neck. “These wings. Could I - see them - ?”

Re: Season of Light

[lettersfrombel]

Bel smiles. "Of course. I'm going to have to stand up. Even given they're magic, they're pretty large." He's been making decent headway on eating, so it's not going to let the food get cold.

He considers. Technically his shirts now have some pleats and slits in the back to allow for the wings to appear without him getting them caught in the fabric, but he's also in the mood to show off.

So Bel stands up, and undoes the ties on his shirt, so he can pull it over his head. Altan might notice that the same gold markings on Bel's face are similar to ones on his torso, but those look more like painted scars, some of which sit below his skin. "Ready?"

Re: Season of Light

[altanhawke]

Altan smiles, perhaps a little shy, in his own way; which tends to express itself for him through a boyish ebullience. “Until now I’ve seen it all -.” He braces a foot against the table to push the chair out to secure a better view of Bel’s wings.