Velho
Approved Character
- Messages
- 200
- Race
- Æld'Norai
- Profession
- Ferrier
- Location
- AElheim
- Arcana
- Character Sheet
༺༉❁ Previously ❁༉༻
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<notes>
Outside of his job, Velho was prone to sort of sticking his head in the sand with regards to the happenings of the world around him. Still, because of his job, he often heard rumors, tales, and whispers of various goings on. And somehow, one such story he managed to overhear was about a dragon youngling, one who'd recently returned from the woods to receive the title of Drækr. What caught Velho's attention in particular, however, was the nature of the youngling's Three-Among-Many; that being that he Governs Anathema, Seeks Blood, Embodies Bats.
The Governed and Embodied were interesting, but the standout, to him, was the Sought. The Devorari proceeded to voice this interest to others of his ilk, and they informed him that a few of them had already started keeping tabs on the little drake.
'Skrípi Mare Ævergreen, that's his name, right? Have any of you spoken with him?'
Velho had asked them, though the answer didn't surprise him: no.
'Could I?'
He had inquired of them, and their answer did delight him: yes.
To Velho's great convenience, the dragonling had taken a shine to Hespæria of late, favoring its gloomy glow. Not only did Velho feel much the same, but given the state of his health, he didn't quite enjoy traveling that far from the mires of his home. The only trick, then, would be arranging a serendipitous meeting that wouldn't give the dragon the impression that he had an ulterior motive.
And, serendipitously, Velho needn't ponder that quandary for long, for young Skrípi ended up seeking him out first.
Early in the evening near the end of an uneventful winter, there was a knock at the door of Själasalr. Well, less of a knock and more of a bizarre scratching sound that only vaguely resembled something a civilized person might consider 'knocking.' This confused the sveinn that was charged with greeting those that knocked at first, but then when she peered out the window and saw a small, bizarre dragon, she supposed that the noise made sense.
Opening the door, the dragon cocked his head at the woman curiously, but said absolutely nothing.
The two stared at each other for an uncomfortable few seconds, the somewhat bewildered sveinn not entirely sure what to say– something about the look in the dragon's eye had befuddled her. She blinked, regaining her senses.
"Sorry, may I help you?" She eventually managed to ask.
"Might I speak with the one who runs this place?" The dragonling inquired.
The sveinn's lips flattened. "Perhaps...but what would I tell him it is that you seek? And your name, please?"
"I am Skrípi Mare Ævergreen~" the dragon chirped back, "I…want to understand what a Ferrier is."
The sveinn looked amused, a soft smile drawing itself upon her lips.
"Is that so? I'll let him know of your interest, then," she paused for a moment, "ah…would you mind waiting outside…?"
The dragon's murderous little hands would ruin the upholstery and claw up the wood, she feared.
Skrípi's birdlike features almost appeared to frown in their own, strange way, but he did understand the concern.
"I suppose…" he trailed off.
The woman bowed her head, "...my apologies; you needn't wait long, I assure you."
This was a notably unusual sort of interaction, even for a business that deals solely in death set into a culture steeped so heavily in life. She spent the small walk up the stairs and through the corridors to find her master thinking about how exactly she ought to even relay the dragon's request. How does one actively portray the dragon's intentions? What even are the dragon's intentions, really?
When she arrived outside of Velho's study, she knocked. For a moment, there was silence, and then her master's voice.
"...yes?" he called back.
"A client, master," she answered.
"What sort of job?"
"Ah…mind if I come in? It's, er…non-standard," she really didn't quite know what to say, but speaking through a door wasn't pleasant.
"Sure, sure…"
Velho preferred that, too. Yelling for him wasn't quite comfortable. And so the sveinn would enter and briefly bow.
"Um, a strange dragonling– he called himself Skrípi Mare Ævergreen;"
The name immediately caught Velho's attention.
"He inquired as for learning about what Ferriment is? I suppose it's not something the dragons really teach one another, so I can understand the curiosity…apologies if this is beneath you, master," she explained somewhat sheepishly.
"Nay, nay– full glad am I that you didn't send him away, even. Thank you, I'll meet with him right away," the Ferrier's response was perhaps out of character with regards to how chipper he sounded.
"Ah! Not to worry, I figured the novelty would stand out to you, at least," she replied with a small smile, watching as her master stood.
She was genuinely a bit befuddled by his enthusiasm, like a light had lit behind the man's cold, tired eyes all the sudden, but it was not her place to question him. Maybe he was curious about dragons, as the dragon was curious about him…? She could only wonder.
When Velho arrived at the doorway, the sveinn stepped aside, allowed him to pass through, and closed the door behind them both. She bowed her head at him, "I'll be on my way, then."
And to that, he nodded.
What a strange, serendipitous coincidence, the Ferrier thought to himself.
When he made it down from the third floor to the first, through the hallways to the lobby and then to the front door, it had been about ten minutes that the little dragon had been waiting. He was standing outside on his hind legs, flicking his tail about impatiently, watching the lightning bugs flit by in the air 'round him. When the door opened, however, his head snapped to attention, his gaze fixated on the strange, sickly figure that emerged.
"Ooh, you're the Ferrier, are you?" The young dragon asked, attempting in vain to stop his tail from appearing to wag. "You're exactly like what I expected!" Skrípi added, sounding giddy.
That was a first for Velho. To most, his appearance was a shock.
"...really?" the Ferrier replied. "Most are immediately concerned by my appearance, not excited," he almost laughed.
"Ohh, I…well, yes, you Æld'Norai are usually pictures of health. But I've seen Reykr! He's…withered, looks ancient and dying; and he was the first among you. I figured you might be withered, too! …but you're not quite as decayed," the last line stated with a scrutinizing tilt to his head.
"You have, have you…? Very perceptive, then," he paused for a second.
"Ah, is that what got you interested in the subject? Reykr?"
"Yes…but he's busy, and…likely a little unraveled…and…in Ælfiríki. You're younger, and you're here." Skrípi spoke quickly with strange, short pauses.
He breathed in, then continued, "...and your mother's reputation is fascinating. Therefore, you must be fascinating."
The way he spoke was almost overwhelming.
"Then I hope I won't disappoint you," Velho replied with a nod.
"You could come along with me the next time I am to perform a local Ferriment…?"
Velho's offer was met with delighted, sparkling eyes.
"YES." Skrípi nodded vigorously.
The Ferrier had to try not to laugh, endearing as the little dragon was.
"Alright, and how would I contact you?"
An important question, surely, but the dragon didn't appear to have an immediate answer. He tilted his head in thought, his twisting like an owl's as his tail lifted him off the ground.
"Ummm…what if…what if I just hang around in the boughs of your house? It's…cozy up there." Skrípi's suggestion was voiced somewhat sheepishly.
His bashfulness, perhaps, was due to the fact that he'd been hiding within the boughs of the tree for a few days now, trying to figure out how to make this request in the first place. And somehow, he'd managed to escape the notice of Velho that entire time. Some of the sveinn had spotted him, but since the dragon wasn't being a nuisance, they'd left him well enough alone.
"So when the time comes I'll seek you out then; just be sure to linger close by if that is your intent." Velho's agreement only made the dragon's glee all the more palpable.
It was, for a man as exhausted and prone to melancholy as Velho, nigh overwhelming. Part of him wanted to be disgusted, but a much larger part of him found it incredibly…cute? Yes, yes…cute. That was the accurate word.
Perhaps out of an inability to contain his excitement, Skrípi flew up into the air and his long, serpentine body rolled in a forward circle; the sounds he made were similar to the squeal of a bat– but that was hardly surprising, given that which he Embodied.
"See you soon then, I hope~" the dragon spoke in a notably strange, distortedly high pitch this time. Likely warped because of the spinning, maybe because he was too excited to modulate his tone…?
Velho nodded, then turned around and went back inside. When the door closed, he sighed; what exactly had he just agreed to?
The Governed and Embodied were interesting, but the standout, to him, was the Sought. The Devorari proceeded to voice this interest to others of his ilk, and they informed him that a few of them had already started keeping tabs on the little drake.
'Skrípi Mare Ævergreen, that's his name, right? Have any of you spoken with him?'
Velho had asked them, though the answer didn't surprise him: no.
'Could I?'
He had inquired of them, and their answer did delight him: yes.
To Velho's great convenience, the dragonling had taken a shine to Hespæria of late, favoring its gloomy glow. Not only did Velho feel much the same, but given the state of his health, he didn't quite enjoy traveling that far from the mires of his home. The only trick, then, would be arranging a serendipitous meeting that wouldn't give the dragon the impression that he had an ulterior motive.
And, serendipitously, Velho needn't ponder that quandary for long, for young Skrípi ended up seeking him out first.
•════════════════════• february 09 year 123 of the third age
Early in the evening near the end of an uneventful winter, there was a knock at the door of Själasalr. Well, less of a knock and more of a bizarre scratching sound that only vaguely resembled something a civilized person might consider 'knocking.' This confused the sveinn that was charged with greeting those that knocked at first, but then when she peered out the window and saw a small, bizarre dragon, she supposed that the noise made sense.
Opening the door, the dragon cocked his head at the woman curiously, but said absolutely nothing.
The two stared at each other for an uncomfortable few seconds, the somewhat bewildered sveinn not entirely sure what to say– something about the look in the dragon's eye had befuddled her. She blinked, regaining her senses.
"Sorry, may I help you?" She eventually managed to ask.
"Might I speak with the one who runs this place?" The dragonling inquired.
The sveinn's lips flattened. "Perhaps...but what would I tell him it is that you seek? And your name, please?"
"I am Skrípi Mare Ævergreen~" the dragon chirped back, "I…want to understand what a Ferrier is."
The sveinn looked amused, a soft smile drawing itself upon her lips.
"Is that so? I'll let him know of your interest, then," she paused for a moment, "ah…would you mind waiting outside…?"
The dragon's murderous little hands would ruin the upholstery and claw up the wood, she feared.
Skrípi's birdlike features almost appeared to frown in their own, strange way, but he did understand the concern.
"I suppose…" he trailed off.
The woman bowed her head, "...my apologies; you needn't wait long, I assure you."
This was a notably unusual sort of interaction, even for a business that deals solely in death set into a culture steeped so heavily in life. She spent the small walk up the stairs and through the corridors to find her master thinking about how exactly she ought to even relay the dragon's request. How does one actively portray the dragon's intentions? What even are the dragon's intentions, really?
When she arrived outside of Velho's study, she knocked. For a moment, there was silence, and then her master's voice.
"...yes?" he called back.
"A client, master," she answered.
"What sort of job?"
"Ah…mind if I come in? It's, er…non-standard," she really didn't quite know what to say, but speaking through a door wasn't pleasant.
"Sure, sure…"
Velho preferred that, too. Yelling for him wasn't quite comfortable. And so the sveinn would enter and briefly bow.
"Um, a strange dragonling– he called himself Skrípi Mare Ævergreen;"
The name immediately caught Velho's attention.
"He inquired as for learning about what Ferriment is? I suppose it's not something the dragons really teach one another, so I can understand the curiosity…apologies if this is beneath you, master," she explained somewhat sheepishly.
"Nay, nay– full glad am I that you didn't send him away, even. Thank you, I'll meet with him right away," the Ferrier's response was perhaps out of character with regards to how chipper he sounded.
"Ah! Not to worry, I figured the novelty would stand out to you, at least," she replied with a small smile, watching as her master stood.
She was genuinely a bit befuddled by his enthusiasm, like a light had lit behind the man's cold, tired eyes all the sudden, but it was not her place to question him. Maybe he was curious about dragons, as the dragon was curious about him…? She could only wonder.
When Velho arrived at the doorway, the sveinn stepped aside, allowed him to pass through, and closed the door behind them both. She bowed her head at him, "I'll be on my way, then."
And to that, he nodded.
What a strange, serendipitous coincidence, the Ferrier thought to himself.
When he made it down from the third floor to the first, through the hallways to the lobby and then to the front door, it had been about ten minutes that the little dragon had been waiting. He was standing outside on his hind legs, flicking his tail about impatiently, watching the lightning bugs flit by in the air 'round him. When the door opened, however, his head snapped to attention, his gaze fixated on the strange, sickly figure that emerged.
"Ooh, you're the Ferrier, are you?" The young dragon asked, attempting in vain to stop his tail from appearing to wag. "You're exactly like what I expected!" Skrípi added, sounding giddy.
That was a first for Velho. To most, his appearance was a shock.
"...really?" the Ferrier replied. "Most are immediately concerned by my appearance, not excited," he almost laughed.
"Ohh, I…well, yes, you Æld'Norai are usually pictures of health. But I've seen Reykr! He's…withered, looks ancient and dying; and he was the first among you. I figured you might be withered, too! …but you're not quite as decayed," the last line stated with a scrutinizing tilt to his head.
"You have, have you…? Very perceptive, then," he paused for a second.
"Ah, is that what got you interested in the subject? Reykr?"
"Yes…but he's busy, and…likely a little unraveled…and…in Ælfiríki. You're younger, and you're here." Skrípi spoke quickly with strange, short pauses.
He breathed in, then continued, "...and your mother's reputation is fascinating. Therefore, you must be fascinating."
The way he spoke was almost overwhelming.
"Then I hope I won't disappoint you," Velho replied with a nod.
"You could come along with me the next time I am to perform a local Ferriment…?"
Velho's offer was met with delighted, sparkling eyes.
"YES." Skrípi nodded vigorously.
The Ferrier had to try not to laugh, endearing as the little dragon was.
"Alright, and how would I contact you?"
An important question, surely, but the dragon didn't appear to have an immediate answer. He tilted his head in thought, his twisting like an owl's as his tail lifted him off the ground.
"Ummm…what if…what if I just hang around in the boughs of your house? It's…cozy up there." Skrípi's suggestion was voiced somewhat sheepishly.
His bashfulness, perhaps, was due to the fact that he'd been hiding within the boughs of the tree for a few days now, trying to figure out how to make this request in the first place. And somehow, he'd managed to escape the notice of Velho that entire time. Some of the sveinn had spotted him, but since the dragon wasn't being a nuisance, they'd left him well enough alone.
"So when the time comes I'll seek you out then; just be sure to linger close by if that is your intent." Velho's agreement only made the dragon's glee all the more palpable.
It was, for a man as exhausted and prone to melancholy as Velho, nigh overwhelming. Part of him wanted to be disgusted, but a much larger part of him found it incredibly…cute? Yes, yes…cute. That was the accurate word.
Perhaps out of an inability to contain his excitement, Skrípi flew up into the air and his long, serpentine body rolled in a forward circle; the sounds he made were similar to the squeal of a bat– but that was hardly surprising, given that which he Embodied.
"See you soon then, I hope~" the dragon spoke in a notably strange, distortedly high pitch this time. Likely warped because of the spinning, maybe because he was too excited to modulate his tone…?
Velho nodded, then turned around and went back inside. When the door closed, he sighed; what exactly had he just agreed to?
