The Court of the King in Rags

[Recaiden]

"Understood."
Yone turns away from the throne and-
-is already far away.
There is a sense in which this court must be fairly small, but it does seem to go on forever.

She starts to hurry to catch up to the imp.
"Okay, one more stop. Hold on tight."

[Shadowcaller]

[Cat Chariot]

The imp just goes around the corner of the entrance and Yone will find her on the ground, panting, while leaning with her hand pressed against the building. "Ancs damn you if they're anything like..." The imp takes a deep breath rather than finishing that sentence. "Just please tell me that they're better."

[Recaiden]

Yone tries to pick the imp up with one limb and put her in the chariot. There's no time to waste.
"Oh, don't worry. They should be much nicer. We're seeing the mortals next."

She'll wait a while for the imp to recover from that spooky place.
Although personally, getting out of this swamp as fast as possible would feel the most comforting.
And then, up and away!

[flat_footed]

The Fullmetal Mod: Thread renewed.

[Morty]

[A Murky Swamp]

Thunder can be heard in the distance as Ambrosia approaches the forest she had came to know housed the swamp that she had been looking for.

She pauses a moment to gaze up at the black clouds which are coming in overhead, the scholar standing underneath the very tip of the storm. But then, without any further hesitation, she walks inside and disappears among the trees.

Now let's see if she could find this 'king'...

"This sure looks welcoming," Thariza says as she walks alongside Ambrosia, amidst the trees. The air around them is silent and humid. Nothing living seems to be nearby. "But from what we've heard of the guy who lives here, it's appropriate."

[Shadowcaller]

[A Murky Swamp]

Ambrosia nods. "Yes, and unfortunately I'm not going to make our visit much better." She gestures up at the sky and right then Thariza can feel a raindrop fall on her, shortly followed by another and then it starts to pour down on the two.

Thankfully, Ambrosia seems to have brought along a large umbrella that she pulls up and out. Almost like she had been prepared for this very occasion. "Since I'm afraid that's my doing. I assure you I have good reasons for it though." It might get a tad cramped underneath the umbrella if Thariza seeks cover under it though. As no matter how big it is their difference in height will force Thariza to nearly completely hunker down underneath it.

[Morty]

[A Murky Swamp]

Thariza will opt to carry the umbrella herself, since she can cover both of them with it much more easily. And she's no stranger to marching in the rain, as much as she complains.

"This time we don't have a column of tanks that can get stuck in the mud for six hours, so it could be worse. Why are you making it rain, though?" It doesn't surprise her that Ambrosia can do it. She's a dragon, dragons have weird powers.

[Shadowcaller]

[A Murky Swamp]

Ambrosia will hand it over so the charr won't have to cower underneath it.
But her question might not get the straight answer she might have been hoping for. "My domain is storms and since this is his." She gestures at the swamp around them. "I'm making sure our meeting will be on more neutral terms."

Lighting strikes in the distance and thunder can soon be heard again. Wasn't too far off this time but at least the moist air will make it unlikely to start a fire.

[Morty]

[A Murky Swamp]

"Right. We're in his gloomy swamp but under a storm you've conjured. Maybe that does even out somehow." It seems Thariza understood more than Ambrosia expected. "I'm not used to this. Ascalon is pretty dry. I think it wasn't before the Flame Legion burned it, but..."

As the Charr speaks, something finally breaks the silence of the swamp. One of the trees seems to move slightly and the knots and gnarls on it almost seem to resemble a face. And the creaking of its branches in an unseen and unfelt wind forms words.

"Were you here on accident, you would have turned back by now. What do you seek here."

[Shadowcaller]

[A Murky Swamp]

It isn't particularly silent in the rain and thunder is it?
Still, Ambrosia raises her hand to call for Thariza to be quiet as she heard the voice.

It takes her a moment to even spot the face in the tree, though she still gives it a polite not before she starts to address it. "We seek an audience with the king of this place." No names yet, false or true.

[Morty]

[A Murky Swamp]

"And why do you seek the king? Come to ask a boon of him? Or challenge him?"

Good question, Thariza thinks, but she says nothing. If the lord of this place is as old as Ambrosia said he is, he's bound to know a lot. Such is the fate of scholars, to plunge headlong where other people would rather not go.

[Shadowcaller]

[A Murky Swamp]

Ambrosia shakes her head. "Neither. We are scholars on a quest of knowledge. We ask of nothing but to ask a few questions and it will be up to your king if he wishes to answer them or not."

[Morty]

[A Murky Swamp]

"Questions? How curious. Keep going the way you were. You will reach the King's demesne."

The tree seems to shift slightly and the face-like patterns on it vanish. The sounds of the rain and thunder reign once more.

"Reminds me of what I've heard about Sylvari. Only those stories are probably mostly made up," Thariza observes.

[Shadowcaller]

[A Murky Swamp]

Ambrosia nods to the tree-face only to see that it's gone. Well then.
"As in tree people?" She asks as she turns back to Thariza. "Please do tell me about them as we walk." After all, Thariza now wielded the umbrella.

[Morty]

[A Murky Swamp]

"They're plant people. Born from a tree, the say. I've seen some in the Black Citadel. Their whole species is like twenty five years old. They can manipulate plants and seem to make their homes and tools out of them. But I've never been to their home city."

As they walk, the trees eventually reveal what looks like the court itself. An old building with rough stone walls, its roof made out of twisting black brambles raising from the ground.

[Shadowcaller]

[A Murky Swamp]

"Twenty years? That is an awfully short time for an entire species." Ambrosia agrees with a thoughful nod. "It reminds me of another project I need to start at some point. Did you know that the dragons of my world, unlike your own, have only been alive for a couple of hundred years?" A rethorical question obviously.

"But then they disappeared as quickly as they had appeared. But during that relatively short timespan they had a huge cultural impact on the societies they interacted with and even served as the foundation for others." The scholar looks to the old building they find themselves in front of. "This feels like the opposite of that though." She gestures at it.

"Just look at the place it made its home. It's a stone building in the middle of a swamp. I'm sure you of all people would know why you make a building out of stone rather than wood?" Her gaze flickers to Thariza.

She nods at Thariza's answer. "Wood is easier to build with but stone, or the metal your people use, makes for a more durable building. Though why do you think whoever build this wanted to make sure it was dureble? It doesn't seem to be protecting anything or anyone out here so it can't be a fortress. In fact, it seems more symbolic than anything else don't you think? A religious building perhaps?" Ambrosia suggests, clearly aluding to something.

"So I believe it was made not to endure attacks but time. Perhaps it was the center of something grand at one point but now it seems to have lost all its relevance. The land around it is nothing but a swamp of death and decay without as much as animals living in it. The only adherances we've seen so far being trees that probably are almost as old as itself. The building itself might still stand but everything that actually made it important is long gone considering there are no signs of anyone going here at all. Like something desperately trying to cling onto relevance despite practically dying a long time ago."

[Morty]

[A Murky Swamp]

Thariza takes a look around as she listens to Ambrosia. Dead, forgotten... yes, this place feels like both. It has a lot of past, but little present and more or less no future. She can feel it, too. Her revenant senses tug at her here.

"Yes, I can feel it. This place feels like a memory, not something present now. A forgotten memory. No one who lives remembers what this place was for, if it ever had a purpose beyond being the court of whoever it is we're going to see here."

[Shadowcaller]

[A Murky Swamp]

"Fey are often bound by symbolism. If it had been just anyone living out here I would hesitate to draw any conclusions but... well, let's go in and see what's this is about, shall we?" Sure beats standing out in the rain at least.

Ambrosia will gesture forward and presumably she and Thariza soon arrive at the front door. If its open they will just step inside but otherwise the scholar will knock twice and then a third time if there's no immidiate response.

[Morty]

[A Murky Swamp]

The door swings open before the two before Ambrosia touches it. Beyond it is a long corridor of the same worn rock as the outer walls. The crevices between them are filled with soil and branches. There are sounds from all around them - whispers of conversation, growls and hisses and stranger sounds. But there are no doors or passages leading off to the side. The only feature they can see is a throne made of stone, with vines crawling over it. No one sits atop it. There's no way but forward.

[Shadowcaller]

[A Murky Swamp]

Ambrosia will stop once they're fully inside and turns to look at Thariza. "I can take back the umbrella now."

Then she will head further inside. They were guests after all, she was sure they had nothing to fear.

[Morty]

[A Murky Swamp]

The two scholars (or one scholar and one scholar in training) will begin to go down the corridor, but they don't seem to be crossing any distance. The walls of the court blend together, distinguishing marks seeming to appear and disappear without any rhyme or reason.

Until, suddenly, they find themselves in front of the throne, upon which sits a figure wrapped in a black cloak, a rat's skull with antlers atop its neck.

"Welcome, scholars," the figure simply says.

[Shadowcaller]

[A Murky Swamp]

Ambrosia stops at what she considers to be a respectful distance away from the figure and politely nods once they are addressed. "Thank you." She pauses. "Though that actually leads me to my first question, how should I address you?"

[Morty]

[A Murky Swamp]

"I am the King in Rags. You may address me as King."

Thariza isn't used to calling anyone a king, but she just nods. The apparition looks at her for a moment.

"How curious. I've never seen a creature like you before. And I smell death on you. You've passed to the beyond and came back. How shall I call you?"

"...Thariza. A Charr. Formerly of the Iron Legion," the massive cat-woman says cautiously.

[Shadowcaller]

[A Murky Swamp]

"Very well." Ambrosia replies without actually using that title. "And you may call me Ambrosia Ithil." The scholar then makes a point of looking around the 'throne room'. "But let's start from the beginning shall we? How did you become 'king'? Was it always so or did you struggle to ascend that throne?"

[Morty]

[A Murky Swamp]

The throne room, if it can be called that, is little different from the corridor before it. Bare rock, twisting vines and dark earth.

"A curious question. I am not a mortal king, ruling by accident of birth or treachery and politicking. I am one of the Gentry, and 'King in Rags' is a title I assumed by my own will."

[Shadowcaller]

[A Murky Swamp]

"Assumed by your own will? The first mortal kings also did that at some point. They created a title and then reinforced it through power for generations until it became a powerful concept on its own. So I assume there is more to it than just that, besides that you didn't need generations of course." Ambrosia's tone is polite, simply trying to gauge the fey's reaction to this ever so slightly pointed question.

[Morty]

[A Murky Swamp]

Thariza looks between Ambrosia and the King in Rags. She can't help but feel her friend is playing with fire. Someone who lives in a murky swamp and has a skull for a head is unlikely to have a sense of humor. The King's blue eyes flicker in what might be amusement...

"Mortal kings become such when they declare their title and those who could oppose it either have no power to do so or no interest in it. I became King by my will alone. The only opinion that mattered was that of the immortal Wyrd, binding me. You are interested in kingship, scholar."

[Shadowcaller]

[A Murky Swamp]

"Perceptive." Ambrosia nods. "Yes, since I'm above all else a dragon scholar and in my world kingship is their domain. Mortal nobles often try to associate with them by putting them on their signets and sigils. I figure that perhaps they were like you if you truly became a king by will alone. Of course, these dragons ruled over human kingdoms so perhaps its not the same thing? I'm just trying to figure out what you mean by becoming king by will alone."

[Morty]

[A Murky Swamp]

Something like a chuckle escapes the King. It's an unpleasant sound, like dry soil rolling into a fresh grave.

"I have, in the past, worn shapes of dragons. Under different names." His form blurs and briefly changes to that of a massive dragon-like humanoid with black scales and a bone-white skull for a head. But it quickly returns to his previous shape. "There is great power in them. We fey are creatures of titles. They force shape on the primal chaos that makes up our essence. As one of the Gentry, I have had many titles. The King in Rags is the one I wear now. That is what it means. I declare myself the King in Rags and assume this form."

[Shadowcaller]

[A Murky Swamp]

Ambrosia watches the "king" impassively. There's a slight twitch of her eyes as he shapeshifts but there's no telling just what that made her feel. "Right, that actually brings me to my next question. What does it mean to be a king to you? Are you the only fey king or are there others?"