[Shaperate] Our Ancestor's Shaperate

Fridgar and Alistair explore their past lives

The Gauthrel Plains reach from the coasts of western Idalos to the very edge of Ne'haer before meeting the forests surrounding Hiladrith. The Fields of Gauthrel can be a dangerous place, one that is home to the most deadliest of creatures. It holds many secrets in the history of the land and may offer rewards to those who choose to journey out into the wild plains. It is best not to wander out alone in these fields. Even caravans have been known to go missing.

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2nd Saun 717


"I'm still pretty good, all things considered. How about you?" Fridgar asked his beloved as they walked. This was their third trial in the dance of the graces and Fridgar had yet to experience too many of the ill effects. But how was Alistair doing? The trial was harder on humans, after all. "I'm feeling a little weaker and tired, I think it's getting worse, but I'm not sure. the sun isn't really helping, either," Fridgar explained his state to the husband, how would they compare?

Totrial, they were headed to the centre of knowledge and academics for Uthaldria: The Ancestor's Shaperate. There they would find out about their past lives as Azzas and Aedan Calder, hopefully. Maybe they could even find out where their great grandchildren were? Fridgar, however, was seeking answers in general. over the past few trials, he'd found himself serving Thetros more and more devotedly. He was their creator, after all. A father he never had. And after what happened with Kaer Jeger and the ascension festival... he couldn't help but feel like the Immortal had plans for him.

Creator, Fridgar spoke in his head, a prayer. Totrial, me and Alistair are exploring Azzas and Aedan, the past lives where you bound us in marriage. Now that we're finally together again, we want to know more about our past lives. Lend me your wisdom so that I don't make a fool of myself, please? Fridgar asked, pleading in his head. The Lothar then opened his eyes and looked to his beloved before planting a kiss on his forehead. "My Rose..." Fridgar sighed, his breath hot and heavy in the warm air of Saun.

"I can't believe it's only the beginning of Sauuun!" The Lothar winged, wiping a drop of sweat from his forehead, but failing to remove the sweat from the rest of his naked, glistening form. His Stekir skin Loincloth had grown slightly damp on the patches with fur while the rest of him looked just about ready to steam with the unrelenting sunlight. Not many other Lothar were about, despite being the streets of Uthaldria. Maybe the rare Nordhoff or so, but not many others were about.

Soon enough, the pair arrived in the cool shade of the Shaperate. Why was it called a shape-rate anyway? What did that even mean? Whatever the case, he was certain it would be a lot cooler on the inside, but first, he wanted to talk to his beloved. "Alistair," The Lothar spoke, his tone low and serious. "Whatever we discover in there, just remember that we're Alistair and Fridgar. We're our own people and our past lives are like... completely different to us, okay?" For instance, in that lifetime, Fridgar had been the Kindal, the beloved.

Now, he was the Havendal, the guardian. He just hoped that Alistair didn't forget that, he wasn't about to be crying Alistair's name like a bitch only to be mounted whenever Alistair pleased. No, he was the dominant in this lifetime, it would stay that way. If Alistair forgot who was on top while looking through the old scrolls of whatever was in there, Fridgar would just have to remind him.
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Whenever one finds oneself inclined to bitterness, it is a sign of emotional failure.
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I'm pretty good, all things considered. You? his mate asked. The noble smiled brightly, standing on his toes to plant a peck on his lover's lips. "I'm doing wonderful, my Thorn. I'm with you!" he exclaimed, growing giddy as his face lit up. Fridgar always had a way of turning the mage into a total squealing child, no matter how noble, wise or aloof he found himself in any of his official or business related spheres. With Fridgar, he was just... different. Alistair Calder. A different man, altogether - in so many ways.

"I haven't really started manifesting any symptoms yet," the doctor stated, shaking his head. "I think it's... erm, slow-acting, but maybe only for humans. What if it just all comes in at once? They said the mortality rate for humans was higher . . . if all of the symptoms manifest spontaneously, and simultaneously, that could be a really good reason for why . . ." Alistair speculated, somewhat worried about the thought, though overall he retained the central element of giddiness that was permeated by Fridgar's presence.

As Alistair thought absently to himself, Fridgar planted him a kiss on the forehead, forming a small smile and red blush on his cheeks as his expression rose. "My Thorn..." he called him, nodding agreeably as Fridgar levied his complaints against the season of Saun. Alistair agreed, nodding his head fervently. It was even worse than Cylus - at least in Cylus they could hide in their homes and lay dormant beneath piles of blankets.

He knew it didn't work quite like that for the typical serf, but Alistair lived in an insulated and posh environment, and had not yet been exposed to the true grit of Cylus. The one night he'd really experienced it was when he fell in love with Fridgar, nearly freezing atop that hill, touching high above the surface.

But this season was not nearly so romantic - not yet at least. Perhaps more trips to the magical library and they'd be moving in that direction.

Speaking of, they arrived, and Alistair's eyes lit up with excitement. The place was... cool? And it was very... visually appealing, he noticed. This made sense, since typically many men were visual learners, and the Lothar seemed to be one of the most visual of all races. There were... spiraling, shifting images, and spheres that seemed to illustrate information almost like projections, standing on pedestals between shelves of books. It was astounding - like anything he'd ever seen in a Coven library, but moreso. It was electric. How was this possible?

On the walls, words were written, information in Haltunga as they entered the library. The engraved words were simple, but they seemed to explain the majesty of the Shaperate.

We are gifted this knowledge by the grace of the Creator. This institution would fall to the dust if not for his wisdom and guidance. Beneath those words, the image of a feather, but animated - splitting off into birds, fluttering about and reforming. He knew that image. It was the mark of Thetros, A'belah. Was this place blessed by him in some way? Alistair's brow rose, perplexed and equally fascinated. Considering the low standards of education in Uthaldria, he was quite impressed by their library, at least visually.

Fridgar was right, though. He needed to keep his eye on the ball - this was about learning of the past, of their descendants, of the legacy they left behind back when they were different men. They needed to remember why they came here, and it wasn't to get lost in past lives or ancient things. Alistair wanted to find their family, the Calders. If they would even accept them.

"Yeah, I got you," the mage whispered to his love, nodding his head lightly. "Let's go find our uh... I don't know. Our... ugh, where would we even look? There must be millions of Lotharen past lives. Tens of millions. How do they keep everything orderly?" he questioned. Perhaps the secret was in the shifting imagery, those magical spheres? The noble's brow furrowed.
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[Shaperate] Our Ancestor's Shaperate

"One page after another . . ."
“I don’t think this was a part of my job description, Monani,” Silv called out into the open air as she stretched on tipped toes to shove the tome on the shelf.

A smoky voice replied from nook of the library, little more than an echo. “Consider it part of your research, love.”

Silv had been working in The Ancestor’s Shaperate for nearly a cycle now as a scribe under the Biqaj woman, but at times she felt she did anything but that. Granted, their work in general had slowed down with the onset of war in the east. The Lothar historians had ridden with the army marching to Argos last season in order to bear witness to the history that was being made. Silv had wanted to ride as well, but she didn’t really know the right people to ask for this privilege. She knew, too, that war and history were very much things monopolized by men in this region. So Silv remained here in Uthaldria longing for work that was slow in coming.

New voices reached her ears, a pair coming from the direction of the entrance to the library. Silv knew Mo was not likely to greet the newcomers—she much preferred her books—so Silv set the remaining books in her arms down on the wooden cart beside her and made her way through aisles to the main desk.

Two men lingered nearby, one of whom she could’ve recognized from a hundred yards away; between the loincloth, the horns, and the giant stature Fridgar was not a man to be mistaken for another. His companion Silv did not recognize. He was a tall man, despite standing well into Fridgar’s horned shadow, with eyes like her. Constantly observing, full of curiosity and wonder. And of an unnatural hue, similar to the giant’s eyes. She wondered if there was a coincidence to this. Regardless, Silv could tell that this man was more at home at libraries. For that alone she could appreciate the stranger, strange eyes or no.

“Greetings, Fridgar, and friend,” Silv said in Haltunga with a hint of a grin as she stepped up to the side of the welcome desk, placing one hand on the edge. “What might you two be looking for today? Besides the cool temperature of the library, of course.” She could see the sweat on both men, and Silv took the moment to remind herself of one benefit to this life she led.
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Alistair was well? The dance of the graces was peculiar. It was made out to be something terrible and awful to go through, but neither of them seemed any different or even slightly phased by the dance. Were they just bad asses or was something else at play? Maybe it was as Alistair put it and all the symptoms would appear at once? "I really hope not; that sounds like misery," Fridgar declared, looking to his beloved with concern. By the way that the dance was described, he couldn't help but wonder if anyone lived through such an experience?

As nifty as the interior of the Shaperate was, Fridgar paid attention to little more than the coolness of the inside. He couldn't help but wonder why the Lotharro would build a place of knowledge with so many resources? They didn't need libraries, they needed barracks, armourers, farmlands, weapon smiths. Needing libraries was a human thing, what was the point of recording history anyway?

Alistair raised a good point though. Where do they look? "Where do we even begin to look?" Fridgar affirmed, looking about with confusion and wonder. "There's so many Lotharro in Gauthrel... I had no idea..." Fridgar declared his good observation as he looked up and down all the tomes. That was when a familiar voice rang, calling his attention. He looked upon the blue female, recognition lighting his expression. "Oh! Silv! What are you doing here? I haven't seen you since the ascension festival!" he spoke as though the festival had happened last season and not the trial prior.

"Alistair, this is Silv. She's an Eidisi I met at the festival yestertrial, unlike that iron hand member from Andaris, she's friendly. Silv, this is Alistair, my fierce, strong, intelligent Kindal, my husband. I think I told you about him?" Maybe he did, maybe he didn't. He'd been otherwise absorbed in the events and caught up with friends. Surely though, he'd have mentioned his beloved at least once? When she asked what he and Alistair were looking for, it finally clicked that she worked here. "Oh!" Fridgar burst with realisation.

"Alistair, she can help us! We don't have to get lost in here or anything!" He looked Alistair in the eyes very frequently, but avoided eye contact with Silv consistently as he had the trial prior. "Uhh, our past lives were bonded by the likrjyr. Azzas and Aedan Calder? We believe that they raised a child together and were hoping to discover their whereabouts? If not their children or grandchildren?" It was an unusual request, considering that most Lotharen were reborn with their memories.

"It was around a hundred and thirty arcs ago that Azzas and Aedan passed, if that helps." He cast his mismatched eyes to Alistair's nebulous irises, searching for confirmation. "Is there anything else you wanted to find out, my rose?" The Lothar offered with raised eyebrows, almost as though he were certain in Silv's ability to help them. He had another request for Silv, but it was more personal and he didn't want to worry his beloved, it would have to come later.
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Whenever one finds oneself inclined to bitterness, it is a sign of emotional failure.
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Partway through the two wandering confusedly through the library, a blue skinned woman with pale eyes greeted them, an Eidisi from his records. He'd met very few of them in his lifetime, only particularly glancing upon them as he passed through Viden on the way to Scalvoris. One thing they were particularly known for was their linguistics capability, demonstrated by her skillful Haltunga, a language particularly difficult for outsiders to learn. Alistair had realized quickly upon arriving here that he was one of the few from a less dominant race to pursue the language - many of the other humans festered in the Burial District speaking common alone, incapable of engaging with the rest of society.

The Eidisi, however, were skillful and intelligent people. Alistair respected them almost by default.

"Greetings," the noble responded, smiling faintly. Fridgar introduced the woman as Silv, and announced her race. Alistair eyed him oddly, wondering if it was socially acceptable in Warrick to introduce people by their name and race. Maybe Fridgar thought she was too unique and interesting to not point out her Yvithian heritage.

His thoughts on the matter were quickly interrupted as Fridgar introduced him - as his fierce, strong, intelligent kindal. The mage blushed lightly, glancing to the other man and staring quietly, given a measure of joy by his proud introduction. Fridgar was always so good to him. The mage, in response, merely leaned into his husband and held him closely, clinging to his side. He glanced up at him and if Fridgar leaned forward, the noble would kiss him softly before the Eidisi librarian.

After doing so, he turned to the Eidisi with the smile still sat upon his expression. "As he stated, I'm Alistair, Lord of the Northern Realms. It is good to meet you, Silv, and to discover that a place of such exceptional knowledge exists within this... otherwise brute society," the mage stated, almost as if Gauthrel displeased him - it did not. He loved the Lotharen culture, their focus on merit and their love of freedom and individual identity. However, upon arriving he noted a particular portion of his identity that had little place in pursuing - his intellectual curiosity. The Shaperate, on the other hand, quite possibly dispelled this notion.

As he thought upon this, Fridgar explained their conundrum, their search of their former lives that had passed so long ago. They were identities they'd only discovered upon marriage, and the two of them had found it difficult to channel their memories since the ceremony. Where the mind grasped and failed, texts could hopefully answer. If there was anything written of them and their legacy, it had to be here. Somewhere.

"Aedan Calder was a Warden Commander of Clan Aelothari," the mage pointed out. "The Clan, from my knowledge, doesn't exist anymore or... well, it's moved somewhere else. There might be some records of the prominent individuals of that Clan, though, and their descendants. Do you think you'd know where to look?" he posed the question to Silv, looking upon her intently and hoping she would somehow divine them an answer.
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"One page after another . . ."
Silv had only known of the horned giant for two trials now, but she was quickly coming to realize that the man was a leader. The way he took charge of every conversation, the way he carried himself alone and in groups . . . they were marks of a Lothar who held lives in his hand and took care of them. She felt a seed of an idea take root in the back of her mind, but she left it alone. It would take more than forty-eight bells for this plant to bloom.

"I work here," Silv replied, gesturing with the hand she had kept at her side to the open room behind her with a sweep, "as a scribe." She had mentioned something of the sort when they all were at the festival--which Fridgar had alluded to--but perhaps the Lothar hadn't heard her. Not it mattered much.

Fridgar named the man Alistair as he continued his explanation of Silv to him. Again the giant made reference to an Eidisi that they had both known in the past, but this time there was more information. An Iron Hand member in Andaris. She had no real idea what this organization was, but she did recognize the city name; even halfway across the world one had heard of the capital city of the Island Kingdom. She had little to say on the matter, as a whole.

The pair's intimate kiss was unnerving to the Eidisi, not because they were two men, but because this was a library and not their bedchambers. She was not one for public display of affection; she had walked in on her mother too often as a child to be comfortable with romantic gestures. Thankfully the pair had been preoccupied and missed the flare of her nostrils, else they get the wrong idea. She had composed herself by the time that the human, Alistair, turned his attention back to her.

Lord of the Northern Realms? Silv thought that title to be vague and not quite applicable for the Lothar lands. From what she understood of the people here, North Gauthriel was largely inhabited by the Free Clans and knew no "Lord". Perhaps he was a Lord, then, of a foreign land, though without knowing his surname she couldn't surmise where. Not that it mattered much to the dilemma the couple had at hand.

Silv had no idea what the likrjyr was, but assumed it to involve the marital bond Fridgar referred to. They were hoping to access the memories of their old lives, which surprised the Eidisi. Alistair she understood, but Silv thought the Lothar could access the memories of their old lives. Granted, they had to be Reborn Lothar, and she didn't know if Fridgar was one or not. It would certainly explain why she had seen him at the Ascension Festival the trial prior. Alistair was more forthcoming with details of the past lives they sought. She had not heard of Clan Aelothari, but she did have a good idea where to look.

"The Shaperate has an entire section devoted to genealogical record, divided by Clan and Path. If the Aelothari were a Clan of any great renown in the region, I'm certain you'll be able to find references to the Lothar you seek and the children they raised. As for access to memories, we may have a way to accomdate that too, though that isn't my area of expertise. Let me direct you to the proper section so you can begin your research and I'll fetch the head librarian who can assist you with your more technical questions."

Silv was a woman of business, turning to move further into the library to the section on genealogy. The pair of heavy footsteps behind her told her that the men followed suit.
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[Shaperate] Our Ancestor's Shaperate

"One page after another . . ."
Silv left the two men to their search after they had arrived to the proper section, giving the men one final nod of the head as she disappeared further into the stacks. As much as she wanted to help the men, they would be better served by the attention of Monani, who had worked in the Shaperate for far longer than the Eidisi and knew the research methods better than Silv. She had yet to peruse the genealogical tomes in the short time she had been in Uthaldria, though she knew it would be a useful experience to have at some point. Maybe when she herself was writing about the men recorded in those books. For now, she wasn’t even writing anything at all, original or otherwise.

She found the Head Librarian in the section devoted to animal husbandry, a faded and cracked book held between her arms. Her armbands clacked against each other as she turned to face the Eidisi. “I heard you talking to other people. You know I’m not fond of people.”

Silv knew the woman was joking—somewhat—but there was little more the Eidisi could do for Fridgar or Alistair at the moment. Well, she could flip aimlessly through the books and hoped to stumble across the information they sought, but this was the better option for all parties involved. “A married couple,” Silv replied, “They’re looking for information of their past lives, who were also bonded. Hoping to access memories, too, if that is something we can even offer them. I left them in the genealogical section to come find you so you can help them.”

“And what makes these gentlemen worth my time?” Mo replied, a half-grin across her face.

Silv returned the grin. “The human said he was a Lord. Lords don’t like to be kept waiting.”

“A Lord? And what does this man happen to rule over, love?”

“Why, the whole Northern Realms, of course.” Silv replied, glancing at the nearest shelf of books beside her.

She could see the Mo’s scoffing look from her periphery. “The Northern Realms, you say?” she asked, shaking her head. “They better not be bloody Free Clansmen, Silv, tracking marsh mud in my library. You’ll be the one cleaning the loose animal hair from the chairs if they are, if they are.” Nevertheless, she stepped past Silv, headed in the direction of Fridgar and Alistair. “Walk with me. I have something for you.”

Monani handed the book to Silv when the Eidisi fell into step beside her. “Finally found some work for you to do,” she said, turning the corner of the aisle they were in. “I think you’ll find the subject the be somewhat relevant to your own interests.”

Silv flipped the book open to read the title page. The Sack of Hiladrith by Rogar von Steln. “Didn’t think you wanted me to have fun on the job?” the Eidisi replied, closing the book.

“Better that than you writing sloppy because you were bored by the material,” she answered. “Just don’t get caught up in the details. I want that book back in circulation as soon as possible. The whole city is war crazy these days and I imagine it’ll be sought out before too long.”

Silv nodded, glancing again the book in her arms. Finally she had an assignment to begin work on, and one that dealt with her personal interests too. She knew the Biqaj woman was teasing her, and that she actually wanted Silv to enjoy her studies here. It wasn’t too often that interest was shown in the books surrounding them. She was sure Mo would like Fridgar and Alistair, even if they were Free Clansmen.

“Oi!” Monani exclaimed in Haltunga as she entered the aisle the couple stood in. “Be careful with those horns of yours, big man.”

Silv lingered at the end of the aisle long enough to offer one final wave to the men before disappearing around the corner. As much as she wanted to stick around and see what these men discovered about themselves, she finally had work to do. There wasn’t any time to waste.
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Silv

Overview

Hi Silv! I really liked your writing and well done on finishing up this thread so well. You did it sensitively and without determining what happened for your writing partners, but it made sense! In terms of skills, I've added three in; another business management, a persuasion and an etiquette. Let me know if you disagree. I really enjoyed reviewing this thread and I'm looking forward to seeing more of your stories on the site! Do drop me a pm if you've got any questions!

Points

XP: 15

Fame:: None
Devotion: None

Loot

Nope

Knowledge

Business Management: Personally directing 'customers' to the right sections
Business Management: Banter with co-workers strengthens the work environment
Business Management: Consider each customer as an individual
Detection: Listening to echos to determine location
Etiquette: Lords don't like to be kept waiting
Discipline: Curbing one's curiosity to begin work
Persuasion: Encouraging reticent work colleagues
Research: Determining key words for search

Location: Ancestor's Shaperate
Fridgar: Husband to Alistair
Alistair: Husband to Fridgar
Alistair: Lord of the Northern Realms




Fridgar

Overview

Lovely writing, I very much enjoy how honestly you play Fridgar and how well your write him. He is a PC with depth, certainly. You've requested no knowledge, so enjoy the points! Drop me a PM if you have any questions or I've missed anything!

Points

XP: 15

Fame:: None
Devotion: None

Loot

Nope

Knowledge

None requested



Alistair

Overview

Well written, honest and genuine portrayal of your PC, as always. Alistair is very much changed by his relationship with Fridgar, it's interesting to see! You've requested no knowledge, so enjoy the points! Drop me a PM if you have any questions or I've missed anything!

Points

XP: 15

Fame:: None
Devotion: None

Loot

Nope

Knowledge

None requested
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