Travel from Strilhome was supposed to be easy enough even when early in the season.  Tylluan had caught a ship, The Tempest, that lived up to its name a little too well.  It had been headed north along the Belka, eventually to turn around for a large city, 'Doghelm'.  But the edge of a storm had swept them, not so much damaging the ship as sending it adrift and astray for several days… and when the winds picked up again, they limped even further north.

It was a miserable enough time - food stores ran low, water too.  But the crew and captain were diligent.  And they limped on.

Faqu sits in the mouth between the sister archipelagos, Aifla and Belka, not even good enough to be a front tooth… but it's island is a decent-sized one near the front of the maw.  It's not the best stop for any… but Faqu sees plenty of ships that pass it by.

Faqu's harbor is large for a town of its size - a long wharf spreads out with piers extending off of it like a wide smile of ungainly, misshapen teeth.  The low buildings that lie beyond it are simple, sturdy little things of wood and stone.  Faqu's island is dotted with irregular stone hills, lumpy and ugly, but they provide shelter for the wooden buildings clustered near the docks.  Some sort of fluttering is visible at the edges, unclear at this distance…

Smoke rises up out of a handful of stacks, and shrubs cling to the tops and sides of hills.  At the far left (west) side of the wharf, one large windmill turns in the air.  At its side, a small strip of land and trees that looks like an orchard.

Beyond the city, a more thick forest creeps up from beyond the hills.

Surprisingly, an edge of frost clings to the trees.  The air is a little chill, even for the open water.  This time of year, the docks are empty of everything but a half-dozen fishing boats… with the exception of one strange ship.

It's wider, a broad ship with strange colored sails, deep red offset with yellows.  It's furnished with strange patterns, kind of fancy-looking.  But it also looks ragged, weather-run as if they had a rough bout of storms and wind while out on the water… not unlike their own ship.

"Thank the wind and water, when the sails fell I feared the worst."  The man grousing to the air, 'Ger', had been a decent enough captain to give Tylluan a ride… but hardly good enough company.  He spoke to himself as much as to anyone else, and while he had the occasional bawdry song to sing, his old stories tended to meander everywhere.

Heck, he might even start up on one right now!

Of course, at this range, Tylluan could see he was well within flying range of the docks...
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:30, Fri 03 Feb 2023.

Tylluan looked at the small town and suppressed a sigh. Well, this is a less-than-ideal situation, he thought. Why does weather have to be so inconvenient?

Rather than answer the captain, he returned to his cabin and took a last look around, to make sure he'd left nothing behind. Not that there was much. Since he disdained clothing as too pedestrian for his own magnificent plumage there was no need for chests and trunks of garments and accessories. Everything he carried with him was in a large leather satchel that could be slung between his shoulders, or carried in his beak. He shook his head. "First class accommodations. Bah. If I hadn't been so dreadfully bored, I would have waited for a better vessel. I suppose that's what I get for being so impulsive."

He picked up his satchel and, with a practiced twist of his head, swung it onto his back. He fussed with the placement until he was satisfied, then returned to the deck. "Captain, I truly appreciate the heroic efforts of you and your crew in bringing us safely to port, but I am anxious to set my claws on dry land, such as it is. I bid you farewell."

Without waiting for a response, Tylluan spread his wings and launched himself over the railing. He flapped a few times to gain altitude, then stiffened into a glide that would carry him ashore.

The captain watched Tylluan go with some surprise.  But he, and the rest of the crew, had more things to tackle than this.

Faqu!  Tylluan had never been... then again, Strilhome was plenty big to be home to him for a long time.  A long time until... now!

Short travels by ship don't count.

Faqu was laying out before him, a sprawling and unusual town built into a series of hills.  Up above, the rocky hills made an interesting visual - a bunch of mounds, mostly-regularly-spaced, creating shelters and laneways for the town to cluster in.  Tylluan wasn't flying too high, but besides the hills, the island was surprisingly flat... and hey, he could fly higher than any silly crow's nest!

Smoke crawled up out of a larger smithy, colorful drapings probably marking a market.  There were more windmills too, stretching up along the coast away from the harbor and town.

And then there was the forest.  A small but lush stretch of woods that creeped up the side of a slope, and perhaps some sort of orchard off to the right... by the edge of the harbor and town.

What else could be out there?  What else was there to see?

And more importantly, what was out there to experience?

Tylluan sighs with pleasure as he stretches his wings. Ah, I do enjoy being on the wing sometimes. Thanks to that foul weather, I was unable to do anything on the ship other than stay in my cabin.

As he neared the shore, he flapped a few times to gain more altitude before gliding along again while he surveyed the town. He banked slightly, to follow the outskirts of the town, while using his superior eyesight to mark points of interest. Hmmm. A quaint sort of place, but hardly sought after. Still, one never knows what one may find. I'm on a voyage of discovery, after all. His thoughts are diverted by the shimmer of sunlight playing along the top of his wing. Rainbow colors caught in obsidian. Is there anything more beautiful on this bright, new morning? I think not.

Once he makes a circuit of the town, Tylluan will pick a likely spot where he can find a decent meal. Once he does, he'll lean over into a shallow dive, cruising over the widest street, until he reaches his destination. He cups his wings to stop his momentum and lightly drops to the ground with as much style and grace as he can manage. One must make an entrance when one can, after all.

Tylluan's swoop brings him down to a large market street.  As people glance up in surprise, he lights down with impressive grace... ish.  He was no acrobat, but he didn't fumble, didn't stumble, the aerial landing maneuver.  Surely that would impress the locals?

There was silence for a long moment.  Activity all around him stopped.  The moment was hanging in the air for a good moment.  Was there something wrong?

"HAW!  Don't see that e'ery day!"  An old woman laughed.  There was a pause still, and a bit of an scattered commotion.  A bit of applause was coming from Tylluan's left.  Some was from a young man loitering under a canvas cover, as well as others beyond him.  Low tables... some sort of mess hall, or seating area, in the market, to his left.

The locals around him were starting to shake off the surprise, moving with the banality of the busywork they must be undertaking this day.  Probably like every day.  But it wasn't the only thing here.

The smell of fish was prominent.  A stall behind Tylluan it sounds like.  The gleam of a few red apples were visible ahead and to the right.

Well, he landed in the right place for a meal!

"Thank you, thank you, good people," Tylluan said, settling his wings and preening a bit. He did love accolades. They were his just due, after all. He swiveled his head around, blinking his golden eyes. "Now then, I am positively famished. Excuse me."

He turned and walked toward the seating area, looking for someone who could bring him something to eat. Something more than the uninspired ship-fare he'd been forced to subsist on, when the provisions had run low on the vessel.

Shipfare was nothing compared to fresh food.  Tylluan moved to the seats, hearing more muted conversation around him.  Sitting down, it looks like the primary meals are stews, apples and a few other fruits.  Fish, for certain.  They had little grain... a bit weird, that.  They had potatoes though, carrots and other root-crops.  A fair few green things from some of the other market spots.

The young man who had been clapping earlier was watching Tylluan, and seeing him sitting there, the youth gives a start.  "AH!  Right.  Is there something you'd like, sir?"  He scurries up.  "Right now fruits?  Fish stew, or roasted?  "Three bits with the fruits, two without.  Tea's free with the fish, qbee otherwise."  Not a cost that would concern Tylluan, not even a whole coin.

"Little early for travel, it's pretty surprising to see you out here.  We don't have any Strigi staying here, just Earthfoots.  Though I wonder if that big ship has-... er, sorry again.  What'd you like?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:41, Thu 28 Oct 2021.

Tylluan fluffed out his feathers to keep himself warm while he stood at the table. He blinked at the young man as he recited what fare was available. "Ah, yes. A double portion of roasted fish with one of fruit. And what is... qbee?"

The young man blinks.  "Double fish!  Oh, yes - uh.  quarter iron bits.  The flattest ones."  That was good enough explanation for Tylluan - he's got some of those for sure.

Assuming Tylluan leaves the coin, he nods and heads off.  "We'll get you the gru- er, food."

He moves off, giving Tylluan time.

Tylluan soon had his roasted fish, and a bowl of sliced citrus and apples.  Around him, the sights of the little town were indeed quaint.  The most colorful part of town was probably the market - colored banners fluttered overhead, indicators of different markets.  This, Tylluan knew, was common among the islands - people selling something trying to attract attention any way they could.

The stony hills did act as a partial shelter, but on the edges of the town the wind whistled.  Even here, in the market, he could hear the faint noise of wind on wood beams.

Still, the place was secure and the wind wasn't so bad.

And the fish!  The roasted fish was great, as was the fruit.

Tylluan tucked his beak into the feathers covering his breast, seemingly preoccupied with something. In reality, he was using his beak to fish a few coins out of a leather pouch that hung around his neck, safely buried beneath his feathers. He used the tip of his tongue to taste the metal and determine the size of the coins before extracting what he needed. He dropped the money on the table and blinked at the servant. "That should be sufficient, yes?"

When the food arrives, Tylluan clacks his beak hungrily. I thank whatever gods there are who granted my people with the means to appreciate our food. Stories say my ancestors lacked a refined taste or smell, since we swallowed our food whole, or in great chunks. But oh, how wonderful it is to enjoy one's food, instead of just bolting it down. Using great restraint, he tears strips off the fish with his sharp beak, tilts his head back, and opens his mouth wide enough for the food to be swallowed. Tylluan lets out a trill of pleasure and continues to eat. A bite of fish, followed by a slice of fruit, until his meal is finished, bones and all.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:56, Tue 02 Nov 2021.

Tylluan gets a curious look as he fishes up the coins, and his waitstaff nods and hurries off.

With nothing pressing on his time, Tylluan has the chance to savor the roasted fish and fruit.  One thing to be sure, the locals knew how to cook.

So preoccupied with the taste of each chunk of food, he didn't notice a shape was nearby, watching him.  A maroon, cloaked figure was peering at Tylluan with interest.  "You... just arrived, yes?"  The person was human, short and somewhat plain... weirdly dressed, obviously.  He doesn't seem armed, and looks genuinely curious.

But he was undoubtedly going to ask Tylluan about- "Are you familiar with the High Land?"  Yep.  Something like that.

Tylluan swivels his head around and blinks at the person addressing him. "Yes. I was a passenger on the ship that just arrived." He leaned forward and raised one taloned foot to scratch his cheek. "A most disagreeable voyage, but one I endured with little complaint."

He tilted his head at the second question. "High... Land? The name is unfamiliar to me." He fluffed out his feathers and spread his wings to show their glossy expanse. "I, of course, am from Strilhome, yes?"

The cloaked figure, a  looks more excited at hearing where Tylluan had come from.  "Ah, well!  Yes, the noble Strilhome.  I have been hoping one day to be stationed there,"  this he provides with a lean-in and whisper, as if sharing some personal secret, "...but I have no clue if I will ever be so lucky."  The back of his hand brushes up past his eye.

"We, that is, I have been hoping to hear of the sights and sounds.  But before I can hear about it - I heard there was a storm.  Such a strange time, did you... experience it?"  There was almost a gleam in his eye as he asked.  A couple other cloaked individuals had entered the market area, asking questions, milling around.  Soliciting or somesuch.

Tylluan blinks at the strange individual. 'Noble Strilhome'? I wouldn't consider it so. A place of misery in my youth. Ridiculed by those who thought they were my peers, but clearly weren't. They were clearly jealous that I was not of a common clutch the way they were. An isolated land where the people are content with their mudane existence. But not me!

"Yes, well, I suppose it has a certain charm for those unfamiliar with it," he says aloud. The way this person talks seems very odd. "Yes, there was a storm. I have rarely traveled on the seas for any great distance, so I don't know if such a thing was strange. It was uncomfortable, inconvenient, and annoying. So much bobbing and tossing about." He fluffed his feathers again. "The Captain and his crew were not happy but they performed competently enough to bring me here. Not my intended destination, but dry land is dry land after such a disagreeable experience." Uncharacteristically, Tylluan finds himself curious about someone else. "Stationed? A military term, yes? But why would you be curious about a storm? Are they not something one encounters if one travels the seas?"

"Ah," he comments aloud.  "a certain charm indeed."  He... doesn't seem to see at all the kind of impact his reflection of 'noble Strilhome' has caused.

But the one thing that does throw him off is Tylluan's question.  "Yes.  Well!  I am part of the clergy."  He rattles off that explanation so hastily that his original line of inquiry, into the storm, is lost.  Both the cleric's, and Tylluan's.

"Well, if you are on safe land, that counts for something.  The sea's a dangerous place.  Go on, with, the blessing of the High Light."  He stepped back, lifting up some sort of charm on a necklace.

"It will be nice some day to hear about the lore of Strilhome, take care."  And he swiftly turns about, hurrying away into the market...

"Clergy?" Tylluan asks, still mildly curious. "Ah. Religion, yes?" So, he must be a traveling priest of some sort.

He blinks at the priest as he raises his charm or talisman, but only bobs his head. As the man disappears into the market, Tylluan dismisses him and considers what he should do next. Should I see if there are suitable lodgings, or find a vessel more suitable for my travels? I am really not looking forward to being on the ocean again so soon after being tossed about like a leaf on the wind.

Even as he mulls over these thoughts, he ambles through the market stalls, guided by bright colors. Perhaps a shiny bauble to mark this part of my travels?
This message was last edited by the player at 02:58, Mon 08 Nov 2021.