Solo Crossing Teas

[Dariel]

Mhakula Tea House 81st Day of Fall 512 AV Somewhere in the back of Dariel's mind he idly mulled around a thought that didn't cease to entertain him. Was Zintila secretly also the goddess of tea? Granted, his mind had to reach and strain to find the flimsiest connection between divine lights draped across night's canopy and a steaming brew of dubious content but undeniable effect. But the connection between this being the Lady's abode and the tea being served her being outright divine had to exist. Nothing short of a divine spark in the brew could explain his reaction. Most stores often had a kettle on a stove, at least at this time of year, it was sold from stalls to passerbys, the Azure Market even sported a roving vendor with a veritable cask strapped to his equally sizable belly from which he ladled copious amounts of tea into earthen mugs, his supply never turning cold. But the best tea in town was served at the Mhakula Tea House, everyone agreed. Strategically visiting late during Lhavit's Midnight Rest, he'd had no problems finding a seat that met his standards. Which mostly included having his back to the wall and a good view of the place. The fact that he single-handedly occupied a table for six that way never occurred to him in a more than statistical manner. Not like there were even six guests in the entire room right now, even if he included himself. But that would soon change, and Dariel had come prepared. Next to his bowl of steaming amber-coloured tea perfuming the area with a crisp licorice scent lay a new notebook as well as a pen. Dariel was ready. Meanwhile however, he got to sample some of the amber brew. It was heady with spices, tickled the tongue with a hint of what might well have been pepper as it passed, left traces of this and that on his tastebuds and even after swallowing he could still smell the evaporating oils crawling up his esophagus as he breathed. It played to almost all his senses as it passed and with each sip left him feeling both sharper and more relaxed at the same time. Dariel was at a loss as to how to explain himself the paradoxical nature of this magic concoction. Thoughtlessly, he scrawled a note into his book to ask an expert when the chance presented itself. Not that he had never had tea before. It was just that this one was so much... more. And that was just the surface. His table also contained two porcelain pots, one filled with brown lumps of sugar he didn't care for. He felt his tea had already been sweet enough and sugar would just ruin the taste. The other pot was far more mysterious, though. Raising the lid revealed little yellow cubes he could only assume were butter. However, someone had neglected to give him bread to go with the butter, and he wasn't even sure he wanted anything this simple with his tea. He might have begun experimenting on the uses of the butter cubes when his train of thought was cut short by the gentle sound of the windchime in the tea house's entranceway. Looking up from the little pot and blindly replacing the lid, Dariel spied two men entering. Neither could have been much older than him. One of them was a local and he was making sweeping gestures with his hands while relating some apparently momentuous piece of information to the other, who really could have come from anywhere on Mizahar. Young Adult Male -- Agitated Spidery fingers jotted down a spidery hand with great care, the letters exact, though struggling to remain in a straight line. The notebook had been a good investment as the paper seemed to love being written on, even if sparingly. Four little words to sum up the totality of a man he'd only seen for a few short moments, but it was almost everything Dariel wanted from this one. Almost.

[Dariel]

There was no need to push himself tonight. Certainly one of those small favors he was so fond of. Not that he wasn't fond of pushing his limits as well, but that was a kind of rush best experienced in small doses. He needed to ration his strength, needed to balance the peaks with gentle valleys. The only thing he would not do would be to stop working on improving himself. While the tea alone was a good enough reason to come here, the people were the true motivation for Dariel. His seat afforded him a comfortable perch from which to observe them, and they did most of the rest of his work for him. All he needed to do was work his magic. Quite literally. The young mage could afford to close his eyes for a moment, let his mind expand to feel his body. Feel more than muscles contracting and relaxing, more than his breath sneaking in and out through his nose, carrying traces of the cloud of spice fumes he sat in. That tension under his skin that wasn't really tension. It was something the Common tongue lacked the words to describe. Really, even the Ancient tongue lacked a word for this... this charge. But it was everywhere in his body. Made his fingertips feel heavy and his arms tense, and it sent his heart aflutter when he thought on it. Djed. For this, this sensation, the word was wholly lacking. Yes, the Nader-Canoch word for backbone made for a lovely parable in many situations, but not in this one, except when the impressions overwhelmed him and cast shivers down his djed. Tonight being a slow and relaxed approach promised none of that however, Envisioning a water draining into a pool through the slightest of natural inclines, Dariel concentrated his Djed under his heart, then let it follow his breath as he exhaled, chest tightening as the energy spread into his skull and outward. It wasn't so much that his vision shifted, or any other sense affected by the infusion of Djed. It was more that the entire way he experienced the world shifted on a fundamental level. He did not see differently, or better per se. He felt the world in an entirely different way now. Sights, sounds, smells, tastes, even impressions of touch were just his mind trying to wrap itself around these impressions. His limited human imagination trying to force arcane concepts into expressions it could work with. This was something Dariel had felt from the first time he managed to reach out with his Auristic talent. There was always this sense of there being more, if he only knew what to look for and where. The first impression unfailingly was of residual magic. Unsurprising as Djed permeated the world and its use left behind more of it, Sadly, always, he lacked the means to qualify or quantify this vague idea. But it too was a taste -literally- of there being more behind the more he already got to perceive. In a way, it was a form of communion with the whole world, even if he was forced to focus on bits and pieces thereof. In a way, it was a shame that he had to profane this holy act to become better at it. Color: Dark, rich pink Make: Whispy tendrils Behavior: Swirling outward and up The notes were needed for a better understanding. But Gods how banal it was. Chances were he was looking at some fool freshly fallen for a comely lass and out to tell the world about his joy. At least this one would not cause Dariel a headache from strain.

[Dariel]

Even though the tea house had only just started to fill up Dariel couldn't make out what the subject of his studies was talking about. His first endeavor had been more fruitful if banal. That young man kept bringing up the name of a girl and the rather stupid expression he'd affect when he said it had been enough to bear, and sufficient proof of his theory. Dariel had made his final annotation to that effect and taken some grudging respite from straining his Djed-fueled faculties. By then his current cup of tea had cooled down to a point where it was still drinkable but lacked most of the delightful properties that made it so desirable in this breezy, rainy season. The taste had mostly evaporated along with the heat to the point where it was little more than flavored water. Dariel must have made a face because fresh, steaming tea had been brought to replace the stale one in no time. He began to like this place. Then Lhavit had awoken from its rest, more and more people streaming into the tea house. They came in pairs or larger groups, the largest one of which measured five. That group was made up of a woman dressed in stark bright colors and what felt like an entourage of four men that seemed to represent the entirety of the city's population between them. Her dress didn't mark her as a priestess or any sort of official figure, but the diplomatic grace with which she juggled the men was quite the thing to behold. Mature Female -- Professionally Suave Color: Pale sea green Make: Solid Behavior: Radiant Entertainer plying her trade? Dariel had just enough social graces to get by, he knew. Be respectful to your elders, people of obvious station and those bearing superior arms. Brook no disrespect to yourself. Incline your head in greeting, ask permission to speak in a pinch. But never avoid eye contact as that's a sign of weakness. That was about the gist of it anyhow. Watching the lady across the room in her deep reds and ivory gave him a new appreciation for civility as an art form however. His auristic scan had shown no traces of magic on the woman, but the way she handled the men was shockingly close to it. Her smile was unfailingly polite as she poured tea for the eldest first and the best dressed second before taking care of the other two. She had utter control of the conversation around the table, handing out equal amounts of attention to everyone and encouraging the ones left out to busy themselves with each other. If the divine puppeteer Sagallius ever sought a bride, Dariel had found her. The young man had also found something else. The Old Crow had always droned on that knowledge was power. Dariel had long since learned that there were a few amendments to this statement. Not all power being based in knowledge was one of them. This lady with the perfectly painted masque, the carefully dosed smile and pinpoint gestures of restrained affection, she didn't need to know these men's weak points. She created them as she needed them. She was power. Such a shame that there was no magic to her and her mood was as controlled as her mien. For his current studies, he'd gotten all out of her that he cared for. But he'd also sampled her power, if indirectly. He'd be left craving that Dariel thought as he tasted the new cup of tea, closing his eyes as he breathed in the fumes before the liquid played across his taste buds.

[Dariel]

It took less than a quarter of a bell until the tea house had filled to capacity. Much to Dariel's delight the obvious foreigner, absent the colorful robes that marked Zintila's people, was given wide berth. The places nearest to him were the last ones to be claimed before people moved to sharing tables with one another. To his left he now had an elderly couple that would have been touching to most other people. Though their faces were marred by literally hundreds of wrinkles, their interaction bore none of the resentment and contempt born of a lifetime of familiarity. For Dariel, they held little interest once he'd surmised that the lack of ornament on their robes did nothing to hide the superior materials and craftsmanship. While there certainly lay deeper secrets hidden beneath the fine silks, those were for another kind of practice and another day. The fellow to Dariel's right proved more interesting, and the young mage found himself distracted in his studies time and time again as he stole glances at what transpired at that table. A man in his best years, hale and fit as attested by the rock solid appearance of his neck, the rest of his physique hidden beyond layers upon layers of silk. The man's hair defied his age by remaining a luxuriant black despite the onset of wrinkles around his eyes. What was more interesting however was the way he was treated. Not only had almost everyone he passed inclined their heads, not only had his tea arrived no sooner that he'd sat down, but now and then people would approach the man's table. They'd stay a respectful distance until he bade them approach, Dariel had to mentally chide himself for not having paid closer attention to the local argot before. Though he sat close enough to overhear what was being spoken of at the right-hand table, many words simply failed to parse for him. The waves of ambient sounds created by the faceless crowds and the often nasal or throaty local Lhavitian inflections did the rest. He might as well have sat in Ravok at the other end of the world. All he was certain of was that a good time was had by most visitors and always the host at the table. Laughter needed neither good diction nor a good dictionary. Dariel himself was on his third cup. He'd changed from the spicy and energizing tea he'd had before to something flavored with petals from some kind of mountain flower. It was altogether different but just as fragrant and tasty. And popular. While not knowing what exactly it was, he remembered the scent of the tea from elsewhere. Many elsewheres in fact. This was what the potbelly at the Azure Market ladelled out, and what was apparently drunk in half a dozen shops he could immediately recall. Scents had a weird way of doing that; rekindling memories. Adding a mental note to memorize the flower's name for reference and another one to condition himself to pay more attention to smells about him, Dariel finally returned to his actual purpose. After all, potential candidates now dangled all over like ripe fruit on a tree. He would just need to pluck one. Elder male -- Elaborate robes, hunched, expression vague Color: Faded purple, occasionally stark white Make: Clouds Behavior: Roiling, drifting, occasionally shot through with 'lightning' In chronic pain; adept at hiding it. Young girl -- Impatient Color: Pink, red, yellow Make: Swirls Behavior: Flickering, spiralling, rapid hue changes A certain sign of insanity. "You should really take a piece of butter with your tea. It brings out the full aroma of the Keokina." The voice came from his right, cut right through Dariel's train of thoughts and his work and startled him enough to make break the tip of his pen on his page, leaving a rather unseemly charcoal stain. Irritated, the young man's head snapped about like the ball at the end of a morning star's chain, eyes narrowing even as they sought out the source of the disruption. Of course it was his dear neighbor. Maybe he'd run out of clients to play host to at his table or maybe curiosity drove him. Or maybe, Dariel considered, maybe he was just a petching bastard who enjoyed this. Even as he whetted his tongue for a vicious lashing, Dariel had to remind himself to remain civil. Whoever the older man was, he was not unimportant in this city and he could not yet afford to make enemies. When his gaze finally focussed on his right-hand neighbor, he was met with a defense that was simple as it was devastating. The gentleman displayed a smile that was as handsome as it seemed genuine and good-natured... not to mention disarming. Before he even knew that he was doing it, Dariel was smiling back and inclining his head low."I shall. Thank you, Master."

[Dariel]

Mature Male -- Perpetually amused He stopped there, eyeing his neighbor once more. He was practically begging for it. Which raised the question whether he knew what Dariel had been up to all along. And if so, what was his game? Was he a fellow mage, seeing all the respect he commanded? The fact that mages were not utterly loathed in Lhavit was the main reason the young man had come here, but was it really that good? His instincts distrusted good things. The older man with the rich black hair turned his head, their gazes met. Dariel smiled on command, raised his tea cup as if to toast his neighbor, inclined his head briefly and took a sip. He had to admit, the butter added to the taste without lessening the tea's flowery qualities. But that was an afterthought in his mind. What did the old man hide? He was certainly preternaturally aware, above and beyond his normal senses. If he further assumed that the man was a fellow initiate of the arts magical, well that would certainly make him the most interesting subject of his current endeavor. Setting down his tea cup, Dariel instead concentrated on his inner energy flow. It was becoming more and more strenuous to access his stores, but tonight's measured approach certainly was far less straining than his attempts in Surya Plaza. He might even stave off a headache tonight. On a more positive note, it was becoming easier and easier to focus his energies, at least for the superficial scans he was conducting here. Speed or deeper insights would still require a stronger push. When the Djed filled his eyes and painted the room in various and diffuse hues of light it felt like welcoming in an old friend. Another location, different people in attendance would change that. But for tonight it was more than comfortable. Focussing his enhanced eyesight on the man to his right he saw... nothing. The man literally had no aura to speak of. Not even a drab one. Not even a pale one. No swirls, no rays, no colors, not even a scent. There was nothing there. He had to be hiding it. Dariel wasn't someone who dealt well with failure, least of all his own. Naturally, he pushed. Nothing. He pushed harder. The older man turned his head once more. He smiled. Dariel pushed and pushed and pushed. Then the world went black. His pulse was still present. In fact it was pounding in his ears. His breath also was present, cooling and drying his tongue with every lungful going in and out. His quick assessment assured him that he was conscious. He'd just gone blind. Knowing as much his next instinct was not to panic. Breathe in, slowly. He was disoriented but not lost. Keep inhaling, take your time. He was still sitting in Mhakula Tea House. Maybe, hopefully, this was a temporary setback. Hold that breath. The Old Crow had mentioned possible backlash from overtaxing one's faculties. Hold it. Was this it? Hold it. Or had the old man at the other table played a trick on him? Now, exhale. Slowly. If so he'd never heard of such an ability. Keep at it. Now wait. Inhale. Had he just seen something? Fill your lungs to the brim. He thought there was a light piercing the darkness, slowly, so very slowly. Now hold it again. There was a brazier in that direction, wasn't there? Keep holding. Movement. He could see movement. And breathe out. His vision was coming back. The rest of his breath just escaped from his body in a restrained sigh. He would have to try this again, if only to see if that had truly been the result of overgiving. Dariel's tea was cold by the time his vision was satisfactory again. The older man had left his table. How long had he been blind for? He couldn't quite tell. There was always some form of light coming in through the windows, and the braziers distorted his reception of the light further. He'd have to make a note. Reaching for his book he found that someone else had written a single word under the unfinished entry: DUSK

[Phoenix]

Dariel

Award

Skill	XP Earned
Auristics	5
Observation	5
Research	2
Organization	1

•	Lores Earned
•	The joys of a good tea
•	Auristics: Rationing ones strength
•	Auristics: Sensing the Djed
•	Learning to manipulate Djed
•	Auristics: Opening ones senses to more
•	Auristics: The Auras of Emotion
•	The magic of a woman’s wiles
•	The butter goes with the Keokina

The Order of the Phoenix

Interesting! I don't think I've read an Auristics thread quite like that before. I gave you research because I thought that Dariel's observation went a little beyond just that with the note taking. I then also gave you an organization point because I thought it very good way of keeping track of the different auras, to write them all down. Good job!

If you have any questions or concerns regarding your grade, please send me a PM and we can figure it out.