B1, Day 2 [public channel]

[whattaprick]

[ There are a lot of things people need to do right now: help the Prince's servants get resettled, get started on figuring out who can work on a cure for the petrification, deal with the trauma of dying in a hopefully healthy and non-self-destructive way, show the new people the ropes of what the Carnival has to work with.

Instead, in the morning of the second day since the Prince was defeated, anyone on the radio gets this: ]

So, I've been wondering.

[ The Nightrider's voice, for those who recognize it, has definitely been better. It's a low, hoarse rasp, and the pause at the end is not just for effect, but to actually catch his breath. ]

Just how old is everyone here, anyway? Here, I'll start. I'm ... pretty sure I'm almost sixty. [ A beat. ] ... Maybe.

[ Why did anyone let this man have his radio back again? ]

[ ooc; Lambert's flat on his back in the medical tent for this, feel free to bug him in person and threadjack each other at will. ]

Comments

[chronosynthesis]

Oh. [Yeah, he can understand that one. Other races are so weirdly indirect about it.] It isn't really pollinating for our race...

But no, that sort of intimacy is much the same for us as it would be for you.

[whattaprick]

[ She'd be cruder, normally, but there are children on the line, and she's the oft-ignored part of Lambert who'd actually try not to use "dick" in front of a kid. ]

So how do more of you get made, then? Or grow.

[chronosynthesis]

We're all born from the Pale Tree, our mother. We develop in pods, like... fruit? And when we are ready to awaken into the world we fall from her branches.

... She is a very large tree, the size of a city. [She literally is a city, but he's tryong to explain this in a way that makes some semblance of sense to Lambert.]

[whattaprick]

So you're all related.

[chronosynthesis]

Yes. [A pause.] It is not the same way which you are related to your family.

[whattaprick]

[ You're catching on to how he thinks, Syr, and Celandine laughs. ]

If you're the first of your kind, where'd the Pale Tree come from? Why did it start making you?

[chronosynthesis]

The story is that her seed was found in a cave by a human named Ronan. He planted it among the graves of his family, and with the centaur Ventari created a sanctuary of peace along the coast.

[His tone is wistful, recounting it. For a young race, they only have so many shared stories and so much lore.]

She was magical to begin, of course. Producing us was natural. But she took their ideals to heart, and imparted Ventari's wisdom to us.

[whattaprick]

Who's Ventari?

[ Short questions to prompt long answers seems to be the smart way to go, when it's Lambert talking. ]

[chronosynthesis]

A... you know what a centaur is? [He knew what dwarves are, but Syrlya couldn't recognize manticores so he can't take that for granted.]

He was someone who wanted to live a peaceful life away from the war of his people. And he and Ronan created a refuge where others could come for safety, and that is where they planted the mother tree. He wrote his beliefs on a stone tablet, and my people have used it as guidance for our place in the world since the Firstborn.

Of course, he died long before we met him. That was a couple centuries ago.

[whattaprick]

Half horse, half man. They're only in stories where we're from, though.. [ Like the world was short on monsters to start... ]

Good story. [ A beat. ] That really how it happened?

[ Somehow, he doubts it. At the very least, in his experience, anyone who tries to go off and live a peaceful life is usually interrupted by people who think they shouldn't. ]

[chronosynthesis]

Mostly? At least the Pale Tree remembers them and their sanctuary, and she still carries Ventari's Tablet in her boughs.

[whattaprick]

That's how cults start, you know.

[ She's joking, probably. ]

[chronosynthesis]

The tenants are open for interpretation. [The eye rolling is practically audible in his voice.] But my people value freedom and free will. The ability to think on your own is precious.

[whattaprick]

[ Celandine giggles at that, and Lambert will respond, with a wry chuckle: ]

So what do you think?

[chronosynthesis]

What do I think about the tenants? [That's what he assumes, but he's going to make sure he's understand right, first.]

[whattaprick]

Yeah. You a believer?

[ Never mind that Syr hasn't actually even told him what they are in the first place. But it's interesting, how much of the Carnival's made up of people who believe in bigger things. Better things. Lambert almost envies them that. ]

[chronosynthesis]

I do. They preach nothing more than to live a life of respect and purpose. It isn't like human religion.

[He's just assuming that's what Lambert is equating it with, anyway. With their worship and temples.]

[whattaprick]

So it's more like a philosophy. Or a creed.

Not all of your people follow it, do they?

[chronosynthesis]

No. Most Dreamers do, but there are many who go off to find their own way entirely. The Nightmare Court actively rejects the tenants as... against our nature. They don't think Sylvari should follow them at all, but they are twisted by violence and cruelty.

[whattaprick]

[ That's a lot of concepts that require explaining, Syr. Fortunately, Celandine and Lambert are bored, and have the time. ]

The fae have courts. Summer and winter, each with their own titles and rank. Is the Nightmare Court like that?

And who are the Dreamers?

[chronosynthesis]

I suppose it is? Their courts are modeled after human class systems, particularly the nobles.

[Lambert is in for all the Sylvari exposition today.] Sylvari are Dreamers. The Dream is... I suppose an origin for our consciousness? That is where Sylvari start, and learn, before we awaken into the world.

We maintain that connection after awakening, but much more distant. That makes us Dreamers. Those who choose to remove themselves from that connection are Soundless.