The Shining Wyrm

9.5

Jewel found it frustratingly difficult to engage Lord Sorcerer Urul the Written Weird in conversation.

For one, she was flying for most of the day.

For two, he was apparently completely incapable of actual audible speech.

For three, he actually seemed to prefer to take substantial periods of time between hearing what you said and his own responses.

Which made ‘conversing’ with him far more of an exercise in speaking to him at length before he returned with a page full of thoughtful and incredibly formal responses.

It was like exchanging letters more than actually speaking.

And it was further made awkward because in Jewel’s case she was mostly speaking to the empty air of the wind in flight or the occasional fluttering pages of illuminated manuscript that rode along with her as if caught in her wake.

I once again repeat myself that It heartens me greatly to know that you find such honor in my words, Lady Jewel of Rochford. In answer to your many queries and boundless curiosity, the following are my findings on these matters both mundane and sorcerous:

I do indeed still eat as you have deftly observed all wizards do. It is in the nature of all living things to need to draw out sustenance from the world around them.

In fact one of the sure signs of risen dead is their lack of true consumption, although some yet feel the hunger and appetite of life for all it does them no good.

So yes, expect nearly all but the most far gone into their truths of Weirds to eat as any living being would, Lady Jewel.

Furthermore I also draw breath and in taking it inscribe its vitality upon my pages. I am curious to hear of your own thoughts on this matter as the Esteemed Sorcerer Tsulogothulan spoke highly of insights they are yet still investigating in the topic as pertains to the rotting or reviving quality of waters.

I have in my studies found that in mining there is much concern regarding accursed air and its nature but much is hearsay, superstition and secrets coveted highly as miner lore. Alas, there has been no Wizard of a truth compatible with metallurgy in well over a century among the circles and his words upon the matter were steeped in frivolities endlessly expounding on sacred fire and degrading rust.

I believe that there is a fundamental problem of paradigm in the understanding of any given Wizard or to a greater degree Weird in the quality of their truth and its applicability to the nature of others truths. I am of the opinion although not all of the circles agree (which is their mistake) that all sorcerous truths that can be said to beget wizardom are but different sights of the same whole as taken from each of the positions upon which we first set forth in our path to power and purity.

But as we each go deeper into our truths we are in approaching this truth overwhelmed by only our part of it, as one’s eyes are filled by approaching the foothills of a great mountain peak and in doing so lose the greater whole.

I am more partial to the berry of the black pepper plant well dried and crushed fresh upon a haunch of mutton, actually. Saffron does make for a wonderful pigment for cloth dye but I admit having never thought to imbibe it for a flavoring before.

The latest reply from the Written Weird required some concentration to try and remember just which questions she had actually asked to prompt the text elegantly written on the page before her.

She had not realized how she was going to be answered when this started and it had taken almost an hour from her first starting to ask Urul before she actually got the reply.

Jewel really should have expected that all her conversation would be closer to correspondence. Urul was the written weird after all! Every reply was in the form of pages that deftly remained six or so feet ahead of her nose as she flew along in the air.

It was a bit disorienting to be reading while also in air passing leagues by on the wing and had taken some getting used to.

After the first reply, however, she learned that if she kept her questions to only a few in number the actual delay would be shortened.

Urul the Weird took his time formulating replies and every single page was a treasure that Jewel would have had to labor for half a day or more on to match in the clear precision, beautiful illustration and embellishments of rich inks and metal leaf.

She found it humorous his various additions that often had little to nothing to do with his words. illustrating knights facing off against monstrously vast snails, dancing dogs, griffons and other lairspawn along side commoners and lords in clothes and forms of dress Jewel had never seen before.

It was, despite the awkwardness of delay in the correspondence, quite an improvement in relieving her boredom as she made sweeps up and down the army’s marching line. They had left Rochford and the demesne of any lord allied to Viznove.

The Gryphon Riders were making a sport of hunting game as they flew with the army now and more and more of their words and the necessity of spotting signs of village smoke and fields on the horizon was of concern to be passed between the Generals.

Second General Kliatbatrn was of a mind that they should delay the forage until the return from the siege (or the battle if Thurzó took up their offering to engage).

From the morning counsel Jewel knew that First General Count Fiebron was more interested in doing a light forage of the villagers on their approach to subdue them and conserve supply for the siege.

Furthermore, he thought that the plunder would help bloody some of their levy and reinforce morale to stall out all but the most cowardly in the army deserting.

Jewel heard a lot of reasoning in both directions that morning. But had not actually noticed exactly which way the decision had settled.

Still in either case, Jewel and the other Gryphon riders were making sweeps and keeping count and position of the villages and which would be closest to the path the Army was marching along.

Dutifully conferring and verifying with Count Fiebron and Father and most importantly (according to both of them) keeping her superior eyes sharp on the horizon to catch sight of any other Flyers.

They were still only a quarter of a day’s march into the territories that had fallen behind Thurzó and the Realm for their treachery, so it was unlikely they would be engaged this far from his primary muster.

But this was not a certainty.

A Gryphon could fly far and fast, especially with good wind — and it was blowing against them today.

Jewel made the flight cant towards one of the pages around her the sign for attentive.

The Wizard had not known of the language of Gryphon riders and requested Jewel give him a short explanation of them and the various signs for what might very well be a new book he was going to write.

He still was not sufficiently fluent to follow the banter, gossip and reports passing between the Gryphon Riders on scouting duty with Jewel, but he knew enough to understand she needed to have her view unobstructed for the moment and hold off on any of his correspondence.

Jewel peered intently over the hill sides and the sliver of glowing sky that hugged over the lower mountains ahead of them.

It was trickier to spot a Gryphon who could launch from a cliff than one vaulting into open air from a low valley.

They needed less initial push and thus disturbed the trees and wind far less when bounding off a cliff face or mountain peak.

However with a few more sweeps with a considering gaze Jewel saw nothing in the air larger than some Jackdaws.

She quickly made a flex and sweep with her arms to sign to Urul clear skies.

A moment later another page unfurled in front of her and Jewel turned her attention to roving her gaze over the wonderful illustrations and intricately embellished text.