I can hear the drums in the distance...
Mar. 27th, 2018 07:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hagsfiend posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
spira_rpThe palace, was it? Well, well.
From above, it looked like little more than a curious scratch in the desert, a strange parting of the sands of Dalmasca. Barely visible, really. Not unless you knew what you were looking for, and she did. She had been told that it wasn't accessible from above without an airship, not unless you used the risky, monster-filled cavern routes. To use the hangar entrance, you needed an aiship. A Jagd-proof airship, at that. Any ordinary vessel would have found its navigation instruments locking up, its screens going to static and its engines cutting out. Too much magic in the air, too much magic in the ground. Too much magic for machines. But not too much for her.
Kreeth did not have a ship, Jagd-proof or otherwise. Kreeth didn't need a ship. Ragged-looking though they were, Kreeth's wings were not merely vestigial limbs left only as a decoration like those of the Gria. No, these were immense feathered things, black as ink. They may be trailing over-long primary feathers, but they nonetheless carried her to where she needed to go and, at that moment, she needed to visit the Desert Palace. She tilted her larboard wing and began a sharp, spiraling descent towards a rocky outcrop jutting up from the sands below.
The trip hadn't been anywhere near as long, nor as arduous as she had expected. It had been too unnatural for her to fly on an airship instead of with her own wings, even if not needing to make the crossing from the Purvama of Jylland to Ivalice's Valendian continent under her own steam would have conserved her energy and cut the journey's length in half. Easier though it would have been, she stood out too much. Aegyls didn't choose to grace Ivalice with their presence often and experience in this strange and modern world had taught her that while Mistants were much more prevalent than they had been in the time she called home, they were still looked upon with varying degrees of distrust and suspicion depending on the severity of their affliction. No. It would not do to be seen by too many curious eyes.
And so she'd flown. She had chosen the eastern tip of Lucis as her starting point, using the Mist as only she knew how. She had taken advantage of the air currents over the sea and then switched her flight method to use the thermals that rose up from the Bancouri Wildlands and extensive Dalmascan deserts alike.
She felt the bone-deep ache set in as she alighted on the outcrop, her black garb doing its best to absorb as much of the unforgiving desert heat as it could to compound her fatigue. She folded her wings and entered the Zertinen Caverns. The cool of the cave was welcome after the searing heat of the desert, but it wasn't long before she tired of it. By the time she reached the doors of the subterranean palace, her boots, the hem of her skirt and the trailing feathers of her wings were speckled light with sand. Her pack, slung across her front to prevent it hindering her flight, had been spared.
She could feel presences everywhere. The guard animals bound with any number of arcane magics, the wild animals that prowled the cavern's winding corridors for an unsuspecting meal, the residents sealed up inside the palace. This should be very interesting. Yes, very interesting indeed.
She ascended the steps to the door but hesitated before pressing her palm against the metal-studded wood. If the magic recognised her, the door would open. If it didn't, she would be easy prey for the beasts. Or, perhaps, they would be easy prey for her. Oh well, what will be will be. She touched the door.
A glyph spread out from her hand, glowing a stark opalescent pinkish-white for long enough to sear her dark-adjusted eyes before fading away. When she closed her eyes, she could still see it burning there. That was undoubtedly Kuja's doing. The white monkey had a flare for the dramatic.
She smiled to herself as the door swung open.
"Good, good," she said. No beasts for her, then.
From above, it looked like little more than a curious scratch in the desert, a strange parting of the sands of Dalmasca. Barely visible, really. Not unless you knew what you were looking for, and she did. She had been told that it wasn't accessible from above without an airship, not unless you used the risky, monster-filled cavern routes. To use the hangar entrance, you needed an aiship. A Jagd-proof airship, at that. Any ordinary vessel would have found its navigation instruments locking up, its screens going to static and its engines cutting out. Too much magic in the air, too much magic in the ground. Too much magic for machines. But not too much for her.
Kreeth did not have a ship, Jagd-proof or otherwise. Kreeth didn't need a ship. Ragged-looking though they were, Kreeth's wings were not merely vestigial limbs left only as a decoration like those of the Gria. No, these were immense feathered things, black as ink. They may be trailing over-long primary feathers, but they nonetheless carried her to where she needed to go and, at that moment, she needed to visit the Desert Palace. She tilted her larboard wing and began a sharp, spiraling descent towards a rocky outcrop jutting up from the sands below.
The trip hadn't been anywhere near as long, nor as arduous as she had expected. It had been too unnatural for her to fly on an airship instead of with her own wings, even if not needing to make the crossing from the Purvama of Jylland to Ivalice's Valendian continent under her own steam would have conserved her energy and cut the journey's length in half. Easier though it would have been, she stood out too much. Aegyls didn't choose to grace Ivalice with their presence often and experience in this strange and modern world had taught her that while Mistants were much more prevalent than they had been in the time she called home, they were still looked upon with varying degrees of distrust and suspicion depending on the severity of their affliction. No. It would not do to be seen by too many curious eyes.
And so she'd flown. She had chosen the eastern tip of Lucis as her starting point, using the Mist as only she knew how. She had taken advantage of the air currents over the sea and then switched her flight method to use the thermals that rose up from the Bancouri Wildlands and extensive Dalmascan deserts alike.
She felt the bone-deep ache set in as she alighted on the outcrop, her black garb doing its best to absorb as much of the unforgiving desert heat as it could to compound her fatigue. She folded her wings and entered the Zertinen Caverns. The cool of the cave was welcome after the searing heat of the desert, but it wasn't long before she tired of it. By the time she reached the doors of the subterranean palace, her boots, the hem of her skirt and the trailing feathers of her wings were speckled light with sand. Her pack, slung across her front to prevent it hindering her flight, had been spared.
She could feel presences everywhere. The guard animals bound with any number of arcane magics, the wild animals that prowled the cavern's winding corridors for an unsuspecting meal, the residents sealed up inside the palace. This should be very interesting. Yes, very interesting indeed.
She ascended the steps to the door but hesitated before pressing her palm against the metal-studded wood. If the magic recognised her, the door would open. If it didn't, she would be easy prey for the beasts. Or, perhaps, they would be easy prey for her. Oh well, what will be will be. She touched the door.
A glyph spread out from her hand, glowing a stark opalescent pinkish-white for long enough to sear her dark-adjusted eyes before fading away. When she closed her eyes, she could still see it burning there. That was undoubtedly Kuja's doing. The white monkey had a flare for the dramatic.
She smiled to herself as the door swung open.
"Good, good," she said. No beasts for her, then.
