Entering the Chronoscape

The warrior grimaced as he tried to pick himself up from... wherever he had just landed. The world was a haze of color and light he would rather avoid, there was a distinct metallic tang in his mouth and he couldn't hear for the ringing set on deafening him. There were far too many questions in his mind presently, but as he dragged himself up, gripping a planter to steady himself, he knew one thing; He was beginning to severely dislike portals. Claws scored the stone before he vomited, and raised voices caught his attention. The soldier turned, for all the world an Abrendese himself as the enchantments took their grip and his form matched the world he had plummeted into. Jet black hair spilled down his shoulders and back in soft waves and masked the storm grey eyes as he glared the strangers down. Still clinging to the stone to avoid falling over, but grimaced for so much motion. Slightly pointed ears pinned as much as was possible as the world swam, not helped by the voices all clamoring at him. He had fallen somewhere of note, then, he recognized the tone and official drabble though his mind refused to latch onto words properly. The rain was a relief, sky splitting open after the unstable magic that had spat him out. It was blacker than night over Corli, despite being half past noon and sunny not ten minutes before.
Thunder cracked over head and lightning roiled in the clouds, lighting them like fireworks. He grimaced, but glanced up into it, eyes lidding as focus tilted, anchoring the storm and snapping the erratic tendrils before they could boil over and cause havoc here. The leather at his throat crackled with the energy, absorbing it to refill his blasted reserves, and he brushed the same. Unconciously ensuring it was still solid, still working, before he sagged to the ground. He would have a long time yet before they had much chance of getting home, it seemed. If he were honest with himself Astarote wouldn't have known what he expected on opening his eyes again. Sun intruded, made tolerable with drapery and curtains that sequestered him. His clothes, and armor, had been replaced.

The first thought that brought was recovering the same, but he wasn't uncomfortable by any means. Moving seemed still to be beyond him, but he tried, and toppled again as he was almost nose to nose with a gryphon. It took him a breath to register the wings were wrong, and he seemed to have armored plating. Not a gryphon then, at least not one he knew, the stryzga hissed, but managed not to vomit for the abrupt motion. "Hello?" he murmured, voice muffled by the sheets and his arm where he had burrowed to avoid the too-close face. "Luci, give him some room."  The soft voice made him pause, and he peered out again, blinking as he noticed the pink deer standing beside the 'gryphon' curious, but still spread too thin to fully focus on much. Slowly he tried to close himself down more, a checklist through his mind; injured... not notably, there were aches and bruises but that was to be expected given the explosive tumble he had faced. Nothing seemed broken and he was able to move relatively well. "My name is Rose, this is Lucis." he nodded, but grimaced as he tried to speak. He needed water, something to drink, his throat felt like someone had gone at it with sandpaper. They nodded a gratitude when a shadow coalesced one into his grip, the threat of being drugged currently less than that of dehydration he downed the same. Managing to focus somewhat more on he pair, "Assst-" he grimaced at the rasp, but swallowed, "Astarote, pleasure... madame?" He tried again, managing a weak smile for the stranger.

He rose slowly as they were bekoned, still a bit shaky on his feet, but hid it with practiced ease. Moving into the large sitting room and grimacing a bit for the sunlight. He would need to get out and get something to eat soon, but for now he studied the stranger he faced. White hair was tousled across his head and melded to pale skin and shades of silver and white. Robes, but he didn't take the stranger for a mage.
He blinked when the boy spoke, "So, what brings you here?" The voice was too calm, but he shook his head, "Not everyday i have visitors drop on me, tea?" That made him pause, studying the array of food and cups set out, ducking his head a fraction and claiming the opposite seat. "Honey," He requested, "and milk, if you please?" he requested, watching as his host - it seemed - complied. Accepting the steaming cup greatfully and sighing for the heat of it as it soothed his aching throat. Silently taking stock of his state and reserves, bottomed out still. It would be a while before he managed to return home. That meant he would need to learn of this world, and it seemed for the moment his host was the best route to the same.
"Afraid I am not entirely certain," He admitted once his throat burned less, there was no reason to hide the same, "If had been intended, it would have been far quieter. Seems was pulled off course, quite explosively." There was a note of appology to the words, and he was pointedly ignoring the glaring non-gryphon beside the stranger. The pink doe on his other side, perfectly polite as she settled.

A smaller creature hopped up nearby, smiling, but stared as discretely as... she?... could manage. Black and red, almost birdlike. "I am Alistair St. James," the words brought him back fully, "My dragons are Rose, Luci and Thrya." That made him pause, "Dragons...?" He echoed, surprised, but refocused. "Astarote, a pleasure, Alistair."  he returned before he could be deemed rude for his distraction. His focused, listening intently to the explanations he got, though Thyra's attempts at getting far too much information from him were far too amusing. Instinctively he played the old Beryn card, country bumpkin flowing smoothly and melding into the practised manners of his station.