Zalgi-man or Puppet

Log Info

• Title: Zalgi-man or Puppet

• Emitter: Telamon

• Characters: Patch, Ravenstongue, Telamon

• Place: Ravenstongue and Telamon's house

• Summary: Telamon's testing out his first brew from the magical libations book, the Night's Kiss, and Ravenstongue is making dinner for the evening when Patch arrives. They invite her in and take the opportunity to share what they know about the totems and Zalgiman. In return, Patch informs the group that Zalgiman is running what appears to be a rather complicated and sordid operation--and that it appears Ravenstongue's had a lasting effect on the man's psyche. Ravenstongue instructs Patch to find and meet up with the Redeemer Dolan at a later point in time.

Lúpecyll-Atlon home, early evening.

"Double, double, toil and trouble.

Fire burn and cauldron bubble."

Well, that's the old story of how evil magicians brew potions. Telamon, fortunately, is less interested in brewing 'toil and trouble' and more interested in crafting a magical liquor. Having spent yesterday evening combining ingredients, along with an expensive plum wine purchased from the Vintner, he now holds up the bottle dubiously. Tiny flickers of light in the dark depths, a match for his eyes.

Leaving the study, cradling the bottle in his hands, he calls to Cor'lana, "Well, I think it's finished. The recipe said the mixing had to be at night, and then it had to sit for the span of a half day, so I think it's ready." He sits down on the couch, setting the bottle down on the table. "'The Night's Kiss'. That's what the book called it."

While Telamon's occupied brewing the magical liquor, Cor'lana's occupied in the living room. When Telamon left the room to brew, she was in the middle of revising some poetry in her journal and scowling at her handwriting like it'd turned into a particularly ugly toad in the garden. However, now that he enters the room, it seems that all poetry revision attempts have been abandoned, the journal put onto the table next to a bowl of peanuts... and Pothy sitting comfortably in Lana's lap, receiving lots of love and affection.

In fact, Cor'lana looks up at Telamon in the middle of kissing Pothy on his fluffy little head. She smirks. "Brilliant timing on that one, then," she says, "although Pothy's more of a daytime than a night time, I think."

"Can I try?" Pothy asks. This is asked with a little bit of cheek, like Pothy fully expects Telamon to tell him no.

Telamon gestures for his unseen servitor to bring some glasses. "Assuming Lana has no objections. I have a proposal for you though, Pothy." As three small brandy snifters waft over to come to rest on the table, Tel continues, "There was another recipe I saw that calls for the feather of a 'magical bird'. I'm not going to be so bold as to try and take one from you, so... I figured I'd ask the most magical bird I know."

He grins a bit at his sally, as he holds up the bottle, displaying the contents. What was once plum wine is definitely now something different, especially as there are twinkling stars visible through the clear glass of the bottle. Every motion makes the stars shift as well, but it's still strange. When the unseen servant takes the bottle and uncaps it, Tel continues, "In any case, after reviewing the book, none of the recipes seem outright dangerous, but some are described somewhat... obliquely. I have an idea as to why."

While the drink is poured, he says, "I think the book is a translation from Sylvan into Sildanyari. Which means... yeah, it might be recipes originally collected from the fey. Remember the pixies and their drink?"

Pothy blinks as Telamon... doesn't tell him no. "You mean I can? Really? Lana, please? I know I'm not much of a drinking bird, but..."

Cor'lana snickers--presumably trying to picture Pothy as one of the little 'drinking bird' curios that are sold in eclectic shops. "Okay," she says. "But only a little. I have no idea how a magic bird is going to handle magic alcohol."

Pothy's tail feathers wag up and down happily. "Yay!" he says. "For that, you can take as many feathers as you want--err, leave enough on me so I don't look like a plucked chicken, but you get what I mean!"

Cor'lana, meanwhile, observes the color of the altered wine, tilting her head. "Tel, it looks like your eyes," she says with a grin. "In which case, if you're right about them being fey recipes, that means one of Grandfather's kin has some superb taste."

The snifters are fairly small anyways -- a reflection of Telamon not wanting to overdo it on the first pass. "It does, doesn't it?" He studies one of the snifters. "I can still see the stars too. It's not particulates, either."

He smiles at Pothy, reaching out to pet the raven. "I'll let Lana handle it. I don't want to accidentally hurt you, or worse, mess up you pinions." He looks thoughtful. "I'm not certain they're fey recipes. They may be derived from fey recipes. There's an interesting comment in Costin Meadows's On Plants and Potion Brewing that talks about how some elixirs are adaptations of older draughts from the First World. Imitations, but flattering ones."

The Lúpecyll-Atlon home was due a visitor, but the time of Patch's arrival makes her early for that dinner. It seems she's come for other things. She stands alone, knocking a light rap against the door as she waits in the porch entryway. An ear twitches as eyes sweep over the exterior, and then back towards the path she came as she adjust an instrument case she carries over her shoulder with a strap.

Pothy's tail wags up and down as he's pet, letting out a few croaks in that 'raven purr' manner that he does when he's happy. "Well, my opinion is that my pinions are the best," he says cheerfully, his true voice rather delivering on his childlike qualities.

Cor'lana just rolls her eyes and grins. "Pothy, you are adorable," she says. "Let me go check on that pie before I sit down and drink, or I'm going to forget it's in there and it'll burn to a crisp."

Then the knock comes from the door. "Oh, well, I can go take care of that first," Cor'lana comments. She relocates Pothy from her lap to her shoulder and walks to the front door, opening it with a smile as she sees Patch. "Oh, hello!" Cor'lana says. "Come on in."

"Hi Patch," Pothy says. ...Except it's not a mimicry of Cor'lana's voice like almost everything that has come out of his mouth in front of Patch has been. He sounds like a rather cherubic and elegant little boy, but in the body of a white raven.

Cor'lana can't help but grin. "Look at you, being sweet," she says to Pothy, before she opens the door a little wider. "Come on in. Dinner's still cooking, but I'm sure Pothy will be more than happy to share snacks with you."

Telamon stands, of course, like a gentleman when he hears Cor'lana greet Patch. But he also makes a gesture, and soon another snifter comes floating out, borne by the unseen servant, who sets it down. "We are also experimenting," he says with mock gravitas and seriousness, "with a concoction I have brewed. You're welcome to try it as well."

The bottle is hovering in the air, waiting politely for Patch's response, as Tel continues, "Oh, and don't be surprised at Pothy. We had the house enchanted to translate his words so I don't have to keep casting spells to understand him."

Patch had been expecting words at her arrival, but the ones received were clearly not what were expected. A smile spreads across her lips, a soft nod given as her glance falls upon Pothy. "Hello, Pothy. I'm glad you're feeling better buddy." honest and soft words as she bard adjusts her case, and enters once bid. "Thank you. Apologies for.... coming over so suddenly." an apologetic smile flashed, but her usual animated self is lacking.

"If I had known it was a party, I'd of brought something." Patch's attention drawn to Telamon with both words, and the sounds of his rummaging for glass. "You don't have to go through so much trouble, really. I..." a bit awkward in this place, shifting and unsure. "So.. was his voice a choice? Or is that how he thinks he should sound?" speaking of the enchantment.

Cor'lana leads Patch into the house. The odd thing that can immediately be noticed is that there's small vines that decoratively adorn the walls and curl around the furniture. There's occasionally a small flower or two here and there as well. The furniture is somewhat of an eclectic mesh of styles underneath the accents of greenery that somehow... makes it work, and also seems to fit the half-elves. (But it might give a home decorator in the Nobility District a fit.)

There's a rather large rocking chair in the corner of the room that's empty, as well as the couch that Telamon is sitting on and a coffee table next to it, containing a bowl of peanuts (presumably Pothy's snacks). And finally, another chair that's closer to the kitchen, which has the smell of something rather lovely cooking in the brick oven.

Pothy takes flight and settles on the coffee table, taking a peanut from the bowl and cracking it open. "It's how I've sounded since I was created. I think. I don't remember my early years too well," he replies, answering for himself. "And I do feel better. I'm sorry I worried you."

"Pothy is a rather long-lived bird," Cor'lana says, pausing to pat him on the head. "He was my mother's familiar, and her father's familiar, and so on and so forth. Mother's bloodline is where I get the lion's share of my magic from--anyway, please, take a seat. I just want to check on the pie and let it cook a little longer."

She ducks into the kitchen. Pothy, meanwhile, looks up at Patch... and he holds out a peanut to her in his beak. "Snack?" he asks.

Telamon clears his throat. "Familiars are typically bound up with the life of their summoner, but Pothy is... a little different. Still... I've always appreciated that he's been Lana's closest and best friend." His lips quirk. "When I proposed to her, I made sure I had his approval as well."

The bottle floats in midair, pouring a fourth snifter of arcane wine for the newly arrived guest. "Please, Patch, sit down. I imagine you have questions -- and my state of mind the other day was..." He pauses, his expression becoming wry. "...less than convivial. For that I apologize."

"Oh, aren't you a charmer." Patch says to Pothy, taking that peanut with two fingers, using a third to rub his head after her praise. The seat close to the kitchen is chosen, her case set beside it as she nestles there. It's mostly because it has a better view towards the kitchen, but also the most saturated with the sweet scent of pie.

Fiddling with the peanut, Patch had found herself nodding to Telamon's words. "There are questions, but it also seems... I have pieces to this story you do not." the bard notes, cracking the nut, and a piece of it's contents is tossed in her mouth as she makes sure it's clear of bits of shell. "Though an apology is not needed, we're all about on the same page I suspect." waving off his words with a smirk finding it's way upon her lips. "It's not as if I was nice either." conceding with a breath, eyes seeking the kitchen. "I didn't expect pie and drinks. More a boot and holler."

There's a bit of a noise from the kitchen--a yelp, actually. "Oooh, hot!" Cor'lana complains, and then she sets the pie back into the brick oven.

She walks back out into the living room and smiles. "Sorry about that, my pinky grazed the dish just for a second. Don't worry about it, Patch. These are... very chaotic times. Which is why the house is warded against evil."

She takes a seat next to Telamon on the couch. "So. I guess we should start with the facts. Caracoroth, the Hound, is an evil god who is imprisoned. There are chains that keep the evil god at bay, created by the Gods of Light and the other Gods of Evil, as even the Tyrant and the others fear what the Hound could do if unleashed."

Cor'lana sighs. "The totem that I... came into possession of from Zalgiman is essentially one of those chains. If someone who worships or is aligned with the gods of Light attunes to one by bleeding on it, it changes shape and strengths the chain that it is attuned to. If one of the Hound's worshippers gets it, it turns back into an ugly, twisted thing, and that weakens the chain attached to that totem."

Telamon picks up one of the wineglasses, and his expression becomes more serious. "Worse, there are ways to destroy those totems. Which, of course, looses the chain upon the Hound. Needless to say, this is a bad thing." With that, he takes a long sip from his glass.

"Each one of the totems was crafted by one of the gods. Seven from the gods of light, and six by the gods of darkness. The gods of twilight do not interfere with them." He inclines his head. "The fact that the other six gods of darkness agreed to help bind the Hound is an indication of how serious the threat is, should he free himself."

"Yeah, I knew about all of that." Patch says with calm tone, shaking her head. "I know of the totems, the multiples of them, and that Zalgiman is gathering forces, and spending coin..." her glance darting between the two with a furrowed brow. "I looked into his finances. I looked into his daily life, and business dealings. I followed him through the city and into the woods. People are disappearing. His circle is growing." her words coming with a sigh as she gives a rapid and abbreviated version.

"I was asked to look into these things, to investigate, and I have. The man is either complicit, or the stupidest moron to ever walk within this city's walls. After he failed to answer Seldan--" Her glance meeting Telamon. "--You know where I sit on that opinion I'd hope."

"Zalgiman tried to ambush me, but they didn't know where I was. I spotted them and disengaged." Patch admits, crossing one leg over another as she settles into her seat, a smile flashed for Cor'lana. "Do be careful... I don't want you rushing and hurting yourself on my count." Words polite, and the smile real. It's the next words that make her look away. "I admit, I did not know each one of the totems was carved by a different god... that is news."

"I think he's complicit. Has to be," Cor'lana replies. She goes for one of those wine glasses now and takes a sip herself. "I'm just glad you weren't hurt when he tried to ambush you. Now that you're talking to us, though... I recommend you talk to Dolan, too. He's a Redeemer of Daeus, and he's kind of been keeping tabs on all of this--all of the current totem holders and everything. He's also going to be one of our groomsmen at our wedding... Once the wight situation in the countryside is dealt with and we can travel to the Mythwood for the wedding, anyway."

Pothy finally pipes up. "I want to taste wedding cake," he says. "It's been such a long time since I had any. I miss it." Then he cracks another peanut--and offers another wordlessly to Patch. So sweet.

Telamon takes another sip from his glass. "Hmm. This is good. It still tastes like the plum, but it's... different." He nods to Lana, eyes flicking back to Patch. "There are heroes here, and allies, but you sometimes have to look. Dolan is aware of things. Mourner Verna, and her lady, Auranar. Sir Seldan -- though he is having difficulty bringing his own attention to bear on it, due to other matters."

He sits back on the couch. "But yes. I had entertained the idea that he was simply a fool, but... no." He snorts. "He stinks of deceit, and ill intent. Of course... he also doesn't have the totem. Which makes me wonder who does have it, because if it had fallen into his hands, or the hands of another Hound cultist, why show up at all? Why continue the charade?"

He leans his head back, and stares at the ceiling. And blinks. "...Uhm..."

Patch snorts a laugh. "He's scared of the delegation from Llryost. Don't sugar coat it. He has his troubles, but I don't blame him. I'd of done the same." Patch's words amused at the mention of Seldan. "I have told that man I was hunting wolf and wight, but I think people... dismissed, or didn't truly believe my words."

A scent is caught, the poured glasses catching her nose as she leans to take that small piece of peanut. "Do you feed all the guests, Pothy? I can see why you're a popular little one." Patch muses in break from the topic, taking some time to mull the words as she listens, popping the peanut in her mouth.

"He has the money to pay for mercenaries. The kind of circle of corruption that such favors grant power. You think the totem is gone... it's likely reclaimed and ferreted off to his camp. He has a whole operation that goes unseen, but I don't have the eyes to cover all of it. After what happened, he's likely to panic." The Bard reasons, this topic draining, and causing her to shift in that chair. "What is it you're drinking? It's scent is nice."

"Indeed, there's not a single bad word to be uttered of Seldan in this household," Cor'lana replies with a fond smile. "He's a good man. He's simply had to deal with more than anyone ought to--which describes so many of us in the adventuring profession. Myself included, and... Well, Telamon's had to deal with his own fair share of oddities, but he's also had to support me through my own troubles. It's why he's so protective of me."

She can't help but lean in and peck Telamon on the cheek and grin as she turns to her glass of wine. "It's a magical wine that Telamon's conjured. We bought a curious book of magical alcoholic concoctions and Telamon's decided to try one. This one, for instance... Is appearing to make the ceiling look like Telamon's eyes."

Pothy makes a sound like a sigh. "She means that the ceiling is full of stars," he clarifies for Patch. "If you stick around long enough and they forget you're there, you'll probably hear Lana calling him her 'starborn prince', too."

Cor'lana colors a little, but she just shrugs her shoulders. "It's true," she says. "Seriously, just look at his eyes. Full of stars. Don't worry, I'm not the type to be jealous just because someone looked at him."

Pothy just hands Patch another peanut. "It's a trap," he says in a mock-stage whisper. "Just eat peanuts with me. A lot safer." Followed by a cute little boyish giggle.

Telamon keeps staring at the ceiling for a moment, before taking another sip. "It's definitely different. I didn't conjure it -- you have to start with something, and it requires alchemy to properly make. It's similar to brewing a potion, but not as strenuous." He finally looks at Lana, and chuckles. "You say that now, but you weren't exactly keen when the pixies gave you that elixir that made another of you."

Turning back to Patch, his eyes sparkling, Telamon continues, "But no, I wouldn't say Seldan is afraid of the Llyranost delegation. More like it's less stressful if he doesn't have to engage in pitched battles in the streets because they're pissed he took away their safety blanket."

"Seldan is a man I'd trust. I just do not agree with his take on avoiding his conflict. Though, his dislike of them may not rival mine." Patch says, openly admitting she cares little of her home, her glance falling away. "Though that story sounds as if it's only begun, and here we are talking of other evils." managing a laugh.

"You need not worry, Little-Friend." A hand taking that peanut with another rub of finger against the crest of his head. "Peanuts and company are a great distraction. I'll even promise not to be reckless." she chimes, giving the Raven a few small attentions and brushes before she stops her doting.

"Starborn price..." Patch pondering this nickname, her lips soon showing a broad smile. "Haven't you given the Crimson Pen enough fuel to burn you?" teasing Cor'lana and watching the drink and merriment. "

Pothy's tail goes up and down as Patch administers his second-favorite thing in the world: affection. "Promise me anything, so long as we can be friends and have lots of snacks together," he says happily.

Cor'lana smirks a little. "I have a feeling we all share the same opinion," she says. "I have plenty of reason to dislike Llyranost, even if I was born there. That is a story that is long and complicated. Unlike the Crimson Pen, which, as you note, will probably be conjuring up some fanciful lie about me long enough."

"You did make a swordsman fall in love with you by charming him, though. That was true," Pothy butts in.

Cor'lana snorts. "I was only trying to get him to stop attacking us. I didn't think the charm magic would go all the way to dumbfounded stupefaction. And I also didn't think Zalgiman would be distracted by a pair of really rather unimpressive assets. My reputation has been massively blown out of proportion. Now my mother, she earned hers."

Telamon laughs softly. "Reputations can be hard to dislodge once they become set in place. But, to return to something Patch brought up: while Zalgiman may have mercenaries and money, I don't think he has the totem. There's no point in showing up at the temple to posture -- hells, it was dangerous for him. What if his cover had been blown there?" He shakes his head. "No, I think someone lifted the totem quietly. An interesting dilemma."

He reaches over to pat Lana's hand. "It's all right, dear. These things happen with charms, and you always seem to take it so personally when you overdo it. Don't let it get to you."

"I think that's partly why he showed up." Patch reasons back to Telamon. "He had answers that were already set to blame, and cause discord. Depravity, ruinous, and slander to hide a trail of madness and darkness. I could be wrong, but I have witnessed his wealth, and seen what he does with it. People don't come back from his day trips to the forest... and those who do seem to serve his circle." her mind fixated on that, but with a shake of her head she tsks. "I don't know for sure. It's true... but I have suspicions. He struts as if he's made of mithril, and it irks me. He thinks his reach is endless, and his pockets are almost so."

"None of your 'assets' are unimpressive, Dear. I would vouch to the opposite if there was a vote. Zalgiman is wrong on a lot of things, but for once he was right, even if creepy, and gross." A wink shot to Cor'lana from the bard, her mirth recovering a bit as she thinks on the switching topics. "He's gross... and he's stupid. That's why I feel it's exactly what he'd do. Middle-men make all the mistakes."

Cor'lana snickers. "Thank you, Patch," she says, "but I know I'm not exactly as well-endowed as my mother was. She would have had him drooling on the floor--and that's before casting a spell to scramble his brains. I'm not there yet in terms of magical potency."

"I'm glad you clarified it was the magic, because the ship has sailed on you growing any more," Pothy says as he snaps open another peanut. "Lana got to all of five feet tall when she was fourteen and stopped growing after that."

That gets an eyeroll from Cor'lana. "He is gross. Which is why I told him as such as we made our exit. Maybe he's just upset that he really never had a chance with me."

Pothy looks up from his peanuts. "Oh no. That's the alcohol beginning to talk," he murmurs.

Telamon drains his glass, looking unconvinced. "Hm. Regardless, I think it might be time for us to gather some allies and have a little talk with Zalgiman where he can't run away quite so easily." His eyes glitter for a moment, before subsiding. "Were you ever able to put your hands on a sample of that rotgut he was passing around? The 'Worg'?"

He snickers lightly at Lana and Pothy jousting. "Well, Pothy, he really didn't have a chance. Lana has much better taste than that. Granted, my opinion may be somewhat biased."

"Biased is better than tainted." Patch observes, standing from her seat and reaching for her case as she eyes Telamon as she speaks. "I need more eyes on him, but I threw out my cover and he now knows my face." her smile broadening with a shrug. "I just needed Seldan and others to see it. That he isn't serving what and who he claims." she explains, smile fading at her own thoughts and words. "My fear is people have already died, or been corrupted with his lies, and bribing."

"Oh, I'd say he was obsessed. Your name was in every other sentence he uttered. He's captivated." Patch muses, having to change the topic with a short reprieve and jest about Zalgiman. "Though luckily you are claimed by a man who'd defend your honor." her case hoisted over her shoulder.

"I will speak with Dolan, and see what comes of it." A short bow given, even a flair of arm with her free hand. "For now I have some other things that need tending. If you'd excuse me." Turning as she makes towards the door.

Cor'lana laughs. "I am very lucky. Luckiest of all, but then again... I'm biased," she replies, bouncing off the refrain that seems to have been started.

"Flee while you can!" Pothy urges Patch, playfulness in his voice. "Next thing you know, they'll start making out on the couch!"

That gets an even bigger laugh out of Cor'lana, barely holding onto her wineglass. "Pothy! We'd at least wait for her to leave!" she says. "Please, Patch, come around whenever you'd like. This place is safe from evil--and I'm almost always home unless I'm out in the Theatre District with Pothy. Or... at the market buying snacks for Pothy."

"The bird eats like a starving oruch," Telamon mock-grumbles, but he rises to walk Patch to the door. "However, I second the invitation. This is a place of refuge, and we're always willing to entertain guests. The tea -- and wine -- are good, the pixies are cheerful sorts, and as Lana says, it's warded. It's no palace, but it's ours, and it's a good place to heal your wounds, whatever they may be."

He smiles at Patch genially, as the door is opened. "Take care out there, and watch yourself. We need all the help we can get these days, what with wights, werewolves, and whatever else is over the horizon."

OOC

Title is a very bad reference to "Man or Muppet" from the 2011 Muppets movie. (No, I don't know why I'm like this.) --Editor RT