Difference between revisions of "Lasabeth's Lice pt2"

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(Created page with "<div style="padding:5px; background-color:#e7eaea;"> == Log Info == *Title: Lasabeth's Lice pt2 *Emitter: Jinks *Characters: Eztli, Nemori, Slixvah *Place: Lower Trades *Time: July 14th, 2022 </div> <pre>-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= The Players =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Nemori 3m 4'10" 110 Lb Mul'niessa Female A tall and slender, dark skinned elf. Slixvah 0s 5'8" 130 Lb Eaglefolk...")
 
 
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Eztli and Nemori had left Ananias stirring supper and wallowing in his misery, the pair teetering between annoyance, disgust, and perhaps a modicum of pity for the philanderer. The once-again font for otherworldly power had told him where to find her the next day, offering a cure for his problem in exchange for information.
<Log soon..>
 
   
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He'd been less than concrete in his commitment so it might be surprising to find the portly Tsuran leaning against the low wall and tall beam of the smithy's. The nervous man fidgets and shifts and scratches at a pudgy cheek half-hidden under a scarlet wrap that's equal parts cowl and scarf. A simple beige tunic and brown breeches are accented by yellow, orange, and red belts and his dagger has a jeweled pommel and knuckle guard.
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For as small as he's trying to make himself-- pressed against a support beam as he is-- he's done a poor job of dressing down for the occassion.
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It's fortunate for him that the sun hasn't risen, yet, and a thick fog muddles the details of the dark, pre-dawn world. Scattered noises from every direction signal the coming-to-life of various workshops and tradehouses.
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Eztli had taken off the day before when things didn't seem to be going anywhere, and potentially worse, to clear her mind and see if the man would show up the next day. She certainly wasn't expecting the aid rendered to be a multi day task, but she did offer in the first place.
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And perhaps having some more aid from Slixvah would help, so the small makari sought out the egalrin when she was able to, before joining her in traveling to the smithy.
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"So, as far as we are aware, it isn't a matter of cheating, or, it's complicated. If the wife is to be believed, he was charmed with magic, which led to this whole situation. Which we're trying to confirm." She explains on the way over, stopping at the door a moment. "And, maybe to help them realize that it doesn't mean that they care less about each other because of it, but that might be a challenge."
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Early bird gets the worm, that's what they say, right?
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Too bad Slixvah isn't an early bird. Nor a worm. What day is it? Why was she up? Oh. Right. That damn wandering musical ensemble decided rehearsal should be at two hours before dawn.
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So a bird woman wanders the streets, yawning wide and loud as ribbons dangle behind her limply. An extension of her lethargic self. She plods along with Eztli, nodding idly. "Aight, aight, I see..." she murmbles, reaching behind herself to pull at a wing. "... dang kids... that ball had to be made of metal..."
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She squints on the approach. ".. that Robbie? Naw... that the guy?"
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Nemori falls into step beside the pair. It's not that she's stealthy. Rather that she's become familiar enough with /this/ neighbourhood, at least, that she knows the shortest and most obscure routes... and she tends to avoid wanting to bump into random people when she goes to work in the morning.
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So she's walking with the egalrin and makari combo before she greets them. "If he did, in fact, cheat, perhaps she will pay us to strip him and geld him and dump him outside the city."
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The Tsuran of suspect virtue squints and steps away from the smithy wall when he hears the group approach, shying back and looking ready to be off when he finds the duo seems to've become a trio. He shrinks further when he catches at least a part of what the mul'niessa is proposing.
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One hand drops low but whether he's protecting himself or attending to his ailment is a mystery in the shaded half-light and fog. Thankfully.
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There's an audible breath to steady himself and he searches through the group to make sure at least two of the faces are familiar. He seems just as loathe to maintain eyecontact today as he had the previous evening.
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"... I need to be quick. I'm not supposed to be away... Now." Ananias scans the cobbles running up and down the street. "You-- you said you could help..."
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"And if he did not,then there is no reason to do that." The small makari huffs when she turns around a moment to see the mul'niessa, quietly enough to not be overheard. "And I think you would be depriving his wife of the pleasure anyways. Good morning Nemori, good to see you."
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"So, alright then. I believe Nemori can help you here. We're her friends, and we're just here to talk afterwards." Eztli pipes up. "Best to talk inside and away from the main street though, yes?"
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Slix squawks slightly in surprise from the sudden mul, a sound she doesn't do too often. She shakes her head to ward it off, then raises a brow. "I mean... I'm all for roughing someone up but... open skies, Momo... chill."
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She pats her crown feathers down. "Also, mornin'."
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Her attention shifts to the Tsuran man, her bobbing her head once but not adding anything as a hand gestures towards the smithy proper.
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Nemori's lip curls into the very, very beginnings of a sneer.. but she catches herself, turning it into a frown instead. And she nods to accept Eztli's and Slixvah's admonishments. Her gaze isn't entirely friendly, either, when she sets it upon the errant tsuran, but again, through effort of will, she eases back on her expression and nods to the man. "I said I could help. Whether I do or not is up to you. You will tell us everything, and then I will... relieve you of your affliction. But come, as Eztli suggests, let us step inside." And then, belatedly, she offers back to Slixvah.. and to the others. "And good morning."
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GAME: Nemori refreshes spells.
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GAME: Nemori casts Zone of Truth. Caster Level: 5 DC: 15
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If contrition had an avatar it would be this Tsuran. He stands mutely by and waits for Nemori to open the low gate and lead the way inside into the tidy smithy all packed away after Robert finished the night before. Under the slanted roof he looks around, inspecting this unfamiliar place as best he can given his distraction and the unfamiliar circumstance.
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"I--" he chews his lip, finding a crate and the canvas draped over it incredibly interesting. "Why? Annie already said." He shifts. "The witch." He stops wringing his hands and crosses them atop his ample belly. "... I didn't mean to."
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GAME: Jinks rolls 1d20+1: (13)+1: 14
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Eztli followed the others inside, and took a step back off to one side to watch the man and the others with her. "Yes, she told us about the witch, and you have said you did not mean to. But please, we need more information." Eztli asks. "We know nothing of the witch, or what lead to the enchantment. And the more we know, the better we can try to help you."
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Slixvah follows in after the others, her steps languid and slow. So much so the ribbons don't even flutter behind her. She clacks her beak, palms rubbing the sides of her face as she comes to a stop in the smithy itself.
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Her eyes start to droop, and she leans against one of the support beams. "Snitch which witch which put in this stich for this sitch'," she parrots, yawning some before shifting her weight to lean against Eztli sleepily.
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Nemori holds up a finger, signalling a pause to the others as they start asking questions, and fixes Ananias with a look as she pulls her Ceinara token from her pocket. Sildanyari words flow forth as she recites a minor ritual.. and as the spell complete, the smithy is filled with an invisible ward against untruth. She maintains the locked gaze with the man as she puts her token away. "Be truthful, and be complete. Think of it like a confession, Ananias. The more you tell us, the more weight will be lifted from your shoulders. We are strangers, and you have little reason to care what we think." Never mind her earlier threats about castration. "You have only to gain by being as honest AND forthcoming as you possibly can. Relief from your affliction. The first step towards reconciliation with your wife."
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GAME: Nemori rolls diplomacy: (12)+8: 20
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Ananias' reaction runs a gamut; familiarity and relief when the shadow elf reveals the Muse's emblem, nervousness when the ritual is cast, and apprehension as the concept of confessional.
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"I--" he begins, blinking and wiping his face. He really isn't comfortable and that combines with the warm moisture in the air to make his face bead with sweat. "I diiii...--" the word sticks in his mouth. His eyes go wide and he frowns. "I diiiiii--" he tries a little harder this time before he stops, stymied.
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A mild panic makes the fat Tsuran jumpy and he forgets himself, scratching openly in the heat of the moment.
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"I love my wife," blurts the refugee, finally. "I can't lose my Annie; I don't know what I'd do..." He's blinking tears. "The witch's name... the witch's name is Umayma."
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Eztli was leaning against the wall, and then Slixvah was leaning against her. The small makari had to stand a bit straighter in order to support the weight.
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Nemori was casting her magics, and as far as she was aware, curing the mentioned affliction. What she was not expecting was a truth spell to be cast, at all.
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They blink once, and huff. "Nemori, I appreciate your forethought and what you are doing, but I would also appreciate it if you told us what you are doing first. And, I feel this is a difficult time for you. You have the witches name, can you tell us what led to your situation? Why did she cast enchantment magic on you?"
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The ritual lands, and sleepy Slix is too sleepy to slough it off. Her eyes dart down for a brief moment before she comments, "Do I need ta tie oven mitts to your hands? Momma used ta put corks on our fingies to keep us from scratching the down off. Anyways, was that so hard, sugar?"
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She shakes her head, standing more upright as she gives little Eztli a pat on the head for the support. "Thanks cutie."
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Another yawn. "Ye, like Ez said, Umayma did like a... thing? Aside from magic bosoms, what'd they do?"
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Nemori just looks at Eztli, unrepentant. "'The truth shall set you free'," she says, with the air of quoting some historical figure. "One can always step outside if they wish to lie..." she adds, then turns to look back at Ananias. "But I suggest you wish us to be as sure of your honesty as possible. Now. After you answer my friends, after you tell us what happened, you can tell us if you truly did not mean to?" Mean to what? That has yet to be determined.
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"She maaaa--..." Grimace. "She muh... Mm--" Ananias drags his hand down his face roughly, glancing at Nemori and then looking away. Half-turning and fretting at his scarf as he resumes chewing his lip.
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"Annie..." He stops and sighs heavily. "We haven't... been 'together.' Her mother left us in Bernfleur and now the risen come." He issues a stifled sob and continues to face away. "I-- I just went for a walk. I didn't have... there wasn't a plan."
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The fat man shifts, adjusting his stance and indulging in a pregnant pause.
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"Everyone knows she's a witch. She lives apart-- even now she lives apart... but people go to her. She has a wagon." He sighs, weakly. "She has magics."
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GAME: Slixvah rolls sense motive+2: (10)+3+2: 15
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GAME: Jinks rolls 1d20+6: (1)+6: 7 (EPIC FAIL)
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GAME: Eztli rolls sense motive: (16)+1: 17
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GAME: Nemori rolls sense motive: (11)+3: 14
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"You're welcome, Slixvah." Eztli nods, before she looks to Nemori and sighs. "I understand, but I would have been prepared for it Nemori, and if I didn't realise you actually cast that spell, I would almost definitely say something I would end up regretting about you or something else. And now I'm going to shut up about why using that spell suddenly on someone is a bad idea."
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The small makari squints, and sighs. "You're avoiding what you're saying, and for what reason I don't know yet. Can you please explain why you aren't telling us about meeting her? I really hope there wasn't ulterior motives to begin with."
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Slixvah rubs her at her face once more, but this time in annoyance rather than trying to rouse her sleepy self awake. "Okay. Listen. It's obvious this witch clearly had a 'wagon' that you payed attention to."
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She smooths her crown feathers back, more awake now as she seems... frustrated? That's a new expression to cross her visage. "Wanna know somethin' really funny, boy? It's shit like this that you're spoutin' that kept me from gettin' inta Rune's academies."
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She points a finger at herself. "I'M a witch, bitch. Watch your lying mouth before I sew it shut. The faster you answer true the faster your prick gets fixed."
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Her feathers are floofing up, making it seem like she's bigger than she really is.
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Nemori doesn't seem convinced by Eztli's reasoning, but she respects the makari's wish to drop it for now and returns her attention to the interrogation. When the refugee starts... hedging? Distracting? she opens her mouth, but then Slixvah delivers her words in a much more satisfying manner. The mouth closes, one arm crosses over her abdomen, and then other props up her hand as she gestures with it in a casting manner, to remind the man the deal that's been offered.
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GAME: Slixvah rolls intimidate: (14)+2: 16
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Ananias' eyes go wide when Slixvah bristles, turning to look at her even as he takes a step back. His heel catches on the anvil-hosting stump and trips, falling hard onto his backside. Even as the fat, aging Tsuran winces and writhes, he's lifting a hand to his sternum and curling his fingers into a warding gesture. Reflex.
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"No-- no, no, no. Agh." His stammering halts as he rocks to one cheek and draws up his knee. "She doesn't have anyone," he explains piteously. "No one is going to think any less of her!"
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Frantic eyes dart between Eztli and Nemori now. "I-- I made a mistake. A girl behind the theatre... she reminded me of my Annie when--" he blinks and pushes tears away with the heel of his palm. "From before; when we were younger. But..." he glances down at his afflicted groin.
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"People saw me go to her..." he's blubbering now, pathetic. "I wanted a cure but she asked too much. They told Annie," he cups his face into his hands. "She thought-- and I thought... I need her. I need her so much... maybe she'll forgive me if she thought I couldn't help it..."
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He's weeping.
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Eztli was quiet against the wall as she was listening, and quieter still at the outburst from the egalrin. When the man spoke up finally, and the small makari was able to piece together things, she snorts.
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"So you couldn't keep it in your pants and you're smearing the name of a witch for it. Unless you actually spoke to your wife before that about it, it's as good as cheating I would say."
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"Proper communication is the key to any relationship, and you didn't stop to consider that? You're willing to lie to your wife instead of admitting the truth?"
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Slixvah crosses her arms upon seeing the gesture. "Such wardings only go so far as to bespell back luck. Though, that only works on luck being twisted by a witch. Not if you're unlucky yourself."
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Her beak grinds as the explanation goes on. Her putting the pieces together through the blabbering and crying. "... easier to beg for forgiveness than to ask for permission, huh? You just don't wanna deal with the consequences of your actions."
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She all but disregards the man now, her turning to Nemori. "Up to you, honey if you wanna make good on fixin' 'im. As much as I want him to live wit' the consequences, I think the affliction should be removed for the sake of others if he decides to-"
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Turns to him and cups her hands around her beak. "-Fuck around and find out again."
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Nemori's expression.. doesn't shift so much as lock. With the truth laid bare, with discovering her initial suspicions of the man's character were closer to the mark than she'd later been led to believe... she's forced to consider what's important to her here. She care little about Teeanie.. the woman was rude, abrasive, and altogether unappealing to talk to. She certainly doesn't feel sorry for the woman. So she just nods with Eztli's words, giving an impression, at least, of agreeing with the makari. And when Slixvah yields the floor to her, so to speak...
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Her knife is silent when Nemori draws it and steps before the fallen man, kneeling. "The curse in your loins is the least of what should be done to you," she spits. "Betrayal is a trait of the weak. The pathetic. And you are proving to be both." She points the knife at Anadias. "Did you know in my home city, we lack for proper protein? For meat? At least, the commoners do. But we nobles.. we occasionally feasted up on Rothe. Do you know what Rothe is?" She pauses, leaning closer. Perhaps if the truth spell hadn't been cast, she wouldn't be so quick with these words. "Rothe was usually a slave who had outlived its usefullness. Or sometimes just one who had displeased us. But occasionally... occasionally... it was a noble who betrayed the wrong person." She smiles then, but it's not friendly. And it shows alot of teeth. "We knew how to deal with betrayal."
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The shadow elf pauses, then stabs the knife in the ground. Then she holds her token forth again, and calls upon the muse for a pair of spells. One to diagnose and confirm the nature of Ananias's affliction, and then another to cure it. "Our 'witch' is correct. Others need not pay for your mistakes. As for you... I care little for what you do now. But if you had any strength at all, you would go to your wife and tell her everything. Perhaps she will see the man she married when you do... perhaps she will love you enough to get past the hurt." She turns her head to the side, and spits again before drawing back. "But I do not think you have the strength."
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There's a high-pitched gasp when the knife comes down and the Tsuran jumps back, knocking his knee into the stump that'd foiled his heel moments ago. Nemori's story has him bug-eyed and panting, sweat dripping in copious amounts from his rounded, multi-layered chin.
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The relief brought on by the spell actually conjures a sigh from the man and his brows push together in confusion. He looks from Nemori to Slixvah to Eztli, then side-eyes the mul'niessa again. There's another good, pregnant pause as he waits for the other shoe to drop. When it doesn't he scrabbles up to his feet.
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Ananias opens his mouth to say something and stops, thinking better of it. He bumbles through the forge and scamps off into the foggy darkness of the breaking dawn.
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Without so much as a 'thank you.'
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"That's messed up, Nemori." Eztli states bluntly, partly from the spell, but she made no attempt to hide her disgust at the thought either.
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And then the the man was healed, and just as quickly he was gone. "Well, at least he's healed. Even if he's an idiot." Eztli sighs. "Hopefully he's actually going to talk to his wife about it, and maybe some day he can gain her forgiveness, even if I don't think he entirely deserves it. I'll probably go over in a few days to make sure he's not still lying to her, in fact."
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Slixvah doesn't make a move as Nemori lays it into the guy. Both scaring the piss out of him as well as fixing the latent issue. "I agree with Ez," she opines, but doesn't seem to dwell on that tidbit of culture too much. "See you never, asshole," she calls out to him before sighing heavily.
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"I highly doubt it," she mentions to Eztli. "I really don't think he's going to talk to her. What ev's."
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Now to Nemori. "... thanks for fixin' him. Stops a problem before it gets worse. It's too early to deal with pricks."
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Nemori rises back to her feet and puts her knife away before closing her eyes and taking a few moments to just breathe. When her eyes open, the man is long gone of course, but she's mostly dismissed him from mind as she looks at the makari and egalrin. "I never said I ate Rothe," she points out. Of course, she isn't saying she didn't, either. "I do not know if this is what Kezia had in mind for finishing her favour.. but such is. I care little about either of those humans... but if you wish my presence I will come. Though, perhaps, for your sake Slixvah.." Nemori didn't miss the expressed emotion about witches getting blamed for more than they deserved.. "Perhaps we should clear up this Umayama's name."
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"I really hope you haven't actually, and you're not avoiding saying directly if you did or not. That's not-" Eztli sighs, running a hand down her face, opening the door, and stepping out until she was sure she was no longer in range of the magic. "You're welcome to join me if I pay them a visit Nemori, as it's clear I have a way of putting my foot in my mouth. And I agree, I wouldn't want the with's name to be smeared further. It's not their fault after all."
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Slixvah turns to lean against the wall, her looking out to the foggy morning. "Never said ya did," she hums. "I'll tag too if ya want me. Though I'll prolly change my face."
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A pause runs through her. A blue eye peers over her shoulder towards the mul'neissa as her plumage relaxes. "... I'd... like that, actually. Thanks," she coos, back to her usual self.
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She straightens up, looking about the space before she tests- "The grass is bl... bl..." Her eyes crinkle. She cracks her knuckles.
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Oh no.
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Inhale. "Eztli is a big fucking cutie, Nemori kinda scares me but makes cool stuff and constantly surprises me, and I'm the sexiest bird alive!" she blathers out. She giggles, hops out along with Eztli, and swivels back. "Break! Fast!"
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GAME: Nemori rolls sense motive: (13)+7: 20
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Nemori waits inside the smithy as her two friends depart, and even allows herself a small smile. And.. just for a moment.. maybe if one was watching her closely.. the smile even reaches her eyes. Just briefly. Blink and you missed it. Then it fades. She casts a glance at the forge; with the mystery of Ananias solved, it's clear where her mind had been going. But then she closes her eyes, takes another breath... and turns her back on the tools to step out of the smithy and close the gate behind her. "Thank you both, for this," she tells them, without specificying what, exactly, 'this' is. "Perhaps this evening, if Eztli still wishes, she can share her wine with us and make a night of it."
   
 
-End Scene-
 
-End Scene-

Latest revision as of 13:45, 15 July 2022

Log Info

  • Title: Lasabeth's Lice pt2
  • Emitter: Jinks
  • Characters: Eztli, Nemori, Slixvah
  • Place: Lower Trades
  • Time: July 14th, 2022


-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=    The Players    =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Nemori       3m      4'10"    110 Lb     Mul'niessa        Female    
    A tall and slender, dark skinned elf.                                      
Slixvah      0s      5'8"     130 Lb     Eaglefolk         Female    
    A rust red and white Egalrin covered in veils, ribbons, and shawls.
Eztli        7m      4'6"     140 Lb     Sith-Makar        Female    
    A two-toned, short sith-makar.          

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  As the GM  =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Jinks        4m      3'4"     39 Lb      Gnome             Male      
    A gnomish fellow in fancy garb and jewelry.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=

Eztli and Nemori had left Ananias stirring supper and wallowing in his misery, the pair teetering between annoyance, disgust, and perhaps a modicum of pity for the philanderer. The once-again font for otherworldly power had told him where to find her the next day, offering a cure for his problem in exchange for information.

He'd been less than concrete in his commitment so it might be surprising to find the portly Tsuran leaning against the low wall and tall beam of the smithy's. The nervous man fidgets and shifts and scratches at a pudgy cheek half-hidden under a scarlet wrap that's equal parts cowl and scarf. A simple beige tunic and brown breeches are accented by yellow, orange, and red belts and his dagger has a jeweled pommel and knuckle guard.

For as small as he's trying to make himself-- pressed against a support beam as he is-- he's done a poor job of dressing down for the occassion.

It's fortunate for him that the sun hasn't risen, yet, and a thick fog muddles the details of the dark, pre-dawn world. Scattered noises from every direction signal the coming-to-life of various workshops and tradehouses.

Eztli had taken off the day before when things didn't seem to be going anywhere, and potentially worse, to clear her mind and see if the man would show up the next day. She certainly wasn't expecting the aid rendered to be a multi day task, but she did offer in the first place.

And perhaps having some more aid from Slixvah would help, so the small makari sought out the egalrin when she was able to, before joining her in traveling to the smithy.

"So, as far as we are aware, it isn't a matter of cheating, or, it's complicated. If the wife is to be believed, he was charmed with magic, which led to this whole situation. Which we're trying to confirm." She explains on the way over, stopping at the door a moment. "And, maybe to help them realize that it doesn't mean that they care less about each other because of it, but that might be a challenge."

Early bird gets the worm, that's what they say, right?

Too bad Slixvah isn't an early bird. Nor a worm. What day is it? Why was she up? Oh. Right. That damn wandering musical ensemble decided rehearsal should be at two hours before dawn.

So a bird woman wanders the streets, yawning wide and loud as ribbons dangle behind her limply. An extension of her lethargic self. She plods along with Eztli, nodding idly. "Aight, aight, I see..." she murmbles, reaching behind herself to pull at a wing. "... dang kids... that ball had to be made of metal..."

She squints on the approach. ".. that Robbie? Naw... that the guy?"

Nemori falls into step beside the pair. It's not that she's stealthy. Rather that she's become familiar enough with /this/ neighbourhood, at least, that she knows the shortest and most obscure routes... and she tends to avoid wanting to bump into random people when she goes to work in the morning.

So she's walking with the egalrin and makari combo before she greets them. "If he did, in fact, cheat, perhaps she will pay us to strip him and geld him and dump him outside the city."

The Tsuran of suspect virtue squints and steps away from the smithy wall when he hears the group approach, shying back and looking ready to be off when he finds the duo seems to've become a trio. He shrinks further when he catches at least a part of what the mul'niessa is proposing.

One hand drops low but whether he's protecting himself or attending to his ailment is a mystery in the shaded half-light and fog. Thankfully.

There's an audible breath to steady himself and he searches through the group to make sure at least two of the faces are familiar. He seems just as loathe to maintain eyecontact today as he had the previous evening.

"... I need to be quick. I'm not supposed to be away... Now." Ananias scans the cobbles running up and down the street. "You-- you said you could help..."

"And if he did not,then there is no reason to do that." The small makari huffs when she turns around a moment to see the mul'niessa, quietly enough to not be overheard. "And I think you would be depriving his wife of the pleasure anyways. Good morning Nemori, good to see you."

"So, alright then. I believe Nemori can help you here. We're her friends, and we're just here to talk afterwards." Eztli pipes up. "Best to talk inside and away from the main street though, yes?"

Slix squawks slightly in surprise from the sudden mul, a sound she doesn't do too often. She shakes her head to ward it off, then raises a brow. "I mean... I'm all for roughing someone up but... open skies, Momo... chill."

She pats her crown feathers down. "Also, mornin'."

Her attention shifts to the Tsuran man, her bobbing her head once but not adding anything as a hand gestures towards the smithy proper.

Nemori's lip curls into the very, very beginnings of a sneer.. but she catches herself, turning it into a frown instead. And she nods to accept Eztli's and Slixvah's admonishments. Her gaze isn't entirely friendly, either, when she sets it upon the errant tsuran, but again, through effort of will, she eases back on her expression and nods to the man. "I said I could help. Whether I do or not is up to you. You will tell us everything, and then I will... relieve you of your affliction. But come, as Eztli suggests, let us step inside." And then, belatedly, she offers back to Slixvah.. and to the others. "And good morning."

GAME: Nemori refreshes spells.
GAME: Nemori casts Zone of Truth. Caster Level: 5 DC: 15

If contrition had an avatar it would be this Tsuran. He stands mutely by and waits for Nemori to open the low gate and lead the way inside into the tidy smithy all packed away after Robert finished the night before. Under the slanted roof he looks around, inspecting this unfamiliar place as best he can given his distraction and the unfamiliar circumstance.

"I--" he chews his lip, finding a crate and the canvas draped over it incredibly interesting. "Why? Annie already said." He shifts. "The witch." He stops wringing his hands and crosses them atop his ample belly. "... I didn't mean to."

GAME: Jinks rolls 1d20+1: (13)+1: 14

Eztli followed the others inside, and took a step back off to one side to watch the man and the others with her. "Yes, she told us about the witch, and you have said you did not mean to. But please, we need more information." Eztli asks. "We know nothing of the witch, or what lead to the enchantment. And the more we know, the better we can try to help you."

Slixvah follows in after the others, her steps languid and slow. So much so the ribbons don't even flutter behind her. She clacks her beak, palms rubbing the sides of her face as she comes to a stop in the smithy itself.

Her eyes start to droop, and she leans against one of the support beams. "Snitch which witch which put in this stich for this sitch'," she parrots, yawning some before shifting her weight to lean against Eztli sleepily.

Nemori holds up a finger, signalling a pause to the others as they start asking questions, and fixes Ananias with a look as she pulls her Ceinara token from her pocket. Sildanyari words flow forth as she recites a minor ritual.. and as the spell complete, the smithy is filled with an invisible ward against untruth. She maintains the locked gaze with the man as she puts her token away. "Be truthful, and be complete. Think of it like a confession, Ananias. The more you tell us, the more weight will be lifted from your shoulders. We are strangers, and you have little reason to care what we think." Never mind her earlier threats about castration. "You have only to gain by being as honest AND forthcoming as you possibly can. Relief from your affliction. The first step towards reconciliation with your wife."

GAME: Nemori rolls diplomacy: (12)+8: 20

Ananias' reaction runs a gamut; familiarity and relief when the shadow elf reveals the Muse's emblem, nervousness when the ritual is cast, and apprehension as the concept of confessional.

"I--" he begins, blinking and wiping his face. He really isn't comfortable and that combines with the warm moisture in the air to make his face bead with sweat. "I diiii...--" the word sticks in his mouth. His eyes go wide and he frowns. "I diiiiii--" he tries a little harder this time before he stops, stymied.

A mild panic makes the fat Tsuran jumpy and he forgets himself, scratching openly in the heat of the moment.

"I love my wife," blurts the refugee, finally. "I can't lose my Annie; I don't know what I'd do..." He's blinking tears. "The witch's name... the witch's name is Umayma."

Eztli was leaning against the wall, and then Slixvah was leaning against her. The small makari had to stand a bit straighter in order to support the weight.

Nemori was casting her magics, and as far as she was aware, curing the mentioned affliction. What she was not expecting was a truth spell to be cast, at all.

They blink once, and huff. "Nemori, I appreciate your forethought and what you are doing, but I would also appreciate it if you told us what you are doing first. And, I feel this is a difficult time for you. You have the witches name, can you tell us what led to your situation? Why did she cast enchantment magic on you?"

The ritual lands, and sleepy Slix is too sleepy to slough it off. Her eyes dart down for a brief moment before she comments, "Do I need ta tie oven mitts to your hands? Momma used ta put corks on our fingies to keep us from scratching the down off. Anyways, was that so hard, sugar?"

She shakes her head, standing more upright as she gives little Eztli a pat on the head for the support. "Thanks cutie."

Another yawn. "Ye, like Ez said, Umayma did like a... thing? Aside from magic bosoms, what'd they do?"

Nemori just looks at Eztli, unrepentant. "'The truth shall set you free'," she says, with the air of quoting some historical figure. "One can always step outside if they wish to lie..." she adds, then turns to look back at Ananias. "But I suggest you wish us to be as sure of your honesty as possible. Now. After you answer my friends, after you tell us what happened, you can tell us if you truly did not mean to?" Mean to what? That has yet to be determined.

"She maaaa--..." Grimace. "She muh... Mm--" Ananias drags his hand down his face roughly, glancing at Nemori and then looking away. Half-turning and fretting at his scarf as he resumes chewing his lip.

"Annie..." He stops and sighs heavily. "We haven't... been 'together.' Her mother left us in Bernfleur and now the risen come." He issues a stifled sob and continues to face away. "I-- I just went for a walk. I didn't have... there wasn't a plan."

The fat man shifts, adjusting his stance and indulging in a pregnant pause.

"Everyone knows she's a witch. She lives apart-- even now she lives apart... but people go to her. She has a wagon." He sighs, weakly. "She has magics."

GAME: Slixvah rolls sense motive+2: (10)+3+2: 15
GAME: Jinks rolls 1d20+6: (1)+6: 7 (EPIC FAIL)
GAME: Eztli rolls sense motive: (16)+1: 17
GAME: Nemori rolls sense motive: (11)+3: 14

"You're welcome, Slixvah." Eztli nods, before she looks to Nemori and sighs. "I understand, but I would have been prepared for it Nemori, and if I didn't realise you actually cast that spell, I would almost definitely say something I would end up regretting about you or something else. And now I'm going to shut up about why using that spell suddenly on someone is a bad idea."

The small makari squints, and sighs. "You're avoiding what you're saying, and for what reason I don't know yet. Can you please explain why you aren't telling us about meeting her? I really hope there wasn't ulterior motives to begin with."

Slixvah rubs her at her face once more, but this time in annoyance rather than trying to rouse her sleepy self awake. "Okay. Listen. It's obvious this witch clearly had a 'wagon' that you payed attention to."

She smooths her crown feathers back, more awake now as she seems... frustrated? That's a new expression to cross her visage. "Wanna know somethin' really funny, boy? It's shit like this that you're spoutin' that kept me from gettin' inta Rune's academies."

She points a finger at herself. "I'M a witch, bitch. Watch your lying mouth before I sew it shut. The faster you answer true the faster your prick gets fixed."

Her feathers are floofing up, making it seem like she's bigger than she really is.

Nemori doesn't seem convinced by Eztli's reasoning, but she respects the makari's wish to drop it for now and returns her attention to the interrogation. When the refugee starts... hedging? Distracting? she opens her mouth, but then Slixvah delivers her words in a much more satisfying manner. The mouth closes, one arm crosses over her abdomen, and then other props up her hand as she gestures with it in a casting manner, to remind the man the deal that's been offered.

GAME: Slixvah rolls intimidate: (14)+2: 16

Ananias' eyes go wide when Slixvah bristles, turning to look at her even as he takes a step back. His heel catches on the anvil-hosting stump and trips, falling hard onto his backside. Even as the fat, aging Tsuran winces and writhes, he's lifting a hand to his sternum and curling his fingers into a warding gesture. Reflex.

"No-- no, no, no. Agh." His stammering halts as he rocks to one cheek and draws up his knee. "She doesn't have anyone," he explains piteously. "No one is going to think any less of her!"

Frantic eyes dart between Eztli and Nemori now. "I-- I made a mistake. A girl behind the theatre... she reminded me of my Annie when--" he blinks and pushes tears away with the heel of his palm. "From before; when we were younger. But..." he glances down at his afflicted groin.

"People saw me go to her..." he's blubbering now, pathetic. "I wanted a cure but she asked too much. They told Annie," he cups his face into his hands. "She thought-- and I thought... I need her. I need her so much... maybe she'll forgive me if she thought I couldn't help it..."

He's weeping.

Eztli was quiet against the wall as she was listening, and quieter still at the outburst from the egalrin. When the man spoke up finally, and the small makari was able to piece together things, she snorts.

"So you couldn't keep it in your pants and you're smearing the name of a witch for it. Unless you actually spoke to your wife before that about it, it's as good as cheating I would say."

"Proper communication is the key to any relationship, and you didn't stop to consider that? You're willing to lie to your wife instead of admitting the truth?"

Slixvah crosses her arms upon seeing the gesture. "Such wardings only go so far as to bespell back luck. Though, that only works on luck being twisted by a witch. Not if you're unlucky yourself."

Her beak grinds as the explanation goes on. Her putting the pieces together through the blabbering and crying. "... easier to beg for forgiveness than to ask for permission, huh? You just don't wanna deal with the consequences of your actions."

She all but disregards the man now, her turning to Nemori. "Up to you, honey if you wanna make good on fixin' 'im. As much as I want him to live wit' the consequences, I think the affliction should be removed for the sake of others if he decides to-"

Turns to him and cups her hands around her beak. "-Fuck around and find out again."

Nemori's expression.. doesn't shift so much as lock. With the truth laid bare, with discovering her initial suspicions of the man's character were closer to the mark than she'd later been led to believe... she's forced to consider what's important to her here. She care little about Teeanie.. the woman was rude, abrasive, and altogether unappealing to talk to. She certainly doesn't feel sorry for the woman. So she just nods with Eztli's words, giving an impression, at least, of agreeing with the makari. And when Slixvah yields the floor to her, so to speak...

Her knife is silent when Nemori draws it and steps before the fallen man, kneeling. "The curse in your loins is the least of what should be done to you," she spits. "Betrayal is a trait of the weak. The pathetic. And you are proving to be both." She points the knife at Anadias. "Did you know in my home city, we lack for proper protein? For meat? At least, the commoners do. But we nobles.. we occasionally feasted up on Rothe. Do you know what Rothe is?" She pauses, leaning closer. Perhaps if the truth spell hadn't been cast, she wouldn't be so quick with these words. "Rothe was usually a slave who had outlived its usefullness. Or sometimes just one who had displeased us. But occasionally... occasionally... it was a noble who betrayed the wrong person." She smiles then, but it's not friendly. And it shows alot of teeth. "We knew how to deal with betrayal."

The shadow elf pauses, then stabs the knife in the ground. Then she holds her token forth again, and calls upon the muse for a pair of spells. One to diagnose and confirm the nature of Ananias's affliction, and then another to cure it. "Our 'witch' is correct. Others need not pay for your mistakes. As for you... I care little for what you do now. But if you had any strength at all, you would go to your wife and tell her everything. Perhaps she will see the man she married when you do... perhaps she will love you enough to get past the hurt." She turns her head to the side, and spits again before drawing back. "But I do not think you have the strength."

There's a high-pitched gasp when the knife comes down and the Tsuran jumps back, knocking his knee into the stump that'd foiled his heel moments ago. Nemori's story has him bug-eyed and panting, sweat dripping in copious amounts from his rounded, multi-layered chin.

The relief brought on by the spell actually conjures a sigh from the man and his brows push together in confusion. He looks from Nemori to Slixvah to Eztli, then side-eyes the mul'niessa again. There's another good, pregnant pause as he waits for the other shoe to drop. When it doesn't he scrabbles up to his feet.

Ananias opens his mouth to say something and stops, thinking better of it. He bumbles through the forge and scamps off into the foggy darkness of the breaking dawn.

Without so much as a 'thank you.'

"That's messed up, Nemori." Eztli states bluntly, partly from the spell, but she made no attempt to hide her disgust at the thought either.

And then the the man was healed, and just as quickly he was gone. "Well, at least he's healed. Even if he's an idiot." Eztli sighs. "Hopefully he's actually going to talk to his wife about it, and maybe some day he can gain her forgiveness, even if I don't think he entirely deserves it. I'll probably go over in a few days to make sure he's not still lying to her, in fact."

Slixvah doesn't make a move as Nemori lays it into the guy. Both scaring the piss out of him as well as fixing the latent issue. "I agree with Ez," she opines, but doesn't seem to dwell on that tidbit of culture too much. "See you never, asshole," she calls out to him before sighing heavily.

"I highly doubt it," she mentions to Eztli. "I really don't think he's going to talk to her. What ev's."

Now to Nemori. "... thanks for fixin' him. Stops a problem before it gets worse. It's too early to deal with pricks."

Nemori rises back to her feet and puts her knife away before closing her eyes and taking a few moments to just breathe. When her eyes open, the man is long gone of course, but she's mostly dismissed him from mind as she looks at the makari and egalrin. "I never said I ate Rothe," she points out. Of course, she isn't saying she didn't, either. "I do not know if this is what Kezia had in mind for finishing her favour.. but such is. I care little about either of those humans... but if you wish my presence I will come. Though, perhaps, for your sake Slixvah.." Nemori didn't miss the expressed emotion about witches getting blamed for more than they deserved.. "Perhaps we should clear up this Umayama's name."

"I really hope you haven't actually, and you're not avoiding saying directly if you did or not. That's not-" Eztli sighs, running a hand down her face, opening the door, and stepping out until she was sure she was no longer in range of the magic. "You're welcome to join me if I pay them a visit Nemori, as it's clear I have a way of putting my foot in my mouth. And I agree, I wouldn't want the with's name to be smeared further. It's not their fault after all."

Slixvah turns to lean against the wall, her looking out to the foggy morning. "Never said ya did," she hums. "I'll tag too if ya want me. Though I'll prolly change my face."

A pause runs through her. A blue eye peers over her shoulder towards the mul'neissa as her plumage relaxes. "... I'd... like that, actually. Thanks," she coos, back to her usual self.

She straightens up, looking about the space before she tests- "The grass is bl... bl..." Her eyes crinkle. She cracks her knuckles.

Oh no.

Inhale. "Eztli is a big fucking cutie, Nemori kinda scares me but makes cool stuff and constantly surprises me, and I'm the sexiest bird alive!" she blathers out. She giggles, hops out along with Eztli, and swivels back. "Break! Fast!"

GAME: Nemori rolls sense motive: (13)+7: 20

Nemori waits inside the smithy as her two friends depart, and even allows herself a small smile. And.. just for a moment.. maybe if one was watching her closely.. the smile even reaches her eyes. Just briefly. Blink and you missed it. Then it fades. She casts a glance at the forge; with the mystery of Ananias solved, it's clear where her mind had been going. But then she closes her eyes, takes another breath... and turns her back on the tools to step out of the smithy and close the gate behind her. "Thank you both, for this," she tells them, without specificying what, exactly, 'this' is. "Perhaps this evening, if Eztli still wishes, she can share her wine with us and make a night of it."

-End Scene-