Schlocky Terror Magic Show
Log Info
- Title: Schlocky Terror Magic Show
- Emitter: Cryosanthia
- Characters: Acedia, Cryosanthia, Aya, Seldan, Braelnoir, Ezil, Nels, Zant, Merek, Elleandra, Edinaz
- Place: A07: Fernwood Pub
- Time: Sunday, March 08, 2020, 5:53 PM
- Summary: It's open stage night at the Fernwood Pub, and Acedia delivers an excellent musical performance. Cryosanthia is feeling under the weather, from her previous evening's adventure, but she decides to go up as well. She delivers a magically enhanced retelling of her party's expedition into Merkabah. A rescue mission, where they faced face hugging mechanical Neck-Scorpions. She describes their main battle, which involved some tactical mistates, as well as the careful infiltration afterwards to rescue their party members who fell and had to be abandonned. The tale is well received, and Cryo relaxes, discussing things with friends. Elleandra arrives near the end of the telling, joins the group, and reveals she has letter which needs to get to Veyshan. Merek, once his attention is gained, agrees to deliver the letter. Edinaz arrives and teases Braelnoir for her current transformation. Kaelyn's absence is discussed and people disperse for bed.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-<* A07: Fernwood Pub *>--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
The common room of the Fernwood Pub dominates the inn, spacious and airy because of the high, vaulted ceiling. Ornately carved beams of dark, polished wood form a lattice overhead, supporting the arched roof two storeys above the floor. To the right of the double-door entry is a spiral staircase, winding upwards to a balcony that rings and overlooks the main area. Large windows at this level grant an excellent view of the river to the west and colorful market stalls to the north and east. An air of coziness is salvaged by keeping the pub dimly lit; parchment-shrouded mana lanterns hang at intervals from the base of the balcony, nestled amongst lush, magically propagated ivy and ferns that grow over this false demi-ceiling and the struts that support it.
The bar is sleek and simple, comprised of meticulously polished black lacquer. Tables are set under the darker niches formed by the balcony floor as well as on the balcony itself. A few are deliberately sized to accommodate halflings and gnomes, but the majority are meant for human-sized individuals. A large common table is on the main floor, set before a semi-circular stage situated against the western wall. Beside it, with pipes mounted upon the wall and running up past the balcony and almost to the ceiling, is a refurbished pipe organ made to look like the one lost when the Fernwood was destroyed during the Merkabah Siege.
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-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Appearing, in Order =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Acedia 3'4" 39 Lb Goblin Female An ebon-skinned Goblin in leather armor. Cryosanthia 6'7" 245 Lb Sith-Makar Female A dashingly tall, lithe white lizardgirl with tattoos. Aya 4'7" 105 Lb Shadow Elf Female Mul'niessa. Braided hair. Simple clothing. Seldan 5'11" 187 Lb Human Male Red-blonde Eldanar man wearing Eluna's colors and symbol. Braelnoir 5'11" 146 Lb Human Female A rough and tumble brunette wielding a scythe and a feral grin. Ezil 5'11" 175 Lb Human Male An armored man with dark skin, and grey-blonde hair. Nels 3'7" 42 Lb Goblin Male Tall, for a goblin, and athletic. Close-cut black hair. Zant 6'0" 190 Lb Human Male Olive-skinned, wild-haired young man in simple clothes Merek 5'10" 215 Lb Human Male A black-haired, dusky male with golden eyes. Elleandra 5'4" 108 Lb Wild Elf Female Blue-haired, green-eyes, Sylvanori in green leather. Edinaz 6'10" 296 Lb Half-Orc Male Grey-skinned half-oruch, extensive black ink. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
The dark and foggy evening has lent the Fernwood Pub a crowded common room, and it is as lively inside as it is still and quiet outside. The sound of singing and clapping can be heard a distance away, and the folks are mostly lead by a wee Goblin standing on stage. Her song is a common one, more than a little bawdy, and the crowd simply eats it up. The ale is flowing, and the Gobbo's just finishing up...
"Way hey and up she rises... early in th'morning!"
To some cheering and much clapping, Acedia waves and steps from the stage, and more rounds of ale are called for and had.
A white-scaled sith-makar slips in from the kitchen. The door swings wide and seems about to snap on her tail, when she catches it with a curl, and lets it quitely close by slipping her tailtip off. She is dressed normally, her white leather armour, the 'Fernwood Pub' apron, and carries a single plate which appears to be piled high with charcoal. She slinks into the last seat on the bar, and grips the rail with both feet. "Water," she requests, and it is slid over to her. She takes the glass and looks around, tail wrapping about her stool.
Aya emerges from a room on the upper level and pauses on the mezzanine to look over the patronage. The evening is when her 'day' oft begins, and when the more interesting events tend to become more common.
Even Seldan isn't opposed to a lively and cheerful pub scene, now and again, although the heavy steel brooch with the crescent and sphere is pinned to the neck of the black-and-silver coat he wears. He closes the door behind him, looks around, and takes himself over to the bar. He nods politely to Cryosanthia, and bespeaks himself an ale, then turns to watch the performer do her work. A figure he knows well, to besure, but not wanting to interrupt her, he just watches from the bar.
Due to her stature, Acedia vanishes into the crowd when she leaves the stage, though her presence can be spotted since some of the crowd cheers her along, or offers coin, or ruffles her hair. Those that touch her hair seem to be known by her, she stops with many to speak with them.
A short time later, the Gobbo makes her presence known to Seldan by hugging his leg.
'Hello, Seldan!", she says with a broad, and toothy, grin.
The Fernwood is quite busy and boistrous, a lot of regulars in for whatever appears as the 'open stage' show, drinking heavily with a lot of the simpler menu items being ordered. All the servers are on tonight, the human, the half-elf and the sith-makar, although the last one isn't circulating the floor like the other two.
Cryosanthia raises a hand to Seldan, but say nothing more as he gets company. She seems lethargic and focused on her water, and the burnt substance she's eating slowly.
Aya notes the boisterousness of the crowd following the performance. Good spirits, it seems. Rather than attempt to wade through the crowd, and possibly diminish said spirits, she simply relocates herself to the bar rather than cross the intervening space.
Seldan has a limpet. A toothy limpet. He looks down with a grin, just as his ale is slid that way, and reaches to pick up the gobber as one might a child. Once she is settled, either on the bar or snuggled against him, he frees a hand and fishes the coin for the drink from his beltpouch, leaving them on the counter. "The night goes well for you, then?" He looks briefly at Cryosanthia, but says nothing yet - and does not seem to have seen Aya at all.
The Gobbo eyes Aya as she settles nearby at the bar, and Acedia offers her a nod and a wink before Seldan picks her up. She squeaks and laughs, and is happy to be held, but after a few moments of hugging she wiggles free and sets herself on the bar. "The night goes very well. I think I take it back, winter is the best season. Everyone wants to come in and be warm. And listen to a song or four." She giggles and then gasps, waving enthusiastically at Cryosanthia.
Cryo seems to be in her own world. Although appearances are deceiving. She startles at Aya's sudden arrival at the bar, but has already locked herself onto her seat so strongly her reaction is fumbling her drink and splashing water all over the bar and her 'meal'.
She sighs and raises her hands, making a quick arcane gesture that causes her gloves to glow. She follows up with wiping motions at her mess, and it vanishes. Along with the charcoal she was eating. "Gloves, we're going to have to have words, my meal isn't dirt."
Catching Acedia's wave, Cryo laughs with a little smile, and waves back, nodding.
Aya arches a brow at Cryosanthia's reaction and subsequent vanishing of her ...meal(?) "I didn't intend to startle you, nor interrupt your dining. I was merely attempting to avoid the crowd."
The door swings open to allow some of the chill air to come into the bar. Accompanying that with some weighty hoof falls, the silver chimera who's have some fashion upgrades of late. As she croses the threshold and pushes the door closed once more, she shoulders her favored scythe with a blanket, "Heyo!" to the room.
"At times, the magic is wiser than we are," Seldan chuckles, having set Acedia on the bar when she wanted it. "I for one do not mind the cold, but I could do with a bit of sun. Cryosanthia, are you all right?" He nods politely to Aya as well, although much more reservedly so. "It is no crime to want to get away from the crowd," he agrees.
"It's all right." Cryosanthia says, shaking her head. "Last night left me jumpy. I can get some more."
The bartender is already asking the chef through the window, and a plate arrives not soon after.
She nods to Seldan, "I was in Merkabah last night, it was the butterflies, of all things."
Hearing and seeing Braelnoir enter, Cryo waves to the silvery chimera, sitting taller in her seat, gesturing for her to come over.
Acedia eyes Aya a moment, and then looks on as Crysanthia's gloves(?) make things vanish. Her ears perk up, and there's a little envy in her eyes. "What did they do?", she wonders of the Sith. She glances to Seldan and giggles. "I miss the sun, also. But then, I am from the sandseas to the south. This place is far too cold..."
Whatever else was to be said is lost as the Gobbo squeaks loudly and bounces from the bar, emerging from the crowd to throw herself at Braelnoir.
Braelnoir turns back toward the room as she indexes the scythe to blade down over her shoulder, and starts her drift inward. At the familiar squeak, she gives a grin, shifting her hoofing as her free hand lifts in a wave just in time for impact that drives her weight to the back hoof, tail lashing behind her, "Oof! Hey, Ace! How ya been, girl?" A brief hug, and she gently smooths the Goblin's hair with her free hand, then looks up to the others, "Sel, Cryo, w'cha been up to?" She nods to the Mul'iessa, then, starts looking about for a table.
Both of Seldan's eyebrows lift upwards in surprise. "Merkabah? What sought you in a such a place? One does not venture there lightly." He picks up his ale off of the bar and sips from it, but the white sith-makar has his attention now.
Ezil tries to slip in quietly, but the mild wind slips passed him into the room as he opens the door. It's quickly shut, and Ezil's glance rises to look about the room as he crosses toward the bar. Some familiar faces, and others he barely knows. "I'll take a small-beer." he offers to the barkeep, taking his time, and just watching the crowds as he counts a bit of coppers.
"They're Apprentice Cheat gloves" Cryosanthia explains, as Acedia launches herself at Braelnoir. She's holding her hands out to show off gloves that are made out of a white-scaled leather, which matches her own scales so well they're hard to see. The backs of them have her arcane mark, a dragon-eye formed with the letters CRYO, debossed on them. This show and tell is mostly overlooked by the intended target, although the bartender does get in a good look. She pulls her hands back, and eats one of the charcoal lumps in front of her.
Looking directly at Seldan, Cryo nods with a slight smile. "Rescue mission." She glances at the open stage, which is still open, then back at Seldan, "It's not a long story. Everyone might benefit from hearing it. The simple summary is we succeeded. It was stressful, for too long, and that made me stomach sick."
The barkeep nods, sliding a small-beer over towards Ezil. "Here you go."
The Gobbo also oofs as she collides with Braelnoir, and she clings for the hug and hair fussing before she hops down. "I've been good! How're you holding up? Any insight as to your change and how t'get back?" Acedia grabs at one of Braelnoir's hand and attempts to pull her in the direction of the bar. "Come sit by Seldan! We can sit and eat and drink and talk!"
Acedia peers at the gloves on Cryo's hands as she walks back to the bar. "What do they do, then?"
Braelnoir looks over her shoulder as the door opens again and she grins a, "Hey, Eezee!" as she is suddenly led by the much less pawlike appendage than she had, before, keeping her scythe over her shoulder with the other. Her tail holds much higher than usual with her partial stoop and she takes little steps to match Ace's stride. Spying Cryo's meal, she looks vaguely concerned gives Ace's hand a little squeeze, "'scuze me a minute, luv, gotta check on 'er."
"Kushti. Thank you." Ezil murmurs, his tsuran bleeding into his words as he takes the drink, and leaves the coins. "Busy today." he notes to no one in particular, raising his free hand to Seldan, and those near him. "Hallo!"
Ezil's pace and feet carry him from those near the bar, sipping his drink as he finds an empty seat near the back of the pub. His movements are slower than usual, one of his legs stiff as he sits and returns a greeting to Braelnoir. "Hallo there, Brae!" smiling wider, but seeming to mind his own business this day.
Seldan raises his mug of ale to Ezil, but the man has settled down away from the bar, and so he turns away from that to listen to Cryosanthia. "You have then ventured into Merkabah," he says. "I would hear all that you care to tell of the place, if the Guild sends people there. Your words may save others much grief." When Braelnoir comes up, he looks her up and down. "Do my eyes deceive me, or do you begin to find your human shape?"
Aya looks between Seldan and Cryosanthia following the latter's mention of Merkebah. "Is that what had you so unsettled?" She now gives Seldan a nod in greetings and notes the familiar (conspicuously so) Braelnoir.
Cryo wriggles her left hand through some arcane gestures, and her gloves glow briefly. "Prestidigation, which can do a bunch of things, like this." She curls her fingers up, flips her hand over, and there's a small Rook chess piece on her palm. It's crudely formed, but recognizeable. She sets it on the bar. "Mostly I use it for cleaning. It cleans amazingly well!"
The sith-makar follows up with more gestures with her right hand. Again there's a glow. "And Mage hand, which can do this." She reaches out towards her plate, makes a grasping motion, and then it floats up. She circles it around in the air, then back down on the table. She grins eagerly at Acedia, "Neat, yes?"
"Hey Braelnoir, hi." Cryo unwinds her tail from her chair, extricates her feet and stands so she can hug the silvery chimera. She squeezes tightly, and her tail gets loose. She looks over Braelnoir's shoulder at Seldan, nodding, "I was in Merkabah. Ezil also. I think... I think I will perform the story." In answer to Aya, she laughs a little, "Yes. A silly thing, you'll see."
The Limpet returns to Seldan's leg after nodding to Braelnoir, and then Acedia returns to her spot on the bar. Her ears perk up at the mention of Merkabeh, and she shakes her head. "That place is full of ill omen. At the very least. You are either very brave or very foolish to go there." The Gobbo turns to speak to the barkeep. She turns back in time to see Cryosanthia's gloves in action, the Gobbo canting her head to one side and then the other. "Neat!"
"Well, it wasn't flaming slimes during this expedition... but..." Ezil motioning to Cryosanthia from where he sits. "I'll let her tell the tale." musing as he sips his drink, shifting a bit to look at the others from where he's parked himself. "I'm still sore from it." this directed to Seldan. "Felt like a living pincushion." sipping on his watery drink, and falling silent to hear the Sith-Makar's rendition.
"Least one'a the... well, been callin'm darts, that cause th'transformation musta burnt'self out. Kae said she's seen it happen sometimes, but I ain't run into'er since it happened, so I'm just guessin'." Brae answers Seldan. Her attention returns to Cryo and meets the embrace with her own, resting her cheek against the sith's neck and giving a squeeze, murmurs something softly, then aloud "So, had a little fun've my own. Merkabah's been rattlin' around a lot on folks lips out'n the trainin' fields. Been more'n a little curious, m'self."
Merek makes his way into the place to look about, then finds a nice place to settle in, while he listens about while watching people in thought.
"I'm good. I'll be good." Cryosanthia whispers, slipping from Braelnoir's embrace. She eats another piece of charcoal and swallows down her entire glass of water. Another is placed before her, as she leans her neck from side to side, and shakes her arms loose from shoulders to wrist. She hops her weight from foot to food. A fellow performer might recognize these as pre-stage jitters, a fellow fighter a weak warm up for battle. She takes the second glass and stalks proudly towards the stage, each stide a long one, tail high and cruising behind her. She steps on the stage, finds a place for her glass. Her hands flicker, her tattoos glow faintly as she casts cantrips to enhance her show. She turns to face the crowd.
"Ladies and Gentlemen of Fernwood!" Her voice is loud, as if five of her are speaking, drops to normal once there is quiet for the next thing she says. "Allow me to tell you a tale of... MerrKahBaahhh!"
Eerie mechanical noises sound off around the Fernwood as she names the place. Scraping, clicking noises, and the sound of gears.
Acedia gasps and cheers Cryosanthia on, and claps enthusiastically. She leans forward so that she doesn't miss anything.
Nels arrives at the Fernwood, looking tired. Bloodshot eyes, slouch, drooping eyelids. She peers around, looking for a table.
Braelnoir nods after Cryo at her assurances, but, with the sith turning to prep for a show, she glances at her scythe and, "Be right back." With that, she makes her way upstairs to put the weapon in her room.
Seldan seems to have been content to listen and sip on his drink for a time, while this is going on around him, although he does easily and cheerfully hoist Acedia to the bar, should she wish it. When Ezil explains, though, the paladin only nods, a frown of concern on his lips and a question unspoken in his eyes. "What made of you a pincushion?" is all he asks the Sentinel in words.
Somewhere amidst the flow of people moving in and out through the door to the pub, appears a flurry of two brilliant scarves! That? That would be Zant, and the instant his motion settles to him standing just on the inside of the door, his hand is raised and mouth is opening to call out a greeting, with a bright and cheerful expression... only to be halted by the bombastic announcement from Cryosanthia of A STORY! So instead, his hand falls back down, his eyes blink a few times over, and then he's shuffling his way further in. A chair is grabbed from somewhere, turned so that the backrest is facing the storyteller, and he sits himself down upon it, still scooting closer a bit with it. Once finally settled into place, he nudges his elbow to whoever happens to be closest, and whispers, "What's a Merkabah?"
"So believe it or not, the Explorer's guild thought I was a good choice for this." The white-scale sith-makar server of the Fernwood Pub starts off, standing casually and swaying her tail behind. She wiggles her fingers and there's the sound of armour shifting, the ambience of that place. "A rescue mission. The second one, to find the first rescue mission that was sent to find some workers that didn't return. I'm thinking, 'you guys really don't like me much...' But okay. So we're looking for Goblins that went looking for Goblins, and they left notes. Our party was Ezil, he's over there! Poc and Nels, wonderful gobbers, and Lysos, Shin, and Shin's tiger. Nels is... Nels hearing this too!"
Cryo doesn't point her out though.
"Of course, everyone wants to be in front. Except Lysos, she is very happy at the back. We follow these marks, the workers, who have written down all the passages they're exploring and what they think they've found, and the guards, who made a red line. Every step we're thinking, 'okay, they made it this far...'. No one gave us chalk, so I'm leaving my mark all the way. Spread out so if you're in a flat out run and blinking as you go, you see it each time you open your eyes. If you're going to run, might as well do it correctly, right?"
Cryo leans into the audience, running in place with an exagerated pump of her arms and a grin. She stands again, one leg crossed in front of the other. She makes pointing motions at the floor, "So the notes are, 'Dutta stinks', 'Wish had beer', 'artifice this way', 'bad no go', 'five by five'. Super helpful things. Guards, big fat no nonense red line in a straightaway. We keep on that red line. We're going through caverns and some open spaces, so there's a lot to look around at."
Ezil raises a brow to Cryosanthia, shaking his head after a huff of a laugh. "Svarshan's theatrics are rubbing off on her." he muses to himself from his table, another swig taken as he relaxes back into his seat, and lets the Sith-Makar do her thing. It's then he turns an eye to Seldan, motioning to Cryosanthia once more. "She's about to tell you." winking to the man, and seeming to not need any real aid. Zant is noticed, smirking at the enthusiasm that's given.
Nels ehs at Zant's question. "It's the biggest news in years," she explains. "You've really been asleep if you've missed it completely." She looks up as Cryo identifies her, but any comment is lost in a yawn of her own, and she calls for food and ale while the story continues.
Acedia offers Seldan another hug, and then moves to give one to Brael, before she turns and heads for the door, slipping quietly into fog beyond.
Seldan nods to Ezil, and only allows himself to be distracted from the story at hand by the quick hug and departure of the Gobber, and he looks after her with a bemused smile. He, too, has spotted Zant, but says nothing, not wishing to disrupt the storyteller.
Merek listens while he watches, nodding a bit along with the story!
Cryosanthia waves her arm in a wide sweeping motion. There's a tinkling sound, like crystals, around the Fernwood which creates a sense of space opening up. "The passage we're following opens up into this large chamber with a broken fountain in the middle of it. A fountain with a large X written on the bowl. All of are thinking, this is promising. A couple of us, Ezil and Shin, start forward. I'm looking around because, big open space, that's gotta be trouble right. Then!"
She makes a dramatic wave. Behind the bar, there's a sound of something large. The skittery tapping of many bug legs, a metallic clink and grinding. She points at the balcony, the chittery clicking is there as well, another gesture and a sound emmanates from the central table. The mechanical squeals have a pitch that makes skin crawl.
Cryo opens her eyes wide, a look of shock, spreads her palms. "They're everywhere. Moving! They look just like the stone, hard to see, but when you see them, you wish you didn't. Imagine a scorpion, that's the size of a dog, eight legs, stinger. It doesn't have a normal head. It's got something like a dish that's full of eyes. Not one, but dozens. They all pop out, and start doing this dance at us."
The sith-makar leans low and mimics some sort of insectoid movements, her tail curled up behind her like a stinger, wiggling and making phantom jabs at people.
She stands up again, "Now, this is when a cowardly person might scream like a little girl and faint." A wave, and a high pitched shriek sounds near the bartender, who smirks. "I. Did not."
"Instead, it was 'look out, run up', and our group split into two." Cryo pauses, turning around, picking up her glass of water, and takes a long sip. She smacks her lips, and sets it down again, "In case you didn't know, never split the party."
GAME: Nels rolls athletics: (17)+9: 26
Nels is actually surprised by the sight and sound of the mechanical bugs. She -does- scream, which she didn't do in the original event, and she leaps up from her chair and clears the bar in a flat leap, almost running into the barman. /Then/, she looks around warily.
Zant seems to get into it pretty well. Even without the added effect of the metallic bugs skittering about, he's still lowering his face down to hide most of it behind the chair's backrest while his green eyes peek over it to the lizardgirl. Nels' sudden scream brings a jolt into him, though, and it's enough to make him jump *with* the chair before he straightens up and snaps his attention to her, eyes widened to the size of saucers from the sheer surprise alone.
Ezil coughs into a hand at Nel's remembrance, trying to stifle a laugh. "We didn't split our party. They cut into us, and trapped us off from one another." he clarifies with a large smile. "I was less than forty feet from you!" scoffing in play and shaking his head. "Damned things were terrible. I had already approached the fountain before you yelled 'look out'." letting Cryosanthia continue the tale and quickly finishing his drink after his two-coppers are put in. "Though no... none of it was pleasant." growing a bit somber at his last words, his smile quickly fading.
Braelnoir trades hugs with Ace, then handles her errand upstairs before she returns to ventures toward the bar, still listening.
Seldan looks with a start at the bar, at the sound of the bugs, one hand going to his hip ... but on realizing what had been done, he settles back down into his lean against the bar with a rueful chuckle. "Few acts are more dangerous - or more foolish - among those who work for the Guild than splitting up," he observes in a murmur to whoever might be listening. "We are never sent alone, and for good reason."
Several others present jump at the sound of the bugs, especially when Nels screams. They shift nervously, looking under the tables, picking up dining knives.
"That was exactly how I felt. Sorry about that Nels." Cryo says, smiling sheepishly. She tugs at her apron, then resumes.
"So! The fight is on! Poc ran up to be with Ezil and Shin, I'm with Nels and Lysos. We're not spread too far, but let me tell you, when a battle is going badly, every foot seems like ten." She slips into a fencing stance. She doesn't have her rapier with her, instead she flicks another arcane gesture and an icicle appears in her hand. A snowball of ice forms as a guard and the blade grows long, pointy and thin. Not a rapier, but as best a dagger can imply. She makes some flashy movements with it. "I was occupied, I didn't see everything. They're striking at me, I'm striking back. I hear this tok, tok, tok, sound as things are bouncing off Ezil's shield. Unpleasant noises, like soft fists smashing metal. Colour sprays are going off beside me as Lysos gets into. Nels!"
Cryo flicks her fingers, there's a 'BOOM' as if a thunder belcher went off. It's high, near the ceiling so it volume isn't as bad as it could be, but it still shakes the windows. "That's a scary noise here, but in battle it's the most beautiful thing. That's what Nels gun sounds like, and when you hear it, you know she put something down. So we're fighting. There's four of these scorpions."
Cryo pauses, dipping to pick up her glass of water again. She stirs it with her ice dagger, takes a sip, and sets it back down. "Each."
Nels realizes, belatedly, that it's just a retelling, and, face crimson, she makes her way out from behind the bar in the normal way, offering an apology to the barman and buying a drink for the one fellow she almost kicked going over. "Sorry about that." She goes back to her table and hangs her head a bit, now very quiet. She does pause to give Cryo an incredulous look at /four/ scorpions, but when 'each' is added, she nods wearily.
Ezil nods to these parts of the recounting, sighing for a moment, though the sound of the dragonspitter makes him jump in his seat. "Yeah... theatrics." he affirms, his dourness still sinking as the tale goes on. This is not a good memory it seems, and he can't feign happiness about it. To Nels he glances, a nod given as they too still seem a bit shaken.
Zant relaxes again when Nels gets back from that side of the bar, and he returns to his previous posture of leaned down, lower face concealed by the chair's backrest while his hands cling onto the top of it. "...Did the gunshot put one of them down, then?" He asks, just before the number of 'scorpions' is recited. And there's a very visible shiver running across the young man's entire body.
Cryo holds a hand out, wiggles her fingers. Her arms are a-glow almost constantly, pulsing with an eerie unsettling green as she speaks and triggers cantrips for effects. The sounds of the battle described rise up around the room, metallic stingers on flesh and shield, the whisper of arrows, arcane chanting, confused cries and the ever present skittering, clicking of bugs.
"Yes, they're going down, but it's slow. Two or three hits is necessary on each. I'm distracted with my fight. What I didn't realize was every time these struck, they poisonned my companions a little more. First they grew slower, then they stopped moving completely. I kept hearing bugs, but the sounds of my friends fighting was fading."
The balance of the noises shift, more skin-crawling bug noises, less of metal on metal, and wet noises. Which some would recognize as stingers hitting home.
"Ezil took so many hits, I have no idea how he stayed standing. Shin was frozen. Poc and I were okay, Lysos was overwhelmed. Nels... Nels, you might want to look away... I'm sorry." Cryo mimes looking around as she says the names, she's facing the wall when she gives the warning to Nels. Her ice dagger is dropped in her glass of water and melts away, and she's doing something with her apron. "I'm looking at Nels to see what's happened, and..."
She spins around, "IT'S ON HER FACE!"
Cryo has twisted up her apron to look like a scorpion, and used prestidigation to make some small rings and pins to enhance the impression. It's obviously her apron, plastered over her face, ties hanging down. For a second though, it's convincing.
Nels oddly, doesn't find the sight of Cryo pretending to be her with a scorpion on her face horrifying. Of course she had a real scoropion on her face and was paralyzed so all she could do was watch in horror. Watching it happen to someone else is much less traumatic. She sips her beer, though she's left her food to sit.
"Honestly? I don't know how I was standing either." Ezil's words low as he sits in his seat, looking more at the table than anyone else. Cryosanthia's impression is missed, but perhaps that's on purpose. It was not a good job to be on. "Those stingers hurt. Each one like a dagger." sighing and setting his empty mug aside. "They stopped though... decided I wasn't worth the wast of poison." he counters, trying to joke.
Zant, on the other hand, being fully immersed with the story as he is, actually gasps out a loud "NO!" from Cryo's theatrics about the facehugging.
"By Althea's grace were you yet standing, I would wager." Seldan murmurs that quietly, finishes his ale, and sets it back onto the counter, and shaking his head when the barkeep silently asks him if he wants another. "Not all jobs go smoothly, but if you will excuse me." Nodding politely to all present, he buttons his coat again and takes himself towards the doors.
"When you're adventuring, you usually have a conversation with the others, especially the mages, about things you're good at or you don't want them to do." Cryosanthia takes the scorpion-apron off her face and sets it down. She brushes at the front of her armour, looks out at the crowd. "A popular starter in this conversation is 'don't fireball me'."
She wipes at her lips, shudders a little. The sound effects have gone quiet, for now. She gestures wanely, "Well, fireball is back on the table for me at this point. Nels is paralyzed and I have no idea what it's doing to her face. Shin is the same way, and his tiger is freaking out. We all kind of agree, yes, let's run and figure this out. As Ezil said, they stopped attacking him. The stopped attacking me too, if I left them alone. So, we sort of ran away, sort of backed off to see what they would do."
"Nels and Shin started walking, following the critters. They all lined up and trudged along. I got in behind them and went with the group, and they didn't care. Ezil and the rest, followed way back, so they could see me, but hopefully wouldn't set them off again. They walked, there was a worn path, it went through caverns. Every step I'm wondering if they're going to turn on me, or something else is going to pop out. It was nerve wracking, but... nothing happened."
Nels nods slowly as the story continues. She was there, for all she was watching it as passively as anyone here. With a metal bug on her face. She takes another drink, then finishes the mug and calls for more. This is not a sober memory.
Braelnoir settles in and watches intently, a curiously measured expression on her face. She's taking the tale and assorted special effects with equal aplomb, absorbing them with an uncharacteristic zen. She's taking it in as a tactical puzzle to be disected and solved as things could be going there, soon. She does lean forward and prop her arm up on the bartop, bringing the crook of her finger to her lips as she's at that.
Ezil nods affirmation to this, standing with his empty mug as he heads towards the bar to get a second drink. He doesn't comment, letting the Sith-Makar recount this last bit as he chooses to change seats, sitting next to Braelnoir.
Zant is at the edge of his seat while listening to this story! Or, well, at the backrest, since it's turned the other way around. Same difference. He stays quiet at attention for a good moment, before he suddenly asks, "...Why didn't they attack you?"
The opening door does little to add to the light at this hour, and so it is easy to overlook the entrance of Elly. Today, her smile is ever-so-slightly out of its normal shine. She looks.. preoccupied as she wanders towards the bar. Unceremoniously she sets herself on a stool and draws out a piece of paper, looking over it so much that she fails to realize the bartender is attempting to get her attention. Only when he reaches out, attempting to brush the paper aside does she react, grabbing him by the wrist and saying in a calm and commanding tone, "My appologies, sir, but I cannot allow you to touch this." Letting him go a moment later, she adds pleasantly, "Spiced wine, please."
The bartender nods, pouring a large glass of wine for Elleandra and setting it before her.
The patrons of the Fernwood seem captivated by a story teller on the pub's stage.
Meanwhile up on that stage, Cryosanthia forces herself to stand straighter. Some of the retelling seeped in, made her muscles tense up again as she attempts to turn the feelings into words, when they are more easily turning into anxiety. "So, they were very precies, two lines, all legs moving in unison. Even Nels and Shin, had this undead gait. The scorpions had their tails in the backs of their necks, and the dish-face, was looking forward."
"I don't know Zant, they just didn't. I did a scorpion dance back at them and perhaps they thought I was one of them. They gave up on Ezil after a while too, and Lysos, once she withdrew."
She makes a gesture, the sound of grinding gears echoes around the pub, "they communicated with the place, they signaled it, doors opened, or would if they weren't already broken open. I followed them, into the darkness, into their lair. We came to a lab, my friends were put up on the slab. Then they left. All the scorpions clicked into a hole in the wall, vanished."
"It was some sort of surgery, to attach artifice limbs. There were three smashed guards. Ogre sized war-golems or artifices. Broken, melted. There's not too much to tell, the goblin guards from the rescue party were coming out of the paralytic, all the worker goblins popped out of hiding places, Nels was waking up. The biggest difficulty was getting Mirai to carry Shin, and the goblins to leave. Ezil had to come in and give them the 'speech'. We all bunched up, marched out, expecting an ambush at every step. There was nothing. We got out just fine."
Ezil bobs his head to Cryosanthia's last remark. "More a stern warning than a speech, but... yes." he notes, seeming to decide better than to order a second drink. "It was a nice tale, White-One, but... I best be on my way. I needed a drink, and that's what I got." smirking. "And it did make a nice bar tale, didn't it?" seeming to not spend as much time in the pub this night. Nope, thoughts still dance in his head as he stands and walks towards the door. "Have a nice night, all of you."
Nels drains her next glass of beer also at the final bit of the story. She remembers it, if vagueley. It was all kind of strange, and the bits about not being in control of her body were fuzzy in her head. "Gah," she says with a sigh as the story concludes. "It sounded kind of exciting that way. Let me tell you, I -never- want to fight those things again. They were way too butch for us. They got the first team of rescuers."
"But..." Zant murmurs from his turned-around seat, mouth still concealed behind the backrest of it. "Did... Was the dance you did some kind of facehugger scorpion--" Pause. "...Companion dance?" Smooth.
Elleandra looks up at the familiar voice and smiles to see Cryo on the stage. she's a bit too distracted to quite piece the story together, and having missed the front part is a bit lost. She does know she probably offended the bartender, and as casually as possible ensures the purity of her wine with a bit of arcane work. Satisfied with her safety, she drinks and surveys the pub, looking for other familiar faces.
"A mating dance? I don't think so. They were machines. I danced back whatever they were doing at me, as best I could." Cryo explains, waving a hand in front of her as if she's weilding a rapier again.
"That's the end of it, really, the story. For us, we were shivering with antici... pation, each step. What will happen? What's that shadow? Keep moving everyone, be quiet. Stay tight. Don't stop to write rude graffiti! No we don't have time to loot. It was... stressful. Trying to move that large a group back to the safety of the waystation." She looks tired as she explains, sith-makar don't show fatigue as easily as other species, but there are signs. Her tail is lying loose on the ground behind her, her standing rocks a little too much. She's nearing the end of her performance and run out of energy already.
Almost, she rises, her tail coils behind her, she gathers her arms, her voice gets low and ominious. "Then. The last step nearly, when we're there...."
She throws her arms wide. A flock of copper butterflies flutter out over the crowd, emanating from her sleeves. The reflect the light, casting dots around the walls and ceiling. Some make it across the bar, others only halfway and land on tables and the floor. Littering about. Upon examination, they're barely more than two diamond shaped copper leaves attached on a point.
"A flock of butterflies came out of nowhere, and that's when the butterflies in my stomach decided to join them and I got sick. I've had trouble keeping food down since." Cryosanthia admits, picking up her glass, draining it, and retrieving her apron. "Thanks everyone, for listening to my tale... of Merkaabaaah!"
She leaves the stage with an ominous echo of the name fading in the pub.
Nels nods if anyone's looking her way. "I remember that bit. And shooting some critters. The inbetween, not so much." Which is probably just as well. She drains her drink, leaves some coins on her table, and heads out, supper untouched.
Elleandra catches one of the butterflies and smiles, considering for a moment, then slipping it ever-so-carefully into an envelope. She waits for Cryo to step off the stage, then offers a wave. She knows her friend is busy, so she will patiently turn her attention back to the paper once more.
Despite being vaguely disturbed by some of the contents of the story, Zant's eyes *are* still sparkling while he listens to it all so attentively. Credit to Cryosanthia for being so good with the theatrics. ONce she declares the story to be over? That's when he straightens up from his halfway-hiding behind the chair's backrest, and claps his hands together, once. "That was so exciting!" He chimes out, cheerfully-- only for his voice to lower right after. "...Um, it must have been awful at the time, though."
Braelnoir lifts her chin breaking into applause with a sharp whistle before she cries an approving, "AROOYAH!" even going so far as to slip down off the stool. She tap-taps her fist agains the bar then gives a nod toward Cryo, "Get'r somethin on me, luvvie." She looks at the tiny copper contrivance a moment, but doesn't try to pick it up, "Nice show, luv!"
The clapping spreads, as others around the pub join Zant in showing appreciation.
Cryo stands in the middle, receiving it with a wide grin. She makes a few flashy bows, laughing, "Thank you everyone, for listening, I'm glad you enjoyed. Remember, tip the other servers well, they're covering for today because I don't feel well."
She slips off to a side table, where she can sit with Braelnoir, Zant and Elleandra. Sliding into a seat she waves for the others to come over. "Thanks Braelnoir, I will. And yes it was Zant. Getting panic sick at the end. So heroic."
She looks around for Nels, she seems to have gone. Oh well.
It takes a moment for Elleandra to join, but she is quite pleased for the invitation, judging by her smile. "I see you have many skills, Cryosanthia," she says cheerfully. With a quick bob of a curtsey she claims a seat. "I actually need some advice. I need someone to deliver an important letter." As she mentions the letter, she holds the paper to her chest and her cheeks turn ever so slightly pink.
"I... suppose that's why most stories of adventurers' exploits leave that part out," Zant points out to Cryo with a brief rumble of a laugh, now lifting himself up so he can bring the chair back over to the table proper, and... well, get it set there the right way around when he sits down again. "Even though it must happen to everyone sometimes, right? Even the greatest heroes of legend can't have been born with a mind and gut used to all kinds of horrors."
"Some might, oruchs might." Cryo grins at Zant, leaning back in her chair and resting her head against the wall. She smiles very warmly at Elleandra, "Peace on your Nest. Thanks for joining us. This one can advise, with letters. I usually am the messenger, it's one of my main jobs. It is personal?"
She's come to recognize what blushes mean.
Braelnoir sets a hand on Cryo's shoulder for a moment, then looks between the others, "Take's trainin'." she comments offhandedly in reply. Her eyes flick to the letter, because why wouldn't they, but quickly find themselves diverted elsewhere.
"Extremely," says Elleandra. "But it's a long distance it must travel," she adds. "It must go to the southern sands of Veyshan's southern borders, where a group of khazad traders can get it to its rightful recipient." She folds the paper with great care and slips it into the envelope. She looks at the letter thoughtfully, "I don't have a great deal of money to pay, since I've not contributed very much in my Guild work thus far."
"I wouldn't say so!" Zant insists with a shake of his head. "I have seen some Oruchs empty their stomachs, like that! It's... kind of an impressive sight, actually. And horrifying."
His attention turns over to Elleandra, considering the letter she is grasping. "A letter for family?" He asks, head tilting-- and then his eyes take note of the blush. He doesn't comment on it, though. "If the Explorer's Guild sends out a mission to Veyshan, you could ask for them to carry it on the way there?"
The white-scale leans into Braelnoir's hand on her shoulder, watching her sit.
"This one doesn't actually know how to get a letter that far. The Guild... might be an option. Elleandra is concerned about expense, and they would charge. A wizard, perhaps, might have a way of communicating long distances... or Merek. He can access planes now, perhaps that allows him to cross continents too." Cryosanthia looks around, watching people come and go, and glances at Braelnoir's hands.
As Elleandra folds the letter, those looking would be able to catch a name: Kamaria. For those who are able to very quickly read Sildanyari, there would be more. "It is for someone very important to me," she explains, trying to and almost succeeding in not blushing once more. "I would prefer not to speak of it out in the open like this, however. It is a complicated, private situation. I apologize for the lack of detail."
"Private's private." the Chimera replies to the elf's musings. She gives Cryosanthia's shoulder a light squeeze before she notices the look her little digits get, "Yeah... missed'm more'n even I realized." she returns with a thoughtful smile. The fellow with the scarves gets a glance and, "Still takes trainin'."
"It's what I'm saying, yeah," the fellow with the scarves provides in agreement to... the Chimera. And no, he does not question that, either. "I know *I* would hurl."
"This one understands." Cryo says, all secrets safe with her as she can't read Sildanyari. "I'll ask at the airstrip, to see if I can find some prices. This may be a thing I should know."
She smiles at Braelnoir and Zant, "Please, no more about getting sick. Happier things. Those things were terrifying and I'm glad we got everyone out. It was by no means certain at any point."
"I appreciate your understanding," Elly says softly. Turning to the other topic, which has been working its way through the back of her mind, she suggests, "The heroes of legend were usually fighting for something of such importance that there was no turning back. Or, you might say those would-be heroes who did turn back, clearly wouldn't be worth remembering, I suppose." She tilts her head, staring off into space for a moment, "I am curious about something. Why would you go to that strange place? What is there that makes it worth the risk?"
Merek is settled about still, listening, he does wave to Brae as well as Cryosanthia, while he smiles, then nods a bit, a wave to Elle and Zant as well.
Braelnoir smirks a little at her scale sister and pokes the tip of her tongue out for a moment, then she looks to the elf, "Everythin'? Nothin'? The job's what takes ya anywhere, luv." She bobs her head a moment, then starts over toward Merek, lifting her recently reacquainted hand to wave his way, "Hey, luv. 'ow ya doin'?"
"Well, for me, a rescue mission is not a bad thing. I played it off, but... I would hope someone would come for me if I was lost or disappeared." The white-scale sith admits. She points at a mark on the table. It resembles a dragon eye, formed with letters from Sildanyari script which spell CRYO. "I put that everywhere, so people think of me."
"I've heard of other missions. Ezil went to get some Ore, and was badly injured. I'm not as keen to throw myself away for artifice. I know others go for the adventure itself, curiosity, to rise within the Explorer's guild. To get a good death, I know at least one Oruch who is rather proud his ancestors died at the paws of woodland beasts instead of becoming decrepit, and he seems focused on finding a good end for himself."
She spots Merek and waves for him to come over, pointing where a space could be made. She adds, "They do pay well." When Braelnoir isn't looking she does the same thing with her tongue, flickering it out of her mouth at her.
Elleandra nods thoughtfully, "So many have reasons to go. But it makes me wonder.. is anyone finding anything worth the trip? So far the stories are ending in needed rescues, great injury, and.. anyone coming back with their heart's desire?" Putting away the letter, her left hand starts twirling a lock of hair about itself, then unwinding it, and on. "I may look into it, in any case. I have a need of gold." She finds admitting it distasteful, clearly, and the word sounds awkward on her tongue.
"Then there's folks for whom just helping others is reason enough," Zant adds in. "...I admire people like that.
That said, the man with the two scarves lifts himself up to standing, and bows his head towards Cryosanthia with one fist bumped lightly to the left side of his chest. "Thank you for sharing your tale. You could tell stories with the best of the bards down at the Theatre District. I should be going, though... I need to attend to some studies at the Temple."
Merel nods a bit while he smiles to the place offered, "I'm doing alright," he says to Brae along with Cryo, settling in.
"Not every one gets a story." Brae asides and gently claps Merek's shoulder. She turns to regard the others trying to get the band together, "Everyone'n the Guild's got a hook."
"I have been meaning to go see them. Maybe apply." Cryo waves at Zant as he leaves. She seems energized from her performance. She wobbles her head at Elleandra, "I suppose something to spin a good story out of is another reason."
"I haven't heard of anyone coming back with their heart's desire. I think at best, artificer parts to sell to the goblins for their airship. Kaelyn's artifact, which caused Braelnoir's transformation, came from there I believe, but not recently. If you go Elly, be careful. Reality is cracked and warped there. Artifice is mistrusted and Merkabah is a large reason why."
She nods at Braelnoir's words, then the white-scale sith leans towards Merek as he sits, "Do you have a way to get to Veyshan's southern borders?"
Elleandra sighs softly and nods to herself, "Yes, it doesn't sound like a good place for me. It does little good to go chasing shortcuts at this point. Especially in a place that is far more likely to leave me dead than resolve my biggest problems." For all her acceptance, she can't help but be a touch disappointed. "And if something that dangerous came from there, I wouldn't even know how to safely take things out without doing bad things to myself on the way." She gives Braelnoir a sympathetic look and asks, "Is there good news on restoring yourself?"
Merek nods a bit, not adding a lot at the moment, waving to thjose that are on their way. At the clap, he gives a smile as well to Brae.
Braelnoir shrugs and holds up her hands, wiggling her fingers, "These's paws 'till a couple nights ago. Most'a this happened when some folks tried t'help me out. Ain't all bad, 'specially since I got these back." She smiles delightedly, then, "Kae's still workin' on it." Heavy hoof falls accompanying her stride, she drifts back to the group, "There'll likely be a lot o'folks tryin' to swing into the bigtime now Merkabah's open, but plenty o'outside work is gonna open up besides."
Edinaz pushes in through the doorway, a happy-enough smile on his face (which shows off the points of his teeth). He scans the room, taking a moment before heading for the bar.
"Merek," Cryosanthia leans in towards him again, "Do you know of a way to get a letter to Veyshan?"
The white-scale sith-makar leans back in her chair and indulges the rare experience of ordering something from one of the other servers circulating around. She manages to attract the Fernwood's human regular staffer, "A water please, ask Chef for some more charcoal, and a bit of stew, thanks."
She wiggles fingers at Braelnoir, just because, and nods. "Soon as Kaelyn gives the word I'll help her search."
She looks off in the distance, "I'm going to miss your scales."
At the bar, the bartender moves in front of Edinaz, "What'll it be?"
"I'm relieved that you are making progress. I can't imagine having to get used to a different body." Elleandra laughs at herself, "But given no choice, it might teach me a thing or two." Getting back to the serious topic of Merkabah, she says, "You know, it occurs to me that I might be able to setup a bit of business making food for those gathering for their adventures," suggests Elleandra. "Or even providing those who forget something simple with other things, like rope or bags." She's no merchant, but to her it all seems simple. Buy something for 1 gold, sell it for 1 gold and a couple silver pieces. She perks up as Cryosanthia asks Merek about Veyshan. She's hopeful, but tries not to get too excited.
Braelnoir shrugs and smiles some, "Kinda gotten used t'm myself, honestly." she replies. There's more to it, of course, but she's not gonna bring that up in mixed company. Looking back toward the door as Edinaz arrives, she gives a familiar call of "Edi, hey!" A silver hand lifts to wave by habit before her brain's locked on to the fact that she's almost a whole different creature, since the last time they met. She looks curiously at the elf, "Same as I tell them. Never know till yer tested, luv."
Merek nods a bit between them, "I think you are doing well." He then smiles to the woman Brae, "You look wonderful whichever way." To Cryosanthia, he blinks a bit, "Yes, I can bring your letter there, considering I'm Veyshanti."
"Airship travels that way, I go there on occasion."
"There! Found a way." Cryosanthia grins, very happy she's managed to resolve something without getting off her tail. "It will get there for sure if Merek takes it."
The palescale leans forward, resting her forearms on the table, "Your idea of selling supplies isn't bad. They didn't even have chalk for us, when we were following a chalk line. I was hoping we could have a bag of holding, especially on a rescue mission where we're looking for... about 15 goblins? I can carry a lot of goblins, but not that many. Being able to pop them in a bag for short spells would have really helped. A decanter of endless water might be useful. Merek can make some pretty neat things, have you seen these sleeves?"
Cryo indicates her forearms, which seem to have an unremarkable shirt underneath her leather armour. She concentrates, and then the shirt turns black. She stares at it some more and it's white again. "These do all sorts of stuff, but I usually keep them minimal."
That answer from Merek casts aside the veneer of calm that Elly has been maintaining. She immediately turns her attention to Merek, eyes locked on him, "You can?!" She looks both delighted and nervous. "How much would it cost to deliver a letter to dwarven traders on the southern border? It's a small city they do business with, called Nishabad." She needs a moment before realizing she's nearly shouting. With a bright blush she smiles at Cryosanthia, "That is really impressive, and thank you. I didn't even know who to ask. You've saved the day for me!" Assuming Merek doesn't charge a lot of gold for his help. She's hardly rich.
Braelnoir smiles a little at Merek's remark, "Always th'charmer." then looks to Elly, "She's right. Most times th'guild just assumes we have all we cuuld need fer th'usual missions. Mostly they hand groups special gear if ya need t'summon... avatars of turnips or special requirements fer killin th'target." To Cryo, "I think I heard folk talkin' about usin' them magic bags fer live critters an' they suffocated."
"I can make things for folk if they need," Merek then blinks a bit at Elle, "I wouldn't charge for a simple message," he says, then he thinks about it, "Just shop with me next time you need anything!" A nod also to Cryo and Brae!
"There's not a lot of air in the bags. It's only safe to keep them in for a 300 count. Besides, if it's possible to have an endless flask of water, maybe there could be a flask of wind or something. It's better than leaving them behind." Cryo suggests.
"I do have a list of things Merek, I'll let you know when I have some more gold." She looks over at Elleandra, "You should really get the sleeves, they're amazing."
Edinaz stands there for a moment, blinking. Then he looks at the bartender. "Whiskey, please." Fianlly, he looks towards Braelnoir and approaches the table. "Are you well? It's been some time, but most of the time people don't get /that/ furry."
It's rather comical how moved Elly is by Merek's response. "You don't know how much this matters to me," she says quietly. She takes out the envelope and sighs softly. "I cannot seal this, for it to reach its proper destination, it must be sealed instead by the khazad. I ask you not to read it, but if curiousity gets the best of you, I only ask that you don't smudge the writing." She offers it to Merek, "This is the most important message I have ever sent, Merek. I have little to offer, but my gratitude is yours if you can see this delivered. Perhaps some day I can repay you in some small way." Her emotions run so strong, her eyes look glassy, as if she were about to cry.
It lasts just a moment, and she forces herself to calm down. "But yes, I think I will see about finding a way to support those journeying to that place. It would even be a help if people simply shared stories, maps, anything. It may not work in such a strange place, but at least those entering would go in with their eyes open."
Braelnoir laughs, glancing at Edinaz, "Ha, y'ain't seen fur, yet, luv!" She beckons him over then, "Edinaz, ya met Merek" a gesture to the man, "Cryosanthia" to the sith and to the elf she... sorta falters, but arches an eyebrow, "an'... I'm sure you got a name, luv but I ain't sure I ever heard it."
Merek looks perplexed by the way Elle is then moved to it all. He nods to the woman, then he takes the envelope, while he finds a special tome which he places that into. "Alright, it will be delivered in the next day probably," he says, with a smile, nodding a bit. Then to Cryosanthia and Braelnoir, "Of course." He chuckles. Then he nods to Edinaz, offering a hand which is gloved as well.
The whiskey is brought to the table by a server, and placed near Edinaz.
Cryosanthia's meal also makes it out, as well as her glass of water. She takes them with a grateful smile. The sith watches the wild elf's expressions, the emotions clearly circulating, distracted by them and their complexity. She hears Braelnoir pause on her name, "Oh, this is Elleandra. This one should have made introductions, you seemed to know each other Braelnoir, and Merek, obviously."
She looks up to the standing oruch, "Hello, Edinaz."
"My apologies, I suppose meetings are more memorable for me, because everyone here is so amazing," explains Elleandra to Braelnoir. "I met you on my very first day in the city. It was shortly after that.. incident with the noble, as I recall. The one who was trying to put your friend in a menagerie." She can't help but grin at Merek, "There is one noble involved with that letter, and will no doubt try to interfere with its delivery, should he realize its source. But.. that shouldn't happen. The khazad will help see to that." If Merek could accidentally kill that noble, it would probably solve every problem. Still, that would be wrong. But it would be very convenient.
Edinaz just laughs towards Braelnoir. "I have, but... you?" He nods towards Merek, Cryossanthia, and Elle. "I'm Edinaz," he announces firmly, like it means something. A smile towards Elle, "A pleasure to see you again." He's getting smoother with the city expressions.
Merek looks then to Elle and blinks a bit, "I brought him back to life," he says. Then he nods to Cryosanthia and Braelnoir, while looking thoughtful, then to Edinaz, "Pleasure!" he says, smiling.
Braelnoir nods and looks between the group before looking back to Merek, "Anyone givin' ya a bad vibe, lately, any more outta that asshole'r his family?"
Elly nods her head politely to Edinaz. Merek's comment leaves her smiling, "I know, Merek! You are kind even to those who don't deserve it. I wonder, did that man suffer any consequences for what he was doing? Honestly a temporary trip to the other side doesn't seem quite adequate punishment. His plans were not temporary, as I understand it." She turns back to Edinaz, "Have you done work in that Merkabah place as well?"
"Merek did, it was a sight to behold." Cryosanthia confirms. In answer to Braelnoir and Elleandra's questions she scratches around her eye, playing with the small scales there, then shrugs, "He seemed occupied with family. The Watch followed up on events, I guess, and didn't find him too credible. I haven't seen him around, he might have been charged, or a fine, or nothing. Nobles."
Edinaz mmms in his throat. "I have not. When I inquired, I was informed at the work was more trouble than it was worth - no matter how much it was worth." A pause. "Was my information incorrect?" He takes a sip of his whiskey, relief spreading down his stiff spine almost visibly.
"Your information seems to be accurate," replies Elleandra. "It seems that so far people are either hurt, nearly killed, and walk away without much to show for the trouble." She looks to Merek, "Oh! That reminds me. A wizard sent me to the plane of fire. It didn't go well, and it was not a very picturesque place, either. If you were thinking of visiting, I'd try elsewhere instead." Turning to Cryosanthia, Elly sighs, "So just because this person has money he can walk away without punishment?"
Merek nods a bit, "No issue, I am focused upon my things, like the Plane," he says.
Braelnoir nods and shrugs, "We'll keep on'r...." Her expression darkens suddenly and, "Has -anyone- seen Kaelyn the last few days?" She looks to Elly at that and arches an eyebrow, "I went huntin' a two headed dire worg, turned out she could breathe cold." She considers her almost mirrored scales, then, "Also turns out breathin' cold is -too- cold fer this body's defenses."
Edinaz nods to Elleandra. "That, at least, is something." He sits down. "The elemental plane of fire? That sounds fascin--" He pauses. "Kaelyn -- lots of energy. LOTS of energy?" He frowns. "No, not for some time yet. Did you skin the wolf? That would make a fantastic cloak." Oruch fashion strikes again!
"Well, he did die, and his family tried to keep him dead, and his 'story' was he was being a hero and saving Alexandria from dangerous monsters. Enough people on the street were concerned it's 'plausible'. That's how Braelnoir ended up with her sign. Wait, what? A wolf can breath cold? That seems unfair." Cryosanthia pouts, envious of functional breath weapons.
"I haven't seen Kaelyn. I think she sealed herself in her room to do artifice things. Kind of more like a gnome than an elf, but who knows how being a dragon changed her thinking. That's about all I found out from one of the Watch who had been there, a couple days after he was raised. Maybe something more is going on, I don't know. And, Plane of Fire. Yes, Water, is going to be enough for me, I think."
The absence of anyone who knows Kaelyn's whereabouts is troubling. Still, it seems rather absurd that the guards would let something bad happen to here. AGAIN. Elleandra realizes as she thinks of what to do, that she's tired. The stress of that letter had worn her down in ways she hadn't expected. The relief of having someone she trusts in charge of it has opened the gates to that exhaustion. "My apologies," she says rather abruptly. She rises then and says, "But composing a letter to someone you love is something I haven't done in a while, and I'm so worried about Kamaria that I can't quite think properly.." Elleandra blushes as it dawns on her that she's said that all in the middle of one of the most crowded pubs in the city. "I had best be going," she says faintly, her cheeks bursting pink as she rushes out.
"Peace on your Nest, Elleandra." Cryosanthia calls after her, missing as she's out the door before the words are.
The white-scale looks around the table, "This one also might go abed soon. Merek, do make sure her letter makes it. Humorous mis-deliveries are all well and good in the romantic plays, but a lot worse in real life. And, I think the bed calls now actually. Thank you all for your company and audience, Peace on your nests."
She stands, slipping out of her seat, hugging Braelnoir from behind then edging past Merek, who gets a pat on the shoulders, and Edinaz who gets a wave of sorts.
"You be well, I will ward up the letter and use my magic to keep it secure," Merek says, waving to Elle, then a nod a bit for Cryosanthia as well as Braelnoir, as well as Edinaz.
Braelnoir closes her eyes and curls her tail around Cryo as she gently sets her hands on the arms around her, "Sleep well, luv." and lets the sith go as she would, "Yer a pro, Mer, nice thing yer doin' fer her."
Edinaz waves towards Cryosanthia, smiling affably. "Good night." He nods towards Braelnoir, watching that tail curl askance. He takes another slug of whiskey.
The sith-makar walks into the back, her tail and legs moving sinuously as she glides a path around the tables. At the door is a turn and a salute to everyone, then she's out of sight. Presumably to sleep in the room reserved for the staff that work late.
Merek salutes, then he's standing up while he nods a bit, "What about you guys?" he asks.
Braelnoir finally gets about to asking for a, "Pint o'that dark beer if ya got't, landlord?" of the bartender, then leans against the bar and regards the fellas with a slightly canted head, "Anythin' else goin on, lately? I been kinda focused on makin' up fer lost practice."
Edinaz looks up, "I could use some more whiskey." He shakes his head. "Getting ready for a big job, mostly."
Merek looks between the two, "Not a lot, still thinking about a few plans to visit that Plane of Water."
"Oh?" Brae asks with some light in her eyes, but she doesn't ask for details as, y'know, it could get awkward, though she is obviously curious. Mereks answer prompts another question, "Any traction on that, luv?"
Edinaz's eyebrows go up as well. "So many elemental planes you've been speaking of!"
"It's going well enough, I am waiting for my new potions to be prepared for it," Merek mentions, with a nod to Brae as well, then a nod to Edinaz, "I can plane travel, so it's an interesting place to research."
Braelnoir hrm's, "Will probably have t'get wet some more." she replies dubiously, not looking forward to that. There's some swimming to learn.
Edinaz pauses for a moment, and sips his whiskey this time. "That sounds fascinating -- all the things to see." He looks at Brae'. "Does that bother you... now?"
Merek nods between the two, "Well, it might be that there's more when we actually visit," he says.
Braelnoir frowns a little, shrugging, "I'm not.... great in th'water... an' breathing water under a spell is... wierd." She considers her hands, "Might be a little better now, but th'hooves are still a little bit of a problem." Hmmmm's, "Unless there's some kinda swimming boot out there. It'll take some huntin' I guess."
Edinaz considers all of this, and nods. "Huh." Then he slams his whiskey. "Good night." Brain overload.
"I need to get sleep," Merek says, waving to Edinaz, then to Brae. "I have faith!"
Dramatis Personae
Edinaz
He is thick-limbed and clearly possessed of oruch blood -- his skin is grey, his brows are heavy, his teeth are sharp, and he stands close to seven feet tall. However, his human blood also shows through the set of his nose - though it's been broken more than once and his hazel eyes. No matter what his ancestry, he has broad shoulders and a powerful neck. His movements are precise, and despite his size he rarely puts a foot wrong.
He usually wears a worn breastplate over leather breeches, knicked greaves and heavy-soled boots. His bare arms are covered in intricate tattoos of Orcish origin, with symbols of Kor prominent on both shoulders. He carries two swords scabbarded at his waist; in the field, he carries a backpack and a bundle of javelins under a thick cloak.
Elleadnra
The first ingredient of Elleandra that most notice is her hair, the long wavy locks left to fly free. At its roots, it is a pale blue-gray, like the ocean at dusk. After a few inches, the strands swiftly grow more pale, until they are silver, and then, past her shoulders they darken, their hue eventually settling on a pale aquamarine. Even this shade doesn't last long, growing lighter and returning to silver by the time it passes her waist, finally ending mid-thigh.
A dash of emerald colors her eyes, accentuated by high cheekbones with just a touch of a pale rose to color them. Her lips are somewhat pale, shaded like peach zest and they curl into a natural smile. Her ears, delicate and long, draw to fine points. Those familiar with her kind will easily identify her as Sildanyari.
Elleandra stands an unimposing 5'4" tall. Her waist is slender and her limbs lithe, lightly toned with muscle. Her petal-soft skin is alabaster with more than a touch of amber, hinting at a developing tan. She bears a pale, fluted scar on the back of her left hand and her hands are calloused from many days of toil. Most days, she bears the scent of the wood folded in with a variety of spices.
She wears a diaphonous, silvery dress, the fabric so thin as to be like a fine mist. Under this she wears a snow white tunic. It is clasped over each shoulder with a silver crescent moon. The fabric dips deeply behind her back, leaving much of her skin in view there, and showing a drizzle of pale freckles about her shoulder blades. The hem of the tunic comes just above the knee, leaving a fair expanse of her lean leg in view. On her feet she wears small leather boots that don't cover her ankles.
Braelnoir
Another day in the big city.
A curious figure, this, possessed of facial features fitting an Acanian woman of perhaps twenty years with fine, even features and stern eyebrows over wolflike amber eyes. Raven hair, knife shorn to a toussled shag, fluffs out from her scalp to drape down and obscure most of her shoulderblades. Her torso largely carries to a human shape, with slightly broader shoulders, suggesting perhaps an additional Aesir heritage, though her arms are more muscular, and her legs crook into a hooved deerlike format a little past her calves. From the base of her spine, a long, slender tail extends four and a half feet before capping with a spaded tip. A multitude of miniscule silver scales turns her skin into a somewhat clouded mirror. Her voice is a smokey tennor, accented to the particulars of Stormgarde. The only 'jewelry' upon her person is a copper earring in her left ear, from which dangles a small brass skeleton, and an ornate gold ring around one of the digits of her left hand.
In light of recent regrettable developments, hanging from her neck by a leather thong is a small placcard with the words, 'I am not a monster' over the stamp of the City Watch.
A fine, nearly black, breastplate, tempered to an almost iridescent blue violet, is cross strapped at her back over a newer, boiled black leather corselet that leaves her left shoulder bare. A finely scaled capelet of burnished steel protects her right shoulder, some of the scales tempered to a straw color and arrayed to form a curious symbol. Her legs are clad in loose trousers of what could have been sailcloth, dyed black in a way that left various whorls and ripples of smoke grey. Overknee greaves of black leather are strapped around her altered legs. Her right hand is clad nearly to the elbow in a blued, spike-laden gauntlet, while the left is protected by a half-fingered leather affair with an hourglassed demi gauntlet over that, stamped with the symbol of Kor.
Her other accoutrements are manifold and equally diverse. A Khazadi bandolier containing Gods-know-what crosses her torso right-to-left to leave the pouches lining the inward curve of her waist without impeding her sword arm. An Aesir warhammer rides double frogs on her right hip, while a short sword rests in a sheath on her left. For all this, grimly ornate war scythe she carries is easily the weapon that's seen the most wear and care.