With Fiends Like These...

It is another fair day, where spring is in the air and yet falling water is not. Taking advantage of the weather, or merely grateful for it, Verna is outside of her residence. While she is reading, she is not seated on the portico nor casually browsing. Instead, she is moving slowly about the exterior and examining sigils upon it, looking to the tome hovering at hand for reference, and making corrections or touch ups as she deems necessary.

Nothing is remiss. The wind is light. The temperature fair. The tumbling of rocks...-

The tumbling of rocks? Over the edge of the Mountain Road, there comes the sound of someone huffing, and a few rocks shifting. A grey, scarred hand reaches up to the ledge. Grab. Another. Grab.

A mul'neissa woman's face pops up, silver framed shades slightly askew on her sweaty face. She blinks. Then waves to Verna, giving a little whistle to announce her presence.

Another trip down down the mountain road, and another pleasant day, for the most part. Schara, back in her bronze armor as was often the case, they were taking their time heading down the path. That is until they saw a mul'niessa climbing up and over the the edge of the mountain, which hastened their pace until they were nearby.

"Could you please explain what you are doing here, and quickly?" The artificer asks, looking at them, and back over to where Verna was working.

Verna is unaware of hands nor shaded eyes nor even Schara's approach... until the whistle and questions. Both startle her somewhat, and she steps promptly around the house, leaving the tome to hover as she to investigates. "Schara. Aryia." Both are recognized and the sounds parsed in that context. "Schara, all is well. Aryia is a friend, if not more." To Aryia, she adds, "I expect no offense was intended. Matters are rather tense at present, in light of prior unexpected visitors."

The mul'neissa pauses in pulling themselves up, her staring at Schara. She huffs out of her nose and clambers on up and steps past Schara, pointedly ignoring the question. Only to be stymied by Verna's approach. The shadow elf doffs her jacket, her airing it out by whipping it beside her. Face and bare arms covered in sweat.

Though, Verna's mention makes her brows shoot up, and she tilts her head to the side. She rolls a hand, as if requesting further elaboration.

The attempt to step past was blocked by the artificer stepping back in front of her. "If you will not explain yourself or what you are doing here, then I must ask you to leave, or I will have to make you do so by force." The artificer answers, lacking any manner of confidence to follow up on their warning. It was easy enough for Verna's explanation to make the elf sigh and step off to the side. "The last mul'niessa who was being so forceful threw Verna's wife off a cliff."

Verna exhales a long breath through a frown, dipping her head in a nod as she moves nearer the two. "Yes. All are well and fine," she notes for Aryia's benefit, "but we are understandibly wary. In hindsight, he may only have worn the guise of a mul'niessa, as it revealed itself to be an insectoid demon." She pauses to lift a hand to the residence. "Thus I am adding additional wards. As well, I expect that it is in league with my mother."

The mul is blocked by Schara. Her head tilts up to stare at them, eyes behind the shades shining bright. She throws her jacket over she shoulder, taut and muscular arms flexing from the motion. "By force? I'd /love/ to see you fucking try," she gestures vulgarly. Even if her motions weren't understood, the gist was easily picked up on.

But the light, fun challenge is dashed at that information. Her expression shifts to a deadly focus. "Mul'neissa man? Insectoid demon? They were HERE?! Details now!" she gestures rapidly, ripping out a journal from her jacket and opening it to a blank page. <Handspeech/Tongues>

The artificer had already backed down and away, and Schara just sighs. "I would rather not try if I do not have to, just for the enjoyment of someone else, but I would. It is not like I am not already dead to begin with at this point."

The change in demeanor makes the artificer pause again, and the artificer stops and tilts her head. "Why should I trust you with that information?" They ask.

Verna blinks. Twice. First at Aryia's piqued interest. Her frown deepens. "Dolan appeared familiar with this fiend, as well. I presume that this is not the first time it has made its presence known?" The second is at the armored one. "Schara, you are most certainly not in The Harpist's Hall now, nor would I expect you to be in the forseeable future. Is something amiss?" She looks between the two, suddenly aware that she may be lacking a great deal of information.

Aryia blinks at the bronze clad figure. "Sounds like you've given up before you've even tried. The fact that you have the courage to be not trust Seldan and call him in out the in middle of his own church is the only reason why I haven't bashed your mouthpiece in."

She smooths her hair back, and tunrs to Verna. She blinks, then snaps her fingers. "Hey hey hey. Fucking focus here. That piece of shit demon has my sister's partner, and has been torturing him for fuck knows how long. If it was HERE that means you two have information that is CRITCIAL. Talk." <Handspeech/Tongues>

Schara shakes her head once, and takes a step back. "It's only a matter of time at this point, what with the fact one of them nearly killed me barely trying." The artificer huffs. "If I pay them I fund whatever atrocities they plan, if I don't, they tear off my legs or kill me. Given recent experiences, I don't believe that is giving up without trying. And thank you for not smashing my head in for wanting to know what was necessary not to get countless other people killed?" They continue, before another sigh as they collect themself. "Some devil calling themselves Daechir Calithailin showed up here and was trying to force Verna into marrying them. When she refused, they entered her home and tried to kill Auranar."

Yes, there are obviously a number of things of which Verna is unaware of. She blinks again, looking between them, yet nods at Schara's description of events. "The fiend addressed me with a name I do not use, and claimed the desired union was agreed by both houses. This all but guarantees that my mother is involved; she is rather intent on my returning to Charn, which I shall not do. It threated Aura to coerce me, then sought to make good on its threats. Yet this fiend is obviously involved and interested in far more than just myself from what you say. Dolan was also familiar with the fiend in some manner."

She then looks to Schara. "Who seeks funds from you? The same fiend? Do you know why? If these events are indeed inter-related, any information is valuable to us all."

Aryia blinks at Schara. "You attempted to fight it and lived? Shit. Alright, I can give you some credit there." But her features sharpen. "That is not Daechir. He has been missing for some weeks now."

She listens to Verna, scribbling some notes down as a grey air flicks and twitches. "Which is weird as shit, because Daechir- the real one- is my sister's partner. So it sounds as if your mother may be involved in our shit too. Dolan..." she ponders. "Ah. The guy missing an eye. He knows more? Listen-" <Handspeech/Tongues>

She looks to Schara, stares at them HARD. Then hands over the journal she's been writing in.

Written in a flowing script, it reads: 'Say no names aloud. Write down what may be critical: names, places. If you don't want countless others killed, myself and others are doing what needs to be done.'

The mute holds out a pen and journal, her lips pressed into a firm, thin line.

"Yes, I owe them funds. Or rather, I owe them funds because they purchased my debts from someone else." The artificer answers. They stare at the book for some time, until finally they take it and scribble down some information into it. A process that took some time in spite of the speed before they finally hand it back.

Dolan, the man missing an eye recognized the creature that was looking like Daechir and referred to them as Jal'goroth. The form they took was seen by me before, it is either the same fiend or another using the same appearance knowing they can do so. On the twenty-seventh day of Pryntar myself and others were investigating a criminal who had become active suddenly who had the same appearance and referred to themselves as Mortin, but they were also using false names at the time to throw off others. The entire investigation was already alerted to them, or planned by them, and they likely were giving us false information to begin with which doesn't change the fact they transformed a gnome named Jiddess into a mouse and did something with them. All of this took place in an abandoned building by the docks, underneath it.

"She came to Auranar's defense," Verna notes for Aryia whilst yet looking to Schara, "for which I am most grateful." She then nods to Aryia's question after she goes quiet and hands the book to Schara. A moment passes before Verna gets some inkling as to the intent, commenting, "Prudent..." She does not attempt to read over any shoulders as Schara writes, though does give Aryia a sympathetic look. If this man, the real one, is in the fiend's clutches, she can only imagine the strife for all involved.

Aryia sighs in relief that the bronze-clad figure writes down things for the mute. She takes the journal back. "If you came to Auranar's defense, then you're good in my book. Even if you're dense as fuck."

She glances down at the written words. Freezes. Then the journal slaps shut and is promptly shoved into a pocket on the jacket and buttoned closed. Donning the article and buckling it shut, she strides right up to Schara. And gestures briskly in small motions. "If anyone fucks with you, you find me. I owe you. Thank you."

The mute steps back towards the cliff face, her cracking her neck and rolling her shoulders. She Inhales deeply. Then breathes Out slowly. Glimmering lines of energy trace across her skin and vanish under clothes. She looks to Verna.

A recognizable expression. One of the scent of victory. "Later sister," she motions in goodbye before Aryia takes off in a blur, a cloud of dust left behind as she leaps fearlessly off the Mountain Road to Alexandria below. <Handspeech/Tongues>

"Of course I did. It was the right thing to do, but I couldn't do anything about it. I don't want anyone to be in a situation like that if I can help it. And I don't know what comparing density to that even means but, no." The artificer notes quietly while Aryia scans through all the information given.

But then Schara freezes up as Aryia departs. "No, nothing like that, I won't allow that. It will not ever happen." They continue to theirself, only to blink when they realize the monk was gone. "Oh. I guess she got what she needed then." They sigh.

Verna blinks yet again at Aryia's farewell; not that it is one, but both the verbiage and the manner. Hmm, perhaps moreso the verbiage. She lifts a hand to bid a return farewell, yet the mul'niessa has already lept. She exhales a soft breath of her own, now.

"From what she conveyed, Schara, it may well simply be a matter of urgency. She was obviously grateful for your efforts and information." She takes a moment to glance about, perhaps checking for other unexpected visitors. "I presume that you wished to speak with me?"

"Yes, she probably has to go somewhere else. It was just sudden and I don't particularly understand her." The artificer sighs. "I guess I did help, somehow."

They stand a bit akwardly nearby, before nodding once. "Yes, I wished to talk to you, but it ended up bein unnecessary, Verna. And I have to apologize because in spite of my efforts, there is a part of my thinking and me that is glad you were dealing with those fiends." They answer, letting their head hang. "I was looking for you because I felt it necessary to let you know how I could not be your friend due to various reasons and other lies, because I didn't want you being hurt by the things that seem intent on either exploiting my gold or harming me. And now I feel bad it isn't necessary, because I don't wish such troubles on you whatsoever, Verna."

Verna blinks at the revelation (for the umpteenth time this day). After a moment, her expression softens. "Conversation is rarely unecessary. Moreso, you need not apologize, especially for the actions of fiends. Their machinations can be far-reaching and their talents at manipulation are without equal. As well, your concern for myself, and others, was well-placed. Yet such should not drive any of us apart. We are, all of us, strongest when acting in accord. Our foes know this and would strive to mislead and divide us."

"I cannot, nor would not, fault you for excluding others for their own safety. I have done the same, Schara. Thus I learned such did not prove as beneficial as I intended. If the three of us had not shared, just now, as we did, we would have continued to carry and tend to our own concerns, unaware that they were related."

"I'm sorry still. Especially if them causing trouble for you is my fault." The artificer answers with another long shake of her head as she wanders over to the house nearby. Looking at least for somewhere she could sit down. "And that's all good, but those things are dangerous, and I really can't do much against them. So if I can't deal with them, that means that I'm either a liability or just useless. And now Aryia may do something dangerous and get hurt and that will be my fault. Even if it is related, I don't know what I can actually do about it."

Verna follows Schara's gaze and then follows her steps back towards the house, gesturing to the chairs on the portico. "Apologizes. Please, make yourself more comfortable." She considers the other's comments a moment. "Aryia faces that particular fiend for her own reasons. I expect that said creature has existed far longer than any of us. You are not responsible for its actions, regardless of what it seeks you for." She then looks to Schara, brow lifting. "Unless you specifically summoned the fiend, directed it to take the man Aryia mentioned was taken? Did you command it to come here, seeking marriage?"

A pause before she adds, "I expect that you did none of these. Therefor, you are not responsible. As to acting against it... yes, it is powerful. I was no more able to banish it that you were able to subdue it. That does not imply there is naught we can do."

Schara wanders over to one of the chairs, and sits down gently to make sure all the excess armor did not cause any problems. "No, they didn't do that because of me, but it's my fault if they hurt anyone I know because of connection to me." The elf sighs. "And I'm not you, I'm not Aryia or Aya or Seldan or so many people I know that seem connected to everything going on. And my friends aren't as strong either, at least not physically or in combat."

"I just asked Warrick to be my friend, and now he's at risk because of that potentially, Or Slixvah or Patch." She continues with a small shake of her head. "Cinny already lost her mother, what if her father died too, and it was my fault? Or Slixvah or Patch, or both of them? It just makes sense, I'd rather be alone by choice than because of my own fault, even if both are not great options."

Verna settles herself into the other chair, only now calling the hovering tome to her. Rather, to the table where it settles. "Schara, there will always be threats to others, to yourself, regardless. Would evil and unscrupulous foes seek to use those you care for as a tool to manipulate you? Certainly. Does isolating yourself make you immune? Certainly not. Do you believe that I do not worry for Auranar every moment? Powerful forces have hunted me, and currently do so, even before this latest fiend. I put her at risk merely by her proximity and relations to myself. I ventured, for a time, to see her protected at all times: to the point that I offended her, caused her to doubt her own abilities and competency. None of that was my intent. Still, I would not exchange all else that we share solely to be rid of worry for her."

She pauses and her lips curl into a slender smile. "Nor would she. Likewise, the same people you hold concerns for hold the same for you, I expect. I know that I do so. As well, it is not a matter of knowledge, skills, talents. Auranar considers my knowledge of magic far more extensive than her own, yet her insight, empathy, caring, and even direct action have rescued me far more often than any spell of mine has protected her."

Schara sits on Verna's words, listening, for some time. It was almost as if they had fallen asleep perhaps, but finally they turned and nodded once. "That makes sense I guess, and I don't know, of course you deserve to be happy too. But I just feel selfish, miss Verna. I've had to live for so many years relying on others, and when I finally get a chance to go out and live for myself, something like this ends up happening? I know that living isn't fair but that doesn't mean I have to be happy about that fact."

"You're right, though, there's more to this than just fighting, Verna, and there probably is something I can do, but I just hope it's enough."

Verna nods. "I would urge you to live for yourself, and I would presume that would involve including others. If one chooses their based upon concerns or fears, would that truly be living for one's self? I do not believe it is, and now strive, myself, to live as I wish rather than be so heavily restricted by other concerns."

"Well, I don't know. As much as I'd like that, I know that I would feel awful if my presence caused harm to others. The way you look at it does make sense, but It would take time for me to accept that myself." The artificer sighs. "It's a lot to think about, but at least I know that there are people I can still talk to. Thank you, and I've probably taken up enough of your time for two days. I should get going to make sure I can get back to my inn room before it's too late. I hope you and Auranar can have a good day, at least."

"If you were wholly unconcerned of others," Verna notes, "I would be concerned of you. You have my thanks, and your conversation and company are always welcome. I am pleased if my offerings gave you any insight. Ultimately, you are the one who decides what is best for yourself, of course." She then rises out of politenets as Schara seems intent to excuse herself. "May your travel and day be well."

"Of course it did, you're easy to talk to and your reasoning makes a lot of sense, and it helps to make sense of things with an outside viewpoint to provide another point of reference." The elf nods as they leave their seat and turn to the road. "I can at least hope it will be, it may not be, but at least there's some hope there, and it won't change things if it does go well." They muse, before bowing their head to the mourner, and starting off back towards Alexandria proper.