Tenebrae - User contributions [en]

Rainy days, hair loss and full bellies

2025-05-11T16:48:10Z

Petros: Created page with "<pre>Northern Gates, Alexandria, midday</pre> The weather is unpleasant, rain coming down in buckets from iron gray skies. In the fields just north of the gates, a set of pavilions and temporary stalls have been erected, as an airship slowly descends. Several citizens wait under awnings at the gates, as well as the city guard contingent. One half-elf, wrapped in a thick, heavy hooded cloak, is speaking to one of the guards. "Well, the damage to the airstation isn't as..."

<pre>Northern Gates, Alexandria, midday</pre>

The weather is unpleasant, rain coming down in buckets from iron gray skies. In the fields just north of the gates, a set of pavilions and temporary stalls have been erected, as an airship slowly descends. Several citizens wait under awnings at the gates, as well as the city guard contingent. One half-elf, wrapped in a thick, heavy hooded cloak, is speaking to one of the guards.

"Well, the damage to the airstation isn't as bad as it seemed," Telamon says to the guard sergeant. "They've got a couple wizards from the college, an artificer, and a whole pack of dockworkers getting it cleared up, but with the weather, it may take till tomorrow before the airstation can take any landings."

The sergeant mops some water off his freckled face. "At least we can bring the ships down in the meadow just outside the walls, so they can unload their cargo and passengers. Well, you know what they say, mortals plan..."

Telamon snorts and nods. "And Coyote laughs!"

As the airship lands, and the crew and hired hands begin to move the cargo, the passengers begin to disembark. Among them is a small form, completely covered in a leather poncho, complete with hood. They stand out as they carry a crate larger than they are, setting it down in a sheltered area marked for storage of such cargo.

It is only when the small form walks over to Telamon, and her little green face looks up at him, blinking at the rain spattering in her face. "So what happened here?", she wonders of the Archmage.

Give the town guard credit. They work to interview the passengers and get them out of the weather as quickly as possible. Stevedores from the airstation help unload cargo. The whole operation is actually pretty efficient -- if wet from the continuous rain and the soggy turf.

When Murder approaches the archmage, Telamon raises his hand in greeting before offering it to shake. "Good to see you again, Murder," he says. Tel wipes a spritz of rain off his face, before gesturing for her to follow him under the awnings. "The storm rolled in pretty fast. There was an airship on approach, and a wind-gust shoved it into one of the airstation buildings. No one's hurt, but they're working on clearing debris and repairing damage. In the meantime, they're just bringing the airships down here to unload, near the gates."

The Goblin sniffs at Telamon's hand a moment, before shaking it. She grins and nods in reply, "It is good to see a friendly face." She looks around a bit, "Hopefully no one was hurt? I can imagine an airship hitting something would do a lot of damage."

Murder follows in the sorcerer's wake. Once under the awning, she pulls down her hood, showing off her long, scraggly hair, with a fresh fuzz covering the burnt half her head. "So what'd they call you in for?", she wonders of Telamon.

"Dumb luck. I was meeting a Mythwood diplomat, and he was on the flight. Once I'd gotten him settled and on his way, I decided to come down and see how the temporary station was working." He pushes back his hood, his face and hair damp from the rain. "Normally I don't object to storms, but this is a little excessive."

He pauses and peers at Murder's hair. "Fire problems?" he inquires delicately. "Seen that a time or two."

"Ah, seems like a poor ending to what should be a nice flight. Hopefully he wasn't too shaken. The airships are quite safe, I have heard." Murder looks out at the storm, and back to Telamon. "Is it perhaps unusual? Maybe not normal? Or just mother nature being an ass?"

Her cheeks colour slightly, and she looks away. "It's an old wound. Got burned back when I was helping expunge the black plague slimes from the sewer. Fire seemed to do the trick, but due to some... idiot mage... it went out of control. I'd gotten permission from the city to do such, and it was supposed to be a controlled burn. The ... idiot ... did not wish to evacuate either. So the priests had a crispy body to deal with."

Telamon shakes his head. "Just the usual. You know how it is. Spring showers for summer blooms." He runs a finger down his cheek. "I suppose I could complain to the temples of Dana and Gilead -- if I wanted to get laughed at." Tel smirks slightly.

"In any case, no, he's fine. He's seen worse. Like a lot of us." Telamon looks at Murder sympathetically. "A lot of people carry scars from that time, it seems. I know Verna has mentioned battling it as well. But no, I was asking more about the hair, not the burns. Have you tried growing it back?"

"At least you haven't the hubris to attempt to change the weather yourself.", she says idly. "Unlike some wizards I could name but won't. Not enough of your kind stop to think... not IF they can do such a thing, but if they SHOULD or should not do a thing." The Goblin runs a hand subconsciously over the fuzzy part of her head.

"I keep shaving it, it gets to this fuzzy stage and then stops growing. Probably permanently damaged." Murder rolls her shoulder in a shrug, the leather poncho moving up and down. "I'm sort of used to it." Her cheeks remain slightly rose coloured. "Never thought to get it fixed. Seemed like a proper penance."

Telamon fishes around under his cloak, before producing a flask, which he offers to Murder. "Tea?" he inquires. "But yes. A question I get asked a -lot- is 'why do you teach an ethics class?'. And that's because I've -seen- what happens to magic unfettered, driven by hubris and good intentions."

"Honestly, I don't know if I'd ever want to try and toy with the weather. Too many moving parts. Oh, there's spells to tweak it in a -very- small area, relatively speaking. But those are self-contained effects." He sighs. "And so I keep teaching. Hoping my students get the message and I, or someone like me, won't have to hunt them down."

He places a hand on Murder's shoulder, commiseratingly. "Some penances can be hard to bear. I'm not sure I agree that it's necessary, but if you don't want to grow it out, I won't press the issue."

Her head tilts slightly at the offer of tea, and she reaches out a hand. "Is it hot? I could certainly use a hot drink, it's quite chilly up there as you must know." She nods. "You teach it because someone has to. That's something I like about you." A broad grin spreads across her face. "And what is that saying? Pride goeth before the fall? It must be especially hard for wizards, such dizzying heights to fall from. Sometimes quite literally."

Her expression becomes self-conscious once more. "I honestly didn't think it could be fixed. Never thought to ask. The skin's a little gnarly there also." Her face turns upwards once more, and gone is the usually gruff exterior, her voice small. "You can fix it?"

"It is." Indeed, the flask is warm, and the contents inside redolent of honey and herbs as Telamon passes it to Murder. "Indeed. It's one thing to be proud, or confident, but pride... can lead you down a bad path." He makes a face. "There's a number of people in the Arcanist's Dungeon who could testify to that."

At her hesitant, self-conscious look, Telamon nods. "Maybe. It's old, and damaged, but I've spent a lot of time studying alchemy and healing. I can't say it'll be instant, or easy, but... the best things in life rarely come easy. It's up to you."

She makes a pleased sound and wraps both of her small hands around the flask, before opening it up and then offering it to the Archmage. "Should let you have the first sip, yes?"

A breath is let out, and she nods. "Don't I know it. Blood, sweat and tears. Too much of all three. But uhm... how much?" She pats at her chest a moment, and a dull jingle is heard. "I'd have to go somewhere dry to get to my coins."

Telamon shrugs lightly, and takes the flask back before drinking a small measure from it. "Ahh. Just the sort of thing for a miserable day, if you don't have mulled wine." He passes the flask back to Murder's hands, before continuing.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves. I'd need to inspect your scalp, study the scarring there. This isn't going to be a 'magic' fix -- yes, I can do those, but I prefer to try simple solutions before exotic ones." His lips quirk up. "Besides, it'll give me something to research and a break from atrocious first-year essays on why you never mix the salts into the solution until the end."

Murder takes a lengthy sip before offering the flask back. "Thank you."

She lets out another breath. "I'm... willing to let you look at it without offering you harm." Her expression is an odd one, somewhere between puzzlement, curiosity and embarrassment. "I can shave it if you want to see the skin, or you can if that's what you need to do. The other half is undamaged, hence the long hair there.'

Telamon smiles. "You're welcome." He takes another sip from the flask, before his eyes move back to Murder. "Well, if we need to shave it, I can always help with getting the hair to grow back out again. We'll take a look at it -- hm. Where would you prefer to do this? I would presume you'd like some privacy -- I can arrange for a room at the temple of Eluna, or we could set something up at the Shining Chalice. Or perhaps you have something in mind?"

Her cheeks take on a dark, mottled colour, and she looks down at the ground. About where her feet would be, were it not for the leather poncho in the way. "Uh, well, my camp is a bit of an inconvenient distance away. Uhm. Perhaps the Chalice? I assume they have uhm private offices and such?"

Telamon nods serenely. "It can be arranged. We've done so before, for sorcerer auguries and the like. And there are a couple Chalice members who aren't as..." He pauses, then smiles slightly, "...flamboyant as I am. They like their privacy. So we'll meet at the Chalice then."

He reaches out to offer Murder a hand. "In the meantime, let's go find something to eat and drink. This dreadful weather can't endure forever, and it's better to wait it out by a warm fire, with a full belly." His eyes twinkle. "That's been my experience, anyways."

"Privacy is good sometimes.", she says softly, before she reaches for that flask again, and takes another sip of tea. "Pick your place. I'll buy. They just have to have something hot to drink, and hot to eat. A fire sounds nice too." There's a slight nod of agreement.

"Mine also. A full belly and a warm fire fixes a lot of ills."

Recent Logs

2025-05-11T16:46:29Z

Petros: /* May */

{{AboutLogs}}

'''[[Archived_Logs|For 2024 and earlier, see the Archives]].'''

==2025 Logs==
===January===
{{TableMain}}
{{T02}}
|Date
|Log
|People
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|January 1, 2025
|[[The Spectacle of the Century]]
|[[Aelwyn]], [[Alec]], [[Bryn]], [[Mikilos]] [[Murder]], [[Skyler]]
|-
|January 4, 2025
|[[A Final Word on the Spires]]
|[[Aelwyn]], [[Rune]], [[Harkashan]], [[Ravenstongue]], [[Eztli]], [[Skyler]], [[Bryn]], GM: Whirlpool
|-
|January 5, 2025
|[[Hooves of Steel (Part 2)]]
|[[Harshad]], [[Skyler]], [[Bryn]], [[Reithak]], [[Jarik]]
|-
|January 6, 2025
|[[Working Hands]]
|[[Auranar]], [[Carver]], [[Simony]], [[Skyler]], [[Telamon]], [[Verna]], GM: Riptide
|-
|January 7, 2025
|[[Same as It Ever Was (Part 11)]]
|[[Aryia]], [[Harkashan]], [[Rune]], [[Simony]], [[Telamon]], [[Zeke]], GM: Riptide
|-
|January 8, 2025
|[[Flight of Intrigue]]
|[[Bryn]], [[Haggerty]], [[Palomas]], [[Skyler]], GM: [[Telamon]]
|-
|January 9, 2025
|[[Scaling and Weeping]]
|[[Verna]], [[Aryia]]
|-
|
|[[Temple Festivities]]
|[[Carver]], [[Telamon]], [[Irshya]], [[Jarik]], [[Menel]], [[Ravenstongue]], [[Skyler]], [[Bryn]]
|-
|January 10, 2025
|[[Sins of the Past: A Confrontation]]
|[[Jarik]], [[Skyler]]
|-
|January 11, 2025
|[[Slapbet]]
|[[Aragos]], [[Rocky]], [[Skyler]]
|-
|January 12, 2025
|[[Sewers and Saviors]]
|[[Dirk]], [[Crik]], [[Jarik]], [[Bryn]], [[Ulthan]], [[Sjach]], with GM: [[Skyler]]
|-
|January 13, 2025
|[[Graven Images]]
|[[Carver]], [[Telamon]], [[Ravenstongue]], [[Verna]], [[Skyler]], GM: [[Aftershock]]
|-
|January 14, 2025
|[[Same as It Ever Was (Part 12)]]
|[[Aryia]], [[Harkashan]], [[Rune]], [[Simony]], [[Telamon]], [[Zeke]], GM: Riptide
|-
|January 15, 2025
|[[Tough Hands]]
|[[Warrick]], [[Bryn]]
|-
|January 17, 2025
|[[The Power of Flour]]
|[[Harshad]], [[Skyler]], [[Choler]], [[Munch]]
|-
|January 18, 2025
|[[Grim Deed (Part 1)]]
|[[Culix]], [[Carver]], [[Jarik]], [[Skyler]], GM: [[Aelwyn]]
|-
|
|[[Back in Technicolor]]
|[[Corey]], [[Magpie]]; GM: Aftershock
|-
|January 19, 2025
|[[Sewers and Saviors 2]]
|[[Sjach]], [[Haggerty]], [[Crik]], [[Dirk]], [[Jarik]], [[Bryn]], GM: [[Skyler]]
|-
|
|[[Vacation and the Pen]]
|[[Simony]], [[Telamon]]
|-
|January 20, 2025
|[[Meeting Eli]]
|[[Bryn]], [[Carver]], [[Gramarye]], [[Haggerty]], [[Khepri]]; GM: Aftershock
|-
|
|[[Pothy Problems]]
|[[Murder]], [[Skyler]]
|-
|January 21, 2025
|[[Same as It Ever Was (Part 13)]]
|[[Aryia]], [[Harkashan]], [[Rune]], [[Simony]], [[Telamon]], [[Zeke]], GM: Riptide
|-
|January 23, 2025
|[[The Dream Quest of the Archmage Part 1]]
|[[Skyler]], [[Warrick]], [[Palomas]], [[Haggerty]], GM: [[Telamon]]
|-
|January 26, 2025
|[[Sewers and Saviors Part 3]]
|[[Sjach]], [[Dirk]], [[Bryn]], [[Jarik]], [[Crik]], GM: [[Skyler]]
|-
|January 27, 2025
|[[Golden Box]]
|[[Cuemoni]], [[Gr'lk'tosst]], [[Halia]], [[Jarik]], [[Skyler]]
|-
|January 28, 2025
|[[Same as It Ever Was (Part 14)]]
|[[Aryia]], [[Harkashan]], [[Rune]], [[Simony]], [[Telamon]], [[Zeke]], GM: Riptide
|-
|January 30, 2025
|[[The Dream Quest of the Archmage Part 2]]
|[[Skyler]], [[Warrick]], [[Palomas]], [[Haggerty]], GM: [[Telamon]]
|-
|
|[[A Polite Request]]
|[[Harkashan]], [[Rune]]
|-
|January 31, 2025
|[[Here But For You]]
|[[Halia]], [[Skyler]], [[Rocky]], [[Tonameyo]], [[Carver]]
|}

===February===
{{TableMain}}
{{T02}}
|Date
|Log
|People
|-
|February 1, 2025
|[[Grim Deeds 2]]
|[[Culix]], [[Skyler]], [[Carver]], [[Jarik]], [[Reithak]], GM: [[Aelwyn]]
|-
|February 2, 2025
|[[Beyond the Pale 1]]
|[[Ulthan]], [[Bryn]], [[Haggerty]], [[Skyler]], [[Crik]], [[Burai]], GM: [[Thurid]]
|-
|February 3, 2025
|[[The Quest of Eli]]
|[[Bryn]], [[Carver]], [[Gramarye]], [[Haggerty]], [[Khepri]], GM: Aftershock
|-
|February 4, 2025
|[[Same as It Ever Was (Part 15)]]
|[[Aryia]], [[Harkashan]], [[Rune]], [[Simony]], [[Telamon]], [[Zeke]], GM: Riptide
|-
|February 6, 2025
|[[A Handful of Dust]]
|[[Auranar]], [[Carver]], [[Corey]], [[Simony]], GM: [[Telamon]]
|-
|February 8, 2025
|[[Grim Deed Part 3]]
|[[Culix]], [[Skyler]], [[Carver]], [[Jarik]], [[Reithak]], GM: [[Aelwyn]]
|-
|February 9, 2025
|[[Beyond the Pale Part 2]]
|[[Bryn]], [[Burai]], [[Crik]], [[Skyler]], [[Ulthan]], GM: [[Thurid]]
|-
|February 11, 2025
|[[Same as It Ever Was (Part 16)]]
|[[Aryia]], [[Harkashan]], [[Rune]], [[Simony]], [[Telamon]], [[Zeke]], GM: Riptide
|-
|February 14, 2025
|[[Mages of Daeus]]
|[[Telamon]], [[Skyler]], [[Eztli]], [[Carver]], GM: Aftershock
|-
|February 16, 2025
|[[Beyond the Pale Part 3]]
|[[Ulthan]], [[Bryn]], [[Haggerty]], [[Skyler]], [[Crik]], [[Burai]], GM: [[Thurid]]
|-
|February 20, 2025
|[[Moonstone Absconded]]
|[[Dirk]], [[Carver]], [[Corey]], [[Magpie]]
|-
|February 21, 2025
|[[Pursuit Through Dreams]]
|[[Skyler]], [[Carver]], [[Simony]], [[Telamon]], NPC: Amenara Paki (played by Aftershock)
|-
|February 22, 2025
|[[Grim Deed Part 4]]
|[[Culix]], [[Skyler]], [[Carver]], [[Jarik]], [[Reithak]], GM: [[Aelwyn]]
|-
|
|[[A Gift Lost to the Shadows]]
|[[Kaj]], [[Murder]], [[Telamon]], [[Carver]]
|-
|February 23, 2025
|[[Conspiracy to Murder]]
|[[Auranar]], [[Telamon]], [[Verna]], GM: Riptide
|-
|
|[[Beyond the Pale Part 4]]
|[[Ulthan]], [[Bryn]], [[Haggerty]], [[Skyler]], [[Crik]], [[Burai]], GM: [[Thurid]]
|-
|February 24, 2025
|[[Of Tests and Trials]]
|[[Carver]], [[Haggerty]], [[Khepri]], GM: Riptide & Aftershock
|-
|February 25, 2025
|[[Same as It Ever Was (Part 17)]]
|[[Aryia]], [[Harkashan]], [[Rune]], [[Simony]], [[Telamon]], [[Zeke]], GM: Riptide
|-
|}

===March===
{{TableMain}}
{{T02}}
|Date
|Log
|People
|-
|March 2, 2025
|[[Beyond the Pale Part 5]]
|[[Ulthan]], [[Haggerty]], [[Skyler]], [[Crik]], [[Burai]], GM: [[Thurid]]
|-
|March 3, 2025
|[[Moonstone Absconded (Part 2)]]
|[[Carver]], [[Corey]], [[Dirk]], [[Magpie]]; GM: Aftershock
|-
|March 4, 2025
|[[Same as It Ever Was (Part 18)]]
|[[Aryia]], [[Harkashan]], [[Rune]], [[Simony]], [[Telamon]], [[Zeke]], GM: Riptide
|-
|March 7, 2025
|[[Crystal Tower]]
|[[Carver]], [[Magpie]], [[Ravenstongue]], [[Telamon]], [[Verna]], GM: Aftershock
|-
|March 8, 2025
|[[Grim Deed Part 5]]
|[[Carver]], [[Culix]], [[Reithak]], [[Skyler]], GM: Aelwyn
|-
|March 9, 2025
|[[Sins of the Past: Masquerade Mayhem]]
|[[Aelwyn]], [[Auranar]], [[Irshya]], [[Ravenstongue]], [[Telamon]] DM: [[Jarik]] & [[Skyler]]
|-
|
|[[Crystal Tower (Part 2)]]
|[[Carver]], [[Magpie]], [[Ravenstongue]], [[Telamon]], [[Verna]], GM: Aftershock
|-
|March 10, 2025
|[[Moonstone Absconded (Part 3)]]
|[[Carver]], [[Corey]], [[Dirk]], [[Magpie]]; GM: Aftershock
|-
|
|[[Cashew by Cashew]]
|[[Ravenstongue]], [[Skyler]], [[Telamon]]
|-
|March 11, 2025
|[[Same as It Ever Was (Part 19)]]
|[[Aryia]], [[Harkashan]], [[Rune]], [[Simony]], [[Telamon]], [[Zeke]], GM: Riptide
|-
|March 13, 2025
|[[Dance of the Watchlings]]
|[[Telamon]], [[Carver]], [[Skyler]], [[Simony]]
|-
|March 15, 2025
|[[Grim Deed Part 6]]
|[[Carver]], [[Culix]], [[Reithak]], [[Skyler]], GM: Aelwyn
|-
|March 16, 2025
|[[Beyond the Pale Part 6]]
|[[Ulthan]], [[Haggerty]], [[Skyler]], [[Crik]], [[Burai]], GM: [[Thurid]]
|-
|March 18, 2025
|[[Same as It Ever Was (Part 20)]]
|[[Aryia]], [[Harkashan]], [[Rune]], [[Simony]], [[Telamon]], [[Zeke]], GM: Riptide
|-
|March 19, 2025
|[[The Sickle's Edge]]
|[[Choler]], [[Harshad]]
|-
|March 20, 2025
|[[Fluffy the Fey]]
|[[Aragos]], [[Bryn]], [[Gramarye]], [[Haggerty]], [[Skyler]] GM: [[Telamon]]
|-
|March 21, 2025
|[[A Lost Fey Puppy]]
|[[Carver]], [[Telamon]]
|-
|March 23, 2025
|[[Of Staves and Stones]]
|[[Simony]], [[Telamon]]
|-
|
|[[Crystal Tower (Part 3)]]
|[[Carver]], [[Magpie]], [[Ravenstongue]], [[Telamon]], [[Verna]], GM: Aftershock
|-
|
|[[Beyond the Pale Part 7]]
|[[Ulthan]], [[Haggerty]], [[Skyler]], [[Crik]], [[Bryn]], GM: [[Thurid]]
|-
|March 24, 2025
|[[Archmage Asking]]
|[[Carver]], [[Telamon]], [[Murder]], Riptide (as Faphinae), GM: Aftershock
|-
|March 25, 2025
|[[Same as It Ever Was (Part 21)]]
|[[Aryia]], [[Harkashan]], [[Rune]], [[Simony]], [[Telamon]], [[Zeke]], GM: Riptide
|-
|March 29, 2025
|[[Grim Deed Part 7]]
|[[Carver]], [[Culix]], [[Reithak]], [[Skyler]], GM: Aelwyn
|-
|March 30, 2025
|[[Beyond the Pale Part 8]]
|[[Ulthan]], [[Haggerty]], [[Skyler]], [[Crik]], [[Burai]], [[Bryn]], GM: [[Thurid]]
|-
|March 31, 2025
|[[Red Matrimony]]
|[[Corey]], [[Karasu]], [[Telamon]]
|-
|}

===April===
{{TableMain}}
{{T02}}
|Date
|Log
|People
|-
|April 1, 2025
|[[Same as It Ever Was (Part 22)]]
|[[Aryia]], [[Harkashan]], [[Rune]], [[Simony]], [[Telamon]], [[Zeke]], GM: Riptide
|-
|April 3, 2025
|[[Inspector Fritzgilbert and the Ploughing Goat]]
|[[Skyler]], [[Zigrun]]
|-
|April 4, 2025
|[[The Golden Songbird]]
|[[Ravenstongue]], [[Skyler]], [[Telamon]], GM: Aftershock
|-
|April 6, 2025
|[[Beyond the Pale Part 9]]
|[[Ulthan]], [[Haggerty]], [[Skyler]], [[Crik]], [[Burai]], GM: [[Thurid]]
|-
|April 8, 2025
|[[Same as It Ever Was (Part 23)]]
|[[Aryia]], [[Harkashan]], [[Rune]], [[Simony]], [[Telamon]], [[Zeke]], GM: Riptide
|-
|April 9, 2025
|[[With Vast Love (Part 1)]]
|[[Cuemoni]], [[Haggerty]], [[Harshad]], [[Skyler]]; GM: [[Carver]]
|-
|April 11, 2025
|[[Four Floozies]]
|[[Khepri]], [[Carver]], [[Bryn]], [[Rocky]]
|-
|April 13, 2025
|[[Beyond the Pale Part 10]]
|[[Ulthan]], [[Skyler]], [[Crik]], [[Bryn]], GM: [[Thurid]]
|-
|
|[[Nary for Nereid]]
|[[Aragos]], [[Carver]], [[Mikilos]], [[Skyler]], [[Telamon]] GM: Riptide
|-
|April 14, 2025
|[[Running Up That Hill]]
|[[Aragos]] GM: Riptide
|-
|
|[[Bring a Little Fae]]
|[[Atrid]], [[Carver]], [[Gramarye]], [[Khepri]]; GM: Aftershock
|-
|April 15, 2025
|[[A Grove Pit Stop]]
|[[Slixvah]] [[Atrid]]
|-
|
|[[Homegrown Confessional]]
|[[Warrick]], [[Carver]]
|-
|April 19, 2025
|[[Neva Gonna Give You Up]]
|[[Aelwyn]], [[Carver]], [[Eztli]] GM: Whirlpool
|-
|
|[[Grim Deed Part 8]]
|[[Culix]], [[Skyler]], [[Reithak]], [[Carver]], GM: [[Aelwyn]]
|-
|April 20, 2025
|[[The Dukes Knight]]
|[[Aelwyn]], [[Auranar]], [[Dirk]], [[Rhar]], [[Thurid]] GM: Riptide
|-
|April 22, 2025
|[[Same as It Ever Was (Part 24)]]
|[[Aryia]], [[Harkashan]], [[Rune]], [[Simony]], [[Telamon]], [[Zeke]], GM: Riptide
|-
|April 23, 2025
|[[With Vast Love (Part 2)]]
|[[Cuemoni]], [[Harshad]], [[Skyler]]; GM: [[Carver]]
|-
|April 27, 2025
|[[Faeology 101]]
|[[Carver]], [[Ravenstongue]], [[Telamon]]
|-
|April 29, 2025
|[[Same as It Ever Was (Part 25)]]
|[[Aryia]], [[Rune]], [[Simony]], [[Telamon]], [[Zeke]], GM: Riptide
|-
|}

===May===
{{TableMain}}
{{T02}}
|Date
|Log
|People
|-
|May 1, 2025
|[[Strawberries For All]]
|[[Corey]], [[Karasu]], [[Khepri]], [[Carver]], [[Simony]]
|-
|May 2, 2025
|[[Bootleg Bounty]]
|[[Warrick]], [[Bryn]], [[Haggerty]], [[Aragos]], [[Crik]] GM: [[Thurid]]
|-
|May 4, 2025
|[[Cleiuin's Confession]]
|[[Thurid]], [[Riptide]]
|-
|May 6, 2025
|[[Same as It Ever Was (Part 26)]]
|[[Aryia]], [[Harkashan]], [[Rune]], [[Simony]], [[Telamon]], [[Zeke]], GM: Riptide
|-
|May 9, 2025
|[[Bootleg Bounty Part 2]]
|[[Warrick]], [[Haggerty]], [[Aragos]], [[Crik]] GM: [[Thurid]]
|-
|May 10, 2025
|[[Rainy days, hair loss and full bellies]]
|[[Murder]], [[Telamon]]
|-
|}

[[Category:Logs]]

Vacation and the Pen

2025-01-21T22:04:56Z

Petros: Created page with "Lupecyll-Atlon home, midday Outside, the weather is bitterly cold and laced with the ever present snow. At least the animated dolls are no longer an issue in Alexandria, what with their creator now... neutralized. But inside the fire is stoked, and a small orange dragon with butterfly wings sprawls across the top of the sofa, dozing in the pleasant warmth. Jyndei only opens one eye briefly to watch Telamon, as the half-elf hums to himself, setting up a couple things on..."

Lupecyll-Atlon home, midday

Outside, the weather is bitterly cold and laced with the ever present snow. At least the animated dolls are no longer an issue in Alexandria, what with their creator now... neutralized.

But inside the fire is stoked, and a small orange dragon with butterfly wings sprawls across the top of the sofa, dozing in the pleasant warmth. Jyndei only opens one eye briefly to watch Telamon, as the half-elf hums to himself, setting up a couple things on the stove for later. A large pot set to simmer, as Tel brings a platter of fresh bread and smoked fish over to the table before sitting down. With Lana out doing script rewrites for some hapless playwright in the theater district, he's physically at least on his own -- save for his faerie dragon companion.

"Lunch is on, Jyndei. Or are you going to laze around on the couch some more?" His eyes twinkle as he regards his friend.

The Goblin is unbothered by the cold of late, trusting in her spells to keep her comfortable. She walks along in the air, just above the snow, slush and mud present on the city streets. Her destination is the Lupecyll-Atlon abode, where she pulls on the door bell, and then makes her way inside.

"Tel? Cor'lana?", she calls out as she makes her way towards the living room.

There's only a few people who are allowed unrestricted entry into the Lupecyll-Atlon home. Rumors run wild about what happens to uninvited guests, ranging from being carried off by the Watch in pieces to disappearing and never being seen again.

Telamon has heard all the rumors. After all, he planted them. It cuts down on annoying visitors.

So when the bell rings and the door opens, his head comes up. Then he hears Simony's voice, and Telamon's eyebrows settle and his expression warms. "Kitchen, Simony! And make sure you shut the door!" He grins at Jyndei. "Better get your share now, Jyn."

The little faerie dragon leaps off the sofa with alacrity, gliding over to the table to snatch up some smoked fish and begins gnawing on it.

The door is heard to slam shut, and the Goblin is in the kitchen quickly, gliding in on a current of air and dropping to the ground daintily. No thought nor pity given to uninvited guests, for she has read the runes and protections upon the dwelling. She knows what awaits them.

Simony's little nose works at the air. "Oh, fresh bread and smoked fish!" A little giggle is let out as Jyndei scarfs down another piece of smoked fish, as if someone /else/ were about to wolf it all down. "Hello Jyndei! You need not worry, Tanith is not here. Just me."

She steps over to hug at the Lord Sorcerer. "Hello Tel! How have you been?"

Telamon is dressed down for a change, a simple woolen tunic and trousers over improbable fuzzy bear slippers. An apron is wrapped around his waist, with 'Kiss the Cook!' embroidered on it. "As well as can be expected. Actually not bad at all -- I'm just enjoying a break from plots, plans, and disasters." He hugs Simony back, before ushering her to a chair.

An unseen servant floats over with a teapot and three mugs, pouring tea for everyone as Telamon takes his seat. "Lana's doing of her script-surgery today. I think she's regretting this one though. Her comments to me have been fairly barbed -- something about 'derivative', 'hackneyed', all the wonderful things you -don't- want said about your play."

He begins serving, as he continues, "I hope all is well with you in turn."

She resists being herded into a chair only very briefly, but settles in quickly as the tea is poured. The Goblin eyes the slipper and apron, chortling lightly. "You don't have to worry about plans if you don't make any!", she quips with another little laugh. She sips at the tea daintily, nodding Tel's way.

"Hmm, I suppose it depends on the intent of the playwright. One could write something intentionally derivative and hackneyed, as a form of humour. But I am getting the feeling the playwright is writing these things unironically. It must be absolute torture, which makes me wonder why Cor'lana's gone to assist. Are they a family member?"

A snort is had, followed by another sip of tea. "My thanks for the tea!" Simony smiles brightly then. "I am doing well. I've been asked to paint another fresco, this one for the Monastery! Aside from that, I have been doing some ... interesting translation work."

Telamon hehs. "No. They just offer money. Which may not seem like a great thing, but Lana and I do have expenses -- albeit modest ones -- while living here. Besides, I think she appreciates being able to learn from others' mistakes instead of making the same errors herself."

"That's excellent news about the fresco. I've always appreciated the work you put in on the ceiling fresco here. There is something to be said for art." He tilts his head with interest. "Translation work, eh? Anything you need help with? Oh, that reminds me -- we unraveled that mess with the animated dolls, and oh -boy-..." Telamon lifts his gaze to the ceiling. "It was a hell of a mess."

Simony looks shocked only briefly, before nodding. "I suppose anything that brings in a little bit of money, that falls within one's skillset, isn't a bad thing. And I suppose learning from mistakes without having to make them yourself is a healthy way to go about it."

Her expression grows pensive momentarily. "Is there something you need help with, Telamon? To lighten your load?" Her head tilts lightly and she shakes her head. "The translation work is going smoothly. While I am comfortably conversant in the three languages, the Monastery possesses a brilliant collection of sermons written down by one of our past High Temperances. Which were dutifully translated into several different languages. I am using the documents to assist with translation. The documents are from the same timeframe as the book I am translating, so the idiosyncrasies of the time are perfectly aligned. But, if you are interested in seeing the work, please come and visit me at the Monastery. I'd be happy to let you browse through it. It's a rather ancient tome."

Telamon shakes his head, and smiles at Simony. "My burdens are not too much to bear, Simony. But rest assured if I do need help, you're one of the first people I'd go to." He tears off a piece of bread, chewing on it meditatively. "No, this is just... we're laying down some plans but we have to wait till things are ready. So it's what soldiers call 'hurry up and wait'."

"And so I keep myself busy. Deal with problems of a more immediate nature. Study both books and people, to keep myself grounded. I may take you up on examining that tome, though. It's always interesting to walk back through a past era and their peculiarities."

Jyndei has finished his fish, and pipes up in his squeaky voice, "Although, my lord, you might consider that the deeds you do today may be read about a century or more hence. Something to consider."

Telamon gives Jyndei a wry look. "It hasn't escaped my mind, no. A humbling prospect for the son of a diplomat."

She smiles brightly at what Jyndei suggests. "If it is merely a century, or perhaps two, then it may be Telamon himself reading about his past exploits, hmm?" Her grin deepens. "Perhaps to my descendants, even? As a bedtime story or two."

Simony looks back to the Half-Sil. "Burdens are often not too much to bear until they are beyond bearing. Please lean on your friends, hmm?" A gurgle is heard and she can resist no longer, tearing into a chunk of bread and wolfing it down quickly.

"From what I can tell, the tome is at least five hundred years old. And in my judgement, it is a book of heresies. A collection of heresies, from the many different temples. It appears as if someone was attempting to destabilize all of the light-aligned and neutral temples at the same time."

The Goblin pauses to push the pince-nez to the top of her nose. "I read ahead briefly. It fell apart after being exposed, and a concerted effort was made to bring down the author. But it appears that it was pretty effective, and the temples had to work hard for a time afterwards. This is the only known copy, and there is some tension still, agitating for its destruction."

Telamon grins slightly. "I stand corrected. And I always lean on my friends. Who else can I unburden my heart to, if nothing else? I will note that between Lana, Pothy, and Jyndei, I am well protected against isolation. But I won't forget you."

He deftly cuts off a slice of smoked fish, eating it with relish. "Hmm. Could be from any of the dark gods, though that strikes me as a Taarite scheme, or even Deimosian. It does not surprise me that the priesthood might be... tense about such a thing. Some heterodox notions are generally harmless -- Rose-and-Sun doctrine, for example. But I take it this is much more serious."

"You are well protected. I know what the others can do, and I say, I will remove mountains to see you protected, Telamon." She flexes a skinny arm, the barest hint of strength visible.

Simony nods then. "It is a subtle corruption, and written in such a way as to be an instruction manual to bring down a temple and its congregation. As if it were a paint-by-numbers way to copy a masterpiece."

"I can understand the wish to see it destroyed then. This isn't just knowledge, albeit dangerous or even forbidden. It's... fouling, like polluting a river with alchemical byproducts. Poison for the mind." Telamon taps his chin. "So I guess the next question is, why keep it around? Is the author still alive? Yes, I know, five hundred years -- but even liches have been known to write books."

"It's a warning. Those who cannot remember the past are doomed to repeat it. As long as it exists, we can read it, understand it, and be able to confront it when we see it elsewhere." Simony rubs at her chin. "As far as I know, the author was slain. And those who sought to spread his teachings were slain, or put to the winds, chased away, spread far and wide." She shrugs lightly. "Knowledge is neutral, like a hammer, or sword. The mind that wields it, that is the danger, the threat. A danger that is ever present. All you can do is be watchful."

Telamon taps his fingertips together, watching Simony over them. "I'm not sure it qualifies. You don't need to contract the plague to know it's bad for you, after all. Something like this might be better off burned."

He picks up his tea. "However, there's another point to consider. Once you've decided one book should be burned, how many others might suffer the same fate? Such a decision should not be made lightly, if at all. The Royal Library in Mythwood has a copy of Two Hundred Years of Night -- a grim read if there ever was one. And it's restricted with good reason."

Her head cants to one side, her expression one of consideration. "True, you don't need to contract the plague to know it's bad for you. But you don't just burn all the bodies without investigation. You need to see what it is doing. You need to compare that to what is written down. If the plague is doing something novel, something new, and you don't have anything to compare it to..."

Simony gestures with her hands. "It's easier if you have the playbook in hand, yes? Besides, not just anyone can go in and read this book. It is protected. Both by obscurity, and by a heavy vault, and armed guards. We treat it with the same respect as our most holy of relics, and safeguard it the same way."

<OOC> Simony says, "Apparently so!"

Telamon hmms. "Fair enough. Though I won't deny it would still make me uneasy." He offers Simony a smile. "Still, thankfully it's not something I need to keep track of. I have enough to deal with."

Jyndei speaks up again from his perch. "Perhaps Simony speaks rightly. The best equipped to contain such a thing are those who recognize it for what it is, and would be the most threatened by it."

"Just so, Jyndei. One does not send a plague victim to a carpenter, to torture the metaphor further. One sends them to a doctor, or a priest of healing. Always pick the right tool -- and the right person -- for a job."

The Goblin nods, "I wasn't intending for you to be burdened with it, I simply thought you might like to look it over, as a curiosity, an old book filled with potentially scary knowledge. You have, certainly, looked at things that could be described in the same way, yes?"

Simony runs a hand through her hair. "It is a conundrum sometimes, isn't it? What to do with things that for one reason or another, can't be destroyed, but honestly... should be?"

Telamon grins. "I wasn't expecting to be burdened. Just musing on the difficulties in handling such a thing. Although books... can be much less of a problem than other things. Prisoners, artifacts, locations. All quite a handful to contain, and the impulse to simply destroy them would be very strong."

Tel taps his fingers on the table. "I had contemplated trying to contain Koz'gon, you know. Within Leca'fi Amdamu. And if it was solely me at risk I might've tried it. But I had guests -- Auranar, Corey, and Magpie -- and it forced my hand." He offers a sunny smile. "Well, it worked out for the best, wouldn't you say?"

"Yes, the book is completely non-sentient, and non-magical, and it stays where it is put. So there is little difficulty keeping it safe, it doesn't need someone hovering over it all the time." She gives a little giggle. "Imagine a book trying to sneak out of the library, yes?"

Her expression grows cold at the mention of Koz'gon, and she struggles to suppress her anger. She masks the battle with another sip of tea, and enjoyment of some of the smoked fish. "It did work out for the best in the end.", she says guardedly. "But that creature was far more dangerous than one person can handle."

Telamon snorts. "Don't be too sure. I was once involved in an incident in the library here where the books became animated and were both trying to escape and attacking people. Some idiots tried to use one of the restricted tomes and caused it." He chuckles. "I'll tell you the tale in detail if you like."

Then he tilts his head. "Ah, but I am not just any 'one person', am I? I am an archmage, the lord of Leca'fi Amdamu, blessed of Ni'essa Sky-Singer. I try not to put on too many airs, but I would say that my concern was not for myself but for my guests. For in truth I would have wielded the Castle itself as a weapon if need be."

"I would love to hear that tale, indeed." Simony took another sip of tea, and reached out for the pot to pour another. "Would you like more tea?", she asked of Telamon, wiggling the pot a little.

"No, you're not just any one person. But, to be fair, that was not just any old fiend. He was well practiced at getting inside people's heads, both literally and figuratively. I mean, he perverted a servant of Navos, which is no mean feat. Imagine one of your invisible servants suddenly attempting to strangle the life out of you. It is startling, at the very least. I would worry for you, Telamon, even if you are Lord Sorcerer."

"By all means," Telamon smiles, sliding his cup towards Simony so she can refill it. "It was an early adventure I had, when I had just come to Alexandria. So forgive me if I have to think about it a bit before relating the tale."

He inclines his head at Simony's concerns. "Although strangling me is... not the most effective attack these days, it would be a problem if he had subverted the servitors in the castle." He shrugs. "Ah well, the question is moot now. I have a couple people I need to talk to, about the final disposition -- I think you should come along when the meeting occurs. You might find it interesting."

"Aww, one of your first adventures?" She leans forward, both her elbows on the table. "I'm all ears!" Said ears wiggle in anticipation.

Simony nods in reply to his suggestion. "I would be interested in attending. Would this concern disposing of his ashes? I would be happy to help there, I know a number of spells which would make his ashes ... safe. As well as numerous prayers and rites to ensure nothing ill comes from his ... disposal."

After a moment, she blinks, and refills Telamon's cup.

"It would, yes. I had consulted with Zeke originally, but then when I made some inquiries I was... contacted by other elements with a vested interest in disposing of the fiend." Telamon's expression is quizzical. "I guess part and parcel of being lord of Leca'fi Amdamu is rubbing shoulders with a higher quality of visitor."

"And so I will host these visitors at a future date, and decide on the final disposition. I expect the conversation will be... interesting." He lays a finger alongside his nose. "I don't want to spoil the surprise, but I will state -none- of them hail from Ea."

She sips at her fresh cup of tea, and ohs? "Interesting. This simply reinforces what I said. He was no ordinary fiend." Simony settles back, mug in hand, and an expression of deep thought. "I do trust that you are vetting these visitors beforehand? There has to be some reason for their interest in his ... remains. People with a vendetta? People hoping to collect rare alchemical or biological reagents? People hoping to have a sliver of his power?" A light sip of tea.

"I am not surprised in such far flung interest. I am curious as to why."

Telamon nods. "Which is why I will have a number of friends and cohorts here, hopefully. To attempt to strike at me in my place of power, with friends close at hand? Idiocy. But yes, I will let them state their case, and if it is insufficient I will politely turn them down." He shrugs. "I don't expect trouble though."

"As you say, it could simply be 'make sure he's dead'. Others wishing to collect a portion for experiments. I did state I wanted his remains obliterated so it could not stain our world even in passing."

The Goblin sighs and nods. "I will be there." She taps at her cheek with a fingerclaw, and takes another sip. "I could do some math, if you liked, to figure out what it would take to send his remains into our local star. It should surely be enough to eradicate what is left, and cleanse the taint. It is the very definition of 'enough fire' to deal with any situation."

Simony offers a nervous grin, which broadens into a fully fledged one. "What of the watchlings? Any news?" The Goblin leans forward again, looking excited. "I can't wait to see how they've grown." Her little fingers tap a beat on the tabletop. "And maybe they'll share some of the knowledge they've gleaned. Hopefully they've grown enough that I can share some useful knowledge in return!"

Telamon nods slowly. "I dreamed of being deep underwater -- not a new experience, but surprising. My ancestor was there, Feadril -- he tells me they will be leaving the ocean soon, moving onto land to begin their own adventures. We will meet them at an appropriate time. From there... I think a few may linger in Alexandros, but most will spread out across the continent. To help others."

He grins at Simony's solution. "The problem is getting it up there, beyond the grasp of Aeryth. Go ahead and do the math. It may be this meeting will solve the issue, but it never hurts to have a backup plan."

"Oh, I shall commence with the mathematics. But my backup plan is pretty basic. If there seems to be an issue in resolving this, I shall call upon Navos' judgement, and He will decide. I shall work a miracle if need be. The hammer of hammers, so to speak."

Her eyebrows rise up. "You've had word of them? Any word as to how many have survived their journey? Gah, so frustrating sometimes, waiting."

Telamon shakes his head. "He didn't say, but his mood seemed... upbeat? I grant that all he can offer is instruction, as he's what the Harpist's faithful call a 'shade' -- essentially a spirit, not undead, but having business that prevents them from moving on to the Halls. Still, even a shade can be a potent ally."

Telamon muses, "I wonder what will happen after this. I hope he'll be able to finally move on. In any case, yes, we'll need to meet with our many-limbed friends and soon. Hopefully the weather will improve for the meeting!"

"I wonder if they'll remember us, Tel. Probably you, certainly you have been imprinted into their minds by the Watcher. I can't wait!"

The Goblin lets out a little sigh. "I feel for your ancestor, Telamon. It must be achingly frustrating, even if he has a sense of purpose. He should be in the afterlife, earning his just rewards, for good or ill."

"Whatever the price, I think it was worth it for him. And maybe with this, he'll be done with the world and can move on. We'll just have to wait and see." Telamon reaches over to pat Simony's hand. "While I wouldn't mind being remembered, what matters more is doing the right thing. Sometimes the only one who knows is you, but that's enough."

Tel sits back, looking into his tea. "I like to think I've done a lot more good things than bad. I know I've tried to leave the world a better place than I found it." He looks up suddenly with a smile. "I think I succeeded, but that doesn't mean I can sit around and rest on my laurels."

"Don't you worry, Tel." She snatches at his hand as he pats hers, and she gives it a gentle squeeze. "I shall ensure that you are remembered. And the others. I am working on a book. Mostly of illustrations and sketches, but there's also some biography written in. Everyone will know the good you've done, and Lana's, and Aryia, and so on. If you've done something that matters, no matter how small, it should be remembered."

Simony sits back and chuckles. "It should though. You deserve a break. To rest. You've earned it! It's not like you wouldn't step in if needed. But, well... there are other heroes and they should take up the slack occasionally."

Telamon raises his eyebrows. "A book! Hopefully nothing like those dreadful Crimson Pen novels." He grins as he says it, though. "But it'll be interesting to see when it's done. Let me know if you need anything in regards to it."

"I agree. I've said as much to Lana. We need a season of rest, where we can catch our breath. I want to know that I can take Lana and we can just... go off for a week or two on vacation, and not have to worry that Alexandria is burning down or something. It's nice to be needed, but... as I've commented to you, we all need time to recover."

Her cheeks flush a beet red in moments, and she raises up her hands to cover them. "Telamon! I ... I would never draw anything like that which is described in a Crimson Pen novel!" The flush reaches her forehead and neck fairly quickly. She seems to shrink in embarrassment.

"You should just go, Tel. On vacation. Inform a few select others so that they can be aware. I think those of us who remain will be able to keep the place together. At least... together enough that a wish couldn't mend what needed mending."

Telamon can't help but snicker at Simony's expression. "I'm teasing you, Simony. I know you wouldn't. But my offer to help does stand." He grins, taking another sip of his tea.

At her suggestion, though, he pauses, looking sober. Then he nods. "You have a point. It's... easy to put things off, and that includes vacations. I once advised Verna and Aura to go ahead and get married -- the only reason Lana and I delayed ours was the Hethian invasion and half the guests wouldn't have been able to attend." He ponders. "Let me talk to Lana, see where she stands on business. But if there's nothing else to tend to... we'll go to Grandfather's. He'll be delighted, and it's not like you or someone else couldn't get to us there."

"Still, such a suggestion is really embarrassing. I could scarcely write down such a thing, let alone draw it." One can almost see the steam rising up from her ears. She takes a big gulp of tea and then nods.

"You do deserve some rest, free of worry. At least, free from as much worry as possible. Erm, do the servants at your castle on the edge of waking have a means to contact you? I do know how to planeshift, and I've already gotten myself out there before. I figure it's a discreet means to let you know. I uhhh don't like the thought of dropping into a fae realm, unannounced."

Telamon hmms. "That... is actually a good question. I'm not sure. I might have to experiment a bit. However, if all else fails I know Grandfather would hardly turn his nose up at you if it was important. He likes you, after all."

A pause. "Although I'd be cautious about keeping that approval too close to your heart. He also likes those Crimson Pen novels too. He once took a part time job at a book-seller just so he could get the worker's discount on the gods-benighted things..."

"Well, your servants also know me, and know that I do not mean the Castle, its denizens or you any harm. I have a hammer that, by a quirk of all that exists, works as well on fae as it does demons. It might take me some quick explaining if I just appeared, and that would likely cause a fanfare. One of your humble servants, something the fae know all about, requesting to speak with you is far, far more demure."

Simony's cheeks flush anew. "He... he enjoys those.. things?" She murmurs and huffs. "Maybe I could bring a few new ones with me, if I had to arrive there unannounced. It would at least mollify him." She blinks. "Wait, he likes me? I mean, really? Not that I expected him to hate me, but I'm not his family nor fae or anything. As far as he knows, I'm just a Goblin..."

Telamon smiles. "Honestly, I think Grandfather likes anyone who isn't trying to cause him or his family grief. Then the gloves tend to come off. Plus, you're -my- friend, and so there's an extension of hospitality there." He shrugs. "Let me work the problem a bit. No point in planning for something that might just be moot."

He snorts. "Yeah, I'm... not sure why he likes those things either. I mean, I read all of the Doctor Barnabus Bizarre series when I was younger, but that's hardly in the same league. Although they were definitely not high literature."

"I guess... I mean, I'm not exactly offensive, and I do love you and your family." The blush returns once again. "But I am sure it would turn out alright. If I could talk to you in your head like you and Lana can do, that would be the perfect solution. I could wish you good morning every day and tell you that everything is running smoothly. But I uhm I am not aware of clerical spells that are capable of that."

The Goblin hmms, looking away as she touches the tips of her index fingers together. "I uhm... I have read a few of the Crimson Pen novels. P.purely for research, mind. I uhm I have an idea of why he might enjoy those things."

Telamon shakes his head. "The telepathic link doesn't cross planar boundaries. It's actually... a little unpleasant, at least for us, if one of us takes an unexpected jaunt. Even when we know one is going somewhere, it... leaves an absence that we feel till we're back together, or at least on the same plane."

"Besides, telepathic bonds are -not- for anyone who isn't -absolutely- comfortable with the other person being in their head. Lana and I had a long relationship well before we established the bond, so it was less of a problem for us. But it is definitely a level of intimacy above and beyond what you might consider proper."

"Oh. That must make things really difficult, I had no idea." The Goblin takes another sip, and pouts a little as the mug is empty. "May I have another?"

She rubs at her cheek a little and nods. "Well, that would be a bit of a shock. I guess we would unintentionally find out things that we keep guarded. But I think I would be okay with you knowing those things, even if I wouldn't just blurt them out, you know? A bridge that can be crossed later if we ever need to, right?"

Simony lets out a long breath. "I don't think you'd be surprised to find out how strongly I feel for you. I mean, you have saved my life. Not to mention the lives of many others. I look up to you. Hah, literally."

"I know. And I know you'd do the same for me, Simony." Telamon lifts the teapot, pouring another mug for her. "I've never regretted anything I did for my friends. Not now, not ever."

"That's the problem. It's impossible to keep -anything- from each other -- well, we can try to hide things but the other one can tell immediately. Kind of a shame -- I can't play whist with Lana any more." He grins. "Still, it has its upsides. A comforting presence, like being in bed and feeling the warmth next to you, but it's in your head and never really goes away."

"But chin up, Simony. This isn't a problem to be solved in an afternoon. Have some more tea and bread, and why don't I tell you about the day the books decided to try and escape the library..."

And so life goes on in the Lupecyll-Atlon home.

Recent Logs

2025-01-21T21:59:28Z

Petros: /* January */

2024-01-10T18:10:20Z

Petros: /* January */

Magic and Archmages

2024-01-02T16:48:44Z

Petros: Created page with "At the bar of the Fernwood Pub sits a man with somewhat short black hair that seems something in need of a trim. He wears a suit of blue-black armor that glints in the semi-darkness of the pub, a huge blade of similar color strapped to his back. There's a half-empty tankard of beer in front of him and his purple eyes are set upon it with determination. His vestments mark him as a paladin of Vardama, a set of dull bronze scales on a field of black. The rest of the pub is..."

At the bar of the Fernwood Pub sits a man with somewhat short black hair that seems something in need of a trim. He wears a suit of blue-black armor that glints in the semi-darkness of the pub, a huge blade of similar color strapped to his back. There's a half-empty tankard of beer in front of him and his purple eyes are set upon it with determination. His vestments mark him as a paladin of Vardama, a set of dull bronze scales on a field of black.

The rest of the pub is unusually quiet.

She had been led to the Fernwood Pub by her new little friend, a little goblin like figure who at first she thought was someone's pet until it spoke. She had only recently arrived from her long journey southward from Stormgarde, a journey whose destination was not determined, and had found her in Alexandria and waking up from a much needed nap in her newly acquired lodgings.

Coming down the stairs to the common area, the Aesir woman looks somewhat disheveled and seemingly does not care. Her long blond hair flowing freely about her shoulders and noticeably untamed. Her hand grips the railing as she slowly descends the stairs, taking her free hand to rub her eyes a bit in an attempt to wipe away what grogginess remained.

She sought something to eat and her steps took her to the bar of the Fernwood, sliding onto one of the chairs somewhat close to where Aragos had situated himself. Her elbows rested upon the bartop as both hands went to the side of her face, peering over at the man and giving him a nod of her head, but no words just yet.

Mikilos exits from the Kitchen, tucking something away back in to his bag, speaking over his shoulder to the waitress following after. "Just keep the fire down and it should last until can get a proper replacement. The burners should run fine, so doubt will be any real problems. Yeah, don't worry about it." Exiting to the proper side or the counter, the overly tall elf takes a seat, nodding absently to those already present. "Now, could I get a mug of mulled wine, please? Thank you."

The Goblin yawns noisily, descending the stairs sleepily. She followed along a few steps behind the Aesir, looking more disheveled than the taller woman. She struggled up onto one of the stools between Kadlin and Aragos, seemingly oblivious to the presence of both.

"Kafe.", Murder grumbled to the barkeep, dropping a golden coin onto the bartop. "An' whatever th'lady beside me wants for breakfast. I want bacon. Jus' bacon. Onna plate. Hot. Crispy."

The bartender nods to the newly arrived, and those present already, moving to attend to drink and food orders accordingly."

The man at the bar takes note as he's joined. It's clear by the fact that he briefly locks eyes with the woman sitting down before scrubbing his hand over his face. He doesn't offer a greeting to her any more than she offers him one. Similarly, he ignores the addition of both the elf, and the goblin who settle into place. He does however silently order yet another drink from the waitress who brings him one without comment. He has his half-tankard empty by that time and he accepts the new one eagerly enough.

A glance is given as the goblin she knows hops up on the seat beside her, a nod given and a half smile. "Kafe and bacon? I guess that is a good a start as any." She shrugs and catches the server. "I'll have the same, well add some eggs and some bread if you would." She reaches into a small pouch on her side and puts some coins on the counter as well. "See much a nicer place than the place we met Murder. I was able to rest without feeling like I needed my hand axe across my chest."

Her eyes then slide to the tall elf as he exits. She had seen an elf before, tho it had been quite sometime and she could count the number of times on one hand. He gets a glance that could be considered a tad bit long, nothing threatening, just curious as she takes in his features and height. She was realizing that this city was full of new things she had seldom seen. Perhaps caught in her glance she waves a hand in a greeting gesture.

Eyes then back to the bar, looking to the side of the goblin to where Aragos sits, choosing to venture a word. "Is it worth the coin?" Her head nod gestures to the empty tankard.

Mikilos leans upon the bar to see better, peering down the way. "Hello miss Murder. Rough night, I take it?" he inquires with a grin. Aragos gets a silent nod of greeting, and Kadlin he nods hello as well. "Good day miss. I don't believe we've been properly introduced."

Murder eyes the dark-haired man drinking, blinking a few times owlishly. "Long day, or long night ahead? And stuck doing duty ... outside?", she wonders of the man.

The Goblin grins at Kadlin, and nods. "I like it at a breakfast. Crunchy and savory, and the coffee is a good wake-you-up. An' yeah, this place is pretty comfortable. Very affordable unless ye start ordering expensive drinks or foods. But if you stick to basic needs, you can live here pretty cheaply. And much safer, if you ever need a good night's sleep, this place'll do. It's not always a given though."

Murder points out a few places around the room. "It's been hit before during some of the action over the past years, burned a bit, had an angry mob pass by and so on. But it persists and carries on, it's got a life of its own, an' people love it."

She eyes Mikilos and giggles, "Miss Murder? Haha, nooo, just Murder will do. And no, not a rough night, just waking up from a food nap." She blinks, eyes Kadlin a moment, then Mikilos and Aragos. "This is Kadlin, er... Ah, Bjornsdottir!, Kadlin, this is Mikilos and uhm, I don't think I've gotten your name, sir uhm..." The Goblin gestures to Aragos.

The man glances toward Kadlin and shrugs. "Depends on the effect you're after." His voice is low rolling noise. "If you're looking for it to taste good, I don't suggest it. If you're looking for it to get you drunk, I also don't suggest it. It's cheap though, and it'll get you to drunk eventually if you drink like you mean it."

It seems he means it, he's already halfway through this tankard.

The paladin gives Mikilos a short snort and shakes his head. "We've not been introduced either, but I recognize you from your height and your... dress." A small smirk. "You're Mikilos right? Self-proclaimed Archmage."

He drinks a bit more and lets out a harsh half-amused noise at Murder. "Yea, and I'll be glad if you don't steal it out from under me too. Murder is it?" He shakes his head. "I'm not nearly drunk enough yet."

"I don't need much. Not one for luxury." She looks about. "It will do. As long as it is dry and a place to lay my head." She reaches for the kafe as it is placed in front of her and takes a small sip, careful to taste the heat. Her eyes drift to the two men as Murder introduces her, feeling as if she should at least make an effort to greet them herself.

She looks over to Mikilos first, doing her best to give him a half smile in greeting. "Mikilos was it? Kadlin, as my little friend here has already mentioned. Forgive my previous staring. It has been quite sometime that I have seen someone...well such as yourself. I believe I was a child." Truth be told, that could not have been too long ago for the 19 year old Aesir.

Her gaze shifts to Aragos and she studies him a moment longer considering his words a moment before speaking once more. "Why not get something that tastes better and will get you drunk faster, in the end it may cost the same?" She shrugs and manages the slightest of grins and takes another sip of her kafe. assuming Murder's inquiry of hi name will be answered.

Mikilos grins to Aragos. "Mikilostravia Abrioudelanarchie Mithralla, Lord of Estranillia, magus of the ninth circle. But yes, 'Archmage' is fine." To Kadlin he arches a brow in curiosity? "Someone such as me? An elf? A wizard? A master of sorcerous power? A morning person?" The elf glances around conspiratorially and leans in to stage whisper "The secret is to not go to bed in the first place."

Murder squints at Aragos, blinking a few times. "What do you mean, don't steal it out from under you? The night or your name?" she nods then, "Yes, I named myself. A fantastic name, if I do say so myself!" She definitely does.

The Goblin makes a happy noise as drinks and food arrives, with half-filled glasses refilled or replaced. Several strips of bacon are quickly inhaled, as if someone were about to take them away. The kafe in her cup is quickly gulped down, her expression saying too hot, too hot, but she downs it anyways.

"Her question is a good one, why not... oh, you wish to merely be tipsy, perhaps feeling a bit warmer, if you have to be outside? Else it would be better, tasting and on the purse, to have a stronger drink and less of it. For the same effect, but faster."

Her eyes flick to Mikilos, then to Kadlin, and back to Mikilos. "An Elf. The spot she's from is pretty much all Aesir, with a few exceptions. If you're out in the boondocks there, then you've heard more stories about other races than you've seen. And that's a terrible idea. People need to sleep."

The paladin of Vardama seems mildly amused by Kadlin. "I wasn't going to get drunk today, just was going to take the edge off, but I'm starting to change my mind." He downs the rest of his drink and lifts an eyebrow at Mikilos's long-winded name and title. "Awfully fancy name you've got there."

Purple eyes narrow at the tall elf. "So is it true what they say about you? You know, the bit about you summoning a balor and then walking away while it destroyed the low lands?" It seems as though, even though they're strangers that the paladin might have heard some interesting gossip about the 'Lord of Estrnillia'.

"It is nice to meet you Mika-stava Abri-do-archie Mithamalla, Lord of Eternila something of a circle somewhere." She is not being condescending, she really did try to repeat it. "Archmage it is." She takes an audle breath and exhales. "Magic. Wonderful." This time her words are aaid in a manner which would come across as truly not feeling good about the fact. "Forgive me. It just seems so unnatural to me. It's not...well natural." She pauses a moment then adds. "Kadlin Bjornsdottir. Lady of nothing. And I have stood inside a circle a few times

She takes another sip of her coffee and looks over to Aragos now. "You know what they say about drinking your problems away...they are just there tomorrow so you can drink again." She watches him a moment longer venturing the same question Murder had just asked and did not recieve a reply too. "It is an awfully fancy name he has there. Speaking of names, do you have one?" She looks over his dress and simply adds. "Or shall I refer to you as Lord Drinks-alot. Ruler of Have-another, sworn enemy to sobriety." She raises a brow and tries to hide a smile."

She looks over to the eating Murder and cannot help but smile. "I have no idea where you put it. Seriously, you may no be half bacon at this point."

Mikilos smiles mildly to Murder. "-Humans- need to sleep. And goblins... gnomes, lutch, khazad, Arvek Nar.... pretty much everyone but elves and sith and wizards who make use of magical power to sustain themselves." The wizard frowns a moment. "And war golems, I think? Maybe monks who have mastered that sort of thing? Anyway, not quite everyone needs sleep. Rest, yes, but not strictly sleep."

He frowns mildly at Aragos question, but shrugs. "In short, no. In slightly less short, I tried to bind a balor who was already running loose, but under estimated his power. Yes, that likely made matters worse while I tried to find a solution. Others ended Eclavdran before I found a way to do so."

To Kadlin he smiles. "Mikilos. And I understand, Lady Bjornsdottir of Nothing, but I disagree. Magic is the foundation upon which Nature itself is built. It's wholely natural... well, unto itself. Are certainly unnatural applications."

Murder rolls her eyes back momentarily. "At least the Archmage has a name." She sticks her tongue out at the dark-haired man, and then glances at Mikilos. "They're not going to let you live that down, Mikilos. I can';t say I blame them, but you would think past good deeds would weight into that, somehow." The Gobbo shrugs her shoulders. "Such is life, I suppose."

She giggles at Kadlin, and reaches up to pat her shoulder. "You will find numerous people here with fancy titles, long names or have a thing or two to boast about. Though uhm..." Murder cants her head slightly. "You don't approve of magic?" Her expression speaks of disappointment. Snorting, she continues to pack away the delicious crispy meat. "It just ... fits. There's always room in my stomach!"

The Goblin grins beatifically, and crosses her arms. "That's right, I said /people/ need to sleep." She giggles mischievously.

The paladin shakes his head slowly. "Hard to forget the death of so many innocent lives." His voice is stern and unforgiving. "It's not my place to forgive such sins, that is for the divine to decide. I'm not judging; I've got blood on my hands too. At least I acknowledge the price others have paid for my failures."

"And I have a name." Purple eyes flicker from Murder to Kadlin. "You can call me Aragos. One name is more than enough for me; I find that titles are rather useless things really. However amusing they might be."

This last is a nod to Kadlin, and he waves the waitress over for a stronger drink this time. The better for the drinking. "I'd say you were right, about the drinking. It solves nothing. Even so, it helps with the sleeping thing. Which some of us need to do."

She tries to accept Mikilos' words. She really does. The truth is she has not seen a lot of magic and what she has seen has not exactly left a good memory within her head. "I suppose it is natural. It's just not normal." She raises a hand to brush a strand of hair back away from her face that had fallen before her eyes. "For instance. You see me coming towards you and see an axe, you know the threat. She is going to swing that axe and it is goig to hurt if it hits me. People with magic, you walk towards me, I see nothing. The next thing I know you are saying words like /fire-us kill-us/ and I find myself aflame." She reaches for his kafe again. "It is not tha I do not trust magic users as people..." She pauses a beat. "Okay I don't."

She looks then over to Murder, noticing the expression. "Oh you know magic too?" Seems everyone she was meeting had some magical ability. "It will just take some time I suppose. Some getting used to." She pats the goblin on the shoulder and laughs lightly. "That may be the most magical thing about you Murder. The never filling stomach."

Aragos is given a nod as his name is repeated. "Aragos. I'll remember that. Titles are often used to command respect. Respect should be earned, but I will never disrespect my Jarl or my King." Her plate had arrived and she picks at the eggs before taking a small bite. "There are days then when I awake, I lay there and think: I cannot wait until nightfall again so that I may sleep once more."

Mikilos snorts at Murder, but grins. "Fair enough."

To Aragos he shrugs. "I acknowledge my failure and move on. Life is too short to dwell on things gone wrong."

To Kadlin he nods as well. "I think I understand. Though I'm curious your thoughts on Artifice?"

Murder shrugs at Aragos, "He, like you, has also saved lives. Something one should also take into account. And well met, Aragos." She nods a little. "Aye, it can help with sleep also."

She grins toothily at Kadlin then, and shrugs. "I know a few spells, yes. But they are, hmm, as blunt a thing as you might expect. No charm, no summons, no undeath. Things to help me move, and fire, pure and simple. Goblins enjoy fire. But the other spells aren't dangerous, and I could demonstrate them in here. Nothing flashy, honest."

The Goblin snorts and laughs, patting her stomach. "It is no magical power, just... a talent, I suppose."

Aragos offers a faint half-smile to Kadlin as well as a nod, and then another in agreement. A moment later his drink comes and he picks it up, rising to his feet. "You speak big words mage, but your actions speak louder." His purple eyes flicker to Murder. "As yours are meaningless. You know nothing of me or my actions. If I have saved lives or not. Assumptions only."

He leans toward the goblin, his voice dead serious. "Even if I saved a thousand lives, it would not be enough to atone for a single drop of blood which I have spilled. That is not how this world works. The price of one life can not be paid with another. Never. Your love is a shallow thing if you think it can." With those decisive words he turns and starts toward one of the tables.

"Artifice. Like artifacts. Created things? Oh we have wonderous blacksmiths for such things. They create the best weapons and armor. Dare I say the best one would ever find. There is nothing like the weapons and armor that come out of an Aesir forge." Did she even know about the magic of artifice? It seems that her experience with magic has only really been with the destructive side of things. Some of the eggs are picked from the plate and placed in her mouth.

She turns her head to look at Murder now, trying to comprehend her description of the magic she uses. "No summon or undeath? Well that seems somewhat harmless then." Did she mention fire? "And we are back to the fire." She gives small smile. "I suppose standing beside allies who have the control of fire is better than standing across from one." A piece of bacon is grabbed and she idly chews on it. "There are a lot of things I feel I am going to have to get used to should I choose to remain in the city for a while. It certainly is nothing like Steinholar."

Aragos' actions are meant with a narrowed eye. She is not thinking his words are wrong. If anything, she relates to the other human probably better than the others present. As he turns to move to another table, she turns on her stool and with a tilt of her head to the side speaks. "Is is natural to assume that which is not known Aragos. It is one's nature to judge whether they try hard not to do so. I suspect all have you have already judged me." She turns on her stool a bit to face him better. "One cannot put a price on a life. Tha price is only valued by those whose the life effects." She pauses a moment and then adds. "We all must live with our actions. We may never atone for them. Yet we must learn to accept them. We do what must be done in the moment and reflect afterwards." She shrugs and moves to run back around on her stool. "We have all lost something. Atonement or justice will never feel that void, this is true, but if I could have delivered the killing blow to the brigand that killed my father, I would have without question. Fuck atonement."

Mikilos peers after Aragos, but declines to comment. It's clear they disagree, and are unlikely to change their minds anytime soon.

He blinks at Kadlin a moment. "....remind me to take you by the Artificer Hall. And while I certain agree there are master Aesir craftsmen, I question their place as the best. I freely admit I'm bias, but a master Sildanyar craftsman can hone their craft far beyond what most other can manage."

"I was giving you the benefit of the doubt.", the Goblin replies. "I am not saying lives are traded on a one for one basis or that it negates terrible things. But that one should take into consideration that people make mistakes, and that you should look at mistakes with the good someone has done in mind. Try to balance the scales." She looks to the barkeeper, and wiggles her mug at them, "More kafe, please and thanks you."

She glances to Aragos, "Your goddess does this, measures the good against the bad. Why would you only see the bad?"

Murder simply shrugs. "You say I don't know you, so how would you know what my love is if you don't know me." Murder offers a little wave. "Have yourself a good night."

At the swearing from Kadlin, the Goblin giggles. "Well said, Kadlin"

"Yeah, so, uhm, I can fly, for one. And Jump really high! Make myself super strong, and climb the walls like a spider! Fun stuff!"

For a moment Aragos hesitates, standing there and looking at Kadlin with a mixture of understanding and agreement. A trace of pain in his purple eyes. He might have said something to her, but his faces loses all trace of expression at Murder's words. She's dismissing him. As if she has any right to do so.

The paladin of Vardama allows her words to settle into the space between them. He turns his back on her, dismissing her as she'd dismissed him, and moving to his chosen table where he settles in to drink his time away.

Kadlin turns when she hers Mikilos speaking. She knew little of anything outside Stormgarde. It was true, she had not done a lot of traveling. "Very well. I shall let you show me this Artificer Hall. I mean who am I to judge something i have not yet seen before. I cannot promise it will change my mind. Master Aesir blacksmith's are second to none. So when you say they can hone their craft beyond are you suggesting that magic is involved? You see in my mind, that lacks skill." She is not being harsh, just she knows little else.

She looks over to Murder and smiles with a raised bro at her words. "You can fly...climb walls, and lift things bigger than yourself?" She sips her kafe once more and peers at the goblin from behind the rim. "Okay, now that is something I would enjoy seeing. Unnatural, but I might enjoy seeing it." She was going to be a hard sell on magic. In her world, blade swung, blood spilled."

Her head then turns to the Paladin who has decide to take a seat on his own. She kind of understood, but truly did not know hil well enough to do so. Nevertheless, she felt somewhat responsible for his departure. She slowly stood from the seat and gave Mikilos and Murder a nod and a murmured word. "I'll be right back."

She makes her way over to the table, pulls out a chair, turns it around and sits backwards on it, leaning over the back of it where her arms rest. "Hey. Look, we have all done things we regret. Some of us more than others. And not one of us..." She gestures her hand to herself and to Murder and Mikilos. "Not one of us knows each other's full story. I am not sharing." She tilts her head ot the side where a strand of hair hangs down before her eye. "None of us know the reasons or what any of us have gone through. And none of us are going to be able to help the other deal with that. It's a battle we must fight alone. So none of us have a right to judge the other. None of us."

Mikilos waits for Kadlin to return to her seat before picking up the previous thread. "I should clarify the Artifice and crafting are two very different things. Artificers try to blend technology and magic. It is a school I disagree with, but tolerate because of it's industrial usefulness. I am not an Artificer.

"I am, however, a craftsman. Bladesmith, specifically, though I dabble in a wide range of crafts. I opened my own forge some forty years ago, admittedly too soon, I was far from a Master at that point. And well I do consider myself a Master smith now, I understand my skills are minor to those who have been at the forge for centuries."

"Hmm, artifice will probably not improve your stanc4e on magic, but, honestly that's fine if it doesn't, Kadlin." The Goblin eyes Aragos for a moment further, before shrugging her shoulders. "Not too worried about the paladin. They often have a stick up their behinds, or worse, the whole darn tree. Can be said of archmages, too. Certain ones."

Murder rubs at her cheek. "Let's not let it spoil the night. Artifice is kinda neat, from what I have seen, and has drawn many of my kinfolk into its orbit, much like explosions, guns and fire have."

Her words said, Kadlin stands from the chair, not bothering to turn it back around and makes her way back to the bar to leave the Paladin to remain alone as he desired. She settles back onto her seat and reaches for her Kafe once more. "You are a bladesmith? Considered a master in your craft?" You can see the fight going on within her head. A bladesmith she understands, a magic bladesmith is an abomination to her Aesir craft, but her curiosity was peaked. "So let's just say...I have an great axe. Finely crafted. What could you do to it...I mean just asking. For a friend. Who likes magic and stuff. She sips her coffee peering at him from behind the rim.

She looks over to Murder now. "I am not sure anything will improve my stance on magic. Nineteen years of not experiencing it." She glances over her shoulder once more to the mentioned Paladin and then back to the goblin. She does not comment. "If it is magic that has a practical purpose I can see the usefulness. Well perhaps I could learn to see it. It is still unnatural. " There she goes disconnecting magic at all from nature.

"Well, nineteen is a long time, but, not so long that you couldn't change your mind. Not saying you have to, just that it's a possibility, right?" The Gobbo leans her chin on her hand. "For example..." Her hand reaches up to her head, where a little barrette is seen, after a moment her leather armor is suddenly a blue summer dress. "I can have clothes for any occasion." Her leather armor changes back to normal after a few moments.

"There's lots of useful, not scary, not dangerous magic in the world. Mikilos can probably make your weapon stronger, do more damager, or set fire to your enemies, should you want." Murder stands up, and moves to hug at Kadlin.

"I'm going to go up to the room and take a bath. the place Mikilos talks about is not far from here, so if you wanna go, go, look around and so on. I'll be here for you, okay?"

Mikilos smiles and nods. "I am very aware of the magus propensity for arboreal rectal insertions. Some of the professors at the Society exhale bark." He laughs, and wipes at his eyes. "Telamon. Geeze. Stickless, to be clear, but I still think of him as a wet behind the ears kid, just arrived to the city. No, he's an Archmage, married and settled into a rather nice house. When the heck did that happen? I turned away for just a moment."

To Kadlin he nods. "Most of what I forge, I then enchant. You're perfectly welcome to stop by my shop. Up the Mountain Road, under the giant sword. Can't miss it.

As for an axe, I'd have to make sure it's a masterwork. Enchanting strains the material it's placed upon. Poor craftsmanship, and the magic would rip the object apart. Part of why permanent spells on people are rare and difficult. Flesh can only withstand so much.

Anyway, a base enchantment strengthens the weapon, makes it far harder to break. Typically protects it from rust, hones the edge to never burr or go dull, and can add a magic glow, about the strength of a torch. Further enchantment needs that base layer to set a solid foundation to build upon."

Kadlin waves to Murder as she slides off the stool and ascends the stairs, turning her attention fully to Mikilos now. She listened carefully to all he had to say. Everything he could do for her axe. There seems to be battle going on inside her head. It was her father's great axe, crafted by a master blacksmith of Steinholar. Would altering it be a slap in the face to her culture. "My axe is masterwork. It was my fathers. So what you are saying is, you could make it last longer?" She reaches for her kafe and sips once more. "I have skill in weaponsmithing. I have been able to keep the axe in peak condition given a forge."

Mikilos nods, pulling the blade at his hip around to his lap. "This is Quarlani. It was forged by my ancestor, Raychell Reysatra, long ago. Before the Sildanyari split to three people. Before the rise of the high kings. Before Adom forged the tribes into the Drani. So yes, magic can make things last a very, very long time."

Her eyes go to the blade upon the elf's lap. If there was something Kadlin knew and understood it was a weapon. Now he was speaking a language she truly understood. Her eyes studies the blade carefully, seemingly analyzing it and the fine craftsmanship that was before her. "It has a name?" She exhales slowly and looks back to the glance of the elf beside her. "Perhaps such magic is not all that bad? Perhaps I have been quick to judge." She shrugs and nibbles on her lower lip. "I think I might like to see this Artificer Hall sometime."

Mikilos nods. "It is called Quarlani. Which translates as 'soul' or 'spirit'. Magic is a tool, and like any tool, it can be used for both good or bad. But as with tools, some are more set in their purpose. It is hard to use a sword to heal. And difficult to use Necromancy for Good. Artifice... feeds and clothes thousands. The factories of the city run off Artifice. It's a hard, often dirty life, but it's better than freezing or starving. Artifice runs the manalamps on the street outside, and lifts great airships into the sky. Artifice also made the Desolation, the corrupt city of Merkabah, and monstrous abominations beyond measure."

"I guess magic is much like any other weapon. In the hands of those who seek to do good and harness it for assisting others it can be something beneficial. Yet, in the hands of those intent to do harm it can be destructive." She ponders her words a moment and with a narrowing of her eyes speaks once more. "Perhaps I can come to accept it in some capacity." She shrugs. "I am making no promises. However, one often fears what they do not understand, perhaps as I understand it more I might come to be able to at least live amongst it."

Mikilos nods. "I think you'll find some magic to be very useful, but quite understand if you choose not to embrace everything. Or maybe you'll become an apprentice yourself, stranger things have happened."

The Aesir laughs lightly. "Acceptance may be one thing. I cannot ever see myself using it. Perhaps wielding a blade touched by it, but even that would be a step I would have to come to terms with and acceptance from Kor." She runs a hand over the back of her neck. "I have my ways as you have yours. I have my skills as I you must as well. I can only assume that both ways coexist in battle."

Mikilos grins and nods. "True, I don't think it's very likely. But a chance, how ever slim, is still a chance. But yes, magic and strength of arms both have their place." He falls quiet for a moment. "House Mithralla stood as a warrior house for generations. I am the first arcane head of the house."

"Your House is a martial one? You are the first arcane? How was that accepted? Were you shamed or frowned upon by your choice to follow the path of magic? I cannot say that has ever been an issue in Steinholar. We swing weapons and train hard to learn to use them to the best of our ability. Magic is hardly ever seen or even spoke of."

Mikilos shrugs. "Everyone else is dead. My grandfather made the shift to a merchant house. I had a knack for magic, and trained to support my father and elder brother. Then the Witch Queen, Altima, attacked Alexandros. My father and brother organized airships to fly in warriors and supplies to try and help. Something went wrong with one of the ship's engines. The explosion left nothing but ash. So, now I am head of the House." Naturally there's far more to the tale, but Mikilos sticks to the bullet points.

It seems everyone has a story of tragedy and loss. At least those she has met since arriving in the city. She takes a moment to collect her thoughts, biting her lower lip before speaking once more. "I am sorry for your losses. Do we ever truly recover from such? I know I will never will." She picks idly at the cold eggs now on the plate. "My mother died bringing me into the world. Guilt. My father passed defending the Jarl from a brigand attack on the way to Volstengrad. He was the Captain of the Jarlsguard. I was there. But my duty was seeing to the safety of the Jarl's daughter. Which I did. If she had not fled from the carriage into the melee, could I have stayed and saved my father. Guilt." She shrugs. "All we can do is move forward.. right?"

Mikilos nods. "Onward. Sometimes a path ends. Onward is moving backwards to find a new path, or sideways in a new direction. Sometimes the best you can do is maintain your place and try not to slide back, until a new way forward is found. But yes, keep moving, keep trying. Sometimes there is no right answer, just the wrong you chose."

"Onward. That is a much better word. Onward. Yes. Onward is all we can do. Sometimes the path is not revealed. I left Steinholar with no direction or destination, just a need to get away for a while from the pains that it harbored. I did not know I would end up here, beside you, talking about life choices and magic when I awoke this morning." She laughs lightly. "Sometimes there is no right answer, just the lesser of two evils I have found."

Mikilos sighs. "We hope it's the lesser evil. Sometimes we choose poorly. But, in failure, we gain experience. In experience, we find wisdom. And with wisdom, we make better choices."

The barbarian woman nods, contemplating his words. "Whoa. That was deep. I mean I agree. It makes a lot of sense, just really deep for one cup of kafe." She gives the Elf a slight smile and exhales once more. "I feel I should go prepare for what the day shall bring. Might we find time to see this Artifice Hall you speak of?"

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2024-01-02T16:31:54Z

Petros: /* January */

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New Face in Town

2024-01-01T19:17:23Z

Petros: Created page with "<pre> The Ox-Strength Tavern, midday</pre> The noon-day crowd is generally quiet, the usual trouble-makers off at hard jobs, or set to sea, leaving the older geezers to keep the benches and barstools warm. The barkeep, an Aesir woman, laughs at some joke just told by an ancient mariner, a man with a missing hand, replaced with a hook. They trade friendly barbs in heavily accented tradespeak. Few other patrons are scattered in twos and threes, huddled together over hot..."

<pre> The Ox-Strength Tavern, midday</pre>

The noon-day crowd is generally quiet, the usual trouble-makers off at hard jobs, or set to sea, leaving the older geezers to keep the benches and barstools warm. The barkeep, an Aesir woman, laughs at some joke just told by an ancient mariner, a man with a missing hand, replaced with a hook. They trade friendly barbs in heavily accented tradespeak.

Few other patrons are scattered in twos and threes, huddled together over hot apple cider, kafe, or the daily stew.

One of the cozy chairs by the pot bellied stove has an occupant, a wee Goblin in black leather. The chair's been dragged up close to the stove, and she rests her bare feet near it, enjoying the heat. "Oi Rose, another curry?" Murder holds up an empty bowl, probably licked clean. With a snort, the barkeep turns and heads into the kitchen,

She had only recently arrived in the city. A destination come upon more bhy happenstance than a planned journey. She had no particular destination, simply wandering south from Stormgarde, a place she had seldom left. All of this was new to her and the city itself had proven to be somewhat overwhelming. Large buildings, different races, all of it was a culture shock to say the least, but one thing she did know was that she was hungry.

The snow did not bother her. In fact, it really was all she knew. Cold weather was the norm in her Jarldom of Steinholar. Yet, as she wandered the city looking for something to eat, she found herself making her way towards a seedier part of town. It was quieter and the people she saw started to look a lot more like those from back home; well at least bit and that comforted her.

She found herself outside the Ox-Strength Tavern and after a pause in front of the door she opened it, taking a moment to pause in the doorway and assess the room before entering. Cold air swooped in before she finally closed the door behind her and with a purposeful stride made her way to the small stove, her eyes glancing to the other patrons as if assessing their stares. Hands extended to the stove, the Aesir woman remained standing, her eyes turning to the figure sitting in the chair in front of the stove.

It was a narrowed eye glance, trying to deduce exactly what she was looking at. Was it a pet? Could it speak? Only one way to find out. She knelt down before the stoe, hands still extended as the snow started to melt from her shoulders. "Anything good to eat here?" A simple inquiry to start.

"'Ere now, shut the door!", a cloaked man complains, just as Kadlin shuts the door. He huffs into his hands, and wraps them around his mug, looking away.

The Goblin peers at Kadlin as the woman approaches, and she sits up. "Well, I like the curry here. Has a good heat to it, even if they do use rat meat." A bowl of said curry the thonked onto Murder's head, and she growls as the barkeep snorts. "It's chicken, not rat.", Rose says. She steps away as the Goblin digs in.

"Been walking far?", she wonders, in between bites of curry. There's not much chewing going on, just rapid ingestion.

It speaks. That was a bit of a surprise. Kadlin half-expected a little yip or perhaps a growl of sorts. When something intelligible comes out of the Goblin's mouth she blinks a few times and actually extends a finger to gently poke thr goblin in the side of the shoulder. "Can't blame this one of the mead." She watches as the little figure scarfs down the curry, making a somewhat expression of disbelief. "Rat meat? Have had that before. Little chewy but..."

She turns her head a moment to look to the man who huffed about the door, a stated word in his direction. "Mind your way or get a thicker cloak."

Eyes slide back to Murder and she continues her conversation. "Far? You could say that. Stormgarde. Only just arrived here in the city with no real purpose or plan. I kind of like it that way." She watches as the spoons of curry find their way into the goblin's mouth. "Where do you put it all?" It was a legitimate question.

The barkeep makes her way just then over to where the pair are before the stove, taking a chance at her appearance and murmuring a few words in her native Aesir dialect. Kadlin's smile was evident as she replied in the same words. Perhaps this city was not going to be so bad after all. "What she is having. The chicken option. And a mead."

The Goblin eyes the finger poking at her shoulder, and cants her head to one side. She stands up on the chair, all three and a half feet of her. "Stormgarde? That's a little bit of a walk. I'm from east of there. Had me whole tribe killed in a war, just me'n'my sister left alive. Da brought us down here, though Da is not my real father, but he raised us til he could not longer contain us." Murder laughs.

"Rat meat is okay, better with spices, but it's not really healthy t'eat, they're bottom feeders, like fish, eat everything that hit th'floor." The Goblin makes a face, and then offers up a small hand. "Name's Murder. Nice ta meet ya."

The barkeep nods, and peeks her head into the kitchen, yelling out an order, before going to pour mead into a stein.

"And you're in luck!", the little woman says, "The Guild here has plenny of jobs, I am sure ye can lend yer..." The Goblin steps back a little, to look Kadlin up and down. "Yer axe to a good cause."

Kadlin listens to the story about the Goblin's past, truly listening. She knew of loss and could relate. As she stands upon the chair, Kadlin leans back a bit, giving ample space to the figure before her. "I am sorry for the loss of your tribe. War is a terrible thing. Yet, sometimes it is the only solution." Interesting words coming from a worshipper of Kor.

"Well yes, rat is not the most healthy of things to eat, a lot of diseases and other things festering within. Sometimes tho, when there is nothing else the risk is worth the starvation." She shrugs and gives the goblin a wink. "Luckily, I am not that hungry to sink to that level."

Her head cants to the side at the mention of the guild, clearly interested as to what this entails. "The Guild? You mean there is a chance for me to make a living here? Earn some money?" Her hand move to rub her chin slowly. "Perhaps I should look into this Guild. If I can make some coin swinging this or protecting others it might keep me from having to eat rat curry."

She small hand is taken and gently shook, Kadlin's own hands rough, weathered and a few small scars. "Murder? Your name is Murder?" A slow nod is given. "Is that your real name or did you earn it?" She watches the little goblin with a raised brow. "Kadlin. Kadlin Bjornsdottir of Steinholar."

"War is one thing, but it shouldn't lead to extermination.", Murder says with a frown. "But there will come a time when I return, and take revenge for my tribe. Learning how t'be the best I can be first, though. Then I'm going to go kill ol' One-eye, and whomever's left of his tribe." The Goblin spends a few moments inhaling the last of her curry from the bowl. "And I put it all inta my two hollow legs.", she says with a messy, toothy grin and a wink.

The barkeep arrives a moment after, setting down a bowl of curry chicken over rice, and two large steins of mead. The little table, normally nestled between the two comfortable chairs, is dragged closer. "You can use the other chair if you like.", Rose says, while Murder snags one of the mead glasses. It doesn't last long, though her eyes may be floating in mead by the time she's done.

Letting out a belch, she giggles at length. "I earned it, and I named meself!"

"As for money, the guild will pay. Lots of missions. Sometimes as..." She lets out a lengthy belch and pats her stomach. "Oof. Sometimes as caravan guards, or a search party for lost... whatevers, and as dungeon explorers or monster killers."

Kadlin has her own opinions of war. Some groups in her mind deserved to be exterminated. Yet, she was not going to expound upon that matter any longer. There were victors in war and the victimized, and who sat along side her was one of the victims. However, hearing about her desire to seek revenge was addressed. "Justice is a powerful motivator Murder. And you certainly deserve it. I would not desire to be Ol' One Eye when you finally decided to seek it.A small laugh is given as she looks at the goblin's legs. "In your hollow legs? Well that aswers that question, does it not?"

As the curry arrives her hands move to pick up the bowl, taking a small bite and savoring the flavor. It had been quite a while since she had a properly cooked meal. Many prior to this had been cooked over an open fire and without spice. "This is quite good. I can see why you ate it so quickly." There is a bit more mannerism in how Kadlin eats, but not proper by a long shot.

The loud belch is met with another wide eyed glance. It was not something Kadlin was unaccustomed to, she was raised among Aesir men and women, but coming from the diminuitive goblin it took her back a bit. "Did that come from the hollow legs too?" The slightest of smiles.

The mead was then reached for and a long sip taken, savoring the flavor she had not tasted in quite some time. "Now that is what I needed." Another sip. "Caravan guards? Dungeon explorers? Monster Killers? I think that is something I could find myself becoming quite adept at. Will you show me where this guild is when we depart?"

She finally now takes the seat by the stove, looking over at her companion. "Are there places ot stay in the city as well for someone such as myself?"

The Goblin cackles and shakes her head. "Nah, that was my stomach. Soon, th'food coma will take over and I'll nap for a while."

The curry has a savory flavour, bordering on sweet, and the chicken is well cooked, the rice too. "It's good for a tavern, and definitely worth the price." The mead is good, and the flavour speaks of home, surely made by some Aesir's hand. Deserving more than being guzzled down, like some Goblin.

"Sure, I'll show you the Guildhall. Oh, you could also check out the Colosseum! You looks pretty strong, Kadlin Bjornsdottir, perhaps you could be a gladiator, and fight for glory and honor!" Murder pauses, her eyes wide. Her silence is then marred by a noisy hiccup. Then another. And another. "I ha... hate hiccups.", she says with a frown. "Oh y.. y... yes! There are places all 'round. Prolly wouldn't want ta stay in the backroom here. Too cold an' they won't let ya burn nothing to keep warm." The barkeep bangs the bartop. "Ye and yer bloody fire!" Murder responds by sticking out her tongue at Rose. "Set one building on fiah and they never let you live it down."

"A nap does sound good. Cannot remember the last time I had a good night's rest since leaving Steinholar." She takes another long sip of the mead and stares at the stove for a moment before speaking once more. "Good mead. No doubt any proper Aesir would serve anything less. I might have to come back here. The atmosphere is delightful." Another small smile.

She settles back into the chair resting the mead on her lap. "There is a Colosseum? Here in the city? I should very much like to see that. I competed in many tournaments hosted by my King. I might enjoy that. Make a little bit of money perhaps and get my name out there for further opportunities. Yes, I would very much appreciate it if you were to show me that as well and perhaps direct me on who to speak to in order to set up my potential involvement."

A long sip of the mead is taken and she look over at the goblin once more. "Yes, owners tend to frown upon when their establishment is set ablaze. Quite literally their profit goes up in smoke."

"The mead and ales are good! This place used ta have a poor reputation, but everything's pretty good now." The Goblin stretches out to pat Kadlin on the shoulder. "Sounds like I should help you find a place to sleep first. Finish up yer lunch and get a bit more mead into ya, and I'll take ya to a place just down th'road. Fernwood Pub, has comfortable rooms, and the price isn't bad at all. Got a room there meself. Ya can stay there if ye can't afford a place. Happy ta share, and I don't take up no room anyways."

"As for the Colosseum, it's right close."

A firm nod is given and the mead grabbed, with a long swig as the stein is emptied. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out some coins, setting them on the table before the stove. It is enough to pay for both meals, or so she thinks. "Well what are we waiting for then? Show me this Colosseum and then perhaps I can try and secure some lodgings. Shall we?"