If It Fits

Market District, mid-day.

It's snowing. Of course it's snowing. It hasn't _stopped_ snowing. At least it's a light and gentle snow, and at least the Market District is, as ever, full of life, and full of people exchanging currency for goods and services--although it looks like, for the moment, there are mostly just people buying goods rather than services. There's also a fair number of people who are busy returning items that they've purchased that dissatisfied them in some way for the winter holidays.

There's also so, so, _so_ many children who have been dragged along and are crying.

Which is probably what behooves a group of adventurers to somehow be in the same time at the same place to a quiet(er) corner of the Market. There's no children begging for candy confections. There's no people heatedly discussing how they paid a handsome month's wages for a present for a girl that they barely knew just to reject their custom ring and that it shouldn't _matter_ that the ring was custom-made to fit her exact finger width; it should be returned to the merchant to sell to someone else (and other such arguments). There's only vendors selling an unusual array of things. Some people call this corner of the market the 'Curiosities Corner' as a result.

That's the only explanation for there being a particularly sleepy-looking man presiding over a stall of... Cheese? Butter? Whatever it is, it looks particularly creamy--oh, no, there's the sign on the stall, and the sleepy man says, "Welcome to Simon's Exotic Butters, how can I help you?"

He's talking to a woman who has a shawl draped over her shoulders, seemingly knit from gossamer thread that catches the winter light well. Her olive skin and short black hair is reminiscent of a Xian human, yet her pointed ears and turquoise eyes suggest she is sildanyari of some kind. Her dress is woolen yet looks a bit damp. Despite that, she doesn't seem to be cold at all. "Yes. Have you seen a cat around here?" she asks. "He is missing."

The cold does not seem to bother the Goblin, though the snow does impede her somewhat. Irshya slowly limps along, favouring her left side, and leaning heavily upon her trident. Her sea-green robes contrast nicely with the snow as she trudges through it.

She pauses in front of a stall offering tasty meat-on-a-stick treats, and comes away with a handful of them. The Goblin slowly makes her way towards the 'exotic butter' stand, busily pulling the tasty meat from the sticks and dropping it into her maw.

A short (for her kind) egalrin woman deck wing to toe in festive hues, ribbons, and far too many scarves is holding up two taxidermized tree rodents to a vendor. One is a brown squirrel that looks a little charred, and the other is a black lump of charcoal. "Okay listen shug, I knows this is ya livelily hood and all dat. But ya sold thi' ta me th' otha day and I told ya I needed /two/ squirrels. Not a chipmunk and a squirrel. How am I supposed to divine wha's bein' a squirrely with only /one/ squirrel and a fraud? I needed one fo' each hand!" Slixvah elaborates, sighing. "I gots a receipt!"

Thurid has been attending to clerical duties today, and has broken away to find something to eat at the markets. As such, she's dressed rather more thoroughly than she usually is- the brown and blue tabard displaying Angoron's mountain and thunderbolt over golden chainmail. Not that she needs such things to stand out in the crowd, being a head and shoulders at least taller than most. The snow doesn't bother her, and she's not wrapped up against it in furs or cloaks. The exotic butters is appealing... but what use is butter without bread to spread it on, so the Jotun keeps her eyes peeled for a stall to grab a snack from.

A relatively short (everyone else is so tall) ruddy sith-makar was standing by another stall, near the taxidermist stall. The Dragoon was eyeing up the bones with some interest; though being boned up wasn't exactly his style. And neither were bones. "Any in red?" He asks from the vendor, pointing at the bones. "Or maybe woven into a ribbon?" He twists his lips. "And any with Aelwyn written on them?"

The unfortunately snow covered, but thankfully leather cloaked, draconian's attention is taken by the very loud egalrin though, calling out, "Do not be desperate, make them desperate!" He flashes his teeth. "Threaten them with squirrelling!

Regardless of the snowfall, errands remain. Larders do not fill themselves and Yule feasts are quite efficient at depleting the same. Thus Verna has a basket hung in the crook of her arm, leaving her other arm free for Auranar. As they travelled, her eyes lift oft to the gently descending precipitation and once or twice at the children amongst the passersby.

Whilst they are not in search of a misplaced feline (noble a quest as such may be), Verna arrives in the vicinity of the woman seeking by nature of proximity to the creamer. If already seeking baking ingredients, why not seek better butter to avoid bitter batter?

Auranar is thrilled to find an exotic butter stand. Finding someone who sells unusual anything is a rarity it's true. However she's somewhat distracted from her quarry of butter when she overhears the story of a missing feline from the woman at her side and her thoughts of butter evaporate. "Oh! A missing cat?" Her voice is filled with sorrow and thoughts of her own beloved Hunter. "Where did you lose your cat? I'm sorry to have overheard, but starting from where you lost them might help you locate your feline friend." She smiles in a friendly manner at the woman.

The man in the hat that Slixvah is speaking to--who, indeed, sells just taxidermized squirrels and chipmunks--peers at Slixvah through a pair of lenses perched on his nose. "Roight, did I sell you a little 'munk rather than a squirrel? So sorry, lovie, my eyesight's going these days. So's mi'brains. You spend long enough with the squirrels and the little munkies, and you start losing your nuts."

Then he thinks about that. "Marbles," he corrects. "See what I mean? So sorry there, lovie. How'd you burn 'em anyway?"

The half-oruch gentleman-chef named Skully, who Thurid approaches in search of bread, is glad to sell Thurid one of the skull-shaped loaves. Or two, or five, or twelve. Apparently they're not a brisk seller due to being in this corner of the market, and also because they're skull-shaped. Skully, as is his chosen name (or nickname), laments that these would have sold out in his homeland, but he came to Alexandria for love, and...

While Thurid's getting mesmerized by the chef's life story, the woman in the shawl fixes Auranar with those turquoise eyes of hers. Her eyes seem to flash in recognition as she looks at the mark on Auranar's chest, and she looks away from Auranar rather quickly. "It is a cat that is known to my lady, and she has requested I find it, as it is involved in matters pertaining to my lady. It is a black cat with golden eyes."

Simon--presumably, if this is his exotic butters stand--raises a brow. "Lady, I don't know why you're looking for a lost cat at an exotic butters stand. I recommend trying the Temple of Gilead," he says, then he lifts a hand up to his mouth to stifle a yawn. "Uncle Simon owes me," he mutters. Nevermind, maybe it's not Simon.

The Goblin methodically inhales her meaty treat, casually overhearing mention of a lost cat, her ears perking up as Auranar inquires about the missing feline.

Her attention is distracted by the Jotenblood heading for bread, and Irshya offers a wave, with a hand filled with meat-on-a-stick.

Her attention returns to the woman speaking of a lost cat. The stall owner makes a good point." "Though, uhm, perhaps the cat has a penchant for exotic butters?", Irshya offers to the stall's owner. "Or maybe she is just asking all the vendors?"

The Goblin shuffles a little closer and peers at the turquois-eyed woman. "Was your cat last spotted in the lower market?"

Thurid, for her part, is more than happy to hear the Oruch's story- a good story is nothing to scoff at. and she can't help but munch on the first loaf while she listens, even without butter. She eventually agrees to buy a dozen more loaves which are bundled up for her. Before she turns away from the stall, with fresh bread in hand, she wishes him luck in love, business and life before she starts on her way towards the exotic butter stand- intent on learning what is so exotic about these particular butters.

Slixvah waves a wing off at Aelwyn giving her advice. "Don' worry honey, I'll give 'em th' runaround!" she quips at him before turning back to the bespecled taxidermist. She smiles with her eyes. "Das alright, hon, everyone's losin' they nuts in some manner, ya feel me?"

She deeply inhales. "Right, so, I was tryin' out thi' lil' squirrely hack fo' a lil' bit of squibbly bid'ness tha' I sapped together fro' the university, and it needs like some real quirky shtuff from like ten different things and I got ta thinkin'- 'wait all this crap I need is literally just all squirrels'. BUT! Squirrels only got five of da ten so I needed two. Doubled up on nutsy, futsy, gutsy, clutzy and fuzzy and UNFORUNATELY chipmunks do /not/ fuzzy they have cozy and UNFORUNATELY when having to tie ta'gether multidimensional hybridization matrix with a frickin squirrel requires /two/ squirrels, otherwise the matrix gets all outta whack and if you didn't know dead chimpmunks do /not/ work as they don't fit the equation perfectly so-"

She blinks. "... the chipmunk couldn't handle a magic. But squirrel can. Because they nutty."

The ruddy scaled Dragoon raises his head towards the sky as Slixvah goes off. White snowflakes hit his eyes. After rapid blinking and taking on after his mistakes, he then makes his way over the egalrin woman and dangles one of those charms off a string. "Look, this one has a delicate carving and it might glow in the dark." He offers, wriggling the bone as a distraction.

Then Aelwyn mouths towards the merchant. 'Smile and yield the squirrel'.

"She merely made an inquiry of a possible witness," Verna notes to the Simon or Simon-adjacent stall overseer. He receives a dour look before she turns to the elderly woman, with whom she can empathize on several levels. A brow lifts. "Golden eyes? That seems rather unusual. Is it known where the animal was last located, and when? I expect it would seek shelter and food if out in the weather for any length of time." Her eyes then shift to Auranar even as she adds to the elder woman, "Do you desire assistance?"

It's the woman's suddenly distant seeming that cues Auranar in that something is the matter. The way she looks at her chest and then away quickly. The way that she says that the cat is important to her 'lady' and not to *her*. The pointed ears. The wet shawl. Auranar's eyes narrow. There's a question that the fae ask mortals sometimes, and Auranar smiles a little to turn it around and ask it of the woman now. "What eye do you see from?"

She asks the question casually, sweetly, but the question is neither casual nor sweet, not even when the fae asks is it casual nor sweet, for when they ask it they often mean harm to the individual that they ask it of. "Or perhaps I should ask better, what Lady do you serve?" This is her true question, because depending on the answer to this, she might well have a few even less polite questions for the woman.

The lady in the shawl stiffens a little. "I, nor my Lady, have no qualm with you and your noble progenitor, madame," she replies to Auranar. "I am Alarka. I serve the Baroness Mori'amana, of the Court of Midnight Foam."

She turns back to face Auranar, but her head is lightly bowed. "I do not desire the ire of yourself nor your line. Please forgive any slight I have committed. My lady has asked for some matter of discretion in looking for the creature. It has been spotted recently throughout Alexandros. Its name is Miso. I would welcome assistance in looking for it."

Meanwhile, the gentleman in the hat is scratching his head. "Oh, sure, sure, all makes sense to me. Munkies don't have the audacit-ee that the squirrel has. Less room for nuts. And marbles." It's apparently all computing for him. At any rate, he presents Slixvah with two new squirrels, not chipmunks. No chipmunks. Never chipmunks.

The man formerly known as Simon seems about to open his mouth, but then he blinks, standing very still. The reason why becomes quickly apparent. There's a black cat scaling up his leg. "That hurts," he complains. "Is this your cat?"

"Mow," the cat says, eventually making its way up not-Simon's body and landing on his shoulder. Black fur. Golden eyes. It then grooms itself.

"Get this fucking thing off of me," not-Simon says, trying to bat at it a little. "C'mon. Shoo. I don't need your fur all over the butter."

Slixvah is nearly about to launch in further explanation, but soon her attention grabbled by the delicate carving. "Ooooh!" she coos, reaching a hand out for it. "Tha'll be perfect substitute fo' somma da mojo I do tha' sometimes I gotta suck da life outta--"

Manners! "Oh! Sorry hon!" She turns back to the gentleman in the hat. She claps her hands happily. "See! Ya gets it! The nuttier the betta. Shoo' if ya had a /flying/ squirrel that'd be flippin' aces." She gets two new squirrels, and happily exchanges them. "Thank ya so much hon! Bless ya kindness! These two will 'elp out a load of folks!"

There's some commotion going on around the corner of the stalls, the egalrin peering through the falling snow across the way. "Now das some folks I reconize, whuz goin' on ova there...?" She idly ambles over that way after bidding the taxidermist to stay nutty.

Irshya eyes Auranar as she presses the turquois-eyed woman for answer, and the Goblin squints as she considers the implications. Straightening, and leaning heavily upon her staff, she turns to peer at Slixvah. "We're lookin' for a lost kitty. Possibly that kitty. But uhm..."

She leans in closer to Slixvah. "There's some fae stuff possibly happening here, from what Auranar seems to be implying? I think."

"I think it likes you.", the Goblin says to the nephew of Simon.

Thurid raises a hand in greeting to those whom she might recognize on her way towards the butter stall, and she calls out wondering, "What makes them so..." she begins to sense the tension in the air as she draws a little nearer, and her smile softens, her expression taking on a slightly confused cant, "...exotic?" she finishes her sentence regardless. "Someone lost?" she wonders as she gets near enough to pick up the tail end of the conversation thus far.

Aelwyn snags that carving away from Slixvah's reaching hands. "Trade for a wine and good company." He flickers his tongue - but of course, it would be so undue of him to be simply handing gifts for free. His hand lowers down to his hips and tilts his head at the exchange, before he quietly mutters by himself. "... squirrels cannot fly..." Wiping the snow off his head though, he then turns to look at the direction Slixvah was heading in.

"The butter stall?" The draconian wonders. "Whatever could be happening at a butter stall in this weather?" No greased up goblins making havoc in this cold, for sure. The sith-makar follows on, nodding his head towards the various people. "Fae?" He asks, tilting his head. "At a butter stall?" He clicks his tongue, looking at the people who he doesn't recognize.

Verna quiets as Auranar shifts from sweet to suspicious, now watching the woman with a far higher degree of caution. Following the explanation, she turns at not-Simon's sudden .. eloquence and new accessory. "I recommend that you do not antagonize the creature." She then takes a tentative step towards him (or, rather, the feline), lifting and extending her hands as a possible perch (rather than to grab). "Are there any threats from or to Miso of which we should be aware?" This is asked 'behind' her towards the woman and/or Auranar.

Auranar seems oddly mollified, and perhaps even a little bit stymied by the fact that she seems to have intimidated the woman that she spoke to. She flushes a bit suddenly, her dark-colored cheeks helping to hide the sudden flash of embarrassment but not the other signs of it; particularly when the cat - Miso - seems to suddenly decide to show itself. "I ah... I apologize. It seems that you've found your quarry. I meant no insult by my words. You've no quarrel with me and mine if you and yours have no quarrel with us."

She takes Verna's hand suddenly, feeling ashamed of scaring the poor fae woman. "Come along Verna. Lets leave this woman to collect her cat."

GAME: Irshya rolls knowledge/nature: (10)+4: 14

To Auranar, Alarka murmurs, "You should not be ashamed. There were many who were gladdened by the Corpse-Eater's death. There are also many who simply do not wish to earn your ire."

More openly, she looks at Verna. "Do not be alarmed. But this creature is responsible for the breakdown in my lady's affairs. At least, I perceive it to be the reason such. It has been present at every major conflict and event thus far. We are unsure of Miso's true nature, and therefore, I cannot tell you its capabilities."

Miso blinks golden eyes at the group of people who are now quite interested in the cat. Really, many cats are used to being the center of attention, and this one appears to not mind the attention at all--really, it rather demanded it by scaling Mt Not-Simon in the first place.

It engages in typical cat behavior, which is to hop off not-Simon's shoulder and to instead perch on the stall, sniffing at some aged goat butter with chives that's sitting out on a sample tray. "Hey! Get your ass down from there!" Not-Simon grumbles, trying to move the cat, but then he cries out as he pulls back his hand. It's bleeding.

GAME: Slixvah rolls alertness: aliased to perception+2: (15)+16+2: 33
GAME: Thurid rolls perception: (19)+10: 29
GAME: Verna rolls perception: (12)+29: 41
GAME: Irshya rolls perception: (10)+19: 29
GAME: Aelwyn rolls perception: (14)+1: 15
GAME: Auranar rolls Perception: (16)+5: 21

Slixvah rolls her eyes. "Fiiiine," she dramatically bemoans to the cavalier along the way before she ends up at the butter stall with everyone else.

She squints. "... I know dat cat," she mentions idly. "What up."

The incredibly fast, near invisible lash almost goes unnoticed, were it not for her already staring at the hand reaching out. "Ow."

It's very clear to her now there's some fae things going on, and last time she had dealings with this cat, it was better to go with it rather than pry more. She does, idly, glance around for mirrors.

Thurid picks up the pace and her expression darkens a shade further, almost a frown now as she spies that mysterious tendril and the wound it's caused. She takes one last bite of her bread, and then tosses the bag to a random passer-by "Hang onto that for me!" she calls out. She steps up towards the stall and places a hand on the not-Simon's shoulder, sending a surge of positive energy through him to mend the cut in his hand. "Step back." she tells him, the hand on his shoulder aiming to tug him so that she's between him and the cat. To the cat she says, "You're no ordinary kitty, are you?"

GAME: Thurid casts Bane. Caster Level: 10 DC: 15

The Goblin blinks, her eyes seeing the preternatural strike. With Thurid tending to the man's wound almost immediately, Irshya instead keeps an eye on the cat, and pulls her trident in close. With a grimace, she straightens, taking her weight off of the weapon.

"So now what?", she wonders of no one in particular. "We are standing in the middle of a busy market. Let's keep that in mind, shall we?"

Verna has one hand clasped by Auranar as she implores that they depart. That is more than enough motivation, and the sudden lashing out at not-Simon by Miso the ..'Cat' simply speeds Verna's lovering of her other hand. "Indeed..." Auranar's hand receives a light squeeze as Verna steps back and closer to her side, "yet I would confirm the creature retrieved without any further harm to bystanders." She looks to Alarka with some concern, "You do not know its nature or capabilities. Are you able to retrieve and ...contain it?"

Auranar looks at Alarka. "Yes, that is the question. Can you retrieve the... cat?" Since she's certain that almost none of them believe that the feline is in fact actually a feline anymore. "Safely and without disturbing anyone preferably."

Aelwyn looks around, utterly lost at the discussion. The Dragoon, naturally of great fame, saw everything, and that is to say, he saw everything that was absolutely nothing. He stretches out his tongue, bites it with deep concentration as the man gets hit by the cat. Hit? Bleed? Poor butter.

"... to be of certainty, this is still a cat we are speaking of?" He asks, before reaching into his satchel and pulling out a ginger stick to gnaw upon. "What would be the difficulty in acquiring the feline?" And the draconian was not volunteering for the job, either.

Alarka's lips press together into a thin line. "Well," she says, "the creature obviously doesn't let you pick it up without grievous harm. Which I have also observed before."

"The damn cat clawed me," not-Simon complains as Thurid heals his wound. "I hate cats. They always attack me."

Miso stares up at Slixvah with golden eyes, sitting up from licking butter. It even grooms itself. Apparently it wants aged goat butter with chives smell in its fur. That'll be lovely to smell later. (Beauty, or good smells, are in the... nose... of the beholder.) "Mow," Miso says, before hopping off the stall table and wandering over to another stall. It is trying to perpetuate the illusion of typical cat behavior.

"Always?" Thurid asks the man then, glancing back to him. "They say cats can see things that people cannot. Perhaps you have an ill omen over you." she suggests, but then looks back towards the probably-not-a-cat and Alarka. "So what should we do, if we can't pick it up? I mean, I'm willing to make the attempt, if you've no better idea." she offers. "But I missed the beginning of the conversation. What is this creature, if not a normal cat?" she asks.

Slixvah hums to herself as Miso keeps up appearances, her staring back down at those golden eyes- she averts her gaze slightly. Never a good idea to stare at a cat. "Any other lords and ladies ya got under ya toe beans? Fun mirrors? Mrow?" she asks, hands in her pockets as she walks along with the cat languidly while the others figure out with Alarka on what needs be done.

"You might wish to visit a Temple, you may be cursed.", Irshya says to not-Simon. She eyes Slixvah speaking to the cat, and the Goblin begins to waddle along behind the Egalrin.

"Perhaps we can catch it with a basket?"

Verna's lips purse at 'without grievous harm.' She then glances briefly to the now somewhat-casually strolling not-entirely-cat before looking to Auranar. "I am not keen to antagonize it, but I would not leave it to roam the city, either. Do you have any thoughts, love?"

Auranar frowns at Irshya. "I have a spell that might work better, but if it does not it may cause the feline to reveal its true self. Which I am uncertain we desire in a market such as this. A basket may be more desirable, however barbaric that sounds." Indeed. At least then the feline would be forced to maintain at least a semblance of its feline form - presumably.

Aelwyn chews on the ginger stick in thought, before following in on after Irshya and Slixvah. "Ribbon knows the feline?" He asks, clicking his tongue. "Or has this one started hearing things after picking up that bone charm?" He gives a shake of the bone he picked up and a wide toothed grin at the egalrin. "No, but truly, what is going on?"

Alarka blinks a little with those turquoise eyes of hers at the suggestion of catching the cat in a basket. "I've seen Nasir coax the cat into doing what he wishes by bribing it," she says, before realizing she's mentioned someone that some of the people here might not know. "Nasir is the manservant of the lord who my lady was previously... entangled with. Although their affair has been over for some time now." She frowns greatly at the mention of this. "Perhaps a combination of bribing and basket might be in order for a peaceful capture."

Miso stares up at at Slixvah as the egalrin walks with the cat. The cat's tail twitches in a rather proud way as Alarka speaks on the dissolution of her lady's relationship. "Mow," Miso simply answers.

"Ohhh, what a pretty kitty!" The elf woman minding the stall--which appears to sell a number of hand-bound journals and handmade feathered quills for the discerning wizard or witch--is full of delight. She comes around the stall and offers her hand out to Miso. "Hello! May I pet you?"

Miso sniffs her hand for a moment, and then, after another pause for contemplation, puts its head up to graze against her fingertips. It then shoves its chin against the woman's hand, getting those chin-scritches that are a cat-lover's joy.

Irshya peers at Auranar, and shrugs her shoulders, holding up her hand. And remembers she has a few tasty snacks, which she begins munching on again. "Barbaric? How so?", the Goblin says between bites. "It's a way to safely catch the cat. It won't be harmed... we could even put treats at the bottom. Maybe the cat will jump in on its own."

"But if you think your spell will work better, please, by all means." She finishes off her treat, and then gets a puzzled look on her face. Her mouth opens and she presses her tongue against a tooth in her lower jaw. It wiggles. "One more medallion of the Order of the Tooth, soon..."

A little blue hand gestures at Alarka, "See? It could work."

Thurid heads over to keep an eye on the cat as it wanders around, making sure it doesn't do anything untoward to the new stall its found. In fact, after some silent deliberation, she decides to reach a hand out and attempt to stroke the Feline herself.

"Perhaps a combination of efforts is best," Verna concurs with ... well, the several courses of action hypothesized. She unhooks the basket from her arm and processed to remove a few recently-acquired purchases from it. It is then offered to Auranar, or whomever may wish to wield the Basket of Attempted Kitten Entrapment.

GAME: Thurid rolls handle animal: Trained Use Only: 0

Slixvah quirks a feathered brow. "I see ya still on it then," the egalrin continues, as if she understood the entire soliloquy a single 'mow' would entail. She glances to Aelwyn. "'tis a powerful kitty. Betta ta be on its good side. Met 'em while I was on a tripsie some place," she elaborates to the very famous Dragoon.

While the others figure out a containment measure, her attention drifts to the stall with the feathered quills. She takes one. Feather toy for the attempted basket catch. "I can dangle this in da basket?" she offers.

Auranar takes the basket from Verna, but looks at it uncertainly, following Irshya and quickly offering the basket to the goblin. "It was your idea, so you do it." She offers, not really wanting to try and trap the feline. She has a feeling that her attempt to do so would end poorly. Very poorly.

The Goblin blinks, now the proud owner of a basket. She opens her mouth at Auranar, and then closes it, a frown forming. But Slixvah offers a means to distract the cat, and Irshya nods. "That may do. Also, the cat may just do it on its own. If it fits, it sits!"

The Goblin sets the basket down near the cat, and gestures to Slixvah. "Alright, lessee what you can do, yes?" Her gaze goes to Aelwyn. "Perhaps we could use one of Aelwyn's ribbons, to dangle the feather from... or even use it on its own?"

Aelwyn finishes his stick of ginger chewy and swallows, before putting his hand down onto his hip. "Hmmh. A powerful feline, sneaking around butter stall? Tch, this supposes he has heard wilder stories," He tilts his head towards the side. He watches the attempts to tame the feline.

Then the suggestion to use one of his ribbons makes him widen his eyes. "Not the one upon this one's horns," The Dragoon says, before reaching into his satchel. Soon, there are ribbons procured - some with a bell upon. "But if Mow is as powerful as one says, then this one shall gladly offer it in trade for favor." He flashes his teeth, spinning the ribbon around his finger with a cheerful chime.

Thurid is successfully able to get a pet from Miso. The black cat rubs its head against Thurid's fingers. It seems Miso greatly enjoys attention being paid to it. Which, again, is rather like a cat.

The elf woman looks up at Slixvah and is grinning from ear-to-ear. "Are you all trying to find this kitty a new home?" she asks.

"Yes," Alarka says. "In a manner of speaking."

Miso looks up at Alarka, and while the cat has ignored the woman for a while, it seems to be staring at her in a way that seems... Very smug, even for a cat. Like they have an existing relationship and Miso seems to be enjoying vexing Alarka in some way. "Mow," Miso says, right before rubbing up against Slixvah's legs. Just a typical cat. Nothing weird about this cat at all.

GAME: Irshya rolls knowledge/nature: (12)+4: 16
GAME: Slixvah rolls handle animal: (16)+3: 19

Slixvah bobs her head to the elf, giving them a side glance. "Oh yeah fo' sho'. Don' worr', I'll pay fo' th' quill," she reassures. "Yesss, if it fits it sits."

Seeing Aelwyn's idea with a ribbon, Slix takes one, ties it to the quill. She peers down at the cat rubbing against her. "Well ain't you jus' bein' real' cute- oh snap, wha's dis baybeee!?"

She holds up the makeshift toy above Miso's head. Waggles it a bit. Runs it around her legs before underhand tossing it into the basket.

Aelwyn puts his hand on his hip once more, and then tilts his head. "If one grabs it by the tail, it would make putting it into the basket easier. This one has seen it many times." The Dragoon says and then pulls out another jerky from his satchel, tail swaying behind him. His orange eyes turn towards Thurid. "Hero could lift the cat up with two fingers, yes?" He flashes his teeth.

Irshya looks around, and gasps, running over to a vendor nearby. After a few rounds of haggling back and forth, the Goblin drops a few coins into the Sith's hand.

She returns to the basket with three soft, white, rabbit pelts. "Some strange rabbit pelts... some monster from the Cave of AAauuuuughhh." Lining the basket with the pelts, she looks to Slixvah. "Would you like to do the psspsspsspss honours?"

Auranar watches the ongoings with interest and yet stays out of it for the most part. As she will unless something goes awry or her help is needed in some way. She sincerely hopes that it isn't for many reasons. Hopefully no one else is harmed, and they can safely enrapture the cat with the feather trick.

GAME: Thurid rolls cmb+5: (2)+12+5: 19

Thurid beams at Aelwyn's assessment of strength, "In my experience it's more a test of endurance than strength, picking up a cat that doesn't want to be picked up." she tells him, but she does stoop and attempt to snag the cat. She shudders, and then withdraws her hand- no fresh blood, but she does wipe her hand on her tabard (blasphemous!) "It's all greasy." she complains.

Verna remains by Auranar, tethered (quite willingly) by her taken hand. She similarly observes the proceedings, noting aside to her wife, "They are much more easily gathered when they arrive at one's door seeking food and attention..."

When Thurid exclaims, she tenses, relaxing a moment later when there is no apparent loss of blood nor appendages. "Intriguing. I did not believe it had indulged in so much butter. She considers Miso further, brow furrowing in consideration.

Miso growls at Thurid, and the elf woman lifts a brow at Aelwyn. "Never grab a cat by the tail!" she says. "That's the quickest way to lose a hand."

The cat looks really rather peeved with Thurid's attempt to grab it by the scruff, with Miso's ears going back. It backs towards the elf woman, seeming to realize she's not explicitly affiliated with the adventurers who are trying to catch it, and gives the group a golden-eyed glare.

Until it notices Slixvah's toy. Miso ducks a little in the way that cats do when they're about to hunt (or play) with a toy. Maybe the cat will go for more of the feathered toy?

Slixvah winces as Thurid goes for a grab- the witch has no clue what this cat is capable of, and exploding kittens does not sound like a fun time right now. Seeing as the cat is temperamental, quickly flipping from anger to hunt-mode, Slix drags the ribbon-feather toy along the ground in front of Miso before popping it up and into the fuzzy basket that Irshya lined. "Pspspspsps!"

GAME: Verna casts True Seeing. Caster Level: 19 DC: 23
GAME: Verna rolls will+2: (2)+24+2: 28

Irshya eyes Thurid a moment as she makes a grab for the kitty. "Hmm, yes, definitely all that exotic butter. Gives your skin and coat a healthy sheen!" Giggling, she crouches down nearby to watch and see if the cat will be entranced by the feather.

"Not the worst beast to stalk the paths and roads of Alexandria..."

There's a wide grin after Thurid pulls her hand back, and Aelwyn flashes his teeth. "Ah, this one shall remember to oil oneself whence the next wrestling match is, then." He teases the way too tall woman. "This one has bought oil just for that purpose."

At the exclamation, Aelwyn looks at the elf, and looks surprised. Then he spreads his hands. "It is easier than biting the feline by the neck and using teeth to pick it up." The Dragoon replies, before taking another bite off his jerky. A proper feline expert.

Thurid chuckles at Aelwyn, "Funny you should say that. I actually did have an oil wrestling match once-" she begins, but then it seems as though Slixvah's approach is bearing fruit so she shuts her trap and watches to see if it works out. She glances around to see if she can spy anything that might serve to use as a lid for the basket once they have their kitty positioned.

While Miso may walk like a cat and stalk like a cat, there is also a fair amount of evidence that Miso is not, in fact, a cat. The issue is that they know nothing of what it is or may be and only what it appears to be. Verna's curiosity is piqued, and she dislikes a mystery (an unsolved one, that is). With Miso's ire growing, yet not (yet) to the point of further aggression, and it distracted by toys, furs, and calls, she decides to attempt and sate some of that curiosity. Despite the addage, she expects said curiosity will not harm the faux feline.

Verna releases Auranar's hand so that she has both of her own available; one lifts to gesture whilst the other retrieves a small phial. She incants while tipping her head up to loose a few drops from the phial into each eye before lowering her (now all-white, illuminated) gaze to the feline to see what she might, well, see.

The white lights that are currently her eyes grow wide as she stares. "By the gods, it..." Her ocular illumination is suddenly inverted as the glow is rapidly replaced with an utter, inky black. She does not complete the sentence; her legs buckle as if suddenly boneless and she crumples to the ground.

GAME: Auranar rolls Heal: (14)+9: 23

Auranar falls to the ground beside her wife. "Verna! Verna!" She cries out for her wife, uncertain of what befell her. The cat no longer matters to her at all. She cradles her wife in her arms, stroking her hair and her face tenderly. "She's alright. She'll... she'll be alright." Auranar says it as much to reassure herself as to reassure the others. "She saw a bit too much. The cat is certainly more than it seems." Much, much more so it seems.

Oddly, as Verna collapses to the ground, Miso... purrs. It's quite the loud and self-satisfied purr. Only then does the cat hop into the basket, continuing to purr within its warm space.

Alarka walks up to Irshya and holds her hands out to take the basket. "After that display, I fear what this creature might do in my lady's court," she mutters. "But, I must study it. I must come to an understanding with it." She looks at Auranar and Verna, frowning. "I apologize for what the creature has done, although it is not my place to apologize."

She stares down at Miso, at those golden eyes that seem far too pleased. "This creature is capable of apologizing for himself."

"Mrow." That sounds like a no, almost, from Miso.

The Goblin is mesmerized by the glowing white eyes of Verna. And her exclamation. Irshya blinks, "Yes... it what? Verna?" She frowns as the woman collapses, and is only slightly mollified by Auranar's assertion that Verna will be okay.

"A bit too much? I think that gets my vote for understatement of the year." Irshya frowns at the purring cat, and when Alarka offers to take the basket, she gives it over without hesitation.

"If you fear what it might do to the Midnight Foam, why are you accepting it into your care? That seems... foolhardy. Where ... are you taking it, exactly?"

Thurid's jocular approach drops off when Verna collapses, and she draws to her full height and takes a step towards the fallen Verna- only for her wife to beat the Jotun to the punch. She nods once at Auranar's words, and then turns towards Alarka and the cat in the basket. "I don't rightly understand what's going on, but it'd be best if you took that thing away and saw to it it didn't return. I get the sense it's dangerous, more dangerous than we know, and this is not the time or the place for it." she says then- firmly. "I can ward you against evil, and escort you to where you need to go to see to it that that creature harms no other." she says.

Slixvah does a double take as Verna all but crumples to the ground. She pales a bit- and by that, the feathers on her face press flatter. "W-Well, uh..." Her attention shifts back to the cat that jumped into the basket. That quill and ribbon are gone. "... I know a thing or two 'bout fussin' wit' th' void. Can skirt. Can lead it. Can even delve inta it. But really should never look /inta/ th' void." Void cat? Void cat.

She steps away towards the married couple. "Yeeeah. And while you do tha', miss tall, I can take a crack at unscramblin' th' Mourner's noodles."

Aelwyn moves quickly as well to put himself in between Verna and this feline beast. Of some beast. "This one agrees with Hero." The Dragoon suffices to say. "Do not mistake fumbling with a kitten to any incompetence in burning down cities and realms alike." He takes another bite of the jerky still sticking out from the side of his snout.

Verna is, indeed, alright... or will be, as Auranar observed and advised. One eye eventually opens, accompanied by the other. That her wife's visage is the first thing witnessed is a most assuring sight; Verna requires no magic to view that wondrousness. Yet she still spends a moment staring, blinking, and re-orienting herself.

" ... not a cat.." She advises softly. A swallow to re-wet her palate before she corrects, "Or not -only- a cat...? Leave it be."

Auranar glares at the feline, but she obeys her wife's request. "As you wish Verna." She stays at the other woman's side for the moment, just allowing Verna a long minute to recover. "You can rest here as long as you need." She presses a kiss to the top of the other woman's forehead lovingly.

"Exactly what I intend to do," Alarka replies to Thurid with a heavy nod as she takes the basket. "There may come a time when I ask for your help, or the help of others again."

She looks at Auranar and Verna in particular. "Perhaps after the great shaking of our firmament is finished," she says.

And before Alarka can be questioned much further, she walks away, diabolical cat purring as she goes.

-End