Unpleasant News at the Noodle Stand

Goblintown, midday

The sun is high in the sky, with the sky so blue it hurts to look at more than a few moments at a time. A chill breeze blows down from the mountains nearby, taking the edge off of the sun's heat.

The noodle stall is doing brisk business, it's bright awning buffeted by the wind as customers mingle and eat.

The Goblin strides along ahead, her robes likewise buffeted by the wind, kept in place by her shiny breastplate, her deity's holy symbol engraved over her heart, her holy symbol dangling from a fine chain around her neck. "This place here, Tel!", she says, gesturing at the stall and the sign above, with the word NOODLE translated into several of the most common languages of the city. Simony eagerly hops up on to a comfortably worn stool.

The temperatures today are a bit less harsh than they will be later in the summer, and the cool breeze definitely improves everyone's spirits. Following along in Simony's wake is Telamon, the elegant half-elf dressed in a casual long-sleeved linen tunic over leather trousers and his favorite boots. His platinum hair is blown back by the wind, and he casually rakes a hand through it to keep it out of his face.

"I admit, when you suggested 'taking me to lunch', I was expecting a restaurant, Simony." His eyes twinkle. "Still, I'm willng to try anything once, and I know you've got good taste. Some of the best food I've had has been in little eateries that humbly ply their trade and do a good job of it." Smoothly, he settles himself onto the stool next to Simony, his expression curious and interested.

She removes her wide-brimmed hat, setting a small pouch inside of it, so that she can leave it on the countertop without it blowing away. Laughing, she nods to the man. Squawking at the Oruch who comes to take their order in a patois of trade, Goblin-talk and Khazad, she gestures to herself and Telamon.

"Well, if one is not a fancy restaurant, how does one compete? Fast service, delicious food and reasonable price for what you get." Simony counts these points off on the fingers of one hand. "I wouldn't take you somewhere with horrible food, unless that was the point, to see how terrible it was." Drumming her fingers on the countertop, she smiles. "It's a great day to be eating outside. Even in the city. Imagine, Tel, being sat out upon a blanket with a picnic lunch, way up the mountain, or in one of those rolling fields of flowers and grass that almost go on forever. Could find yourself imagining a whole different world."

"I think offering unpleasant food to a goblin is right down there with offering unpleasant liquor to a dwarf. It's a terrible idea and a great way to start a fight." Telamon listens to Simony making her order, his eyes giving away no sign that he understands until the oruch walks away. Then he grins impishly at his friend. "Giving me the opportunity to test myself at my own pace, Simony? Thank you, that's very kind."

He nods, resting his arms on the counter. "I've always loved spring weather. Warm without being stiflingly hot, and the world feels like a runner ready to start his sprint." Tel considers, then smiles. "There's a field like that not too far from my home, you know. A rolling meadow that I used to play in with my friends, when I was shorter than you. I still dream of it now and then."

"You? Shorter than I?" The Goblin eyes Telamon up and down. "I find that highly improbable!" She lets out a little giggle, and then rubs her hands together as the noodles arrive, with a small platter of different dipping sauces set between them. Then a small tray with a dark, blue class bottle, and two small cups. The Oruch pours a small amount of liquid from the bottle into two cups, and then moves on to his next customer.

"Well, I could introduce you to these things the way my father liked to do, just hand you some and make a big show of eating some of it with no expression. Then laugh as you find out it's extra spicy." Simony grins toothily, moving to adjust the platter slightly. "The mildest stuff is closest to you. Mostly flavorful, slightly warm and tingly. This stuff.." She picks up a chopstick and gestures to a little cup of what looks like a green paste, "Is horseradish. It is surprisingly spicy, but not necessarily hot, per se. It doesn't last too long, either. So... it will make you tear up, maybe sweat a little, but you won't experience much discomfort, nor will there be any uhm... issues later, if you catch my meaning."

Telamon hmms. "If I recall some of my studies right, horseradish is prepared differently from pepper sauces. Different kind of 'burn'." He picks up the cup of greenish paste, sniffing at it. "Maybe a tiny bit, in a sec. Let's try the noodles first before I add anything." With that, he deftly picks up the chopsticks, mimicking other patrons as he carefully eats a bit. "Mmm. Good. Almost a shame to add anything, but now I'm curious."

Wisely, he reaches for the 'mild' cup of sauce. "We all tend to start out the same way, you know -- as children. Well, war golems don't but they're different on a lot of levels. I don't judge." He makes a little knot of noodles, and dips it in before popping it in his mouth. "Mmmf. It's good, but it's got some bite to it."

Simony snorts, "Still, Tel, you're almost twice my height. You have not been my height in a long time. It's a cute image, though, in my head. Maybe some day, I can see that field." While he is testing his mettle against horseradish, she rolls herself a wad of noodle, and stuffs it into her mouth, chewing quickly.

"The noodles are excellent on their own, and they're quite good. The sauces and spices are for some variety if one wishes. I thought you'd like to have the full experience, as much as you can stand that is."

The Goblin puts a larger dollop of the green paste onto her next mouthful of noodles, savoring the taste with a pleased 'mmmph' sound. "Yes, it definitely makes things interesting.

"Variety is a good thing. But always understand your limits." Telamon flushes at the heat from the spice, and looks hurriedly for a drink. "Phew. I should take you to Am'shere or Mictlan sometime, Simony. You'd like how they make the food there. Hark and his damn heroes' feasts always leave Lana and me wincing..."

Fortified with water, Telamon coughs, then continues, "Still, the food IS good. I can appreciate skill in many things, especially cooking." His expression becomes somewhat wry. "Which reminds me, I still want you to paint that portrait."

"Yes, some say variety is the spice of life, I say life is the variety of spice!" She lets out a little giggle, nodding as Tel takes a hasty swallow of water. "Know your limit, but every now and then, push it a little. Much like facing your fears... every now and then, confront them in small doses. They'll be easier to manage. And most of the time, that's what happens. Usually. Life's funny that way."

Her head cants slightly, "Hark tends to make the food a little spicy, or uh..." Eyes widen noticeably, "Or is he stuffing you to near bursting? Hero's feast is a fantastic spell. It is a shame, though, that deities are sparing with their powers, it's difficult to get a good balance where you can face every situation with a spell. But, if you have two clerics along, things go very well indeed."

Her expression brightens quickly as she recalls talk of the portrait, back before the latest round of demonic and fey misdeeds. "I'm still up for it! I have a painter's 'to-go' bag ready, just need to throw some clothes in and I am ready."

<OOC> Telamon says, "Rolling to inform pose."

GAME: Telamon rolls spaceBS: aliased to Bluff+3: (6)+30+3: 39

Aryia has arrived.

Telamon is too good of a negotiator to let things slip easily. But at Simony's mention of 'facing one's fears', his expression... twitches. Ever so slightly. One could think it was a reaction to the horseradish he's trying. "Indeed. One does not grow without pressing upon boundaries -- be they mundane or otherwise." He swallows, and takes another sip of water.

"By my standards? Yes, he does. I mean, I know Leirune likes it, but she's had a while to get used to Am'shere cooking." He smiles a bit. "Which doesn't mean she turns her nose up at other things. I had dinner with her and some friends the other evening."

He pauses, then plunges on ahead. "We're dealing with the aftermath of the Arcanist's dungeon breakout."

GAME: Simony rolls perception: (13)+15: 28

<OOC> Simony says, "To inform her pose."

The twitch in Telamon's expression is noted by Simony, her eyebrow rising slightly in puzzlement as she continued ahead. "Well, I did really mean mundane boundaries. Fewer people are able to push.. less-mundane boundaries in controlled circumstances. And there's higher risk. Do people need to see if they fear being upside down in the fey realms? Probably not. A silly example, hyperbole certainly, but.." The Goblin gestures a hand.

Her grin returns then. "It is a great spell, and it's meant to keep you full for a day, if I recall correctly. There are a few spells that do similar ... stuffing, and I've not used the spell. I think I will make a point of trying that one out soon. But... the downside is... it's so .. normal. It's good. Filling. Protective. But..." She nods at the spices and the sake. "This meal is far more delicious, you know?" Her next mouthful of noodle is almost into her mouth, when the Sil brings up the Arcanist's dungeon breakout. Simony slowly lowers the chopsticks down. "Go on."

Tlanexhuani has arrived.

Coming from one of the numerous alleyways is a familiar heavily scarred mul'neissa woman, green jacket shoulder robed and flicking from the breeze. Whoever she was speaking with gets a motion of 'we'll talk more later'.

Aryia passes by the noodle stall, only to catch the tail end of a couple of voices. She pauses, backs up, and adjusts course to inject herself right beside the two sampling a new level of spice. She gives an up-nod in greeting, the burns from before having healed over fully and leaving faint splotches of new scars, in addition to having half her head shaved down to a fuzz. A few motions to the cook, a smattering of coins, and the spiciest thing possible is ordered before she turns to the duo. Glances to their dishes, then back to them. She gives a subtle flick of a wave hello.

Whether it is food, conversation, crafts, or materials for the above, the most innovative can be found in this part of the city. Or so Tlanexhuani has come to believe, especially in the materials part. He emerges from a hastily-assembled shop from which he barely fits, straightening up most of the way. The creaking of scales as he does so is join by some jangling from the sack.

Telamon can't help but wince a bit as Simony reacts to his words. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to pick at old wounds." He reaches over to pat the goblin's hand. "I sent a team out to try and capture one of the escapees -- a nasty bit of work named Urvis Ironshanks." His lips quirk up. "One less problem roaming around for goodly folk."

Tel rubs the bridge of his nose. "Unfortunately, during the debriefing over dinner, I learned something fairly annoying, and--" At this point Aryia sits down next to him, causing him to do a double take. He actually flinches, not at her but at the burn marks and scorched hair. "Still hasn't grown back yet? Or is this from something else?"

The Goblin returns the pat with a little laugh. "Not your fault. Just means something /else/ to add to the list of 'things that mush be mashed with a hammer'." She ohs then, and nods. "Ah, okay, you got to it already. Awesome! You've always been so straightforward when solving these problems, it has to be part fo why you're incredibly popular. It's like... a leader comes to ask you to help and you've already solved half their problems. I think perhaps you're even undervalued here." From the small pouch holding her hat safe from the wind, Simony pulls her ever-present notebook out, and then a small pencil.

UPSELL TELAMON MORE

Her note is written in tidy, neat Khazad script.

The Mul'neissa is offered a bright grin and a wave, her fingers then forming signs. "Hello Aryia! You've found us at a fortuitous time, would you like a small cup of sake? Or some noodles?" The Gobbo gestures at the Oruch behind the counter to get his attention.

Aryia actually smiles with pride at Telamon's reaction, her running a hand through the hairless side of her head. "You were there!" she signs. "Takes a while for the hottest fucking thing that I've ever felt to heal. Healing is all done now."

Speaking of the hottest thing; a bowl of something foul is set in front of the pugilist. The grin doesn't abate, her picking up her chopsticks and inhaling the concoction with uncouth fervor. Somewhere in there is a garbled flick of her hands towards Tlanexhuani: "Peace. Nest."

She gives a wave back to Simony as she's polishing off the bowl, letting it clack down with a heavy sigh. "Hey Simony. I'll take both if you're offering. Why might I have good timing? Some more bullshit afoot?" <Handspeech/Tongues>

After he straightens, Tlanexhuani catches the flicking hands. They aren't so significant on their own, but the fact that he gleans meaning from them is. He blinks once approaching to return the greeting, now recognizing both Simony and Telamon in rapid succession. "Peace on your nests," he offers them all. "Is good day for good food?"

Telamon sighs. "If I'd known you were going to lose that much hair... wait." He pulls his haversack around. "I always make a jar of this stuff... ah, here it is." He pulls out a simple earthenware jar, wax-sealed. "Use some of these, it'll make your hair grow back in its normal color -- unlike Perriman's." He tilts his head to Simony. "Ask Simony, she can testify as to how well it works."

He nods to Tlan. "A good day for food, and some successes... but also some worries." He picks up his bowl, forking up another wad of noodles and eating before he continues, "Simony, a while back you told me about when you were sent to Fort Lancing? There... seems to have been a new development in that."

Simony turns to look over her shoulder, offering the Azure sith a wave and smile. "Hello Tlan, good to see you again so soon!" She busies herself with pouring both Aryia and Tlanexhuani a small cup of sake. The bowl of noodles arrive shortly afterwards, and set before Aryia, with the Goblin speaking to the Oruch in a mashup of trade, Goblin-talk and Khazad. He grins at her, rubbing his fingertips together. "Oi, such cheek, I have the coin and you know it!" He guffaws and nods, the pan already sizzling and popping with another order of noodles.

"Good timing, Aryia, in that my suggestion.." Her sentence trails off, and she laughs, gesturing to Telamon. "I had mentioned before a tincture... that stuff, when applied sparingly, will get your hair growing out in only a few days. Sparingly! Unless you want hair long enough to wrap around the block." Mony cackles noisily, before shoving another bundle of noodles. Her laugh dies though, at the mention of Fort Lancing.

She slams a hand onto the countertop, making everything on it dance around dangerously. "I KNEW I should have burned the place to the fucking ground!" The fact that Telamon has not said what the development is... telling.

Aryia holds up a hand to Telamon's offer and shakes her head. It seems like all the damage has been cut away, as the worst of the scarring is on one side, as the other was covered from invisible walls of force. "I've seen it in action before, braided Simony's hair. I appreciate it, but no thanks. I'm satisfied with how it turned out. Besides, I have time to let it grow out."

She gives a sharp nod towards Tlanexhauni, smirking. As if to answer his question, she raises her given sake, and downs it in one go.

With a new bowl of foul noodles set before her, she takes a better pace of it, listening with a quirked brow. One that only climbs higher at Simony's outburst. <Handspeech/Tongues>

Tlanexhuani's head tiltes at the mention of the familiarly-named fort, but it isn't until Simony's ire that the memory comes into focus. He blinks once, slowly. "The corrupted place, with controlled warriors?" He looks from Simony to Telamon. "What is new?" he asks with growing concern. "Warriors not recover?"

Telamon doesn't jump when Simony smacks the countertop. Instead, he moves to stabilize the bottle of sake, and the platter of sauces. "You did all you could," he says firmly to Simony and Tlan. "What my team discovered was that Urvis made for an abandoned watchpost near the Charn border. Alexandros had stored some things there and evidently forgotten about them during the unpleasantness with the werewolves. Including the remains of Lancet... which Urvis managed to resurrect."

He smirks faintly. "Urvis used a geas to prevent her from taking action against him, but evidently that didn't extend to being his bodyguard. Rune told me as soon as they busted down the door, she teleported out faster than a noblewoman finding out Jovani was running a sale."

GAME: Simony rolls strength+9: (8)+1+9: 18

Anger doesn't usually cloud Simony's expression, or her thoughts, but it gets away from her here. Breathing noisily, she grips the countertop at the mention of Lancet, and her resurrection. "THERE IS A REASON!", she says through clenched teeth as the stall rattles a little. "That rites are performed!" A bowl of noodles is placed down nearest Tlan, the Oruch proprietor gesturing at Simony. He then whacks at the Goblin's fingers with a wooden spoon. She glares at him, and her hands slowly release the countertop.

"She must be put down. In my mind, what she does is akin to necromancy, and must be stopped. And now that this abominable technology is released unto the world, we're going to have more of it. THIS is BARBARITY and the height of STUPIDITY!" Despite the anger, tears begin to roll down her cheeks.

Aryia listens, quietly slurping down noodles between words. A long ear flicks with each bit of information. A fort being corrupted and controlled? Memories come back of infiltrating a different fort deep within Charn. Her other brow joins the first. "That's pretty fast, I wouldn't blame the nobles for sprinting for once with a sale like that," she opines, aware of others in her field of craft.

Simony's frustration draws the pugilist's attention. Her gaze narrows, picking up her bowl briefly to keep it from wobbling about.

A scarred hand reaches out to rest on Simony's shoulder. "Save your anger for later. For now is the time to simmer. Breathe," she gestures firmly, like she was back in the Colosseum training the Temperance. <Handspeech/Tongues>

Tlanexhuani dips his snout to the proprietor to acknowledge the food, but his attention is far from the bowl of noodles. It is upon Simony, and his tail shifts from nervous flicks to drooping to the ground at her reactions. "Will find. Will stop," he assures softly leaning further on his spear to extend the other arm and claws towards her. "Know little before, not prepared. Stopped them still. Now know, prepared."

Tossing caution to the wind (as he's been known to do), Telamon grabs Simony's hand. "It's tragedy, yes, but it's one we can stop, Simony. Please... listen to Aryia. Breathe." He keeps holding her hand, until her temper settles. He doesn't expect it to cool.

"One of the adventurers I sent did bring up the question -- is this the Lancet you had to kill, or is it one from before she became the monster? It's a good question. We know nothing about her prior to Fort Lancing." He sighs heavily. "And she may not be able to do what she did before. The report said it looked like they were trying to set up the watchpost the same way Fort Lancing was enchanted, but it wasn't working right."

The anger remains, bubbling just beneath the surface, her expression speaking volumes to this face. But the Goblin does begin to cool off at Aryia's words. Her eyes go wide when her hand is taken, and it turns, taking hold of a few of Telamon's fingers. She squeezes, once, and far more gently than she did the countertop.

A long shuddery breath is let out, and replaced with another. "It is so fundamentally wrong, I cannot begin to put words to how angry I feel. It scares me. How .. relieved I was that a person was dead. That I had a hand in it, and I did it so easily."

"And now I hear that this horrid person has been returned. And put to the same task for which she had been ended for previously. That such equipment still existed in such as state as to be reconstituted its previous working state? Even if faulty? It should have been destroyed. Her body should have been burned away to ashes, and buried, given the proper rites so that her spirit could move on to whatever lay ahead for her. As it is meant to be."

Simony reaches out then, to pat at Tlanexhuani. "You were there, and you are right, we know now, we can stop it again. But... this is not being done under controlled circumstances."

She looks to Telamon. "Alexandria isn't responsible this time around, right?" Her hands ball up into fists, knuckles cracking.

Aryia pulls away as the others offer peace, her leaning against the counter. Glancing to Tlanexhuani, she can't help but wonder how a clearly out-of-Alexnadria makari got caught up in all this.

She quirks her lips off to the side, drumming her fingers in thought. "Relief in death is found in what death is prevented due to it. At least this time around, you'll be able to properly sanctify it."

She looks at Telamon. Alexandria responsible for last time? "Do you need me to level something?" she inquires off handedly. <Handspeech/Tongues>

Tlanexhuani straightens up again and goes quiet now that Simony is (mostly) calm. He knows some of Lancet, but not where they might go or do. Maybe they are not the same as they were, as others spoke, and there is no danger... but he is not hopeful enough in this to suggest it aloud.

Telamon runs his hands through his hair, before picking up a cup of sake and knocking it back. He blinks at the heat and intensity, but he doesn't cough, instead shaking his head. "First off, there's no equipment. The team that collected Urvis stated they had a lot of old supplies and books, but none of that gods-awful stuff Lancet was using for experiments." He snorts. "Second... I'd be amazed if Urvis learned -anything- from Lancet. That little rat-bastard thinks of wargolems as tools and objects. He probably revived Lancet just so he'd have someone to pontificate to."

He rubs his temples. "Honestly, I want her found. If she suddenly decides to go for round two on 'playing god' we need to be able to step in before she ruins any more lives. But no... Alexandros didn't have a hand in this. The whole thing started with the Alexandrian government trying to come up with new tactics and concepts to fight Charn, and... sadly, it went very, very wrong for them. Hence why Fort Lancing was cleaned out and decommissioned."

The Goblin reaches for her cup, and downs the sake without so much as a blink.

"We only have it on their say so that it's been decommissioned. I do not know if I trust them. The idea is unsound to begin with. This is a matter not of 'if we can do this' but 'should we'? The answer is a resounding no."

Simony pulls a few coins from her pouch, setting them on the countertop for the proprietor. She hesitates for a moment, before adding a gold coin to the pile.

"I do apologize for my outburst. The news caught me off guard. Please enjoy the rest of the noodles, and the sauces." She gestures at one, a green paste, "This one is a very nice spice, but quite strong. Horseraddish. I think you might like it, Tlan. Perhaps you as well, Aryia." A breath is exhaled and inhaled. "I am no longer polite company at this point, so I shall take my leave."

Simony makes to go.

Aryia glances between the others, shaking her head at someone thinking that wargolems were anything but fully fledged folks. That bit has a particular soft spot for the pugilist.

She eyes the paste, taking some for herself before giving a small wave goodbye and a gesture of thanks. The mute watches her go. "Sometimes the best way to deal with a situation is to leave it for later," she signs as the Temperance leaves eyesight. "Been there far too many times."

She chews her cheek, looking back at Telamon. "This sounds fucked. Thisa situation that requires me, or should I send people your way?" The paste is thrown into noodles. A large bite is taken. A hiss escapes her, followed by a grin and another daring bite. <Handspeech/Tongues>

Telamon watches Simony leave, his expression dour. But he doesn't push away from the counter. "I knew she'd react like that," he says as the gobber priestess heads off. "Fort Lancing... was pretty bad. Mutated people, undead, all sorts of things we get called upon to remove. And now the architect is back, thanks to an idiot dwarf with an ego the size of a mountain."

He adds a little mild hot sauce to his noodles, before continuing to eat. "But yes. She needs to think, not react. And there are still other inmates out there that need to be collected." His face hardens. "As I told the team I sent after Urvis, these aren't some third rate dropouts from the University. The list I have is of people who if they aren't recaptured, will probably cause a hell of a lot of mayhem before someone like you or me comes in and fucking kills them stone dead."

Aryia sharply nods. "I think I heard about it through scuttlebutt. Pretty fucked, even up there with stuff we've done." She looks back down to her nearly empty bowl, grimacing as she slurps down the oppressively foul concoction.

"I'll send any folks I come across in the Colosseum that I trust to help you then," she adds to the pile of coins Simony left, turning to face Telamon and Tlan as she crosses her legs. "More than just stone dead between your or me. I've moved past giving second chances for morons." She shrugs one shoulder. "Call it cruel- but I've had too many situations where just capturing someone results in them getting out and doing more. If you need me, it'll be a finality."

She smirks. "So I'll just send folks to you instead." <Handspeech/Tongues>

Telamon sighs. "I don't -like- doing it that way. But we've all got our own tasks at hand. And... it's the same reason we baited out that fey bastard Legus'elain. At some point you have to ask if you want to leave the mess to someone else, or deal with it yourself." He pours another cup of sake. "As unpleasant as it is, I'll take the latter. I don't want to kill them, but I will."

He takes a deep breath, and then smiles at Aryia. "Anyone you trust would probably be good. There's a number of scary people out there. If you like, I'll try and annotate my list to give you an idea of who we're looking for." Tel taps his chin. "I don't think any of them are working together besides a couple here and there, so that's something in our favor."

Aryia pours out another sake after Telamon does, her downing it once more and huffing through her nose. "Hesitation has led to many issues in the past for me," she signs. "So I mind not cleaning the mess myself. But that's a matter of philosophy for discussion at one in the morning when sleep depravation sets in, not at a noodle stall in the middle of explosion town," the mute snickers.

The scarred mul nods once, getting up and tapping the countertop. "Send it to my office in the Colosseum, if you don't mind. I'll take a gander and nudge people towards you. Strike now, and they won't rub two thoughts together before that couple becomes a party."

She rolls an arm, stretching. "Been out of coaching for a bit to heal up after the scorpion shit. Despite that, I'm feeling pretty fantastic. So expect to see my team in some upcoming tournaments if you're wanting some entertainment." <Handspeech/Tongues>

Telamon finishes his noodles, though by the end his face is a trifle flushed from the heat. "Lana's already wondering what the hells I'm eating," he mumbles with a little grin. "Hold on..." He tilts his head, listening, before chuckling. "Anyways. Yes. I'll have the list sent over."

He looks at Aryia quizzically. "Did you imagine you'd be training new fighters, and that I'd be helping recapture evil spell-slingers, when we first met years ago? Because honestly, I definitely didn't expect it." He shrugs lightly. "Guess that's life for you. It sometimes throws surprises into your lap. Wonder if I'll be getting a land grant or something next..."

He adds a few more coins to the tab to pay off the food and drink. "Let's get to it, then."