059: Nothing but the dead of night back in my little town

[Sierra]

<El-Cideon> With a blink, Aria transports you back to the open skies of Azure. After a moment of weightless panic on Marina's part leads to familiarity with subjective gravity and then glee at the freedom of flight, the group tracks down Ione at her museum/asylum to turn over their borrowed, blighted adventurer into the medusa's care.
<Franceska> "Should we check in once in a while?" Franceska confirms with Ione. "Or will you contact us in case there is any change?"
* Julia floats around with a more efficient economy of movement, the novelty of flight having worn off by now. Indeed once they reach the museum she simply defaults to walking once more, idly enjoying the sculptures and paintings while Franceska hashes things out for transferring Brijid into the medusa's care.
<El-Cideon> "I'll let you know if there is any progress," Ione says, "though if her friends wanted to visit once in a while it could hardly hurt."
* Franceska nods curtly. "If any that you are unfamiliar with do stop by, please contact us over that as well."
<Steph> Stephanie has taken to spinning a coin on her finger, keeping her fingers busy whilst her mind wanders.
<El-Cideon> "Have you any other business in Azure before heading home?" Aria asks once back outside.
<Franceska> "Anything we say will be an excuse to avoid returning, so no."
<Julia> "Yes, nothing I can think of," Julia agrees. "Not that it isn't a nice place I'd enjoy visiting again, mind you."
<Steph> Stephanie shakes her head. "We'll need to drop back later to catch up with Vigilia and the Furies, I imagine."
<El-Cideon> "Ah, there is one thing I should like to ask Vigilia's little friend before we leave," Rosemund adds in.
<Franceska> "Alright."
<Steph> "Do you want to ask in private?"
<El-Cideon> She shakes her head. "It is not about me!" she insists.
<Steph> "Ok! Ok."
<El-Cideon> The Union temple is emptier than you're accustomed to it, and a somber air is about the place as you wend quiet corridors to find Vigilia and her minder meditating quietly in one of the gardens. Rosemund's question to the little archon is indeed not about herself at all: "Ah, excuse me little one, but I was wondering if, next time you went home, you could ask about a person for us? A, ah, an acquaintance of ours had a historical question about a priestess named Griselda Harcourt."
<Julia> "Oh! Good thinking!" Julia applauds Rosemund.
<Franceska> They were actually doing this? Well, if Rosemund wants to....
<Steph> Stephanie completely forgot about that, to her shame.
<El-Cideon> The little orb of light gyrates in the air. "I am not familiar with the name," it says. "But I would be happy to make inquiries the next time we are on Celestia. Which might need to be very soon," it adds in a tiny voice. "What did you need to know?"
<Steph> "The, ah, late Ms. Hardcourt seems to have become a malevolent fog, residing in the Abyss and tormenting demons with guilt."
<Julia> "Yes, we'd like to do something to help free her from the Abyss and go on to her just reward," Julia quickly adds, as the other explanation doesn't have much to engender sympathy with any celestial.
<Franceska> "No one deserves to be stuck in the Abyss," Franceska says, agreeing with that part.
<El-Cideon> "Are you certain?" the archon says, skepticism evident. "That does not sound like a place for a proper priestess to linger...but, if anyone deserves a proper scolding, it is definitely those wicked demons!" it admits.
<Franceska> "Not certain. Thus, asking for information."
<El-Cideon> The archon bobs up and down in what might be taken for a nod. "I will see what I can find out. Do I have permission to have a Sending transmitted to someone when we have got back home?" Rosemund nods. "Alright!" the archon beams. "Asking questions is the least that I can do after all your help."
<Steph> "Do you have a name?" asks Stephanie.
<El-Cideon> "Tiel," the archon says. For her own part, Vigilia adds, "And please let me know when you're all prepared for your next journey. I feel a need to be of more genuine assistance than I have been here," she adds grimly.
<Julia> "We'll have a few things to take care of back home but once we're ready we'll let you know," Julia assures the recently charmed paladin.
<El-Cideon> "Is that all?" Aria asks back outside. "I've never been to your hometown, but give me a proper enough description and I should manage a reasonably precise proximity."
<Franceska> "Do we want to arrive outside it?"
<Steph> "Amaranth? Oh, I've got a depiction of the gates!" says Stephanie, rummaging around in her bag and producing a couple of rolls of parchment. "And a map, in case I need people to deliver things to me. My father has this cottage not far outside with two chimneys, because he built it himself and wasn't sure which side he'd put the hearth on. He was better at cutting people than cutting wood."
<Julia> "I think arriving outside would be best, preferably if it's dark," Julia admits, thinking of how she's going to sneak Battersby and company home.
<El-Cideon> "I've no notion of what time it might be there," Aria admits. "But I believe I can arrange to have you there some ways outside the city," she adds, examining Stephanie's maps. "Is everyone prepared?"
* Franceska glances over at Rosemund, and then nods.
<Julia> "We'll need to collect Battersby and Ron and everyone," Julia says. "Can we actually bring everyone?"
<El-Cideon> Rosemund, with a somewhat dejected air, wrangles her wings and tail under a cloak and dons a magical hat to render her eyes the more familiar human shade.
<El-Cideon> Aria counts up those present. "I think I can just about manage, if one or two of your servants could remain behind and be called over by you later?"
<Julia> "I'll leave Maeander and Thing then," Julia says. "I can just summon Thing and Maeander isn't really all that good."
<Steph> "Doesn't need to be good, just needs to be there," affirms Stephanie. "Big ol' pile of bones with a pointy thing is all the distraction y'need."
<Julia> "Thing, can you send Maeander into the abyssal portal while we're gone?" she asks her familiar. If she breaks control over him she doesn't want him around lots of nice people at the time. "Don't worry, every foe is a potential pile of bones!" she assures Stephanie as Thing goes off to send Maeander on his last hurrah.
<El-Cideon> "I could bring him by tomorrow if you wish. I suppose I've some preparations to make in town myself before formally embarking on my own journey. I hope with some persistence and good fortune to stumble upon an instance of our foes preparing to make one of their abductions, so that we might lie in wait for them instead. I will contact you should I find such an opportunity."
<Julia> "Well if it's not any trouble certainly. Thing!" she calls her familiar, "Never mind that." Turning back to Aria she says, "I'll put Maeander under your control until then, then."
<El-Cideon> "Of course." To the skeleton, a sharp command: "Stay put and do not cause any trouble until I return! Now then--" Aria collects the rest of the group together and, with linked hands, utters a spell to shift worlds--your surroundings transition instantaneously and again you find your feet planted solidly on the earth. You are outside a small cottage with two chimneys, in a wooded glade. It is deep night and the light of stars and a full moon peeks through the tree cover. "This is satisfactory?" Aria hopes, lookings around.
* El-Cideon changes topic to 'Current planar traits: none! | '
<Julia> "Oh, this is excellent!" Julia beams. "I can fly Battersby right over to my tower with no one being the wiser."
<Steph> "It'll do!" replies Stephanie, nodding at Aria.
<El-Cideon> "Your talents are unappreciated by your countrymen?" Aria surmises.
* Franceska shudders, and asks Rosemund, "Do you want to go straight home, first?"
<Julia> "I've never actually put it to the test," Julia admits, "But Amaranth is not nearly so cosmopolitan as Azure."
<Steph> "The knights tend to take a dim view," admits Stephanie. "Cuthberts are the worst."
<El-Cideon> Rosemund nods. "Er, I would like to go the temple too, at some point...but in the middle of the night I think might not be the best time. I think I should really go home and tell Auntie Leah what happened. There is no real best time for that, so at least we can get it out of the way..."
<Franceska> "Yes, we should get it out of the way."
<El-Cideon> "Good fortune to you all, then," Aria says before warping herself back home. "You've earned my admiration whatsoever corporeal form or unusual talents you might adopt." Then she's gone.
<Steph> Stephanie claps her hands. "Well. This way," she says, starting towards Leah's place.
<Julia> "Alright. Leslie, there's a tower on a hill that way," Julia points the direction for her more intelligent minion. "I want you to fly up over the town and then land besides it. Battersby, you follow Leslie," she gives orders for her minions so that she can stick with Rosemund. "Oh," she says, just remembering, "I need to find out what Thing was doing with Friday before I summoned him earlier.
<Julia> I hope they haven't caused too much trouble..."
<El-Cideon> Rosemund leads the way home in sullen silence. "Perhaps I should wait outside?" Marina asks quietly as you wend through silent city streets. "This sounds a very personal matter and I'm not familiar with Rosemund's aunt myself..." The sorceress is all eyes at the rows of townhouses lining Amaranth's streets, and steps gingerly along the cobblestone road as if never having seen either mark of civilization before.
<Julia> "I expect she'll be very... concerned," Julia agrees. "It might be best if you wait outside so as not to draw her concern towards yourself."
<Steph> She's going to kill them, Stephanie thinks.
<El-Cideon> "Of course," Marina says. "I'm sorry to intrude. ...Ah, will it be safe outside? You hear such stories about the perils of human cities. Or at least I always did."
<Franceska> "Don't go with anyone who offers you to," Franceska tells her. "There is nothing here that can menace you unless you let it."
<Steph> "Leah lives in the safe part, don't you worry," replies Stephanie. "Did you want to experience the peril of human cities? I'll take you out to Dusktown later!"
<Julia> "It's only perilous if you're physically feeble and lack magic," Julia says. "And if you stay close by you'll be fine."
<El-Cideon> "I'm not certain I'm in the market for peril right now," Marina admits. "I'll stay put." Rosemund arrives home, finds the door locked as it should be so late at night, and fiddles nervously with the house key.
<Franceska> "Would you like me to open it?" Franceska offers Rosemund.
<El-Cideon> Rosemund nods, hands it over and steps back, looking downcast.
* Franceska uses the Knock spell to get the door, and steps in. Holding it open, she waves Rosemund inside.
<El-Cideon> Rosemund takes a few nervous steps inside. There are no lights on within. Rosemund rectifies this through the usual expedient of lighting up her mace. "Ah, Aunt Leah?" she calls out timidly once everyone's inside and the door's closed. "We--I am back home." There's no immediate response from upstairs.
<Steph> "She's a wizard, so she probably sleeps deeply," mutters Stephanie. "Should we go wake her or just stay over tonight and wait until morning?"
<Franceska> "I'll go take a look," Franceska says, heading upstairs after surrounding herself with purple faerie fire.
<Julia> "I'll need to go home before sunrise so I can get Battersby and Leslie inside," Julia points out, hanging back while Franceska suicidally goes upstairs.
<El-Cideon> "I do not know if I could sleep all night knowing what I have to show her in the morning," Rosemund says. "I know it would be rude to wake her up, but I could not sit in bed all night thinking about it!"
<El-Cideon> The upstairs doors are all closed. Immediately on the left would be Rosemund's, second on the right Leah's. The remainder, from memory, are guestrooms. Despite her words, Rosemund displays no particular eagerness to follow Franceska.
* Franceska knocks on Leah's door, before opening it a second later.
<El-Cideon> There is no response and the door is unlocked. Leah's bedroom is austere and without much extraneous debris save for books and assorted magical paraphernalia. It is also empty, the bed carefully made and untouched.
<Julia> "Is your aunt a morning person, Rosemund?" Julia asks, figuring this will affect their survival chances if she's cranky when she wakes up.
* Franceska frowns, checking the floor for dust. If a layer has gathered there, it might suggest Leah hasn't been home in a while.
<El-Cideon> "She maintains a very precise schedule," Rosemund confirms, looking upstairs uneasily.
<El-Cideon> There has been some time for it to settle, Franceska can observe.
<Franceska> "Rosemund!" Franceska calls down as she checks the other doors. "Use a Sending on your aunt. Ask her where she is, and if she needs help!"
<Julia> "Yes, if we help her then she can't get too mad!" Julia smiles in relief.
<El-Cideon> The other bedrooms are empty. Rosemund's retains its usual compliment of frills and flowers, though the latter have withered from lack of water. "Oh, of course!" Rosemund says, concentrating for a moment.
<El-Cideon> Upon completion of the spell, she frowns. "There is no response. But that could just mean she is asleep or, or I think the spell could fail if she is on another world, though I do not see why she would be."
* Franceska summons just enough water to save those plants that can still be saved, before she heads back into Leah's room and searches for her diary or anything that might pass for helping her keep her schedule.
<Steph> "Who are her friends? Could we ask them?"
<Julia> There's also another possibility, but Julia doesn't raise it. She does feel guilty now for her initial gratefulness of Leah's absence though! "We'll have to try that, and ask around in the morning."
<El-Cideon> Franceska finds a journal buried in Leah's desk about the same time that Rosemund pokes around the ground floor rooms and announces from the kitchen, "Oh! There is a note here."
* Franceska flips through the journal to the last entry, while listening to Rosemund.
<Julia> "Oh, what's it say!" Julia asks, following after Rosemund.
<El-Cideon> Rosemund reads out loud for everyone to hear. "Rosemund: I have gone to Solanth to make quiet inquiries about our Missing Person. Should you need to find me, I seek lodging with Countess Evergreen on pretense of personal visit with old friends etcetera. I hope you keep well on your travels, all my love--Leah Harbinger." Rosemund looks up. "It is dated a few weeks ago, just after we left town before."
<Julia> "Then there's time to get you fixed before she returns!" Julia cheers.
<Franceska> "We should contact her in the morning all the same," Franceska says, pocketing the journal and heading down.
<Steph> "I agree. Do we know how to do that, by the way?" asks Stephanie.
<El-Cideon> "I can just try again," Rosemund says, her expression a mix of various shades of relief.
<Steph> "She'll be awake in the morning, so let's wait."
<Julia> "And I can try and summon Opal and wring some answers out of her in the meantime," Julia says.
<Franceska> "It sounds like a plan," Franceska says, glancing at Rosemund. "Do you want to stay with me?"
<El-Cideon> "I do not know if I would want to sleep in an empty house my first night back home, so...thank you, I believe that I will," Rosemund says.
<Franceska> "You can stop by around noon?" Franceska offers to Julia and Stephanie. "It might give us plenty of time to get Sendings and summons out of the way."
<Julia> "That's fine, I'll head home now and get to work," Julia nods, taking her leave.
<Steph> "Mmm? Oh, yes. Noon," replies Stephanie, starting after Julia. "I was going to check up on some stuff myself."
<El-Cideon> "Everything went alright?" Marina says out in the street as Julia and Stephanie go their own separate ways. "I didn't hear any yelling, but I do notice we're not staying at Rosemund's house..."
<Franceska> "Her aunt left for the capital a few weeks ago," Franceska fills Marina in. "So the two of you will be my guests, if that is quite alright?"
<El-Cideon> "That is quite alright," Marina says agreeably with a friendly smile. Franceksa finds her long-neglected companion Darrin minding the door at her house, perhaps unsurprisingly given the avian's nature.
<Franceska> He has her utmost trust, and so she believes her affairs are in order. She offers Darrin a curt nod, and then steps inside to look for Grey.
<El-Cideon> Given the hour, it should be little surprise that Grey is asleep in her bed, though she wakes almost instantly from the slight noise of Franceska stepping in to check on her. "Oh--Miss Durant?" she says sleepily from her bed before sitting up. "I am sorry, I did not know that you were home. What is it that you need?" she asks dutifully.
<Franceska> "Two rooms prepared for the night for my guests," Franceska tells her. "I apologize for the short notice, but different planes follow different schedules."
<El-Cideon> "Of course, milady," Grey says, hustling off in her nightgown to do as bidden. Marina quietly suggests for Franceska's ears only, "It could be one room if your prefer."
<Franceska> "It could be," Franceska responds, once Grey is gone. "How long do you think you can stay?"
<El-Cideon> A light laugh. "Well, as you could imagine, we don't keep much in the way of strict schedules on Arborea. I wouldn't mind some time to become a little more familiar with your country, truth be told. Why, my parents came from Solata, in a manner of speaking so did I. I suppose I should know it better, yes?"
<Franceska> "I'll be happy to show you around," Franceska offers, finding herself admitting, "It's not as bad as I often say. At least, considering where we've all been to...."
<El-Cideon> "I can't imagine," Marina says, shaking her head with a tumble of crimson curls. "Really, I can't. Today is actually the first time I've properly left home, you know. I'm so sad about what happened with Rosemund. I don't know--will she have trouble finding acceptance here as she is now?"
<Franceska> Franceska grimaces. "The temple should be easiest, really. Just have someone use a holy spell on her, and when it does nothing it just proves what their god thinks about Rosemund. I doubt they'd go against his decision? Her aunt... she might honestly try to kill me, but Rosemund herself should be alright. It's the rest that are a problem, and if the government gets involved it would be a
<Franceska> pain."
<El-Cideon> "Government?" she jests. "You know, we really do get along quite fine without those on Arborea. Perhaps you should consider our example?" Grey returns from showing Rosemund to her room and bows to Marina. "If I could show milady to her quarters?"
<Franceska> "I suppose I should hold some modicum of faith in our lawfully-appointment government," Franceska muses. As Grey responds, she tells her, "I will take care of that. That will be all for now."
<El-Cideon> "Of course, milady," Gray says, returning to her room with a parting bow. "Your chambermaid is very dutiful and polite," Marina observes.
<Franceska> "We broke her out from a slaver's home on Fire and then I offered her a job," Franceska elaborates, leading the way to her room. "The planes really are horrible. Still, Grey seems comfortable enough? And I do want someone to look after my house when I'm away."
<El-Cideon> Marina steps close and snakes an arm around Franceska's back to rest on her hip as she walks. "I suppose you'll tell me all about these horrible things in time, but at this moment I sense you're well due to be reminded of the joys to be found at home. Late as it is, let us take some time to relax properly...before you have to face young Rosemund's fearsome aunt," she says playfully.
<Franceska> "I'm sure I can manage to forget my troubles all for a time," Franceska relents, smiling at Marina.

<El-Cideon> ~

<El-Cideon> Upon arriving back at her tower after a long absence, Julia finds that her home security has been augmented by a modest army of skeletal cats. Not majestic beasts of prey, bane of forest and jungle, but ordinary housecats, reduced to animate skeletal form. They seem ready to attack until an abashed command from Thing settles them all down.
<Julia> "Thing, where did these come from?" Julia asks patiently, glad Aria hasn't visited.
<El-Cideon> Thing's explanation is an impressively vague demonic evasion along the lines of Oh, Here and There.
<Julia> "I see," Julia says although she really doesn't. Still, it's the matter of a quick rebuke undead to place them firmly under her own personal command before she gets them all to hide in various spots where they could ambush any intruders from stealth. Then it's a case of squeezing Battersby inside and stuffing his gigantic rotting bulk inside the main foyer before she descends to the lower
<Julia> levels with Leslie and Thing in tow. "Also, where did you leave Friday? Not outside the tower I hope?"
<El-Cideon> Thing relates that his last instruction to Friday was to balance upside down atop a candlestick on the dining room table supported by one finger until his return. Ultimately this proves to be of excessive stress on said rotting arm, which at some point obviously fractured from the strain.
<Julia> A quick about turn takes them to the dining room where application of negative energy restores Friday's arm to function if not appearance. With a mental note to give the table a good scrubbing she adds the succubus to her retinue and descends to the mostly unfurnished lower reaches of the catacombs beneath her tower. Then it's a case of carefully drawing out a magical diagram before feeding
<Julia> a dimensional anchor and magic circle against evil into it and then commencing the work of summoning the demon known as Opalneswynthax before her.
<Julia> OOC: DC 23 will save if 12 or less current hd, otherwise immune
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+3
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20+3 and gets 5."12 [1d20=2]
<El-Cideon> What emerges within Julia's summoning circle is a pathetic spectacle of demonhood: a small, hunched figure, some scant feet tall, with oily green skin, elongated arms and one large, unblinking eye. The figure looks up at Julia, appraises her carefully. "Know you?" it asks uncertainly.
<Julia> Julia sighs and palms her face. "When we last met you were a great deal more imposing," she tells it. "Do you recall what you were before?"
<El-Cideon> The pitiful little dretch concentrates deeply. "Something...*beautiful*..." it manages at length in powerful mixed tones of awe, reminiscence, and bitter vindictiveness. "What...what happen?" It looks down at one of its long, clawed hands, blinking in confusion.
<Julia> "That's your mission to find out," Julia decides she's not going to get anything good out of it in this state, but she can make a tiny investment and see if anything comes of it. Reaching into her bag she produces a small black onyx which she hands off to Friday for the zombie to grind into powder. Once that's done she adds a pinch of grave dust to it and addresses the dretch. "You turned a
<Julia> friend of mine into a succubus. For eternity will you search for the means to turn her back. Even death will grant you no succor." And so she calls upon a terrible geas, forcing the dretch to do as she says. And if it dies in the attempt, it will merely re-animate as a ghast (no doubt an improvement) and continue its probably futile mission.
<El-Cideon> "Succubus?" The dretch tries the word out. "Remember succubus. Pretty. Very pretty. One day..." It screws up its lone eye on you. "Friend lucky. Should be happy. But maybe one day I take the evil out of her, put it back into me." With an air both hopeful and tinged with low spite for being forced into the task of assisting another, it hisses sibilantly: "Yeessss."
<Julia> "Convey the information back to me by whatever means at your disposal," Julia allows before banishing the demon back to the abyss. Hopefully it doesn't end up in the middle of a devil invasion force, but she has really low expectations on this bearing fruit anyway.
<El-Cideon> With a gleam in its eye, the minor demon vanishes back to the depths from which it was called.
<Julia>  And now she may as well go to bed and try and reset her sleep schedule!

<El-Cideon> ~

<El-Cideon> Stephanie finds Thela at the drow's shop in the morning. The dark elf, still operating under her blonde forest elf disguise while in Amaranth, is busy poring over account books upon Stephanie's arrival.
<Steph> "Good day," says Stephanie, walking towards the shop and folding her arms behind her back.
<El-Cideon> "Ah, you're back," Thela says with a curt nod on looking up. This appears to be her closest resemblance to a familiar greeting. "Everyone home all in one piece?" she says, with the air of making conversation.
<Steph> "Briefly," replies Stephanie. "You know, they tell you about the cruelty of demons- the torture, their wanton reckless violence, the nonsensical games they play- but they don't tell you about the fucking rain in the Abyss."
<El-Cideon> Thela raises an eyebrow. "No, they do not. I suppose you're about to tell me? What in all the hells possessed you to go there in the first place?"
<Steph> "Gold, what else?" replies Stephanie, snorts. "Gold and a friend was stuck there. The rain? It's like oil. Gets all in your hair and up your nose and it feels like you've got cold, clammy hands all over you, under your shirt."
<El-Cideon> "All compelling arguments to seek profit elsewhere," Thela says drily. "But you emerged mostly uncorrupted, I'd gather, and one hopes with the lesson to maintain friendships with people prone to losing themselves in less disagreeable planes?"
<Steph> "Mostly, sure," replies Stephanie, with a shrug. "Not much more fun than killing a demon, besides! It's a fucking carnival if you pick the right place." She peers at Thela. "So what's happened on your end?"
<El-Cideon> "We've arranged for regular caravans to relieve Peridot's notable lack of style and taste with Prime fashions--clothing, food, spices, whathaveyou--with our men bringing back fine jewelry and armaments for sale in Solata. Split between yourself and I and various guild partners after deductions to fund future expeditions, you immediate profit amounts to some six thousand gold. We should expect as much on a monthly basis, recouping your initial investment within two more. Of course, I had to play rather a backseat playing guide and give Amaranth guild representatives the lead within Peridot itself. My name may still be remembered there." She frowns, a seemingly natural expression for the homely elf. "I suppose I should have changed it when I established myself here, but it's bad enough masquerading as some light-skinned floozy."
<Steph> "You could try being a dark-skinned human," replies Stephanie, snarkily. "Or a tiefling."
<El-Cideon> "One step at a time," she insists, ignoring the rebuke and lightly fingering one pointed ear as though taking comfort from maintaining at least that much of her familiar form. "I should rather be myself, of course, but sometimes one must settle." She looks at Stephanie carefully. "I wouldn't wager you've had the easiest time of things yourself? Demonic couplings are a matter of course among my people, naturally, but I gather them much less common among humans."
<Steph> Stephanie loosely reaches out to play with her tail for a moment. "It's alright around here," she says, eventually. "The nastiest of the real zealots had, uh, accidents, and the church of Pelor is far more accepting. At least here- it's different beyond Amaranth. I think I did enough good work- and got enough orc scalps," she adds, grinning- "That Stephanie Sundown is alright, as far
<Steph> as tieflings go." She pauses. "But it's pretty harsh when someone wants to kill you just because of what you are. But hey, if you're a merchant, you need to smile, smile!"
<El-Cideon> "I once learned to consider a smile a subconscious warning of ill intent," Thela points out. "You'll pardon me if it takes time to reinterpret the gesture, I'm sure."
<Steph> Stephanie shrugs. "You're not far wrong, but smiling makes you happier," she says, uncomfortably. "If you go through life getting angry because some people are idiots, you'll end up all twisted inside." She frowns, and looks away. "I don't understand. Why do people try and be with demons like that? On purpose? It's insane. I know that, well, it can be hard to resist a succubus, but that's
<Steph> just another form of rape-" She shivers for a moment. "Never mind the others. Just, why? How can it be enjoyable at all?"
<El-Cideon> "I'm led to believe some of them possess extraordinary skill in the arts of the bedchamber." She shrugs. "I wouldn't personally know. If my elder sister pronounced something desirable, I called that sound reason not to indulge. I'd prefer properly subordinate partners, thank you. You know, the sort you needn't magically compel just to ensure they don't take your soul back home with them."
<Steph> "Hmph. Is it always about domination and submission?"
<El-Cideon> "I know of no other relation between women and men," Thela admits flatly. "Such has been my sole experience. You'd lecture me otherwise?"
<Steph> Stephanie flushes and looks away. "Not on drow customs."
<El-Cideon> "All that said, I begin to ache for a new partner," Thela admits. "My consorts were killed in the course of liberating your mindless charge. I've not been with a man since arriving here for reasons which should not require elaboration." She taps her hat. "It is a subject of some frustration."
<Steph> Stephanie kicks a rock down the street. "I'm waiting to meet someone worth marrying."
<El-Cideon> "Is that so?" Thela sounds genuinely amused. "You remain untouched? How do you bear it?"
<Steph> Stephanie looks briefly stricken, and then snorts. "I think of that unicorn I always wanted."

<El-Cideon> ~

<El-Cideon> In the morning, the party regroups at Franceska's house as Rosemund prepares to attempt another Sending. Grey bustles about bestowing tea and other beverages upon any parties desiring them.
<Steph> "We can retire!" declares Stephanie, pushing over a case of gold bars to Franceska.
* Julia happily indulges in some tea after taking a seat. "The merchantry is paying off, then?" she observes, seeing Stephanie's new riches.
* Franceska blinks, and quickly tallies up the gold in her head. "Were we really gone that long?" she asks Stephanie. "Or did it take off much better than we expected?"
<Steph> "Yeah. It's not like the vast riches we're accumulating by slaughtering fiends, of course," muses Stephanie, before glancing at Franceska with a shrug. "The business itself has gross earnings over over twenty-five grand a month," she says, seriously. "This is what we get after expenses and paying out the other shareholders. Interplanar trade is fucking ridiculous. I should've done this years
<Steph> ago!"
<Franceska> "I really might retire after all," Franceska mutters.
<Julia> "I'll have to get into your next venture. Summoning interplanar creatures is grossly expensive if you have to rely on wands for half your spells," Julia muses. "Opal is now a dretch, by the way."
<Steph> "The earnings will probably drop off once someone else gets into the game," admits Stephanie, before she blinks and glances at Julia. "Actually, I was thinking of hiring you to provide some security for the caravans," she notes. "Can you rent out zombies?"
<El-Cideon> "She deserves it!" Rosemund exclaims, before recalling her good manners. "Not that anyone at all should be a demon, I mean..."
<Julia> "I don't see why not," Julia says agreeably. "Anyway, Opal couldn't remember much so I just put a geas on her to find out and sent her back. It's unlikely to pay off but it doesn't hurt to try."
<Franceska> "She was one already, so she definitely deserves it," Franceska agrees. Paying Julia her undivided attention, she asks, "Do you think that is a dead end? Or might it lead to a clue?"
<Steph> "Can you do that to any demon?" asks Stephanie, sounding interested. "Hey, there's a thought! Jill Cook works for devils, right? Can you just summon them all away and geas them to help us?"
<Julia> "I have little faith in a dretch's investigative abilities," Julia tells Franceska. "But with the correct names I can certainly try," she adds to Stephanie.
<Franceska> "It might be possible once the Furies provide us with the information about them," Franceska muses.
<El-Cideon> Once she's got a proper breakfast in her belly, Rosemund sits up and announces, "Alright, I am going to try and contact Aunt Leah again. Give me a moment here--" Rosemund closes her eyes, concentrates for the spell, and ultimately terminates her focus with another frown. "She still is not answering."
<Steph> "Can you contact her friend?" muses Stephanie.
<El-Cideon> Rosemund shakes her head. "I do not know her. The spell only works on people that I have met."
<Julia> "That is worrying..." Julia frowns, "Shall we go and visit Solanth?"
<Steph> Stephanie grimaces, and nods. "Yeah, we should. Let's go hire a mage to teleport us."
<Julia> "No need, I still have a scroll for it," Julia says, reaching into her bag for it.
<Franceska> "We did business with a wizard while there," Franceska recalls. "Can you contact him and ask to look around? We could reimburse him for the trouble. Or-- well, we still have a pair of teleportation scrolls, don't we?"
<Steph> "Oh, good!"
<Julia> "Shall we go now, then?" Julia asks. "I'll leave my other minions at home and just take Leslie, since the rest aren't very subtle."
* Franceska stiffens, before she says, "I'm glad to hear that. We'll aim to visit in a week or so."
<Steph> "Yeah, let me get my coat," replies Stephanie, briefly glancing curiously at Franceska.
<Julia> "Did you get a Sending?" Julia asks Franceska.
<Franceska> "It always feels so strange," Franceska confirms. "In any case, the Furies are waiting for us when we have the time to return."
<Julia> "Our calender is getting quite packed, isn't it?" Julia says. "Anyway, I'll go home and tell Thing to wait for Aria when she comes by with Maeander, pick up Leslie, and then we can be off?"
<Franceska> "Do you want to stop by the temple before that?" Franceska asks Rosemund.
<El-Cideon> "Er, yes, that would be very nice. If--if we have the time for it," Rosemund amends nervously.
<Franceska> "It has been weeks, so a few hours shouldn't change much if we're teleporting afterwards."
<Steph> "Well, I'm going." declares Stephanie. They'll be nicer if they think they won't receive generous tithes should they be nasty.

<El-Cideon> ~

<El-Cideon> Splitting up to deal with some lingering personal business before departing as a group for the capital, Franceska sets out for her country house to fulfill a promise made in the Abyss--along with Rosemund for the ceremonial necessities, and anyone else interested in being present for the event.
<Julia> Julia is merely curious and has no other pressing engagements!
<El-Cideon> Rosemund is quiet as the group trudges along quiet forest roads--though if anything, she seems less unsettled being away from the city crowds. It's a pleasant enough day for it, with an early hint of spring sending cool breezes through yet-bare branches by the roadside.
<Franceska> "Is there anything I should do?" Franceska asks Rosemund. "Aside from providing the components for the spell?"
<El-Cideon> "Choose a very good place for her to come back," Rosemund says after some consideration. "Her tree will be there for, oh, possibly hundreds of years?" she speculates. "So make sure that it will be in the sun!"
* Franceska nods after some consideration. "Yes, offering to cut down the neighbouring trees so that she could get enough sun would probably be taken badly." She glances over at Marina and Julia, asking them, "Would you know what else dryads might like?"
<Julia> "Lots of nearby animals, maybe a nearby pond?" Julia hazards. "Is there much space behind your house to other trees? I doubt she'd want to be somewhere too exposed either."
<El-Cideon> "As nice a view as you can arrange?" Marina suggests. "As Rosemund points out, she won't be moving anytime soon. You are realy making her a member of the family, aren't you?" she adds after some consideration. "She'll be watching over the house long after you've passed, when your children or grandchildren have inherited it..."
<Franceska> More like a live-in gardener, Franceska muses. "Something like that. So an empty spot, like a clearing? And a pond... I think there might be something on the grounds, plus there is a river further out."
<El-Cideon> Marina nods. "If you ever sell the house...well, perhaps you shouldn't. Perhaps it should just devolve to her if you find yourself without heirs at the end of your life," she suggest delicately. "I'm not sure they properly understand the idea of ownership--" Marina herself sounds uncertain on the topic, "--but just so long as no enterprising soul in the city thinks to try and dislodge her, yes?"
<Franceska> "My property goes to Rosemund so it would be alright," Franceska assures Marina.
<Julia> "And I'll keep an eye on her from time to time," Julia says, assured in her own pending immortality.
<El-Cideon> It's mid-afternoon by the time the party arrives, straggling along an ill-used dirt road. The house itself is sturdy and not flamboyant by city standards.
<Franceska> "No one should really come here, judging by the reputation of the house," Franceska elaborates on the property's better parts. "It also seems to be in good condition, although it would need someone to stay here and take care of the upkeep." She purses her lips, and then heads east away from the house itself. "I only visited the grounds the once, but there was a clearing just up ahead that
<Franceska> should suit our purposes. While lacking in a proper pond -- that's farther away -- there was a small stream and sufficient wilflife."
<Julia> "Sounds nice," Julia says, walking along with Franceska. "A shame my tower doesn't have much above ground living space for gardens and such. Maybe I should look into how they do landscaping on Earth?"
<Franceska> "An indoor garden would be able to use up all the space properly, wouldn't it?" Franceska muses as she leads the way at a comfortable pace. "You could hang plenty of plants on the walls and from the ceiling."
<El-Cideon> "I think that it was mostly dwarves digging things up," Rosemund recalls. She fiddles with her hat a moment. "Er, no one minds, do they?" she asks. "Only there is no one else around so I should like to stretch my, um, my wings."
<Julia> "Assuming they could grow with artificial light, yes," Julia nods. "Mushrooms or something... oh, by all means Rosemund."
* Franceska looks uncomfortable, but ends up nodding herself.
<El-Cideon> Rosemund removes her hat and cloak and stows them both away, then with a look of evident relief flexes and flaps her wings. "It is more comfortable not pretending," she admits. "Although that is not to say that not pretending is very comfortable either."
<Julia> "It must be difficult adjusting to having new limbs," Julia agrees.
* Franceska glances at Marina, before asking, "There are no objections to looking for ways to help with that, Rosemund, are there?"
<El-Cideon> Rosemund nods to Julia. "It is!" she admits. "I cannot sleep on my back now and I keep sitting on this tail and some day I just know that something will get caught in a door." To Franceska, she asks uncertainly: "What kind of help?"
<Franceska> "Transmutation magic."
<El-Cideon> She shifts nervously. "I am not sure," she says. "I have been transformed once already!"
* Franceska nods curtly. "We know that it works, so since divine magic doesn't help, it makes sense to try it again."
<El-Cideon> "Perhaps," she says without evident commitment one way or another. "I, ah, would like to try flying around some before I decide anything."
<Julia> "It needs to be a true change though. If it can be dispelled to put you back like that or seen through with true seeing or the like it adds complications of its own," Julia adds. "Since it was a true change that made you like that though, it must be possible to do the reverse."
<Franceska> "Of course," Franceska agrees to Julia, and picks up her pace unhappily.
<El-Cideon> "That is true," Rosemund adds as she follows along behind Franceska. "If it becomes apparent that I am pretending to be, you know, a normal person, then that looks even worse. People become suspicious, you know, if they find out that you are hiding one thing, they must think it is for even worse reasons."
<Franceska> "A solution of hiding something is a bad one," Franceska agrees once more. "It has to be properly decisive, which means permanent."
<El-Cideon> Rosemund just sulks at that until Franceska settles on a proper site for the resurrection.
<Franceska> The forest is not so dense that they have to struggle to walk through it, and it does indeed clear up as Franceska had said earlier. A stream crosses it, birch trees growing right on its very shores, and in the distance it splits into two, creating a small island one could hop onto if they're reasonably athletic. "So how does this look?" Franceska asks, looking at the clearing with a clinical
<Franceska> eye. "It could use more sun, but other than that...?"
<Julia> "Looks nice to me," Julia gives her vote of confidence.
<El-Cideon> "Ah, the island or the shore?" Rosemund asks to be clear. For her own part, Marina adds: "Dryads are bonded with oak trees. I'm sure she'll outgrow her neighbors in time."
<Franceska> "I think the shore looks nicer," Franceska says, not really wishing to live at either spot herself. "Oh, and good thinking! She'll have something to look forward to, then!"
<El-Cideon> "Alright!" Rosemund says, more cheerily with the prospect to do some good before her. "I will need her remains," she adds, as tactfully as possible. "Oh, I hope that this will work. She is a tree and a person, maybe it is more complicated than bringing back a person?"
<Franceska> "So long as we give it a reasonable try, it would do," Franceska asserts, before passing over the bloody tree branch. "I remember when she died and how, so we should have all we need to make the attempt?"
<El-Cideon> Rosemund accepts it with a nod. "Well, give me a quiet moment here and I will do my best," she resolves. "Oh, that is unless anyone wished to pray for her." She looks over the group skeptically, not knowing her friends to be the praying sort.
<Franceska> "Pass."
<El-Cideon> "I will leave it to you," Marina says gracefully. "I like to think that I make every day a prayer."
<Julia> "I don't know which deity covers dryads," Julia says apologetically.
<El-Cideon> "Alright," Rosemund says with a nod. "Well, they are made to live in the sun, I am sure that Pelor will help." She bows her head and intones a fluid appeal in Celestial; sets the bloodied branch upright in the ground and sprinkles a handful of ground diamond dust over it; and adds in Common for everyone's comprehension, "Lord of sunlight, please take pity on this poor soul slain before her time. Your humble servant beseeches you to return life to her forest sister so that she might live and walk in the light for the just remainder of her natural days. Please return Alunoriel to us so that she might know a happier, sweeter existence than that which came before." (more)
<El-Cideon> With an audible crackling and growling of accelerated growth, the splinter of wood upright in the ground extends fresh branches up towards the sky, thrusts new roots into the soil, and shortly acquires the height and breadth of an immature oak tree somewhat shy of the dimensions encountered by Franceska in the Abyss. It is neither the most robust nor sturdiest of trees, but once the heightened growth crawls to a stop, it is at least with the promise of fresh leaves sprouting from the new branches, in sharp contrast to the sickly nature of its former self imprisoned within the labyrinth. Momentarily, a humanoid shape is outlined vertically along the trunk of the tree and is gently extruded in the form recognizable to Franceska as Alunoriel--the rest greet for the first time a woman of slender, elfin proportions, with skin reminiscent of tree bark and hair a mane of healthy, fresh green leaves. She settles onto her knees on the ground and opens bewildered amber eyes to look around the clearing and her saviors.
<Julia> "That was very well said, Rosemund," Julia compliments her friend before greeting the dryad, "Hello!"
<Franceska> "Welcome to my home," Franceska greets her, giving the dryad a curt nod. "Are you feeling alright? Has your memory started to return to you?"
<El-Cideon> The dryad climbs to her feet. "Where am I?" she asks first. Then: "Who are you? I am..." She frowns thoughtfully, appearing uncertain on this last point. She looks uncertain about Rosemund's appearance. "I can only beg you to ignore the horns and, and the everything else," Rosemund says quietly. "It is a passing curse--but Pelor knows that I am still the same person, that is why he helped me call you back to us." Rosemund herself sounds heartened by this. The dryad nods awkwardly, seeming more distracted with the questions pressed upon her. "I am...Alunoriel?" she tries out the name, decides it sounds right. "I have pieces," she says, searching her thoughts. "You could assist, I hope?"
<Franceska> "The same demon that cursed Rosemund kept you in a cycle of death and forcible rebirth," Franceska summarizes for her sake. "You were being tortured with a weapon designed to hurt you and Styx water was used to attack your memories and personality. The two of us made a deal, where I said I'd get you out of that dungeon in the Abyss and bring you over here, to my country home." She purses
<Franceska> her lips. "That demon is dead and, what, a dretch now?"
<Julia> "Yes, and probably a ghast within a few days," Julia supploes helpfully.
<Franceska> "There is some manner of satisfaction in its death, although it was sadly quick." Franceska gives a helpless shrug. "Out of my hands, I'm afraid. You couldn't really remember much beyond the present when we talked, but it sounded like you would like my home from my description of it to you."
<El-Cideon> "This feels true," Alunoriel decides. "Forgive me, I retain mostly fragments, moments of pain and darkness in alternation. I do not know how properly to demonstrate my gratitude in a human fashion, but please know that I will remember at least this kindness for all of my days." She steps forward and gives each of her saviors a friendly hug before stepping aside to look around her new home. "It does please me," she says with a heartfelt smile. "I should not have thought to ever see the sun again," she adds, sounding close to tears as she looks up and stretches her arms to the sky.
<Franceska> "I am assured you will see much more of it when you grow properly."
<El-Cideon> "Ah, whose house is that?" she asks curiously, catching sight of Franceska's country retreat. "That is a house is it not?" she adds. "I have never seen one. It does have the look of being...constructed," she tries out the word.
<Franceska> "Mine," Franceska repeats patiently. "I have a proper residence in town where I stay, and I seem to travel a lot lately as it is, so you should be fairly undisturbed here. Unless you want to be? Do you like human company?"
<El-Cideon> "I do not remember," she says. "Perhaps I never knew many, or the memory is lost. I will have to learn about you anew either way."
<Franceska> "That makes perfect sense," she agrees. "I am Franceska, Alunoriel. Franceska Durant. These are Julia, Rosemund and Marina."
<Julia> "Franceska is very nice, I'm sure you'll be good friends," Julia says in support of her friend after she's introduced.
<El-Cideon> She nods to each in turn. "Thank you, each of you. Words cannot capably express the good that you have on my behalf. And Rosemund, please know that your actions testify to your spirit more powerfully than your mortal facade." She looks at Franceska. "So you and I shall share a home forevermore. It would please me to do whatever I could to brighten it for you. Let me know if any of your plants should ever misbehave and I will soon have them properly in line!" she promises.
<Franceska> "I look forward to it," Franceska tells her.
<El-Cideon> Rosemund looks abashed at the praise, accepting it with a blush. Alunoriel steps to her tree and rests a hand on the trunk. "We'll be strong and proud again soon, I feel certain of it," she promises the youthful oak with a beaming smile.
<Franceska> "Thank you," Franceska says quietly to Rosemund, adding her own gratitude to the dryad's praise. "I wouldn't have trusted anyone else with this."
<El-Cideon> "I was only doing what was right," Rosemund insists with quiet modesty.
<Franceska> "All the same," Franceska insists, before raising her voice again. "Alunoriel, if there is anything you need to grow back properly, just let me know."
<El-Cideon> The dryad looks up from her tree. "The sun and the rain," she says. "We are back on the Prime, yes? Both should be in abundance? Ah, but the occasional gentle breeze or pleasant conversation would not go amiss if either is within your power to provide."
<Franceska> "It is the Prime, yes. We are in Solata," Franceska asserts. "And I could indeed provide either. As for when I'm absent, I shall have to see to it that my maid pays you a visit once in a while."
<El-Cideon> "And I should be grateful for either," she acknowledges with a smile. "Ah, 'maid,' that is a servant position?" she surmises from human terminology vaguely remembered.
<Franceska> "Yes. It cannot possibly take all of her time to care for an empty house, so it should be easy to arrange."
<El-Cideon> "Oh, please do so," Alunoriel asks. "I should learn everything I could about my new home. Or relearn it, I suppose. I called another forest home once, I know not where or when, but it is an unspeakable relief to find myself within one again."
<Franceska> "Can you tell much about it?" Franceska asks, now curious. "Anything about the dangers in it? Or, well, if any elves are living nearby?"
<El-Cideon> "Oh, but aren't there elves in most forests?" she presumes. "I shall look around so far as I can, and ask the other trees. A forest should not be such a danger to a human, so long as she minds her distance from any wild animals."
<Franceska> "It often seems that way," Franceska agrees neutrally. "Ah, and I forgot to ask. How far can you go from your tree?"
<El-Cideon> "Oh, not far," she says with an apologetic air. "I do not know your precise human measure for it." Marina supplies: "Scholars estimate about nine hundred feet."
<Franceska> "That's not so bad," Franceska muses. "Alright. I'll try to visit within the month? I might even bring someone over to introduce you to."
<El-Cideon> "I look forward to it," Alunoriel says warmly.

<El-Cideon> ~

<El-Cideon> As the rest of Stephanie's group sets off to Franceska's country home to deal with some personal business before leaving the city again, Stephanie finds herself with an afternoon to spare. It's pleasant enough a day for checking in on old acquaintences, with the chill of winter starting to give way to the cool breezes of spring.
<Steph> Today, the first person she wants to call on is Allister; quite aside from being curious at his other paintings, she has a commission that she needs to attend to- and most likely, she'll need to hang around for the initial sketching to make sure he gets it right...
<El-Cideon> The undead painter lodges in a secluded and modest apartment located for him after his retrieval from Arborea. Upon entering, Stephanie finds the residence bedecked with sketches and unfinished vistas of Amaranth streets, captured from a somewhat mournful perspective--they all seem to be night views, with the rare human inhabitant rendered a fleeting and distant shadow. The artist himself is contemplating an empty canvas when Stephanie arrives.
<Steph> "What's up, dead man?" Stephanie asks, making her presence known with a knock on the doorframe. "Yeah, the nightlife has nothing going for it around here, huh?" she remarks, peering at one of the landscapes.
<El-Cideon> Stephanie can recognize a broad swath of Amaranth's streets, quiet residences, civic buildings, and seedy alleys all. A night view of the village green looks quite a barren place with no festivals afoot or children at play. "You will forgive the nocturnal fixation, one hopes," Allister says. "I judged it unwise to venture out in daylight. I will endeavor to infer the true character of the city from these base observations later."
<Steph> "The true character of Amaranth? It's one of those rare places where what you see is mostly what you get," muses Stephanie. "High piety, low crime, marginal intolerance of outsiders, and so much wholesome festival fun it can give you hives," she says, grinning.
<El-Cideon> "Most of which things are difficult to portray without the city inhabitants," he says. "Those prone to go about their business at night are oft a less wholesome sort, yes? But, they are a part of a city's ecosystem as well, though most might choose not to see them."
<Steph> "Haha! They're such lightweights compared to most places I've been," replies Stephanie, grinning anew. "If I settle down I'll settle down here. Maybe I'll open a bordello, lower the good-taste quotient a little," she muses, thoughtfully. And all the guildsmen will breathe a sigh of relief. "Oh! I'm not only here to see you, I want to hire you to do some portraits," she adds. "But not of me. Of this warrior chick
<Steph> Grinda. Think you can do it if I describe her? And, uh, I want to get them in bulk," she adds.
<El-Cideon> "Tell me everything you can about this woman and I shall labor to produce a rendition faithful to life," Allister says. "One suspects you are less concerned with artistry than with verisimilitude?" he guesses from the latter qualifier.
<Steph> "Yep. I'm putting a bounty on her to make her life harder," affirms Stephanie. "So she's a human, but still, you can't really expect to find anyone else with her face," she says. "Something fucked up her face, so she wears an eyepatch and she's got all this scarring on the right-hand side. She's got this mean smirk, large forehead, a... longish nose. Thin lips, though, usually smirking."
<El-Cideon> "What is the nature of this scarring?" Allister asks, starting to scratch out a basic outline in charcoal. "Burn, cut, other?"
<Steph> "Claws. Multiple lines, right down her face," affirms Stephanie. "She's always going around in black armor, with his huge greatsword. Uh, with all of that she's a little taller-looking than me, but I think I've got an inch on her naturally."
<El-Cideon> "Chain or plate?" Allister asks, establishing an oval-shaped face with the specified rudiments. "Hair?"
<Steph> "Plate. Black as night," affirms Stephanie. "Black hair, not that long."
<El-Cideon> "Your quarry cultivates an imposing mien," Allister says, not sounding greatly impressed himself. "Will this do for an approximation of facial characteristics?" he asks, showing a rudimentary sketch. The arrogance of expression is particularly apt.
<Steph> "Yeah, she tries, but she's nothing more than a bodyguard when you get down to it. I guess it's their job to look scary, so they don't need to do their job?" muses Stephanie. "Hey, that's good!"
<El-Cideon> "I have considerable practice," he says drily, going to work adding a disheveled mop of raven hair.
<Steph> Stephanie blinks. "I guess you do," she muses. "Do you, uh, do anything except paint?"
<El-Cideon> "It is occasionally necessary to observe the things I wish to paint?" he says, adding wryly, "Occasionally." More seriously: "But one presumes active civic participation might not be welcomed by our erstwhile countrymen."
<Steph> "Depends how willing you are to hide it," reflects Stephanie, sounding a little glum. "Most people are just dumb! You gotta give them time to get used to you, and, uh, I guess you have lots of that, huh?" She shrugs for a moment. "It sucks how most don't wanna look past the surface, though."
<El-Cideon> "It times time and patience to cultivate the proper perspective for seeing beyond mundane details," he says noncommittally. "More time than most working men have to spare."
<Steph> "Yeah, can't even blame them," says Stephanie, amiably. "Most people are weak and stupid but you gotta love them anyway."
<El-Cideon> "It is a more constructive approach, is it not? One could hardly expect to motivate them to aspire towards better through mere condescension." He puts the finishing touches on what should be an approximately useful rendition of Grinda: portrait, profile, and full-body picture.
<Steph> "Yeah. I mean, it's not even their fault. Most everyone I ever talked to was just born into what they do, somehow or other," reflects Stephanie, nodding at the painting. "I mean, before you know it you're fifteen and you've already started doing what you're gonna do for the rest of your life. The priests tell you what to think, the knights tell you where you're allowed to go, and the wizards tell you about the things with
<Steph> which you must not meddle."
<El-Cideon> "And the kings do what they like." He stands up. "Ah, I have a portrait for one of you companions, if you should not mind delivering it to her?"
<Steph> "Oh? Sure. Which one?" asks Stephanie, curiously.
<El-Cideon> "The young Miss Astin," he says, trudging to a cabinet and retrieving an unframed canvas. "Queen of Eternal Repose." Like in Stephanie's portrait, Julia is rendered nude, although this image is unlike to titilate anyone. The necromancer here has attained her ultimately desired state--withered, dry and emaciated, yet eternally undying. She stands by a sickbed in a dimly lit bedroom; an old man lies on the bed, swathed in blankets, skin thin and white as parchment. Looking up, he reaches for Julia's hand in relief; she takes his with an expression of tender mercy despite the ravages her undead state have wrought upon her mortal facade.
<Steph> "Oh, that completely sums her up. She's all nice and happy to talk to but the things she does are just so undeniably weird," agrees Stephanie, nodding. "Alright, I'll drop it at her place after I do my rounds today. Hey, are you gonna paint Rosie and Franzy, too?"
<El-Cideon> "In time," he says.
<Steph> "Hmmmmm." Stephanie cricks her neck. "Did you ever do a self-portrait?" she asks, curiously.
<El-Cideon> "You know," he says with a dry chuckle, "it had never occurred to me."
<Steph> "I'll go buy you a mirror! My present," replies Stephanie. "Uh, can I just roll up the canvas or should I go get a frame?"
<El-Cideon> "It is meant to be framed," he says stiffly. "My apologies for not arranging this in advance."
<Steph> "Ok, I'll be back this afternoon!" replies Stephanie, waving. "Cheerio!"
<El-Cideon> Going about her business in the artisans' quarter takes Stephanie close to Thela's shop, and a call from behind as Stephanie passes by shows that the disguised dark elf was in fact looking to tie up some unfinished business with Stephanie.
<Steph> "Oh, Thela! What's happening? Got more of the good stuff for me?" Stephanie says, sauntering towards the stall.
<El-Cideon> "I'm not sure," she says, producing a fist-sized gemstone, unevenly faceted, colorless and perfectly clear. "That it would be considered valuable I have no doubt. That we should actually sell it, I am less certain." She hands it over for Stephanie's perusal. "Look closely within it."
<Steph> Stephanie peers over it for a moment, and then brings it close to her eye.
<El-Cideon> With careful focus, Stephanie thinks she can perceive images inside--just flashes, as they are loath to linger for extended perusal, but there are clear impressions rendered from a first-person perspective of, variously: a knighthood ceremony, mortal combat with an orc, passionate lovemaking to an elven maiden, and a funeral on a wintry day. "There was a side cavern full of these in the illithid's cavern," Thela explains. "I slipped away to retrieve one while our partners handled ngeotiations in Peridot."
<Steph> Stephanie blushes heavily. "H-hey, you should've warned me!" she says, withdrawing it.
<El-Cideon> Thela raises an eyebrow. "I don't know what you saw," she says with a shrug, "for I don't always see the same things myself. Although there are some recurring themes, somewhat like--" she gropes for a proper summation, "--pictures of a life, yes?""
<Steph> "Yes, that's what I thought. Which would mean... you know, this was an Illithid, maybe it was stuffing memories into the crystals." Stephanie turns it around in her hands, and then looks down through a different facet.
<El-Cideon> "This was my conclusion," Thela says, adding as you examine the gem: "The gems were stocked next to the dragon's den. It was my impression that he would eat them." Turning the gem around, Stephanie can catch additional glimpses of a family dinner from the obvious perspective of a child, a fancy noble ball, striking the target at an archery tournament, and a rain-soaked ride across a barren countryside.
<Steph> "The dragon? That dragon." Stephanie wrings her hands for a moment. "How hard would it be to steal them all?"
<El-Cideon> "There were a hundred or more just lying about," Thela says. "I didn't have time to count. But the dragon doesn't appear to have come back from whatever errand you sent him on, so I'd say it's just a matter of slipping back with a bag of holding the next expedition I take to Peridot." She purses her lips thoughtfully. "I am certain they could be sold for a considerable sum, but I presumed that as my partner in this venture you would have...moral objections." Thela obviously struggles with the concept.
<Steph> "Well, duh." Stephanie turns the crystal over in her hands. "Could be souls in these things. Brigid's, for that matter," she reflects. "I'll reimburse you for your trouble."
<El-Cideon> "I'll consider it a favor owed?" Thela suggests. She nods to the gem in your hands. "Keep that one. Perhaps your friends will have some idea about it. These arcane things are not so much my area of expertise."
<Steph> "A favor? If you want," replies Stephanie, pocketing the gem. "That they might. Though the royal knights might be interested in this one," she reflects. "This guy got a high elf into bed, can you believe it? Knights!"
<El-Cideon> "It hardly sounds an accomplishment to me," Thela says, adding with some incredulity: "This is to be a source of envy?"
<Steph> "Yeah, but human boys have a complex about it. They're always going on about the elves they can't hook up with," swears Stephanie. "And if someone manages it, you'd think they won a fucking medal the way the others carry on."
<El-Cideon> "Is that so?" Thela says with an intrigued air. She fingers a lock of her presently blond hair with somewhat less than the usual air of distaste. "Well, this is a world of opportunity you've suggested to me, Stephanie."
<Steph> "You've been here for a while, right? There aren't many elves who show up on a regular basis. I'm sure they're already talking about you," replies Stephanie, holding her hands behind her head.
<El-Cideon> Thela taps her chin thoughtfully. "Then I should find out what they're saying," she says. "I find that liquor greatly facilitates this process. I should have myself a night on the town." Thela gives Stephanie a sidelong glance. "Do you indulge, or are you also saving yourself for the proper intoxicant?"
<Steph> "Uh, I haven't been sober for a long time."
<Steph> She pauses. "It makes the voices stop," she adds.
<El-Cideon> An equal pause from Thela before: "'The voices?'" she echoes.
<Steph> "The voices. It's a tiefling thing. Doing bad things makes them stop, and so does alcohol! So when I'm not adventuring I'm drunk," she affirms. "But sure! Let's go out! I know the right places!"
<El-Cideon> "Then I shall yield to your expertise," Thela says with grace and something approaching a smile.
<El-Cideon> ~