Ain't no thing like me, except me.

It's Variday, Aestry 18 19:35:33 1018. The full moon is up. The tide is high and rising. The sky is grey and cloudy, and nothing casts a shadow. It's hot, humid, and still.

A09: Banks of the Tornmawr

Overhead, the Highbridge spans. Here is a pleasant enough bank, if one does not mind the ship traffic amid the broad and winding Tornmawr. A few picnicers spend their time here and a few blankets are present. Many of them are craftsfolk and other "ordinary" people, as well as a multitude of tired river sailors here on break. Or, the watchful husbands and wives of sea-sailors. To the south, the great river empties into that great expanse.

Yelrona, having returned to balance practice on the bridge after the Reosian cart took off, is dragging herself to shore after the inevitable eventual fall off of it. She's rather getting to enjoy that fall.

Ga'Elian watches as she falls. He and Erithamiel had been eating on the riverbank, watching the ships go by.

Blauensturm steps his way down the bank and carries his 'cane' along with him. He looks to the ships and chuckles a little. Interesting. Trying to catch as much wind as possible so they may travel faster. Interesting notion."

Yelrona's face lights up when she sees griffin and wild elf on the bank. "Well, _you're_ certainly looking better!" she calls to Ga'Elian before she shakes herself dry-ish. "I came to visit last night, but you were sleeping. You... well, to be honest, last night you looked like something I would feed to Erithamiel here, but only if he'd been very bad. I'm glad we stopped that thing before it killed you." She turns around at the sound of the approaching golem, a little tense after recent events, but relaxes when it seems to not be attacking anyone. She's puzzled by his comment, though. "Yes, that's the idea...?"

Ga'Elian smiles at her. He starts to say, "My *undying* gratitude for timely finishing him, Golem-Sl...," seeing Blaunsturm approach, "uh, Rona. In any case, Sorscha visited me and administered enough divine healing, that the druid who came from the Ygdrassil Union to watch Erithamiel for me, instead finished the job. The attendants at the Soldier's Defense are great, but magical healing is faster." He winks. "Now, I just have to clean the blood off of my stuff."

Blauensturm looks at the both of them and....can actually 'guess' as to what's going on, despite his lack of emotions. "I am guessing that you encountered one of my lesser intelligent bretheren." She says turning to look at the both of them. "Correct assumption?"

Yelrona bursts out laughing at the nickname, and even blushes faintly. "I suppose I deserved that," she acknowledges, giggling a bit more before getting herself under control. She ducks her head at the golem's comment and replies apologetically "Well, yes and no. A flesh golem, and a particularly mindless one at that, which is rather like comparing me to a ghoul. I'm sorry."

Blauensturm says, "Do not be. If I attcked you, I would expect you to defend yourself. the same with my less intelligent bretheren. If he was attacking you, by all means, destroy it." he then turns his head towards Yelrona. "I applaud you, actually. it is rare that someone can bring down a flesh golem without sustaining a great deal of injury." he then looks to Ga'Elian. "Unless, If course, that damage were displaced.""

Ga'Elian packs his food away and stands up. He removes his quiver, and his weapons and lays them next to Erithamiel. He responds, "Oh, all of us sustained big injuries. You know an elf is hurt BAAD if he actually sleeps. I had internal bleeding, several broken or crushed bones and other wounds, but thank the gods, we're all fine now. I need to soak some of my things or I'll never get all this blood out." He makes to head to the water--without disrobing.

Yelrona nods in agreement. "As Ga'Elian says, we sustained a _great_ deal of injury. We would have all died a couple of times over, had it not been for rather a large amount of healing magic on our side. And I didn't bring down the golem in any meaningful sense, I just happened to deal the final blow. Most of the damage was done by Ga'Elian and others."

Ga'Elian wades into the river and standing knee-deep bends over and shimmies off his chainshirt. His tunic stays on due to the belt he's wearing, but he lets the armor drop into the water, and removes the belt then tunic. Amazingly, the belt looks brand new, as do the strange eyeglasses that stay on Ga'Elian's face despite the armor passing over them. When his torso is bare, a new tattoo is visible between his shoulderblades. He wiles the water off of the mysterious belt and wraps it back around his waist at the top of his trousers. After that, he bends down to start scrubbing the bloodstains in his tunic against river rocks.

Blauensturm nods to Ga'elian. "As long as you are better then." he then looks to Yelrona. "Sometimes the final blow is as important as dealing the most damage. If you hit something vital upon a golem, it will shut them down."

Yelrona seems faintly disappointed as the wild elf wades into the river, then intrigued when the chainshirt comes off. And not just for the usual reasons. "New ink, I see!" she calls out to Ga'Elian... "you'll have to show it to us when you're done." To the golem she nods and shrugs. "Yes. They are TOUGH, though! If it weren't for that poorly stitched seam I'm not sure it would have gone down at all." She pauses for a moment and adds "Do you know of any way to determine the identity of the mage who created a golem?"

(additional discussion of the flesh golem, while your humble scribe was disconnected)

Ga'Elian's griffon has been standing around a lot today, so he get up and walks down into the river next to his companion, who is still washing blood off of things. After they share an affectionate nuzzle, Erithamiel goes out into the deeper river to fish. Ga'Elian sets his flail and rapier, now washed, next to his armor and turns to scrubbing the tunic he had taken off earlier.

Blauensturm says, "No. If he's smart, he'll be expecting that. Just find the place, destroy the lab, make him make a new one, find him, blow him up, as well as the lab." he then taps his cane on a stone. "and he'd be the sort to offer surrender as a ploy.""

Ga'Elian looks up. "Yeah. blowin' the place up suits me, just fine. Such a place is a blight on nature."

Blauensturm says, "usually artifice can be a blight on nature. In this case it is, but if one is smart, it can.......mmmm....maybe not." he then twirls his cane. "it'd require careful thought for artifice to work with nature...if at all.""

Yelrona returns from a visit to the nearby woods for reasons known only to her, and her attention is caught by the tattoo on Ga'Elian's body, no longer concealed by his tunic. But she's also interested in the conversation. "I appear to have missed something important," she observes pleasantly. "Do we know how to find the person responsible?"

Ga'Elian lays the clean, but soaking tunic on the riverbank and comes up out of the water, his bloody pants now soaking wet, too, and grabs his quiver, that had been next to Erithamiel before the griffon went fishing. The quiver is utterly clean as well. He says, "I don't know, but I'm inclined to let others sort him out. Someone's been by the Guild or the Grey Lady's temple to report it, I trust?"

Blauensturm says, "Actually, Ga'elian....letting the temple of vardama know would be considerable help. They do have a militant faction called the Hunters of the dead......"

"Ah, sorry," Rona replies apologetically, "I thought that's who you were talking about blowing up." She shrugs in response to the followup question. "I don't know. We were more concerned with getting you into reliable medical care, to be honest. I think Sorscha dropped the gravediggers off at the guard, which probably involved a report to them as well as the Guild, and I assume the Vardamites heard about it, since they were basically the ones who hired us. What comes next, I have no idea."

Ga'Elian nods his agreement and says, "Well, good, then." and carries the quiver over by the water's edge where the rest of his stuff is laid out, drying. His pants being the only thing still bloody, he pulls them down and steps out of them then carries them back into the water where he starts to scrub them, too.

A small coppery racoon, whose eyes give off greenish sparks, comes out of the woods and approaches Ga'Elian's laid-out gear, mechanical nose twitching.

Blauensturm turns his head slightly as he looks to the raccoon. "Isn't that interesting...."

"Absolutely," Rona replies, though she's not paying attention to the racoon. "Where did you get the new tattoo, Elian?" Then she notices what the golem is referring to, and she sighs. "These things are _everywhere_! They're worse than mice in granaries. At least the mages say they know how to eliminate them now... that's something."

Ga'Elian watches as the thing scurries to his stuff. He walks up on the riverbank and asks Yelrona, "What tattoo? I have never marked my body, as you can see." He holds his arms out and spins around showing no marks at all anywhere upon his skin, except that tattoo in the middle of his back." He kicks the coppery away with his bare foot, but instead of it going flying, is merely dissipates in golden light. The naked elf suddenly looks stunned as his eyes glaze over momentarily. He drops the not-quite-totally-clean-yet pants and assumes a horrified expression and starts babbling in Abyssal.

Blauensturm watches as Ga'elian turns.....creepy.

Yelrona is bewildered by the wild elf's response... did someone else put the tattoo on him without his knowledge? Is he making what passes for a joke among wild animals? Is Rona herself hallucinating? But before she can pursue that further he is approaching the magitech racoon. "Be careful, they --" Rona starts when she realizes what he's about to do, but too late. And from the looks of it, the creature is affecting him much the same way the one she'd touched affected her. "Elian, it's all right," she assures him as she approaches him and tries to place a reassuring hand on his arm. "It's all right. It's not real, it's just... I don't know. Phantasms, memories, a message maybe, but it's not happening to you. You're here, with us, in Alexandros, on the riverbank."

Ga'Elian comes back to his senses and shudders, saying "That was horrific. Thanks." He stoops down to pick up his still-somewhat-bloody pants and walks back down into the water, the tattoo on his back still very much present. It is a stag looking up at a full moon.

Yelrona nods. "I know," she replies meaningfully. "I try not to think about it." Which, unfortunately, she's now completely failing to achieve, as Elian's reaction is reminding her of her own. She's torn between offering to talk about it, and asking him to please not ever talk about it, and splits the difference by returning her attention to the tattoo on his back, which he claims not to know about. "As for not marking your body -- trust me, Elian, the design on your back is not a birthmark. Trust me, I would notice: I've certainly spent enough time admiring your backside lately. Go find yourself a mirror and take a look."