If You Give a Faerie Dragon a Mountain Oyster

Log Info

• Title: If You Give a Faerie Dragon a Mountain Oyster

• Emitter: Telamon

• Characters: Ravenstongue, Telamon

• Place: University District - Shining Chalice

• Summary: Ravenstongue and Telamon are dropping by the Shining Chalice so Telamon can drop off a paper he wrote when they learn that one of the preferred snacks for a particular Chalice member has gone missing. Not content to let the young Chalice member, Tomas, be on the hook for missing snacks, Ravenstongue and Telamon get to work scouring the Chalice building. It's only when they go upstairs that they discover a faerie dragon is responsible for the missing snack! Poor little Jyndei is stuck in the mortal realm for now, so Telamon and Ravenstongue decide to keep him at home for now until he can be returned.

University District, late afternoon.

The weather has cleared after the other day, the rain having passed to a warm, pleasant near-autumn afternoon. This side of the University District is closer to the nobles' quarter, and it shows in the better housing and construction here. Two well dressed half-sils amble down the path, walking towards a familiar building with a sign on the front, a silver chalice.

"I just need to drop off some things," Telamon explains, his arm linked with Cor'lana's as they approach. "I promised Master Stiger I'd leave the paper I'd written up here for him to look over, since he's tied up with some things. I think Tomas is here to do some cleaning and restocking of the snacks and drinks -- it's his turn for it." He smiles at Lana. "I'm sure he's probably bored stiff from tending to things."

Cor'lana has chosen her nicest dress, of course--the one that Grandfather gave her, speculated to be an important dress that belonged to the very late woman known to Cor'lana as 'Grandmother' only by mention. She smiles cheerily at Telamon as he talks. "Well, it's been quite some time since they've seen me, so I think they all will be quite interested in my progress and growth as a sorceress. I have to say I'm sort of excited to see what they will think," she says, almost mischievously.

"Snacks," offers Pothy, who is riding on Cor'lana's shoulder. That's all on his mind, it appears.

"You and me both. I know Master Stiger had some... interesting commentary on his own development, back when he was more active." Telamon leads Cor'lana to the door. "It's really quite curious how talent develops. It's not at all like the measured study of wizards."

He raps lightly on the door, and patiently waits for it to open.

And waits. After a couple minutes, his brow furrows, his expression becoming puzzled. "I was sure..." He reaches out to knock on it again, when it's suddenly snatched open, causing him to recoil slightly.

Standing in the doorway is Tomas, his red and gold hair slightly askew and his face full of consternation. "Oh! Master Telamon, Mistress Cor'lana! Um...." He looks caught on the horns of a dilemma. "Can I help you?"

'Mistress Cor'lana' can't help but smirk a little. "Master Tomas, you have grown like a weed," she says teasingly--Telamon had mentioned some time ago the lad had grown a bit. "Well, we were here so Tel could drop off some papers... Is something the matter?"

"Snacks?" Pothy asks. Say there's not a problem with the snacks, at least!

Telamon raises an eyebrow at the lad, his expression inquisitive. "You don't happen to have a girl here, do you Tomas? I don't mind, but I hope you're taking care..."

Tomas turns almost as red as his hair, but he shakes his head, and lifts his chin. "No, Master Telamon, that's not till the week's end." The boy sighs heavily. "You know how Mistress Daneira likes those pickled mountain oysters? I had stocked some, I know I did, but now I can't find the jar anywhere."

Cor'lana tries her hardest to bite her tongue to keep from giggling at poor Tomas's expense. "Aww, that's wonderful you have a girlfriend, Tomas," she says. "I hope you're happy together."

"Snacks!" Pothy says brightly at the mention of oysters. The bird flaps off Cor'lana's shoulder and flies past Tomas into the room as he adds (in Cor'lana's voice, of course), "I'll help!"

Cor'lana just sighs with a smile. "Well, Pothy's forcefully volunteered to help, so that means I have to help him too," she says. "Let's work together and see if we can find the... pickled oysters. That's some odd taste, but I suppose there's truly something for everyone."

Telamon actually blinks. "Pickled... uh." He does a double take, then conceals his mouth behind his hand for a moment. "...Well. Alright. Why don't we help out, Tomas? I'm not going to bust your chops, and you're too conscientious to have mislaid it." Then Pothy goes zipping past, and he sighs. "...And it seems you're getting our help anyways."

Tomas actually looks a little relieved. "I've been going through the pantry, and anywhere else it might've gone. I brought them by yesterday, because I knew Mistress Daneira was hosting a salon in two days..." He backs up to let the two half-elves in.

Cor'lana steps in with Telamon--as not even pickled oysters will stop them from walking into places arm-in-arm if they are able--and she looks around the room, scanning the environs. "And oysters can be somewhat pricy, right?" she asks. "Did you make these for her, or did she make them, or...?"

"Recipe," Pothy says merrily as he lands on a chair. His tail wags up and down. He's clearly hoping that Tomas makes the pickled oysters by hand and that he can tell the bird how to make them... So that Cor'lana can make them later for him.

"I'm not making you pickled oysters," Cor'lana informs Pothy politely, but firmly. "That's a solid no."

The meeting house looks the same as it always does, though the pantry is open and half-unpacked, boxes and jars set on the table -- the results of Tomas trying to find things. "There's a merchant in town, he supplies the TarRaCe in fact, who deals in exotic foodstuffs. Ummm..." Tomas's eyes dart to Telamon, then he forges ahead. "They're a little pricey, but... well, she likes them."

Telamon sounds like he's close to laughing, though his voice evens out after a moment. "I admit it's unusual, but who are we to judge?" He inspects the assorted foodstuffs, scratching his head. Then, a gesture and a phrase: "Sisig bursag," and there's a shimmer in the air. "Begin repacking the pantry," he instructs the servant. "Well, when you've ruled out the obvious, it's time to look at the absurd. There's an upstairs floor in this house; I'll check there."

Oh, dear, poor Cor'lana. She just looks between Telamon and Tomas. "What? I mean, they're oysters. Right?"

Pothy just laughs his usual 'nobleman laugh' when he's having fun at Cor'lana's expense. Cor'lana just pouts. "Okay. Mean bird," she says with a huff before she goes to take Telamon's arm. "At least there's no jarred pig's feet," she says. "Upstairs we go?"

Pothy goes to 'help' the unseen servant with the pantry. By helping, he's actually looking for snacks.

Tomas looks like he's trying to find a hole to crawl into at this point, and so Telamon rides to the rescue. "Oh dear." Tel lifts his hand to his brow, desperately trying not to crack up. "Mountain oysters aren't oysters at all. It's a figure of speech."

Telamon takes a deep breath, fighting down the urge to giggle. "They're bull testicles, dear. Now, why don't we check the upstairs while Tomas, Pothy, and the servitor put things away." He pauses. "And Pothy, keep the pilferage to a minimum."

"They're bull--" Cor'lana cuts herself off as she, too, flushes a little. "Oh gods. Well. Mistress Daneira does have interesting tastes, then... But I can admire someone like that, to a degree."

Pothy protests, of course, that he's been told to keep his pilfering to a minimum. Those are some upset-sounding croaks that come from the raven. But he helps anyway, and Cor'lana goes up the stairs.

Telamon absently switches to Sylvan, as the couple head up the stairs. "These rooms are usually for when guests or members are here too late to get home at a decent hour. Sometimes, all you desire is the embrace of slumber, to face the next day refreshed." As they ascend, he furrows his brow. "I'm at a loss, queen of my heart. Tomas would not lie about this -- and he had fulfilled all his other tasks admirably. If the merchant didn't have any, he would've said so. So... who steals a jar of pickled.." He pauses, then snorts, switching back to tradespeak, "It appears I don't know the Sylvan word for 'mountain oysters'."

Cor'lana smirks a little. "Testes," she replies. It happens to sound a lot like the word for "eyes." "Or if you want to be funny about it, 'lower eyes', 'eggs'... There's about a few dozen synonyms for most reproductive parts in the language, and it comes with the territory of, well, being the language of the fey."

She also pauses mid-thought as Telamon brings up the point. "I don't think it was him that stole it. And while most members of the Shining Chalice are eccentric, I don't think they'd just stuff b... bull testes in their mouth. What are the chances that an animal got in? I mean, look at Pothy. He'll eat anything." <Sylvan>

GAME: Telamon rolls perception: (3)+12: 15
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Perception: (2)+4: 6

Telamon laughs softly. "Indeed, love. I have noticed that about the fey quite frequently." His starry eyes dance, as he conjures up a light to see better with. "But yes, this does seem rather absurd. I don't know about an animal though. Surely one would have--"

The rest of Telamon's thoughts are cut off as something piles into his chest, knocking him down onto his backside. A high-pitched voice can be heard, almost a squeak. "I'm saved! I'M SAVED! Oh, lord and lady of twilight, please, take me from this place, I'll never go snooping again!" The speaker is... a dragon.

More specifically, a small, orange-scaled dragon, with large luminous eyes, and strange butterfly wings, practically cuddling itself against Telamon's chest as it entreats them.

Cor'lana stops in place and her hands go up as she sees Telamon get knocked down to the ground. Her violet eyes flare with the beginnings of magic as her mouth opens to speak the first syllable--

And then the Sylvan words that the dragon speaks stop her. Her mouth presses together into a fine line for a moment as she regards the creature, hand still raised.

"You speak to the child of the Feathered One, stranger, and you are on top of my betrothed," she says, drawing on the style of wording that's safest to use among fey. "Please remove yourself from him. Were you hiding up here? Did you eat the bull's testes that were intended for one of the mortals who frequents this place?"

"Peace, queen of my heart. No harm has been done to me, and suddenly things become clear." Telamon looks down at the small dragon nestled against his chest, and carefully strokes its back, much as he did with Tanith. Tel looks up at Cor'lana. "The prior evening, there was a party here. We did not attend, as we were recovering from hunting the necromancer in the noble district. A great gaiety and joy to be heard... just the thing to lure in a curious fey creature."

The dragon nods, arching into the petting. "The mortals did not notice me slip inside, for the doors and windows were opened, and after I had eaten my fill I slipped upstairs. But then I found I could not leave, for all the portals were locked!"

"The meeting house's doors and windows are arcane-locked by the Chalice. And so our little friend here," Telamon tilts his head, "was stuck, and forced to fend for himself."

Seeing Telamon relax and pet the little creature, Cor'lana puts down her hands, the tension leaving her stance and her face--for the most part. She still seems a little guarded, but the longer she looks at those big eyes... the more sympathetic she becomes. "Poor thing," she murmurs. "Where did you even come from? There's not exactly a plethora of faerie dragons like yourself around here. Were you smuggled into the city?"

She reaches into her bag and pulls out a small amount of dried fruit. "They're not Grandfather's berries," she says, "but you might like them anyway. Here, come eat."

The little dragon sniffs at the berries, before starting to eat them carefully. "I came to pay respects to the princesses of the forest, my lady. But the dead walk, and we had to close the Way to Quelynos lest some find it. I have been fending for myself, but I have never been closed in before."

Telamon hmms. "Princesses... ahh. He means the dryads. They've probably got their hands full keeping any wight incursions at bay as it is." He looks to Lana again with a smile, before petting the dragon. "Why don't we begin again? Some call me Telamon Atlon, others the Lord Lúpecyll-to-be. This is my betrothed, who you may address as Cor'lana Lúpecyll, the child of the Feathered One. What may we call you?"

The dragon's eyes somehow get even bigger. "I have fallen into noble company," he squeaks. "You may call me Jyndei, my lord and lady. Please, will you at least take me from this place? I know it is a home of magi, and I do not wish to be a mortal's pet."

Cor'lana smiles at the little dragon. "It is lovely to meet you, Jyndei," she replies. "Let me get Telamon off the floor first, and then we can see about getting you out of here, hmm?"

She offers her hand out to Telamon. Of course, getting him up is a bit of a team effort, as Cor'lana's not especially strong, but the 'lord and lady' are likely determined enough to make it happen. "Unfortunately, little one, I'm not sure how we can get you home," she tells Jyndei. "Aside from asking a friend of ours who is capable of shifting planes to Quelynos, that is."

"We'll find something, Jyndei." Telamon is doing his thing again, radiating charm and good vibes. He clambers to his feet, transferring the tiny dragon to his shoulder. "I must ask, did you steal a jar of... heh. Bull testes? That was what caused us to realize something was amiss."

The little dragon actually squinches its snout up. "I did. They are still in that room." Jyndei pauses. "They tasted icky. I only ate one. Please do not make me eat any more."

Tel laughs softly. "No fear of that, my little friend. I think they are an acquired taste." He heads into the room, returning with a closed jar. "Let's... take these back to Tomas. Hopefully Pothy hasn't harassed him too much."

Cor'lana looks up at Telamon with the little dragon on his shoulder and smiles, mirth twinkling in her eyes as she looks at the two of them. "You look rather natural with Jyndei on your shoulder, Tel," she says. "I suppose that time you've spent with Tanith has probably prepared you for little draconic beings roosting there. Don't worry, we don't exactly keep those around at our house--much as I'm sure Pothy would be chomping at the bit to document another unusual food..."

She blinks. "Oh. I... I should go make sure he's okay. He's a lot better behaved since he came back from the Court, but, well."

She gathers up the bottom of her skirt hem, which enables her to move a little easier down the stairs (skirts make it awkward to move on stairs, after all). Once she hits the bottom, she looks around frantically. "Pothy?"

Pothy... is on Tomas's shoulder. Behaving. "What?" he croaks in Cor'lana's voice.

Tomas glances up, and hurriedly brushes a couple crumbs off his tunic. Everything is put away now, as he looks to Lana. "We still can't find the ...um. Oysters. Everything else is accounted for." He looks slightly worried, even with Pothy on his shoulder. "Did you find anything? I thought I heard you talking--"

Then Tomas kind of grinds to a halt and gapes as Telamon descends. Dressed in his ruffled white tunic, trousers, sash, and boots, he already looks impressive. But he's carrying the jar in his hands, and Jyndei perches on his shoulder, tail coiled around as the tiny faerie dragon peers around with bright eyes.

"Here's our thief, but he's decided he doesn't like them after eating one," Telamon quips, handing the jar back to Tomas to put away. "If Mistress Daneira asks, tell her I ate one to see what they were like, and that I'll send her a bottle of Night's Kiss if it's a problem." His eyes twinkle merrily at Tomas's dumbfounded expression.

"Really, Tomas, pull your mouth closed, flies are going to get in. This is part of life when you have the Talent; weird things happen."

And there is, of course, the 'faerie princess' that wraps her arm around Telamon's elbow, which completes the whole look of refinement and power that Telamon has going on. After all, her very fine purple dress shows off her chest marking in full and lends weight to the title 'Lady Cor'lana Lúpecyll, child of the Feathered One'.

"Don't be too hard on him," Cor'lana says with a grin to Telamon. "Poor boy's probably never seen a faerie dragon before."

Pothy, meanwhile, stares at Jyndei.

Stares.

Stares.

Stares some more.

But the message gets across to the faerie dragon.

Jyndei stares back at Pothy, tail switching nervously. But whatever passes between them passes, and the dragon nestles in on Telamon's shoulder. "Evidently, Tomas, this little fellow snuck in the other night during the party..."

Tomas stares, then slaps his forehead. "Of course. We had the doors and windows open... we weren't exactly concerned about security, considering Master Stiger and Master Turow were there among the rest of us. So he sneaks inside..."

Tel nods. "Nobody probably noticed, as the wine was flowing and there was already a certain amount of magical talent floating around. Who notices a wineglass, or a plate of food, floating away in a gathering of magicians? But afterwards, when the house was locked up..."

Tomas finishes the thought, "He couldn't get out." He looks sympathetically at the little dragon. "And so he went looking for something to eat while he tried to figure out how to escape."

Telamon gives Lana a squeeze, and nods. "Exactly. You'd put the jar at the front of the pantry, so Mistress Daneira would find it easily." He shrugs lightly. "All solved." He reaches into his haversack, pulling out a scrollcase. "Make sure Master Stiger gets this, by the way. I'd hate to forget to drop it off after everything..."

Pothy leans into Tomas's hair and ruffles it a little with his beak--apparently having taken a liking to Tomas in the short time that he's 'helped' with the cleaning--and flies back over to Cor'lana's shoulder. Cor'lana blinks at Pothy. "You're not throwing a fit about him possibly coming home with us?"

Pothy whistles for a short moment. Cor'lana blinks again--and then she smiles widely. "Pothy, you're pretty sweet these days," she says. This compliment, of course, gets Pothy's feathers puffed up.

She turns back to Tomas. "And if she really doesn't buy that Telamon ate it, tell her I did, but I imagine she'd buy Telamon's story after all. He does, after all, have a habit of poor decisions. Such as marrying me." She grins.

Telamon nods, and smiles at Pothy. "Thank you, Pothy. Sometimes I think our home is a bit of a house for wayward fey, but there are worse things." He looks to Jyndei. "Do not fear, my friend. Even if you cannot return home immediately, you will have a place to rest your head." Jyndei, for his part, makes a little burbling sound and butts his head into Tel's hair again, looking out with those big eyes.

"Now then," Tel says, turning his attention to Lana, "you really think I'm the one making poor decisions marrying you? I thought I tried to convince you to trade up?"

Tomas looks like he's trying not to giggle at the back and forth, in the meantime, as he walks them to the door. "Safe travels, Master Telamon, Mistress Cor'lana. And thank you for the help."

Cor'lana can't really quite suppress the quiet little 'aww' noise that leaves her mouth as she looks at Jyndei curling up in Telamon's locks. "Okay. The little one's definitely growing on me," she says with a smile. "And no, Telamon, I think you are the one who could trade up."

"Get a room already," Pothy says in the voice of an exasperated older woman. He begins to smooth down his feathers.

With that, Cor'lana just clears her throat and smiles genially at Tomas. "Of course," she replies. "I hope your date with your special lady goes well later this week."

Tomas actually blushes again, "I hope so too. It's, um..." He glances back and forth. "It's Isabella Stiger, Master Stiger's niece."

Telamon raises his eyebrows, and just shakes his head. "That'll be interesting. Chin up, Master Tomas. Just be a gentleman and you'll be fine."

Once the couple have departed the meeting house, Tel straightens his shoulders a bit... reaching up with his free hand to lightly pet Jyndei. "Well," he smiles at Lana. "This was unexpected. Why don't we head back, and see about a proper meal for our houseguest? We can also explain how things are working here, and if we can get him home again."

"Home!" Jyndei chirps happily. "The splendiferous courts of the Seelie, and the forests of Quelynos. But you are nice too. Thank you so much."

Cor'lana snickers a little, eyes dancing in the light. "Well," she says, "interesting on multiple levels. Poor Tomas is in for a rude awakening if he breaks that girl's heart, I think. You're certainly more qualified to give people advice on romance than I am, though--I'm just the girl who thought I was dying every time I thought of you and felt my heart beating harder in my chest."

She looks to Jyndei and smiles. "Well, you'll have the son of Matron Mantidalia and two pixies to keep you company," she informs the little dragon. "And Pothy as well. It's no Quelynos, and it's not Grandfather's house... but it's home."

The half-sil walk home, and the creatures they carry rest merrily on their shoulders the whole while.

OOC

What's in a name?

<OOC> Telamon says, "You do realize what 'mountain oysters' are, right? :D"

<OOC> Ravenstongue googles. Stares.

<OOC> Telamon says, "AHAHAHAHA :D"

<OOC> Ravenstongue says, "WELP. At least it's also in character for RT to not know what they are. XD"

<OOC> Telamon says, "'Huevos del toro'."

<OOC> Ravenstongue laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaauuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuughs