In the Wake of Laughter

Log Info

• Title: In the Wake of Laughter
• Emitter: Robert
• Characters: Jay, Lauriel, Nemori, Robert, Zofija
• Place: A13: Northern Gates
• Time: Saturday, April 02, 2022, 9:57 PM
• Summary: Jay and Robert are admiring the lingering effects of the recent Tarienite holiday as Lauriel arrives through the northern gates and Zofija attempts to clean the graffito. A new arrival, Nemori, comes into the city shortly after the Dawn Elf artificer. Esoteric materials, mistakes, and pranks are discussed. Nemori escapes a shaky social situation and strides off to the west as conversation continues for a spell.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=<* A13: Northern Gates *>-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

The northern gate of Alexandria stands grandly here, the city's northern portal to the outside world. Tall and rugged, crafted from works of the arcane that must have taken generations to achieve, the city wall around it glows with manalights and is augmented, outfitted with the latest defenses. Airships fly overhead, and towers oversee the pace of traffic into and out of the Lord's City while the statue of the Burning Phoenix overlooks it all.

The northern gates stand larger than any man. Visitors passing beneath them will pass by a pair of guard houses, as well as towers on either side. The gates open wide for caravans, who arrive from many countries, from nearby farmlands. To the west is the river and to the east the rising mountains of the Redridge, from which the city emerges from like an artful, yet bizarre outcropping.

Around the gates are a number of inns and taverns, ready to serve visitors to the Lord's City. These businesses show the eclectic mix that is Alexandria, with its mix of flavors, colors, and spices. Beyond them lies the upper Gardens District.

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-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  Appearing  -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Jay          5'9"     145 Lb     Eaglefolk         Male      A perky male Blue Jay with a discerning eye.
Lauriel      4'11"    114 Lb     Dawn Elf          Female    Stout elf wearing a tree.
Nemori       4'10"    110 Lb     Mul'niessa        Female    A tall and slender, dark skinned elf.
Robert       6'3"     235 Lb     Human             Male      A middle-aged Cerenzan with a friendly, fatherly vibe.
Zofija       5'8"     225 Lb     Hobgoblin         Female    A well-dressed Arvek-Nar with a big hammer.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=

The sun is nothing more than the faintest, glowing, and fuzzy outline on the rooftops of the buildings to the west. Dark clouds put a patchwork roof on the world and faint starts twinkle desperately in a few deep and dark blue holes here and there.

Traffic has slowed through the northern gates. No, it's not another lockdown; one of the massive doors is swung closed and undergoing a cleaning effort. A half dozen Alexandrians with soapy water, brushes, rags, and even a little hedge magic are hours into scrubbing a grafitto of Tarien in his animal form frolicking. The tag is curiously resilient to cleaning attempts while also glittering and glowing.

Two apprentice Academy students attempting to prestidigitize sections of the vandalism are sweating and red-faced as it resists their efforts-- and something keeps tickling their noses and making them sneeze to interrupt their efforts. Folks putting in more mundane efforts find that their tools slippery or prone to failure or soapy water splashes into their eyes... The celebratory (but unauthorized) painting seems to almost have a mind to defend itself.

Members of Coyote's church are curiously busy and cannot attend to help.

So this leaves the gate half-closed and slows the ingress and egress of the citizenry. It also serves to make the soldiers moody. Well, moody-ER. Lots of frowns. Except the one soldier who seems to be having a great time finding the humor in the situation. He's not making any friends, though. Probably won't be asked out to drinks with the rest when the shift is over...

Lauriel comes in from outside, let in by surly guards and trying not to bump into unhappy folk that are cleaning. The efforts of the many have had her attention while she's had to wait and gathered her curiosity. She gets into the city and then steps off to the side to watch for a while.

Nearby, watching the vigorous yet lacklustre cleaning efforts, is a black, white and blue Egalrin. A blue jay in breed, wearing a nicely fitted leather suite, with waistcoat, and carrying a briefcase.

"So the hearsay was accurate, there is an indelible diefic doodle on the door!" He seems to be talking to himself, or, perhaps there is someone with him. The sun is throwing some harsh shade and glare. He's not too far from Lauriel, although he hasn't noticed her yet.

She's noticed him, he's loud like that.

"... reminds me of being little; when we were still living with the Faring Folk." Robert responds to Jay, taking a few steps to catch up after letting a muscled draft horse pass with its oruch rider and heavy saddle bags. "You always knew when it was the first of Bernfleur..." he chuckles.

"There was a particular event with itching powder..." the big Cerenzan muses, reaching down to idly scratch at the top of his thigh at the phantom ticklings conjured by memory. He's wearing a coat and carrying a collapsed umbrella mid-haft. It could rain! The artificer isn't wearing his work clothes but he has a heavy belt on and his sledge and a few scattered trinkets hang from it. He's also got a satchel hanging across his large torso that smells of talc and clean linens.

Eventually a small party gets admitted through the gates. Two humans and two elves, all mounted, seeming a typical arrangement for a well balanced adventuring group. The armoured male leads the way, having no eyes for the vandalism nor the attempts to clean it up... the other human, however, seems to take a keen interest, even slowing her mount briefly after making a few gestures to look at the glowing glitter. Only briefly, however, and she urges her horse to catch up with the others.

It's not hard to see the tension between the two elves. One Llyranesi, one Mul'niessa.. in Alexandria, such a pairing wouldn't even draw a blink, but there's some obvious hostility between the two. The cowled male dawnelf's eyes never seem to leave the woman's, his hand never far from the knife at his belt. The shadow elf, on the other hand, ignores him to the point of being obvious about it. She rides straight in her saddle, a stiff backed bearing despite the tattered state of her dress which at one point could have been considered finery. There's also a bit of a sense of her riding apart from the others, like she's simply following. Or being escorted.

Lauriel glances over to the loud bird and finds Jay. Not too far from him the familiar Robert speaks of the past. She grins and steps over closer to the two. "Seems more then normal artwork to me. More like the work of magic and mayhem. That is like the laughing one after all." She nods to them both. "Greetings you two."

She glances up at the party of adventurers and watches the two elves intently. Her face neutral.

"I ate a Witchlight once." The bluejay tells Robert, "it looked like a fat caterpillar. They are caterpillars with elf heads. Very small." He pinches the air, demonstrating. "Well I didn't /eat/ it, I bit it, it screamed, I screamed, the whole bush screamed. I was Fey-Pox'd the whole summer, my feathers kept coming out pink."

His head whips around, "oh hi! Hello! Hi. Hi!" He squawks at Laurien, "How are you doing? Bob was talking about his itch."

The mounted party draws his attention and he looks them over, waving a wing vigorously at the mounted four. "Hello! Integrity C. Truefeather, Esquire, at your service! The 'C' is for 'contract'. Free lance Explorer's Guild lawyer available for hire if you have issues with the Guild... or each other."

He's got a hunch something is up, and immediately pecks at it.

A Khazadi worker in a well-used smock and apron has been going at the painting with a brush for some time, growling and conjuring a prodigious amount of suds. She finally stops, panting, and steps back to see how much progress she made... only to put a boot in a bucket and go stumbling back onto her rump with a splash of water and bubbles. A few people in the crowd titters and chuckle. There are some gasps and then rolled eyes that can't be heard.

"Aaaaah-PHWEEEBBBBP!" goes a Sil-blooded arcanist, doubling over and covering his face.

"... I'm going home," grunts an Acanian with wet brown hair; he was in the splash range of the tumbling dwarf. He drops the rag he'd been holding into another bucket and collects the bucket. "Say we bring the luckbringers at gunpoint'n make'm fixit...." he mutters before using the damp smock sleeve to wipe water and suds away from his eyes.

The gobber wizard with the floppy, wide-brimmed hat turns and makes a high-pitched, inquisitive sound as more of the workers seem to agree that the workday is over. His long nose is red from the sneezing and there's a little snot bubble getting bigger and smaller at one of his nostrils.

"It's a pain in the arse is what it is." One of the door cleaners grumbles, an Arkek nar with her hair held back by a white bandana. She sighs and scrubs at the wood after sneezing several times, and rubbing her nose. "They're supposed to do this yesterday, I feel like I'd be better served finding some luckbringers and making them realize luck ran out after knocking their skulls together till they come fix this."

"Miss Lauriel," Robert waves 'hello' after tearing attention away from Jay's anecdote. He looks a bit tired-- at the end of a long day-- but in high spirits. The big man side-eyes the legal eagle going off to make new contacts as he steps closer to his fellow artificer. "How are you doing today? Back from a trip?"

Lauriel tears her eyes from the group to look back to Robert and Jay. "Integrity. Bob. Good to see you both again." She nods to the other artificer. "I like to look for fallen bits of iron wood or other hard woods that are useful for fixing and making back up pieces." She looks at all the folk upset at the work and how it's going. "I have a thought about the artwork. But I doubt they'd care to hear it right now." She grins again and shrugs.

The mounted man in armour regards the blue feathered leagle calmly.. remarkable considering the minor chaos erupting behing him, which probably also explains the laughter coming from the human woman. "We may have need of your services, goodfellow," he finally tells Jay. "Depending on how our conversation with the guild goes." His eyes shift to the dark skinned elf. "Alright, 'Mori'. This is as far as we take you. There are inns in this neighbourhood.. I suggest finding one of them for lodging."

Nemori regards the armoured man, lips tightened.. she still makes a point of ignoring the other elf. "Of course," she finally says, her tradespeak moderately accented, very precise. Without so much as a nod, she tugs on her horse's reins to lead it away from the group. The horse only takes a few steps before the group's leader clears his throat. "We'll be needing the horse back."

Another clack of hoof on cobblestone, and Nemori brings the horse up short. It wouldn't have seemed possible before, but her stiff back gets even stiffer, and an ugly expression crosses her face before it immediately smoothes out.. the transformation is remarkable. Her smile almost glows as she half turns to nod his way. "Of course! Forgive me. I had forgotten. I am still growing accustomed to your limited generosity."

As she climbs out of the saddle, the other elf scowls, taking offense to her words. "You vile piece of..." His hand closes around the dagger's hilt at his waist, but it is immediately covered by the human woman's.. it appears she wasn't so completely distracted by the post Tarien shennanigans.

Nemori just smiles sweetly at him, the first time she's looked at him since entering the city.. then retrieves her pack and a blackened staff from the baggage behind the horse's saddle, then turns away from them.

"Okay! Here's my card, my card, my card!" Integrity is passing them out like candy, hopping from horse to horse. "It has contact info only, has been magically scrubbed and will not serve as a focus proxy. Spells targetting it will be re-directed to a rock on the bay. Hope to be of service."

He hesitates a little beside the mounted elf, and then tucks the card in under the grip around the dagger. He makes a wide circle around the elf's horse, conscious of kicking distance, and ends up beside Nemori with another card extended, "In case you're in need of legal advice.

"My children couldn't be trusted alone with paints." Bob tells Lauriel with a widening smile. "Or chalk or charcoal or... well, if you could drag it on a surface and leave a mark they'd manage a doodle for prosperity." He can't help but laugh at the slapstick antics, coughing through closed lips before erupting properly.

The smith's mirth is tempered by the antagonism tossed between the quarter... and Jay injecting himself right into the middle of it. "Weather's too cool for hot heads. Wrong side of a city's walls for returning barbed words with a blade," he advises calmly. There's a calm, observing nature to the rolling cant. <Merctalk>

"Cheaper rooms west of the river, miss, with perfectly-comfortable beds." He adds with a friendly smile to Nemori.

It was a losing battle attempting to clean the markings, or at least it felt like it for the time being. The arvek-nar sighs, and sneezes, before she shoves the rag she had back into one of the many buckets. "I think I remember you from back at the Ox-strength. No really, I'd love to hear any ideas. I think I've got a good idea what it is about though, but another point of view doesn't help.

Lauriel's eyes go from one elf to the other and then between the two humans. "I don't know the story of this group," She says aloud to them, "And I'm sure I shouldn't interject. However I do know that the watch does not take kindly to fights in the street. And that they have a cell large enough to hold you all." Her neutral face remains neutral as does her voice.

To Robert she sighs. "Children..shouldn't be entrusted with a good many things. But they often are."

Zofija takes the chance to stretch and look around, catching the other familiar faces with a nod. "Yeah, he's some sort of lawyer or the like, maybe he can help you. Not that I would hope anyone is needing their help after immediately ending up in Alexandria. Anyways, kids are going to do that. least chalk and charcoal can be scrubbed off usually, anyways."

"You do? I don't remember anything from the Ox Strength." Jay squawks, "I remember walking in, and waking up in the Soldier's Defense. Now I wish I could forget the IronBrew. Wait, aren't you Slixvah's friend, Muscles? OH!" He lowers his voice, which isn't much, "You're pretending not to know me!"

He looks around excitedly, it is a day for jokes, or was the day before. Perhaps this is an extended ruse for some reason. There are no other egalrin to be seen. His feathers ruffle. He hops in place, waiting for a response from the shadow elf... and maintaining a distance. "I haven't seen any iron wood pieces around, but I'll keep an eye out for them. An eye!"

The armoured man doesn't hesitate to take Jay's card, though he doesn't look at it before slipping it away. "We aren't going to cause any trouble, miss," he assures Lauriel before looking back at his companions. "She isn't worth it, Kav. Come on. Our day's not ver yet." And then he's leading them further into the city, most probably in the direction of the Guild. The woman, at least, looks back and offers a small smile to Nemori before she looks ahead and disappears with the other two.

Nemori just watches them go with a smile that doesn't reach her eyes before she looks at Jay while hefting her pack over one shoulder, then passes her darkstaff to that arm so she can take his card. She looks at it curiously. "I do not think I will need help," she tells him. Then she regards Robert. Beyond the facade she is putting on for these strange people, there is also a shade of wariness about her. "I will keep that in mind. Thank you."

"Think nothing of it," Bob offers with a tilt of the head meeting a half-shrug. "Welcome to Alexandria. Muse' grace." The big Cerenzan has continued to grin his easy grin and he has something of an accent himself; shades of lost Dragonier.

Lauriel earns his attention again and he nods slowly, "The instinct to coddle and protect them is there, certainly, but some lessons are only learned by making mistakes. A bit of paint on the wall never killed anyone." He laughs before catching himself and nodding past Zofija at the graffito with a "-- sorry," for her wasted time.

"No, the other person, the one looking like they put on half the forest before coming here. I'm not pretending to forget who you are, not this time." Zofi grunts. "Ironwood isn't a thing you find, it's a temporary magical application to existing wood, so if anyone tries to sell you some, chances are they're trying to pull a fast one on you."

"Paint isn't cheap is all, but people are going to do what they feel like until they learn or you step in. Both are valid, sometimes some things are better."

Lauriel looks at Zofi and her eyes get a tad larger as she coughs and covers her mouth with a hand. "I know the material of which you speak. The mysticly strengthened wood. There is also normal ironwood. Natural trees. Not as firm as the magicaly enhanced but still tough and hard." She coughs again and then smiles as she turns to Jay. "Keep your eyes in. No hurting yourself." Then to Robert. "Mistakes. I've learned so much from them I think I'll make some more."

"Alexandria." Nemori tests the name on her tongue... surely she knew its name before coming here, and the way she says it doesn't have the sound of a new word to her. But she is testing it. She tucks Jay's card away, then turns away from the conversing quartet. Heading in the direction Robert indicated, if one care to take note.. apparently she'd rather take his suggestion than that of the people who brought her here.

"Well that's what kids are for. Mistakes. If they aren't mistakes to start with." Jay hops between Nemori and Lauriel, whilst opening his beak at Robert. He flaps his wings, "Showing their elders that their ways have become stodgey. It's even more pronounced between the shorter and longer lived races."

He makes a gesture as if he had a beard that reaches to his knees, "A wizened human with hair to here being called childish is alway funny."

In his antics, he completely misses Nemori's departure, and then whips his head around, "Was it something I said?"

"I'd venture she's tired from her road and looking for a bed, IC; I wouldn't take it personally." Bob answers, nodding idly at the retreating mul on her westward trek.

"You'll have to tell me how those go," he adds for Lauriel, doing a poor job of feigning seriousness as he states "never having made any mistakes myself." He grins. He winks. That middle-aged brand of humor that's more enjoyable for the teller than the told.

There's a self-amused snort and he looks from Zofija ro Jay, shaking his head at the egalrin. "Are you implying that I'm stodgey? My hair may be losing its color but I assure you that my ways are still modern-- avant garde, even."

Lauriel grunts in amusement but then looks up at the disappearing sun. "Time for me to head to my own bed. I will see you all later, I hope." She starts to head off just as she stated but then pauses to turn to those that are still trying to clean. "Laugh at it. Laugh at yourselves and each other. Have fun. I bet you it comes off then. If not.. at least you're having fun." She chuckles and strides on down the street.

"I didn't mean offense, just ah, sorry, probably came out real rude." The cavalier attempts to backpedal, leading to the arvek-nar coughing and rubbing one of her ears as they were already taking off. "Well, now I feel like a right ass. Should apologize next time I see her. "What do you mean modern, old man? Your practice is all about dredging up the ancient ways of kulthos, you're even less hip then the average person your age." She adds, breaking out into more laughter. "Not the best after just worrying about offending someone, but I hope you know better by now."

"That's good advice!" The bluejay says, waving a wing at the Lauriel as the the walking tree... leaves.

Some things never get old.

"There was a lot of stress there. The Mul'niessa was wearing courtly clothes, something a noble would wear, allegedly. She wasn't being escorted as a prisoner, but they didn't enjoy her company and she didn't know where she was." Integrity struts around, walking and talking, taking huge steps which are almost absurdly long. He spins in place, "With the current political situation in Charn, she might be a refugee from a disgraced family and has been sent here for protection. Interesting. Interesting!"

"And Bob Hip? Ha!" The bluejay is overcome with cawing laughter, where he grab Robert's wrist, "Okay! Let's check the other gate! There are three other spots like this, allegedly. I want to see them all!"

The blue jay attempts to drag the old artificer off to some new destination. "Good luck with the scrubbing Muscles!"

Map
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rocVCCdNmtc

Dramatis Personae

Jay
Integrity C. Truefeather, esquire and supra-genius is a Blue Jay Egalrin lawyer. He stands tall and proud, sharply looking around for a situation he can jump into and provide counsel. His leather armour is padded and puffed, cut for avian lines, with bolas and a rapier on his belt. He wears a blue lupin on his lapel. His crest is long, ready to pop up at any objectionable thing. He is full of energy, standing and strutting about with style and flourish.

Lauriel
This Dawn elf stands roughly an average height for her race at just under five foot. However she could be confused with a human at a distance. Her frame is not slim like the rest of her kind but broad in shoulder and hip. Carrying more meat on her bones and thus more human looking.

Her Hair is of a shade half way between an Autumn russet and dusky blond. Most of the time it's pulled back into a ponytail and held in place with a bit of string or leather strap. Her eyes are a light green and are often looking about with clear signs of intent and intellegence. Beside her left eye and running cleanly down to the cornor of her mouth is a scar, likely made by blade due to it's clean line. This 'ruins' the prettiness of of her face but it seems somehow to fit her. Her skin tone is that of milk touched with honey, lightly weathered with time spent outside and caloused hands from hard work.

She wears doeskin pants that have seen much wear and a light wool shirt of green that is faded and worn. Wrapped around her middle is a wide toolbelt with small pouches and tools attached. Sturdy boots on her small feet.

If going anywhere beyond a trip to the market she is likely to be found in her armor. A strange amalgamation of what would normally be metal plate and chain, intsead made with bark covered wood and vines. Her face sometimes covered by a blank visored helm with slices of amber covering the eye holes. One her back an oversized pack as well as a bow and longsword.

Nemori
The long pointed ears mark this woman as an elf. The deep brown colour of her skin and the uneasy aura about her mark her as a mul'niessa. She stands a few fingerwidths short of five feet tall making her slender build look almost, but not quite, gaunt. Her shoulders are narrow, her hips are barely pronounced, but there is enough definition to keep her from being mistaken as a male. All in all, 'skinny elf lass' wouldn't be an unfair description.

Pale grey hair is kept mostly up in a messy bun, though several locks remain free framing her face. Her features fall short of beauty thanks to a nose that's a touch too long, pale blue eyes that are a fraction too wide, cheeks that are just a little bit too soft. Faint lines around her mouth do indicate a habit of smiling, but the way her eyes tend to narrow when she does so one could be forgiven for wondering if she smiles for the right reasons.

She wears a worn, not quite tattered black dress of what once was a fine make. The scooped neckline is ripped in a few places, but the embroidered edges might look a little bit like a fine chain. A black leather belt, a design more in place in a noble's court than the adventurer's road snugs the dress around her hips, and soft leather boots that do not at all go with the ensemble adorn her feet. The last thing of note is a dark, curved staff which the woman typically keeps held close.

Robert
Robert is a big bloke from big stock and getting just a bit shorter and softer around the middle as the years pile on. He has dark, reddish skin and the build of a man who's spent his nearly-five decades of life at some form of manual labor or the other-- while also eating quite well. His hair is black where it isn't going grey, his hairline is receeding, and the swirl at his crown is thinning.

Though the Cerenzan is starting to wrinkle, his blue-eyes are still sharp with an inquisitive intelligence. A smile rests easily on his full lips and he's perpetually afflicted by a five o'clock shadow. The older man seems perfectly comfortable in his own skin and content to take his time and enjoy the world around him.

Zofija
Zofija stands at slightly above average for an Arvek-nar, but she is even more muscular than most, which is an impressive feat for the military minded race. Their skin is a light orange-brown, brightening to almost white at the tip of their nose. Their hair is short length and brow, and just a bit wild when not covered by a hat. The arvek-nar usually has a stern look to them, with yellow eyes that almost seem to be judging the person looking at them.

She is usually dressed much how one would expect arvek-nar cavalry to be. A fur lined black jacket draped over her right arm like a cloak, over top of a dark red coat hiding the chainmail underneath. A pair of cream colored slacks accompany the outfit, but they are covered up partially by a pair of almost knee height riding boots of oiled black leather.