Prepare to Bargain

Log Info

• Title: Prepare to Bargain
• Emitter: Cryosanthia
• Characters: Cryosanthia, Braelnoir, Aya, Jinks
• Place: W01: Wayfarer's Inn
• Time: Monday, June 13, 2022, 9:13 PM
• Summary: Cryosanthia is at the Wayfarer's Inn, along with Braelnoir as her moral support. They are meeting with Aya, to see if it's possible to improve relations. Cryo starts off cool and distant, saying that while she has questions she doubts whether the answers matter, as time has rolled on an things have moved from malleable to set. Trust does not regrow like tails do, and tails don't regrow without a lot of magic involved. Aya explains she still wishes to make amends, and answers the whitescale truthfully. She did summon the demon to the temple, she did murder her lover while possessed. Brael comments that they are hardly innocent of that. Jinks arrives, and is drawn into the discussion, with some obvious tension between him and Aya. Cryo emphasizes she is deeply grateful for Aya's sacrifice, glad that her bargain returned Lily unharmed and undamaged, and the the little Kobold must never know the truth of this. Aya explains the difficulty with her simulacrum, which has attacked at least three times according to Jinks. Simply, it won't stay dead, but she has a plan. Cryo guesses the entire plan from minimal cues; Aya is going after Mortal Dread. The whitescale has reservations, and explains them. Getting to Mortal Dread required a lot of personal sacrifices, and binding promises. Anyone that accompanies Aya must be prepared to lose something, and if the mul'niessa is successful, she'll hold a weapon even the gods desire. It's not a great plan, at least not one the new Nest-Mother can get involved in, not with her primary Egg-Watcher present. They wish Aya well and hope to hear the story of her successful return.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=<* W01: Wayfarer's Inn *>-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

The inn's main room is large yet cosy, with plaster walls and a low ceiling supported by sturdy oaken beams. The decor is sparse: there's little other furniture save for a few rough-hewn wooden tables and chairs, and the only real object of 'ornamentation' is the large, moth-eaten moose head that's set above the kitchen door at the far end of the room. Still, the inn is pleasant in a simple, rustic way, and the delicious smell of food cooking makes it all the more inviting; the place seems to be more of a restaurant than a tavern, and a bar is nowhere in sight.

The innkeeper's counter sits in the east corner, within a few paces of the main entrance. Behind the counter is a small storeroom where one can purchase traveling supplies. The west corner of the room is occupied by a spiral staircase that leads to the second storey.

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-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  Appearing  =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Cryosanthia  6'9"     291 Lb     Sith-Makar        Female    A dashingly tall, elegant white-scaled lizard woman.
Braelnoir    5'11"    146 Lb     Human             Female    A tall, pale Acanian woman, branded in silver.  
Aya          4'7"     105 Lb     Shadow Elf        Female    Mul'niessa. Braided hair. Simple clothing.
Jinks        3'4"     39 Lb      Gnome             Male      A gnomish fellow in fancy garb and jewelry.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=

While not exactly 'home away from home', the Wilderness Pointe Inn is the closest human establishment and a comfortable place for Cryosanthia. It helps that her friends, Elleandra and Kami, live and work there, even if they aren't present at the moment.

One who is, is her Korrite Egg-Watcher. The Nest-Mother and Guardian are here for a meeting. Her daughter, Lily, is around but absent and romping with her aunties, Elly and Kami, who have their own secrets to share.

At another time.

Cryo leans back, sipping from a large mug of juice and picking at a plate of barbequed meat strips.

Brae, the Korite in question, is half through a plate of venison and root vegetables. The human's scythe is close to hand, propped against a free chair at their table, turned in angle to provide such a service.

With a mild shrug, the silver tressed merc remarks, "Think I spooked some o'the Watchers 'bout them Corpse Wagons."

While the warriors, past, present and future, are quite fond of sharing stories of past battles, and the Stormgardian had shared a number of them, including how her distinctive weapon came to her care (and getting it back, though the requisite seguways were troublesome), there was a certain profound effect on some of the audience when she shared the harrowing quest to destroy the blighted construct.

"It spooks me every time you tell it." The whitescale admits, taking another strip, "gets worse the more you consider it. How aware are they, is it automatic function, or are they in there, fully conscious of what happened."

She snaps a bite, her tail swishing, "Same could be said for Wights. How much of the original mind is still firing."

It is the closest to the city still comfortable for some, and the farthest from the city and still comfortable for others. For a multitude of reasons. Aya arrives rather simply and mundanely, via the provided door. No hints of shadow nor sudden appearances. There are enough reasons for enough people to be on edge as of late. She does not linger by the door long, a quick glance about all that is needed. Between Cryosanthia's stature and Braelnoir's tales, the two are conspicuous enough, and she makes her way towards them, though in a distinct lack of haste.

Cryo looks over at the door, nodding to Aya as she approaches. "Peace on your Nest," she says, her tone formal, then, "Just a minute."

The whitescale closes her eyes, concentrating and thinking back to earlier review. She traces symbols on the table, lines and arcane designs, words in Mysandrall. As she does, various markings on her hide light up, matching sigils and a sparkles that follow the faint scars that comprise her. When she completes, there's a sensation of an expanding bubble, protective magic.

"Okay, we have some privacy."

"It kinda wormed inta some o'my.... more colorful dreams, since." Brae confesses before hitting a tankard of something fermented. She runs the inner curl of her exposed index finger across her lip to evict any hint of foamy mustache, then sets the vessel upon the table.

"Plenty aware, luv." she sates mournfully, a bleak cast to her expression, "Brakka was still in there, still with't enough t'unnerstan' the code I's usin'. Same with'at other poor bastard in th'assembly chamber. Never got's name."

A shrug, "Proper death anna burial's all we coul do fer'm all."

The door's opening draws the mercenary's eye and she straightens some, an odd humor coloring her expression before she calls, "'ey, luv."

By the time the words have left her lips, her Kor branded fist claps against her breastplate.

With Cryo doing her thing, the Korite blinks sidelong her way, then, "Still ain't got used t'that'n, luv."

The warning helps to counter tension at the sudden magic before she greets them both. "Peace on your nest, Cryosanthia, Braelnoir," Aya offers each in turn with a wan smile; neither aloof smirk, nor could it be considered a beaming grin. Not all tension departed, though what lingers is blunted and rusted; nothing terribly new. "You are both well?"

"This one will never be Mikilos, Merek, Cesran or my former mistress," Cryosanthia sighs as Brae praises her spell, the resignation clear and heartfelt. Her skills pale when compared, the only solution is not to, "but this one must try. Scrolls and a couple magic items and I appear much more competent than I really am."

Thoughts of Brakka, the unknown soldier, future threats, are tucked away. Her gaze turns towards Aya, pointing her snout. The large lizard woman exhales with a huff.

"Well, you know how humans have hair and their children make them pull it out? This one has experienced a similar effect with scales. It is fine, this one wished to molt, and the nestlings are delightful. Little Fang is surprisingly experienced in assisting with young, and of course, Nahuatl and the other Nest-Mothers have lots of advice."

Another cold sigh, "So much advice. Visiting clerics too, who have never laid to my knowledge, speak down with unchallenged authority."

Cryo sits a little taller, "this one would not be doing anything else, and I doubt you wish the prosaic quotidian details. There is a routine, this one is settled in. So many aspects of my Nest-Mother make a lot more sense now. For the longest time, this one believed she never slept."

"This one now realizes a hyper sensitivity to motion allowed her to awaken whenever a nestling stirred, and adopt a vigilance. Anyhow, this one is well, and hopes you are."

"Well'nough, luv.... how you doin'?" Brae ventures in turn. It's been a while, and things have been... wierd, to put it mildly.

"Good on ya, luv. Hard'nough t'b yesself witout tryin'a be someone else."

She scowls, "Specially that mouser skank."

There's a shake of her head, then, "C'mon, " she starts, gesturing toward Aya, "take a load off." and pushes another chair out with her foot for the Mul'niessa.

Aya's expression brightens at mention of the carnation-scale. "You taught her well. Both of you." The mention of boundless, potentially unqualified, advice causes her lips to cant in a more familiar smirk. "I can't speak to mothering, but everyone has an opinion to share on how best to do one thing or another. That wouldn't be any different."

She accepts the kicked out chair and does, indeed, take the load off, settling heavily. "I am better than I was... not what I was." A breath is exhaled. "And still attempting to account for and correct all that was done. All that I did."

Cryosanthia nods, gesturing at the seat to echo Braelnoir's invitation. She is wearing her full adventuring ensemble, including a few new pieces, one of which is an elaborate and decorative headband. It makes her seem a little more imperious, and heightens the glint in her eyes.

It might even have mitigated her foolishness.

Her eyes close, glacial blue showing on her eyelids, which roll back to show her gem-like, sapphire eyes. Eyes fixed on Aya, "Thank you, for Lily, again."

The whitescale's head tilts, "Is this meeting part of the atonement, to deliver an apology like recovering addicts do, or was is there another motive?"

She gestures for the server, indicating Aya, "order food, tea at least. Tell us, please."

"Ain't you if somethin' takes yer will, luv." Brae says somberly, granting her in depth knowledge of Aya's circumstances is somewhat vague, "Ya saved m'niece, luv... an' I..."

The human hesitates a moment, then, "Mebbe I can help ya out here'n there ferm them situations ya could use another set o'hands."

Since she's back to just the one, now, anyway.

"Yes," Aya answers readily enough, though her lips purse at the comparison while meeting Cryosanthia's gaze. "You don't need to thank me any further, white-scale. I owe you far more from before that, and after. I am here to answer to you for it all." Her head pans. "Brae... Nothing took my will," she admits, and not with pride, "I gave it freely, and others paid the price. Still due. It isn't over, yet... but it will be soon."

Long, greasy black hair spills out from under the ranger's dark green cowl as he steps in. The slightest tilt of his head dismisses the bobbing glow of his light spell once out of the outside world's foggy gloom. Grimy, red-knuckled hands reach up and toss back the cowl--

Leading to the illusion melting away. A cascade of muted green, tangerine, and rose sparkles cascade down as the tallman melts into the form of a much-fancier (and compact) gnome. There's no cowl on the dandy's gold-stitched half-cloak and his shock-white hair falls at the other end of the spectrum in almost every regard. He pauses long enough to let his eyes adjust, sniffing at the tavern air and blinking before he starts his gliding stride through the common room.

"We've all been thrall," Cryo starts to say. Aya's explanation changes her response, "Well, Brae and I have then."

Her lips purse, then squeeze together. She takes a sip of juice, "So, an explanation? The Sunguard and Silverguard were quite critical of my trust of you, it caused considerable strife and resulted in an unbridgeable gulf."

She exhales through her nose, two streams of mist that travel some distance before dissipating, "Clearly I should have believed on assertion alone. Svarshan warned me of you, many other Sith'Makar. I nurtured a belief I saw something they did not. I even examined you for a pact mark, an insulting thing to ask of a trusted friend."

The lizard woman shrugs, "then I find after all that, I was wrong."

Her head shifts, she notices Jinks entering. She stares, finally saying, "this may be relevant to him, also, if neither of you object to bringing him in."

The clarification of being bondsworn brings a certain light, almost of recognition, to the human's eyes, and she nods, "I see." without glancing at her sister.

She leans foreward to rest her elbows upon the table and, "Th'rest still goes, luv."

There is a brief glance toward the opening door once more, her wolflike eyes scanning the new entrant, appraising for reasons probably more tatical than carnal, but then....

He's suddenly Jinks.

She's barely shifted from threat assessment to parsing a hail, when her scale sister puts forth a query to that end.

A hand lifts and she beckons him silently over, since... with Cryo's 'privacy' spell, she isn't sure her usual, more boisterous greetings would reach him.

Aya turns to follow the glances and spies the gnome. She then returns her attention to the table, one hand absently waving him over. "Thank you, Brae. I will not forget that. My current focus is upon my own errors, which are for me to correct." Then to Cryosanthia. "The Brightscale seemed suspicious of me from the moment I arrived. For one of The Sun, he also proved rather gifted in exaggeration... but that is not relevant not. Were any wrong to be suspicious? No. Should they have been quick to trust? No. Did I ever intend to act against any of you? Also no. He made no marks, so there were none to find."

The gnome gnods back, offering the briefest ghost of a smile from within the borders of his goatee before altering his course slightly. It's hard to tell without pupils but his solid black eyes seem to scan across the tables occupants as he's en route-- after the all-important detour past the bar.

Bottle in hand, he arrives, and offers a coy little wink in greeting. "Having a break from the little ones?" He asks Cryosanthia. Aya gets a canted chin in greeting and Braelnoir a tilted nod.

The gnome, too, is kitted out for an adventure outside the city walls. Bow, quivers, rapier, pouches, scroll cases, and a rather nice-looking, oiled pack of a dark leather increase the little man's bulk considerably. His Tarienite brooch catches the common room's light and glints, seeming to offer a wink from the coyote's eye as he drags over a taller chair for smaller folk.

The whitescale nods. She sits tall and still, while there's a degree of relaxation, a casualness, hints of her former fae mistress and the diplomatic manner she uses when acting as the voice of the Silver Empress remain. "Ok."

There's a shrug of her shoulders, hands turning over and spreading before she places them on the table again. "Trust doesn't regrow like tails do, and tails don't regrow without a lot of regeneration magic. I kept these details from Lily, she knows only that you were protecting her. This one is willing to allow supervised visits away from the nesting grounds, no unexpected arrivals. We can make arrangements for her setting traps and you activating them."

Her voice is firm. "She doesn't know she died and became a demon, and must never. She has no memories of that. This one does not want that seed of doubt sewn in her. I am very grateful she was returned unharmed."

Cryo looks down and away, "I wanted to help restore you. My Egg-Watcher insisted I would not, and this one can't apologize for not doing so." Coincidentally, it causes her to be looking at Jinks, then watching him climb. She smiles warmly, nodding, "I set them to helping Zama with her library."

Which means mostly, set them loose in her book-fort of a nest.

Brae seems more considerate as their company grows and she returns the gnome's nod with one of her own. It's a moment or two before she does anything more interesting than look from speaker to speaker, packing her baggage into the back of her mind much as she would if 'Biz' were on the table.

When she does, it's only to say, "Promises t'keep." whilst ignoring the phantom itch from her left ear.

"Cryosanthia," Aya's tone is both mild yet firm as she raises a hand in stay. A rebuttal, if a gentle one. "I do not expect trust to be as it was any more than I expected you to seek me out nor get involved. You had her, and she is more important than I. Now, all is ...changed. I cannot undo it, nor would I truly wish to, but I would see questions answered, edges blunted, at least?" A brow arches in mild query or hope with that.

"I will never tell her of such things, nor should she have remembered. That was a part of the arrangement; whole, healthy, as she was, with no recollection of anything else. The threat of the Wild Hunt was enough to hold his word, at the least."

"Ah, so we're talking about fun things tonight." Jinks smirks lopsidedly and half-mutters under his breath. He's busy running his fingernail around the bottle's neck and then dragging the cork up with a *fwoonk*. "... I'm sure Zama appreciates the assistance," he adds in a tone dripping with irony.

"The world's ending. Aya's back--" he lifts the bottle and tips its neck towards the mul'niessa in something of a toast-- "but somehow there are still simulacra running around and murdering archmages." His eyes widen and his eyebrows dance up in an expression of incredulity.

"The bastard demon didn't even have the good sense to die without leaving a piece of himself planted in paladins and the like." Now the gnome lifts his bottle in a more general toast before taking a long swig. "Mulria's sideways smile," he grunts before licking his lips.

"Thank you."

Cryo turns at Brae's words, her slight movement. 'Promises t'keep' and a torn ear remind the whitescale to think of other's needs. "Was Daechir restored? This one heard he was killed and the noble district destroyed in the process."

"As for other questions, how will the 'Why?' of what you did months ago help. The world has rolled on, the malleable has become fixed. Did you summon the Demon to Eluna's temple?"

Cryo lowers her head and rubs at her eye-ridges, she stares at Jinks, "What? He isn't 'done and dusted', as they say? Destroyed by the Arch-mage, the Arch-Paladin and the Silverguard. And simalcrum?" She stares at Aya once more, "I thought Aryia and the skelelton hobgoblin were going to free your soul from the Hells, defeat your possessed body, stuff it back in. That happened, Jinks paid, they all did, but it's still not done?"

"Which Archmage? Cesran?" Her keratin frills raise. "Okay, now I have questions."

"Always hopin' round here." Brae remarks dryly in retort to the fun conversations, then, "An I thought Ghisha was a pain'n the ass..."

She looks to the others, as it seems the situation is evlving and her left hand comes up to brush her hair back over that shoulder, "Simmilwhatnow?"

Ignorant of inspiring Cryo's detour toward bringing someone back from the dead and there is a subtle fidget from the mercenary, but no remark on that point.

"They are not pleasant, Jinks, but some things need to be said," Aya notes somewhat flatly. "I presume that he means Mikilos, who was pummeled before my eyes. Fortunately, he was restored." She lifts a hand to rub at the base of one pointed ear. A sigh is loosed and her eyes lower. "Yes, I murdered Daechir. Or it did. I do not know which of us was responsible. I-"

She halts, then continues. "Yes, I called him to Eluna's Temple. Yes, Aryia, Jinks and others retrieved my soul from Vardama's Hall and Aryia returned it to my body. The fiend within was ejected, but it was not destroyed. It has returned to the city, more than once."

A scowl forms and deepens as she looks back up. "I now believe what he did to Lily... was done to me, in a fashion. I returned... broken. Even restored I am not as I was. That fiend holds my memories, my training, my face! at times. It hunts those I know, or knew. I will not venture anywhere near Little Fang until it is destroyed utterly. I intend that to be soon."

"At least Daechir was a gentleman and had the grace to turn invisible before his chest exploded," Jinks sighs, having glanced down into the bottle at the talk of Mikilos being smeared on the pavers. There's another long draw from the bottle before he chokes out a combination sigh and belch.

The gnome gives a little cough and fishes a tear from the corner of one eye with a pinky. Blinking, he levels a look at Braelnoir. "Simulacrum. A fake Aya. Like a golem but not; based on illusory magics. I've seen... two? Three destroyed?"

A bejeweled hand is lifted and he waggles his fingers in thought. Thumb and pinky touch. "The library with them..." Thumb and ringerfinger touch as he points at Aya. "Mikilos turned into pate..." Thumb and index tap. "I feel like there was another... but that might've been the well." A shrug. Another drink.

"So... maybe find the warehouse and burn it down?" He suggests to Aya flippantly, shrugging again.

Finally, back to Cryosanthia: "Whatever mindscape suicide mission they took on to kill the demon lord resulted in a corruption of sorts. I have to imagine it's resolved at this point but none were unscathed. Like getting a song stuck in the back of your head... only you lose control and try to murder your friends an allies." He lifts the bottle yet again. "So... like that percussive gobber bing-bang garbage."

"This one really needs to catch up with Mikilos." Cryo murmurs, staring at the table, at her food, at her empty drink. She considers ordering some mead, but it's almost always too sweet. She had a lemon-ginger mead that was nice, once. Somewhere.

"This one is sorry there is no Aya to your Lily. Maintaining a distance seems wise. The Demon went after Lily to get to me, to get to the Sungard, to get to the Silverguard, so your friends and allies would be at risk. The pattern would repeat if it was one of his."

Her head raises slowly, "This one knows the gap of memory. Know also, that restoration of it will be a price paid in many ways. Mikilos' never regained some of his, and is happier for it."

There are memories in her tower she doesn't touch at all. Memories that comprise most of it.

"Aryia, Serene, Halani, Karelin, Cesran have shown themselves to be capable, and the others of your acquaintance. Wait, maybe not all of them," the gnome's observations regarding them are considered, "Hopefully it has been, then. This one does not wish to watch her back around presumed allies."

She has anough trust issues already.

"So, assuming the all clear, shouldn't they be able to bind and contain it? Mikilos had an idea for a method. It failed, but your demon simulacrum must be weaker if it was created by the Arch-Duke, yes? Wait, you said soon, do you have a plan already and my thoughts are moot?"

Sitting in place, she bops a bit, bing-bang-bing, recalling 'Rock the World'. She still has the T-shirt. Burn the warehouse down, yes.

Memory is a hell of a thing.

Brae nods, still in busiiness mode, as she takes in Jinks' explanation, filing the information under 'spooky shit', in the special sub-folder of 'tactical research required'.

Aya lowers her head, this time into her hand, which rubs her forehead. "Jinks... I spared your life once, which could be claimed to have led to .. a great many things. Please, do not make me reconsider..." She straightens anew to look to Cryosanthia ones more.

"It is no weak fiend. The Silverguards, combined, slew it and erupted in fire as the arch-duke did. Halani and I were able to subdue it once and then I slew it. Like its former master, it does not remain dead. Not until I retrieve a weapon which will destroy it utterly, which I shall. The alternative is to march into the Iron Hells and strike it down in its own stronghold."

The whitescale bristles at the threat to the gnome, the air around her frosting. She frowns. "That joke is not worthy of you, Aya. Look hard enough at him, you'll understand why."

Cryo ends up staring at the edge of the table, assembling salient points, assessing the tactics. A thought process similar yet different to her scale-sister's. Tap, tap, tap, that bling-blam-bling does seem stuck in her head. A few puzzle pieces rise higher: former master; won't remain dead; a weapon that destroys entirely. She puts two and two together, integrates, calculates the area under the curve.

"Tell me this is some hither-to unknown, unpublished, demon destroying weapon kept in the bowels of the Iron Book or known only to them, and not Mortal Dread."

Her head raises, she stares, "Seldan, Mikilos, Kira, Serene paid a horrible price for being near that. Obtaining it was the Demon Duke's long game, the whole reason for the time twisted conundrum with my mistress. Say it is the corrupted Reunion, Discord, some other item of prophesy. Find Merek and solicit an expedition to the Iron Hells, it would be easier and you could punch him again."

She considers that a worthy joke.

"We all have that one mistake we regret," Jinks tells Aya facetiously. He blinks and turns, holding up his empty hand. "Sorry. I'll stop. Making jokes is just one of the better ways I deal with--" he gestures vaguely-- "all this."

Still looking at the mul'niessa, he lifts the bottle to his lips and has another drink. It's too deliberate not to be intentional. "Coyote laugh WITH you, regardless. On getting your fancy weapon."

The fancy man gives a sharp inhale and covers his mouth. Eyes narrow as he wills that first spectre of a hiccough to be the last.

Blinking, he turns his gaze to Cryosanthia. "Thanks but you don't have to do that. She's right," he adds, tilting his head towards Aya. "It was too much. Even after being able to walk some of it back... all the shit happened, regardless."

Aya relents at Cryosanthia's bristling and Jinks' initial biting humor. "I am sorry, I meant nothing by it," she assures both, or all, "and you are both right." Inhale. Exhale. "Even if you did not, I saw Daed fall... and continue to. Though there are none I can blame more than myself."

Another pause for breath: in and out. "It is the same, Cryosanthia. I have spoken to Mikilos and Seldan of it. I am aware it is a dangerous task, but no more than the Iron Hells; less so, most believe. We do not go hastily, nor unprepared. I will not make another rash bargain, but I must resolve all that the last one wrought."

"That's all it was," Cryosanthia says, her head shaking from side to side, "Rash bargains. With the fae in the well, my skill at singing was sufficient they gave me a song and an introduction to the Wee Queen. Meeting her, she demanded trade, the very song I had, forever lost. Mikilos traded the last bottle of his first wine." There's a growl, "Merek offered his first born. An unconscionable deal, unless he knew he would never sire children. He's a seer, perhaps he did. Pelka, Lysos, this one forgets what they offered. Zapoklenix offered his contempt and ire, and we never saw him again. This secured the introduction to the Queen of Air and Darkness."

More headshakes, "This one didn't go along, but more trades were demanded. Seldan forgot his mother and her fate, memories, to secure the apple that restored mine. Mikilos... traded his blood. She, or the Wee Queen, comes quarterly to collect it from him"

Her eye ridges furrow, "I think. There were others along, I forget all the tradings, the details have faded some. I still remember hatching, that has helped with my nestlings."

"There will be bargains, any who come with you must bring something of great worth. Kira! Kira lost an eye, no, someone else did, and she accepted the loss on his behalf."

"And if you are successful in all this, you will have a weapon even the gods want. It's a weapon that will end them completely. The Queen will not release it to you without restrictions either, I remember that as well."

She glances aside at Jinks, at Braelnoir, then back at Aya, "I do want to hear the story when you get back."

A weapon that kills things, even Gods, utterly.....

Brae knows right where she'd stick that...

Talk of bargains, and trades remind the mercenary of oaths she'd taken, and the deeds called to call them obligations met.

Wait, Merek did wha....?

The Acanian blinks owlishly toward her sister as she is confronted with another aspect of her brother that she hadn't previously encountered. A bargain proffered that would parallel the one that set her onto her path.

Aloud, as she looks to the trio in turns, she says, "Phrasin'll be all that can save ya from an impossible deal."

Aya listens intently to Cryosanthia's offerings. No rebuttals, mitigations, nor reflections. In fact, a brow lifts as the list of dealings continues on, and she wonders if she should have sought the whitescale first and foremost for counsel. She processes all of that for a time before nodding and rising.

"I will share it upon my return." A pause before she emphasizes, "and I shall return." A glance to Brae. "By choosing my words carfeully. There are many I would see again, and see some still, decades from now." A somewhat casual thumb is gestured to her side as one corner of her mouth lifts. "The gnome; we all know he is irresistible." With that (possibly) improved joke, she steps back from the table before turning to exit the premises.

"Ha--hk!" Jinks laughs shortly only to have his shoulders bob. He grimaces and narrows his eyes again. Then attempts to smother the tic with another swig. "I'll be sleeping off some binge or another, locked behind the heavy doors of-- well, nevermind that." The maestro smirks and waves a hand dismissively.

"Whatever misguided the Hymn into granting this gift hasn't stopped me from turning to shit every single attempt to take part in these grander schemes." He loops the neck of his bottle through the air. "... we've already revisited some of the highlights tonight.

"Then. When you need it. The Voice of History is mute and you're thumbing through books for basic information like some banal, papercut-riddled academy student. So-- plbbbbbt--" he tosses pointer- and index-finger up in a v-shape towards the establishment's roof. "No deals with fey queens for this black-eyed bastard. The hells already got their piece. Vardama, too. There's not much left of me to go around."

Jinks almost misses waving good-bye to Aya in his rantings.

She catches the look, Cryo faces Braelnoir, her nose dipped, the little headshakes still occurring. "He wasn't in his right mind, Brae, I have to believe that. Or it was some misguided attempt to Woo the Wee Queen."

Do not think about it too hard.

A hand is raised to wave at the departing Aya, then Cryo slumps, looks at her remaining companions. "This one doesn't want to ponder how that piece in play again will upset the current machinations. Well, one can only hope it's shoved up Heth's vent before it makes its way home."

"And this one apologizes, Jinks, for being protective of you. Forgive a new Nest-Mother's overactive maternal instincts. I'm going to be this way for anyone below a certain size." She grins, only slightly joking.

"People stepping up for me isn't the worst thing," Jinks grins, turning back around to shrug at Cryosanthia. "But that mul and I are all tangled up in our own mess-- just like you and her." He clears his throat.

"If she wants to fire off a volley at me every now and again it's more than fair." He flaps his hands through the air dismissively. "If it makes her feel better that's good, too."

Snorting and smirking, the gnome bobs his head at Braelnoir. "A whole other Ani-mess."

There's a squeak and a quiet clatter as Jinks pushes back in the chair and hops down to the ground. "Going to find a few more bottles and retire; it's been too long since I woke up confused as to where I was." He waves and saunters towards the innkeeper's counter.

The merc claps a fist to her breastplate as Aya makes her assurances and sets about taking her leave. She glances to Jinks at the Mul'niessa's dig, though, and snorts a quick laugh at his rebuttal.

Cryo's reassurance doesn't seem to mollify her completely, but she sets her jaw and nods.

That may be a conversation some day.

Or not.

"All we need's more god chunks floatin' around."

"Hmm..." Cryo murmurs, a thought following a thought, "Gotta wonder if stabbing a Shard would move all of them and Animus from 'Dying' to 'Dead' in one stroke. Change everything, instantly, instead of this unraveling."

A thought, but one she couldn't follow through on. 'Junior' is too interwoven in her mind. She watches as Jinks goes searching, and stands.

"Well, lets find Lily, Elly and Kam and wait for the world to burn." She adjusts her clothes, which don't need adjusting, and nudges the scythe toward Braelnoir. A flick of her wrist, her spell is cancelled.

OOC

<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "incidentally, this is (TB) Cryo log 1000"

Mead
<OOC> Braelnoir says, "I've looked into making stuff like that before"
<OOC> Jinks says, "The mead really runs the gamut. It's not terrible when people do strong flavors like ginger or lemon to offset the just sickeningly sweet honey taste. But usually it's like drinking syrup and it's awful."
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "agreed. beer store mead is okay, that's just sweet-ish"
<OOC> Braelnoir says, "i'm kinda partial to mead, but sometimes it does get too sweet"

Goblin bling-bang-bling
<OOC> Jinks says, "lol"
<OOC> Cryosanthia grins.
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "March 2020, Merkabah, EA World Tour."
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "Build for Blar!"
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "The last Lahar sighting"

Iron Hellish
<OOC> Jinks says, "Start in the Tin Hecks. Work your way up."
<OOC> Jinks says, "*down?"
<OOC> Braelnoir says, "Sideways >.>"
<OOC> Aya says, "Fighting unknown numbers of fiends just to get to the one we're after sounds like the whole thing would go sideways. :S"
<OOC> Braelnoir says, "indeed >.>"
<OOC> Aya also warns, "I am crashing hard and need to pause or wrap soon, unfortunately."
<OOC> Braelnoir hugs tight
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "posing as fast as I can"
<OOC> Aya hugs. "Quite alright, Cryos. :)"