The Prophet Hotaru

It's a small house really. Nothing elaborate or which could be easily discerned from the outside as being the location of a boy whom is rumored to be a prophet. Yet it's location is in the nobility district. A place unlikely to be attacked, and which is surrounded by other homes like it constantly on the look-out for oddities in the neighborhood.

A small gnomish woman leads you to the home, and she knocks in a very specific manner on the door before being let inside. There's a pair of guards on the inside, but they're not the only guards. There's two more at the back door, and two more standing outside the living area where the boy is currently sitting.

The boy himself is entirely unremarkable really. He wears a set of deep orange robes, and his hair has been shorn so close to his head that he almost looks bald. His eyes are a deep brown color, and he looks up as you enter the room with an utterly unsurprised expression on his face. The gnomish woman begs your pardon and leaves you to head into the kitchen where you can hear her fiddling with various things. Which leaves you with just the guards, and the boy.

"I know you want answers." He speaks with a clear, lyrical voice, and you realize by this alone that he's a little older than your first impression of him. Thirteen perhaps, not ten. It's a voice accented with the charnese dialect, because that's the place he learned to speak. "Some things however, are not yet written."

The Nobility District. Great.

Aryia eyes the place as they arrive and enter, her adjusting the silvery sheened vest and making sure her white button up was tucked into her black slacks. She pushes her braid out of the way and doffs her shades, a well worn verdant jacket slung over her shoulder as they file in.

The Charnese dialect makes her squint a bit, but that's just reaction at this point. If she could talk (properly), she'd have similar. She waves to the boy, her brows pinching as he's on the floor.

She sits on the floor with him. And waves, a journal already in her lap with a pen half pulled out.

Telamon is uninclined to loom over the boy (regardless of relative height), so after the gnomish woman escorts them inside, he carefully kneels down to put his gaze a little closer to the lad's level. Besides, it's rude to make someone crane their head up like that. "Are these things that could be," he inquires, "or are they things that will be? In any case, the Charnese seemed quite intent on holding onto you." He smiles broadly. This is no interrogation; just a friendly chat, as far as he's concerned.

Mikilos is here strictly as a curiosity. The wizard heard of a prophet, and was interested. What has been or shall be foretold remains unknown to the elf. Still, not quite what he was expecting. Somewhat familiar with chairless cultures, Mikilos takes a seat to the side, more interested in hearing what others have to say.

Verna is clad in her typical fare as a Mourner; gray upon gray. She makes note of the guards, which are a welcome sight given the situation. They receive a nod, as do those present. This includes the boy, last. He seems to know why some have come to visit. It may be a reasonable presumption, or validation of alleged status as a prophet.

Seyardu was not the happiest to be in the noble district, but they had reason to be there, and it was not that bad. She joined the others in making their way into the home, and waits at the side as the gnome leaves, before she offers a small wave to the child.

"It is good to meet you proper, now, and I hope you are recovering alright." She greets. "Yes, they did not wish for you to leave. Did they say anything about why they were keeping you perhaps?"

Anything but inconspicuous on the best of days, Jinks is in good company with others who aren't entirely relaxed within the nobles' quarter. Through the door he stretches and sheds the illusion of Ser Buffooniert Longlegs of the Happy Valley, soft pink motes falling away to reveal the overly-decorated and black-eyed gnome. He dusts his sleeves and flicks a clinging thread of illusory Weave away before finding his way through the foyer to meet this prognosticator of prognosticators.

A whisper-thin, shock-white eyebrow quirks at the boy's orange garb, already finding himself a little more fond of the child. The Tarienite doesn't match today, however, wearing his oversized plum-colored coat to ward off the cold outside. He doesn't bother kneeling or sitting, savoring the rare opportunity to look across (and not up) at most of the people in the room.

The minstrel takes a spot towards the side of the room, fiddling with a crimson-stone ring set with a milky black stone.

The boy looks at Aryia, nodding his head to her politely, then to Telamon, Mikilos, Verna, and Seyardu. He seems to take each of you in at his own pace. The weight of his gaze is not a wholly easy one to bear. There's a burden of knowledge in his eyes that most thirteen-year-old boys simply don't have. "I will understand your hands as easily as your voice if you had one." He says to Aryia, and then smiles somewhat mysteriously at Telamon. "What may come, what might come, and what will come are all roads that the spirit travels."

For a moment it seems that this is all the answer that Telamon will get, and then with twinkling eyes the boy continues. "Free will makes most futures uncertain, but I see many of the threads of what might be. This is why the Charnese wanted me. Why the demon saught me from my infancy."

This is answer to Seyardu as well. Though his eyes darken slightly at her question as to his health. He is gaunt, his complexion pale. He does not look terribly healthy all told. "I am recovering." He murmurs.

GAME: Aryia rolls heal: (17)+5: 22
GAME: Verna rolls heal: (13)+21: 34
GAME: Seyardu rolls heal: (1)+10: 11 (EPIC FAIL)
GAME: Mikilos rolls heal: (11)+3: 14

Telamon nods. "I ... expected as much. And I imagine the Charnese would be eager to seize such knowledge for themselves -- to say nothing of demons." At the boy's mention of his health, he nods firmly. "If you need to rest, I won't argue against it. You've been through quite the ordeal." He smiles again. "But perhaps we're getting ahead of ourselves. Is there a name I might know you by? 'The boy' seems terrible disrespectful, not to mention impersonal."

Mikilos knows magic. Human children? Distinctly less so. Humans are supposed to look like that... right? The threads of possibility, well, the wizard knows more than average, but that's not really a high bar to clear. The adventures with time travel led to some insight, but also muddies the waters of cause and effect. The whole of it all kinda evens out to slightly above average.

Aryia quirks a brow. Did he know already? Or was it that he would know what she would ask instead of comprehending her gestures? It mattered little here, as all would be told in time. She gives an up-nod towards those that file in and those that she knew before directing her attention towards the boy.

An empathetic frown crosses her lips. She glances to the two clerics. "Demon disease," she gestures slowly. "Sorry," she affords to the boy.

Perhaps... humor? "Do I even need to say what I want to ask?" she signs to him, quirking a smile to lift the mood somewhat. <Handspeech>

"Such foresight can be an invaluable advantage," Verna notes. "Most would seek it. Some, unsurprisingly, sought to hoard it." She studies him for a long moment before she continues with a frown. "Your ordeal took much from you." A nod sidelong in agreement with Telamon, offering, "His name is Hotaru." A name she can speak far easier at present. Back to him, she continues, "Rest would do you well. If you wish further aid, such is available. I would not have your ordeal continue further.” Verna does not make any inquiries, though does nod lightly to Aryia in acknowledgement of her gestures.

Seyardu squints, and sighs as she finds out little from a cursory examination, not having too much experience with the matter. Most children were sent to other healers, to avoid scaring them. "I see, that would explain why, yes."

"You can see the future in some capacity? That sounds difficult, for many reasons. Them trying to take you being one of them. Though we were led to believe it was only political in nature."

Jinks offers Aryia a lopsided smile and shallow nod, tilting his head and raising briefly-waggling fingers in 'hello' to the rest. He sucks at his teeth when Verna beats him to the big reveal, smile growing a bit wider. The glittering dandy considers Hotaru at length, fishing out his hipflask in the process. He's never met a profit he didn't like and he's curious if the rule persists for homophones. A little sip and he adds an addendum to the Mourner's revelation.

"Prince Hotaru, yes? Or is it King now?" The gnome wonders casually.

"My condolences," adds the gnome as an afterthought.

The boy waits for Verna to say his name, an introduction after a fashion, he nods politely to her for giving it. "I am Hotaru, a name given me by the temple I was born in before I was conceived. As for rest... I have no need of it at the moment. Instead I have need of you."

Yet he does not expound upon this immediately, allowing Aryia to sign her words and he nods once in agreement with her assessment of his health. "There are too many things that you _might_ ask. It is faster for you to ask them than that I try to guess what might be important to you this time."

He turns his dark eyes on Jinks, and almost smiles. "There is no prince of the lands I come from, and I have not yet been crowned king. The line of succession follows the power of foresight, not a familial line." He nods his head to the gnome, his expression falling to more serious lines. "Thank you."

Telamon nods slowly, dark eyes glinting. "Very well... Hotaru. You speak of need, and assistance... and here we are. What would you ask?" His lips curl slightly in a smile, as he glances around at the others. "I am fairly certain there is enough skill and talent here to solve most any problem. Though probably not instantly."

Mikilos quirks a brow. "Need of us? I am happy to offer assistance to those in need, but would know what it is that needs doing. Some deeds, as Telamon says, are more easily accomplished than others."

The new information makes the mute woman purse her lips and furrow her brows. Princes and foresight and the burden of all that coalesces with it. Aryia sighs some, tries to smile, but it falls into a worry skewed crooked thing.

She gestures off towards Telamon and Mikilos, echoing their sentiments with a vague motion before expounding with Hotaru's request for specificity. "I just want to know where my sister, A-"

She stops, looks over at Verna. Stares at her for a moment before shaking her head and looking back to the oracle. "A-Y-A, is," she asks. "Do you know anything about her? Mul'neissa woman, white braids, apparently hits like a wagon at full speed." <Handspeech>

Verna offers a brief pair of gestures to Aryia following the fullblood's own. "Speak freely," she assures before returning her attention to Hotaru. "What do you require?" She did already offer aid, and was not specific as to the form.

"If you're looking for a sword then Coyote laughs with you," Jinks offers, licking his lips. He slides the flask away and glances from the boy, to Aryia, and then Verna. His easy grin grows subtly and then he turns to watching the prophet, eyebrows quirking up in prompt.

Seyardu takes a step back to listen, and she looks to the others. "Yes, if you know anything about a mul'niessan monk from your time, any information would be invaluable. There was a copy of her there, made of magic, but where she is, is an unknown."

"And yes, we can likely assist you, with whatever it is you need help with. Though we will need more information to provide what we can."

"Yes, I know where she is." Offers Hotaru, his eyes darkening once more. "She is the one who was... responsible for me. But knowing where she is now will not aid you in your quest."

It does not sound by the tone of his voice as though his time spent with Aya was terribly pleasant. However he shakes his head and looks over at the two guards whom are standing behind him. "Would you two mind helping Wofira in the kitchen? She is about to set it on fire again."

The two guards look at one another and nod, hastening into the kitchen to apparently stop a fire in the making. The boy then leans forward slightly, lowering his voice somewhat. "Charn is about to offer Alexandria something which it can not resist in exchange for me. If I stay here... I will be returned to Charn. Yet I _must_ do something here - yes! The sword! I must find it and bring it back to the world." He pauses here, his eyes lowering. "And I have no desire to return to Charn."

GAME: Jinks rolls Perform/Sing: (14)+23: 37

Telamon sits back, dark eyes widening. He looks like he would laugh... but the boy is serious. "I... cannot imagine what Charn could offer Alexandria that would convince them to return you. I believe you, but the thought... well, it beggars the imagination." He ponders for a moment. "There are several angles. One, of course, is to disrupt whatever Charn plans to offer." He gives a wry grin. "Hard to make a deal if some cutpurse had emptied your pockets."

Mikilos considers a few moments. "If you wish to leave this room with the authorities of Alexandros not knowing... well, I take it you knew something of the options. And if I get to screw with Charn in the process, so much the better. Would it be in your character to send everyone away and meditate quietly for say, a couple hours?"

Aryia did not like that answer. Her jaw tenses some, and her eyes sharpen. "It is not her. It is her body being controlled. I need that body. But apparently that won't help." <Handspeech>

It felt like the answer was just a leap away, and she missed it, right out of reach. It. Was. Right. There!

She bites her knuckles and forces herself to breathe through her nose. Ignoring the plight about to develop in the kitchen.

She glances back to him as the room is vacated. And others chime in about politics. She couldn't care less for that. "Sw-rd? Wh-t f-ck-ng sw-rd?" she hisses, still steaming but reigning herself in.

Verna suspects that much of the youth's time prior was not pleasant. As well, "I share many of his doubts," she concurs with Telamon, "yet that is tempered with knowledge of the most zealous Charneth or, worse, the cult." There is less distinction between the two as of late. "Such is not as unlikely as we might prefer."

After Jinks prophecizes in a fashion and Hotaru confirms it, her head turns to the gnome. Obviously he has some knowledge, thus she looks to him expectantly. As she awaits, her hands move in gesture. "Perhaps there is other knowledge that shall help." An assurance, or an alluded inquiry of her own?

"I wish to say that they would not do that, but Alexandria does not have the best track record with supporting slavery and imprisonment, and for many, their greed knows no bounds." Seyardu sighs. "Yes, the person who kept you, it was not the one we look for, but their body."

Seyardu seems to rub their face for a moment, before they nod. "The marid spoke of a boy named Hotaru, yes. It cannot be coincidence, in relation to this sword. Though why it matters, I do not know."

"Dame Paenitia found a sword from the bottom of a dark well. She was told it was a sword for a king and she was not fit to wield it." Jinks explains with a look between Aryia. "She mentioned her quest to find a pure boy at the Resurrectionist celebration... and it's been a hot topic of conversation as we spend time together.

"... and then we have our own found prophecies," the gnome nods at Verna. "'Pull the sword from your soul. It will save your life. Sharpen that sword.' And so on with the notes from the margins you observed."

The gnome sniffs, spinning his platinum band of a coyote chasing its tail. "Getting you to the sword is a simple enough matter but you need to help us find Aya in return, regardless of what you think of her. Or Alexandria can hand you off to Charn for an old goat and a busted-down wagon for all I care." "They will make such an offer, for they know of and believe in my power more than Alexandria does." Hotaru explains to Telamon. "You are right. There are many angles to choose from."

Here he turns his eyes on Mikilos, as though expecting the man's offer and he nods once. "I am left alone in the bathroom, and I have requested many baths here to... cleanse myself." There is then, something of a window. His dark eyes turn to Aryia and he sighs at her words. "You are asking: Where is she? But knowing where she is now will not tell you where she will be tomorrow. You need her to come to you. You need her to come in her own body. Not in the false ones that have been made for her to use."

Hotaru looks deep into Aryia's eyes. "There are things for which she will risk life and limb. I am one of these things, but I warn you... She will kill again if you bring her to me, and I can not promise that you will not be one such laid low." He looks then at Jinks. "I am willing to risk my life for the sword, and in so doing bring the woman who has become a demon to you. Is that enough?"

Mikilos nods, considering a few moments, and starts to pull supplies from his pouches. Not much, a large blanket, a small jar with a live spider, a vial of quicksilver, a block of wax... "Do you have a location to go to in mind?"

Telamon exhales. "Alright. How do we tackle this?" His eyes flick to Jinks. "Where's the sword now? I really hope you're not going to say someplace like 'the palace'." He taps his fingertips together, thinking, his brow furrowed. "And how do we lure... the other, out? And set it right? We need to force the issue in some way, so that they can't send one of those... shells."

Aryia blinks at the boy, an eye twitching. "Okay smart ass, I know she's all around the fucking place."

She closes her eyes and clasps her hands together in front of her. Reign it in, girl. In. Out. "Sorry. Anxious."

She looks between the others, mostly to Jinks as her mouth loosens slightly. "... I was there. I know where it is. That sword was an asshole."

Glowing gaze settles on those knowing-too-much eyes of the prophet. "I know she will. I don't intend to use you as bait. But if you go for the sword and that makes her come... well..."

She looks to her hands, curling one into a fist. Was she ready?

No.

"... I'll do what I can. I don't know what I'm supposed to do, but I'll do what I can."

But she can try. <Handspeech>

"Not coincidence, it appears," Verna affirms to Jinks. Aryia receives a glance after Hotaru's explanation, though she expects the mul's attention to be focused thereupon. It is to Mikilos she then looks, as he retrieves items. It is a deeply inquiring observation, though she stops short of verbally inquiring. Instead, she offers, "If he believes the combination of himself and the sword are enough to draw her, it seems reasonable that they shall." She cannot offer any counter, and Hotaru would know more of that aspect even were he not considered by some to be a prophet.

A pause before she now inquires, "If the 'what' and 'where' are known, that leaves the 'when.'" Admittedly, there is also the 'how,' but that may need to be fluid. No plan survives contact with the enemy. Nor faces.

"We are all on edge about recent matters, yes." Seyardu nods. "But, please relax Aryia. We will sort this out."

How that would be, she did not know, but she had to believe something would work. "No, that is right. I would not put someone at risk as bait for this matter, especially when the one coming is potentially as dangerous as this fiend. There is a course of action for now at least, making sure this sword is secure. And then, well, what then? What is important about this sword, and why is it needed?"

"How does the creature in Aya's body find you?" Jinks wonders of Hotaru, glancing between Verna and Mikilos. "Most senses and divination magics can be foiled." The gnome walks closer to Hotaru, kneeling down and narrowing his solid-black eyes. He concentrates as his form shimmers into a reasonable approximation of the child prophet.

Fauxtaru turns and sucks his teeth, looking between the others. His voice is low so as to not carry from the room. "A cup game; illusion magics to foil the guards. Shove this one in a crate or barrel on the ride out." There's a deep breath and a nervous laugh. "... hope it wants him alive. If we can wrangle Un'eth she did a decent job of standing up to Aya before... and if it's out of the city we might not be all over the papers for leveling a block."

Jinks scratches his nose, standing out of the illusion and moving away from the center of the room. "I'll take the risk," he tells Seyardu. "Mulria wants to corrupt the boy in order to 'become innocent' herself. Whatever that means."

GAME: Jinks rolls Disguise+10: (17)+15+10: 42

"I do not know where the sword is. Its presence is hidden from me." He merely smiles at Aryia, taking her handsigns in stride. "I can say with certainty that she will send one of her... bodies, and when it fails she will come herself."

He spreads his hands somewhat and looks down. "I can not say a great many things and be truthful, but I have faith, and hope. Though..." He looks at Seyardu a moment. "I dare not say what purpose the sword has here. We are being observed."

He looks at the copy of himself and blinks at it before nodding. He pauses a moment and then looks at Jinks. "It is me. She can observe me at her leisure as she possesses many... parts of my body to use in her scrying. She watches us even now."

GAME: Mikilos casts Polymorph Any Object. Caster Level: 17 DC: 29
GAME: Mikilos casts Major Creation. Caster Level: 17 DC: 26
GAME: Mikilos casts Greater Invisibility. Caster Level: 17 DC: 25
GAME: Mikilos rolls craft/tailoring: (5)+15: 20

Mikilos tsks at Jinks. "Why risk you, when can risk something we don't care about at all?" The elf begins casting. First, turn the spider into a human. A human boy who looks like Hotaru, to be specific. Conjur some orange robes for the spider to wear. Offer the real Hotaru a blanket to wrap in, it's cold outside. A bit of invisibility, the sort that won't disappear if run into something, and lastly, instructions to the spider. "After we leave, act tired and grumpy; accurate, I know. Insist upon a bath. Relax and take a long hot bath, enjoy yourself. Indulge how ever you care to once your bath is finished."

Telamon stares, and then sputters something rude in oruch before responding. "You know, Hotaru, that's the sort of thing that really needs to be mentioned -before- the plotting starts. By Daeus's teeth and toenails, man, it's not like we're here on a lark. Tell us these things!" He leaps to his feet, although he's fortunately distracted by Mikilos's demonstration of masterful magic. "...I really need to learn how to do that."

Aryia blinks at the all the magics on the display, but at this point, she's become numb to it as she pinches the bridge of her nose. "And this is why the city hates wizards, Mikilos, for fuck's sake... tell us shit before you do it."

But her ears press against the sides of her head at the information about being watched. "For the love of..."

She twists around on the ground, looking at the air for... anything. But gives up and ends up signing to nothing, "Hey Aya. I know it's not you, but it's part of you."

There's a lot of mixed emotions on her face. A lot of things she wants to say. To not say. To do. Instead, she settles on what she does best. She scowls.

"I'm going to break your fucking jaw over my knee so gods damn hard that you'll be biting your eyes for a fucking decade."

Ah, sisterly love. <Handspeech> Verna blinks at the magics; Mikilos' were somewhat telegraphed, at least, but not Jinks'. She then frowns at the belated mention of scrying. The action order of act, discuss, plan, and receive details is slightly out of optimum chronological order. On the other hand, her question of 'when' was possibly just answered.

"Well, there is no lack of possibilities and a projected course is rather clear." It seems they only need to draw her out and defeat her. Twice.

Seyardu blinks, and she looks around for a moment, before she shakes her head and sighs. "Mikilos, that is a good idea, but we were just told we are being actively scried upon. So if you have any further ideas, save them for when they will not immediately be unraveled. And, yes. This is important to know."

"She may not bother with the simulacrum again, but we should not count on that. Since the last time, it was dealt with fairly quickly, but there is no guarantee a second time."

"... every time..." Jinks mutters under his breath, trailing off into rapid, clipped gnomish syllables. For those who understand the bard's mothertongue it's clear that omniscience is becoming something of a peccadillo. He glances at Verna and gives a little helpless laugh, shrugging. "At some point I'll come to expect our play's villain to be looking over my shoulder," he apologies.

Hotaru shrugs. "It did not seem important." Indeed to him it does not. "If we go now, the illusion will fool the guards, and your... sister will come and find us as soon as we reach our destination." His gaze goes a bit distant for a moment, his eyes actually clouding over so that they look gray rather than black. He is silent until the eyes return to normal and then he shakes his head. "But if this is the path you wish to take, you must do so quickly as the guards will return soon."

Mikilos shrugs. "We're not being scried by the Alexandros leaders we need to leave this house. One barrier at a time."

Telamon nods. "Alright. Let's -go-, then. See if we can lay a trap and maybe we'll get lucky." He looks at Aryia in particular. "Are you ready for this?" he says, his expression sympathetic. "You're not allowed to die, by the way. I think 'Lana has plans for you when we're finally ready to tie the knot."

Verna looks to the others after the presentation of the ultimatum, as it is. It is not precisely what she expected when she ventured here for information, and yet, "I am prepared and willing, if we are to act now." Despite the fact that it may delay an arranged meet for tea or a meal. There shall be ample opportunity for rescheduling.

Aryia glances to Jinks, her chuffing and motioning, "You can say that again," about his mother tongue speak. She looks to the others as they say their piece, and her anxiety sky rockets. Now? Now??

Her eyes widen. Heart racing. "Oh /fuck/ me," she signs crudely, getting to her feet. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck. No I'm not /fucking/ ready."

She settles her gaze on Telamon, her gulping. Fifty percent fear. Fifty percent pissed. "I don't want anyone to die. I want my sister." <Handspeech>

She starts shoving her arms through her jacket and buckling it up. "F-ck-ng m-g-c w-th -t's b-llsh-t scry-ng -nd -t's b-ll-sh-t s-l s-ck-ng-" she hisses out in her native tongue, yet, despite that, all could understand her tirade if they could pick it apart. <Undercommon/Tongues>

Verna adds, aside, to Jinks, "You should learn of the time that I attempted to scry upon the archfiend...

"A reminder that Aya killed her lover with one punch and stood up to the most powerful shaman I've ever seen transformed into the biggest dragon I've ever seen," Jinks mutters with a pointed look between Hotaru and Telamon. The gnome is well aware of the capabilities of the others in the room and how they eclipse his ability.

"If you wouldn't mind giving me a ride, Aryia, concentrating on this will slow me..." He's staring at Hotaru as the last syllables take on a lyrical lilt, one bejeweled hand waving through the air to strum gossamer strands of the Weave into the visible spectrum. He clicks his tongue and motions for the prophet to move with his free hand. Fingers lace through the threads and he twists, tugs, and laces them together. With one last pull he finishes the spell and a replica of Hotaru sits on the floor in the boy's place.

GAME: Jinks casts Major Image. Caster Level: 12 DC: 21

Hotaru doesn't hesitate, following close behind Jinks. He's invisible now, so... no one can see him. But he's there! The guards reenter the room, one of them holding a singed hat and Wofira enters with a pot of tea that... also looks singed. "Will you folks be staying for tea?" She asks brightly.

Telamon smiles broadly at Wofira and the guards. "Alas, I have a prior engagement, but thank you for the offer. Time, however, waits for no one, and so I must be on my way." He gestures to the others. "And thank you for the audience, sir. It was most illuminating." He does give the singed pot... and the hat... a quick double take.

Mikilos smiles to Wofira. "Thank you, no. We would not wish to impose, and should act before free will moves the probability of possibility more than prophecy can predict."

Aryia finishes buckling up her jacket, her looking over to Jinks with a horrified expression, like this was the first time she's heard of this. "F-ck, f-ck F-ck-" <Undercommon, Sildanyari, Kulthian/Tongues>

She freezes, a hand outstretched to the minstrel as she about to pick him up by the scruff. She glances to Seyardu, gulping as her friend tries to calm her before she gives a shaky smile. "... no thanks, I.. uh... have to have dinner with my stove and left my girlfriend running," she motions quickly, flustered. <Handspeech>

Verna dips her hood to the returning Wofira. "My apologies and gratitude, but I have duties to attend," she excuses herself as she turns to likewise depart. She does not fully note Aryia's signs properly, or believes she did not, as her interpretation is ... flawed.

"All this talk of prophecy gives me a headache," Jinks admits distractedly, tapping at his temple as he walks with the rest towards the door. He glances back for one last look at the prophet child (or illusion, depending on your perspective) and then falls into step with the rest. He has the shortest legs out of the group and splitting his attention isn't helping him hustle.

"Your offer is appreciated, but we will need to stay for tea another time." Seyardu offers with a wave to the gnome. "We have learned much from them, and the importance of their return makes sense. Please be careful of any further dealings with Charn, they can be forceful of negotiations. but if you are half the diplomat you said you were, that will not be of issue."

With that she makes her way outside, waiting for the others if needed.

You make your way out of the house with none the wiser as to your trick. Seems the coyote is with you tonight. You slip down the street, and Hotaru, being the child he is keeps close to you adults. Specifically Jinks and Mikilos. As if their magic might wear off due to a lack of proximity.

Now... It seems that you've some choices to make.

-End