Water Spider
Log Info
- Title: Water Spider
- Emitter: Cryosanthia, Zeke
- Characters: Cryosanthia, Dorne, Elleandra, Faranmidahn, Zeke, Durrankar, Un'eth
- Place: A07: Fernwood Pub
- Time: Wednesday, March 25, 2020, 9:55 PM
- Summary: Various patrons are hanging out at the Fernwood Pub when an unexpected sith-makar arrives. Zeke, the blue-scaled shaman with the artificial limbs. Cryosanthia is immediately interested in speaking with him, and the conversation draws in Faranmidahn, the lucht knight. Elleandra is trying her hand in the kitchen, with her lover Kamaria eventually joining her. A stoic knight arrives, followed soon by Durrankar, the silver-scaled sith-makar warden of Mictlan. His injuries from the battle with Kol are healed, but the missing scales pull the conversation in that direction as the group reviews mistakes made. Un'eth, Durrankar's cihuaa, arrives and chastizes him for leaving Mictlan while he offers that it was for Elleandra's great chicken recipe. The sith-makar leave, the elven chefs retire upstairs and the remaining adventurers examine Zeke's map which suggests something is wrong with the water supply. They fetch a glass of water and cast some spells on it. It immediately turns into an ooze and attacks Faranmidahn. She uses her Detect Magic to try and understand it, while Cryo, Dorne and Zeke beat it off her with staff and logs from the fire. They are all successful, although Cryo is quite injured. Faranmidahn discovers the creatures are made of Universal Magic, something hitherto unknown. Exhausted, they retire, determined to put this knowledge to good use.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-<* A07: Fernwood Pub *>--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
he common room of the Fernwood Pub dominates the inn, spacious and airy because of the high, vaulted ceiling. Ornately carved beams of dark, polished wood form a lattice overhead, supporting the arched roof two storeys above the floor. To the right of the double-door entry is a spiral staircase, winding upwards to a balcony that rings and overlooks the main area. Large windows at this level grant an excellent view of the river to the west and colorful market stalls to the north and east. An air of coziness is salvaged by keeping the pub dimly lit; parchment-shrouded mana lanterns hang at intervals from the base of the balcony, nestled amongst lush, magically propagated ivy and ferns that grow over this false demi-ceiling and the struts that support it.
The bar is sleek and simple, comprised of meticulously polished black lacquer. Tables are set under the darker niches formed by the balcony floor as well as on the balcony itself. A few are deliberately sized to accommodate halflings and gnomes, but the majority are meant for human-sized individuals. A large common table is on the main floor, set before a semi-circular stage situated against the western wall. Beside it, with pipes mounted upon the wall and running up past the balcony and almost to the ceiling, is a refurbished pipe organ made to look like the one lost when the Fernwood was destroyed during the Merkabah Siege.
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-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Appearing, in Order =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Cryosanthia 6'7" 245 Lb Sith-Makar Female A dashingly tall, lithe white lizardgirl with tattoos. Dorne 5'10" 210 Lb Human Male Powered blue tabard and white pants. Elleandra 5'4" 108 Lb Wild Elf Female Blue-haired, green-eyes, Sylvanori in green leather. Faranmidahn 3'3" 35 Lb Halfling Female Albino Lucht woman in black leather armor with a BIG spider Zeke 6'8" 239 Lb Sith-Makar Male A blue-scaled sith-makar in shadowy robes Durrankar 7'0" 398 Lb Sith-Makar Male Silver Sith-makar with blue eyes Un'eth 6'2" 275 Lb Sith-Makar Female An ebon-scaled female Sith-makar -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
It's a little after dinner. The Alexandrians who come to the Fernwood Pub for daily supper have come and left, the patrons at this time are more interested in drinking, socializing, or seeing what performances might happen on the open stage.
Might happen. So far tonight, no one has gotten up.
Outside it's a little chilly and there's a wind, and a light rain. So there's a small damp section near the door where no one is sitting. The servers tonight are the half-sil and the sith-makar, and a few tempting scents waft in occasionally from the kitchen. It seems like the run of Gunpowder Chilli is over, and something more meat and potatoes like is on the menu.
As the servers are mostly running drinks, they have time to themselves. The half-sil is perched on a barstool, flirting with the Bartender again, and the sith-makar is standing by the stairs dancing in place. She's also doing a little tap-tap percussive dance and humming something that is occasionally interspersed with her singing, "White Dragon," quietly.
Elly comes down the stairs with a spring in her step and a smile that is positively beaming. Her hair, usually braided, is flying free behind her. When she reaches the bottom of the stairs, she pauses, takes in a deep breath, and lets out a sigh of pure joy. Upon closer inspection, her smile is a bit silly, and it's only when she lets out her sigh completely that she realizes that she's not alone.
"Good evening, m'lady" she offers, adding a playfully deep curtsey to Cryosanthia. "I trust you are having an enchanted evening."
And Elly is.. a ridiculous lovestruck girl. Newlywed? Close enough. Great tease target.
The door opens slowly and cautiously allowing a brief burst of cold and a trickle of water. As Zeke strides into the tavern he pulls down the hood of his cloak, revealing his blue scales and black horns arching over his head. His green eyes look warily over those in the establishment before alighting on the fact that there are two places where there are few peopl. The bar itself, and here by the door. With a lift of a claw he waves to Cryosanthia, a welcoming greeting though he doesn't call across the space to her. That would be rude. Instead he shuffles over towards the wet table as if he might sit down there instead.
There might have been a soft, light voice raised before the pub door swings shut once more. Several moments later, the door opens once more, allowing entrance to a small figure, shrouded in a black hooded cloak traced in spiderweb designs, what is exposed of her skin is a pinkish off-white. The little Lucht knight sidles from the doorway proper and kneels down, squeezing water from the shag shrouding her shin, then switching to the other for the same.
"Mmmhmm! Love is in the air. Or something. This one is feeling energized." Cryosanthia grins conspiratorially at Elleandra, "You are looking well."
She looks automatically at the door as she hears it open. Thump, Thump! Her tail bangs the banister and wall with her surprise.
The sith-makar thumps her tail properly in greeting, and she does call across the pub. "Shaman Zeke! Peace on your Nest! Don't sit there. Over here, by the fire, it's much nicer! Unless you want the cold wind when the door opens?" She immediately heads his way, not that the half-sil server was about to move.
As if prophesied, there is a slight wash of rain when the lucht knight enters. Cryo calls a greeting to her as well, "Faranmidahn! Peace on your Nest, sit anywhere."
Dorne is slow moving or he may have bumpped into the Lucht. Quickly He wipes off a deep navy traveling cloak. Adjust his Hickory staff stepping within. Dark handsome eyes glance toward Elly.
Zeke quick-steps further into the room to get out of the way of the door. Cryosanthia's words draw the blue-scaled sith further into the room, looking slightly abashed but somewhat pleased with the welcome. He doesn't thump his tail, but it gives a motion as though it /might/ thump. He's happy to see her and he ducks his head toward her. "Peasssce on your nessst." He moves further in as more people gather into the room behind him, nervousness making his tail flick. "Ahhhh, yesss perhappsss you are right. Further in yesss?"
Elleandra slides aside of the tail with practiced ease. "I am well, and there haven't been any more complaints now that they gave us a new room." She laughs impishly and jumps a bit when the Chef shouts for her. "Yeah, I promised that I'd help tonight."
She grabs Cryo in a brief hug and then rushes off, "I'm coming!" After some discussion in the back on the nature of timing, Elleandra takes over and the chef, at last, gets a break.
Faranmidahn looks up as there is heavy movement so close to her, though all she really gets a view of is the hem of her hood. Thankfully, it veileds her slightly frustrated(if likely adorable) pout before her hands lift to smooth back the enshrouding garment and she stands. She blinks owlishly up to the human and ventures a, "Hello!" before she turns a beaming smile toward the hail of "Miss Cryo, hi!" before she pads off on tiny feet toward a relatively open table to set her longsword upon before climbing into the associated chair.
Dorne reguards the dark one kindly, "Hello," He slowly steps closer to the fireplace.
Cryo returns the hug, a quick and friendly one with a little dance around Elly that positions her near Zeke. She dips her head to the other sith-makar, taking his hand to lead him around the tables to a choice, warm one that is near the fire. She knows the best route, having become very familiar with the clearance issues and spacing. The Fernwood is by no means tight in its layout, but extra space for tails and sith-strides can vary.
"Yes! Yessss. Further in. There are drinkss, Foods! This one is very pleased to see you here. How have you been? Your studiess, going well?" She is very happy to see another sith-makar in the pub. Clearing a space for him to sit, moving some furniture. "These benches are best for tailss."
With the business this time of night not terribly interested in large meals, Elly turns her mind to enticing some additional business. After strapping on an apron to protect her clothes, she gets busy. The nice thing about working this late is that she can experiment with the leftovers to make something new. She is not one to be left wanting for inspiration, and tonight she thinks of things that go well with a mug of ale and begins putting together a spicy sauce to mix with some fried chicken. The scent of it pours out of the kitchen as she works.
Dorne softly holds the staff to one shoulder as he warms his hands quietly. He seems both quiet now and thougtful. As the scent hits his nose , he does smile toward the kitchen.
It is totally unexpected. The taking of his hand. It freezes him where he stands so that her first tug forward actually causes him to stumble. Before his brain realizes that it's his crystal hand she's taken and that he can't feel her scales against it at all. Still Zeke's heart races in his chest with nearly paralizing fear. He doesn't realize where she's leading him until they're there and he blinks rapidly to catch up. His tail behind him is ridged and his green eyes are overly wide. He smells like fear, and there's nothing he can do about the croak in his voice when he finally manages to speak. "Sssssa."
It's a sound of acknowldegement, but he feels vaguely proud of himself for managing anything meaningful at all. The blue-scale sits down, taking the chance to take his hand back and still the too-rapid beating of his heart. She hadn't been attacking him! Embarassment joined fear and his tail gave a little nervous flick. "Thisss one isss pleasssed asss well. To ssssee you and perhapsss to ssshare wordsss. You are very kind Cryosssanthia. Thisss one hasss been... very hard at work."
The little woman smiles beamingly over the edge of the table with a, "Thank you, Miss Cryo!" as she fluffs her hair out from under her cloak. She withdraws a tiny kerchief and starts to wipe the moisture off the longsword and scabbard she's lain upon the table. The scent fills her eyes with wonder and she glances toward the kitchen for a moment then considers the clientelle at large for a moment in curiosity.
Dorne slowly stoops down staring into the flames all the while idlely cleaning off a fine pair of traveling boots.
Fear? Cryosanthia's pupils widen. Her head twitches, she looks around for threats. The realization dawns, Zeke is afraid of her? She suppresses her reactions, keeping her tail jaunty. Hopefully her scent is a relaxing, calming one. She has been overdoing it a little with her cleaning gloves, so it might be hard to pick up. Softskins do not react as well as the people to a reeking sith-makar. She hooks another bench with her tail and drags it over, so she can glide down and sit across the table from Zeke.
"This one would share wordss. Tell me of your work?" She watches him, her own tail swaying neatly from side to side. Cryo checks over her shoulder, to ensure Dorne is out of range. She wouldn't want to bump him or his staff. "It hass been some time, have you found thingss in the books?"
Elleandra sings scraps of old songs as she works. In no time she's lost herself in the joy of creating something new. She doesn't even notice the bartender peering back at her, but without even looking his way she bats his hand away from the chicken. "Something is missing," she says to herself suddenly. But Elly remembers her curious find in the market earlier. A dark-green skinned fruit she found in the market, shaped somewhat like a large egg. There's a triumphant laugh from the kitchen as she starts to fry wedges of it.
The door swings open to reveal a silver sith makar walking his way into the tavern. He looks like he's been through a bit as, on his chest, his skin is showing...instead of scales. He scratches his chest...where the skin is, as if he's not used to it. He still makes it to the bar....and orders a bit of foul water.
Even as Cryosanthia sits down Zeke seeks control over himself. It is an old fear and one that he wishes would fade. Self-consiously he shifts, his right claw rising to hide his left arm and its crystaline nature from sight only to realize what he is doing and push it backwards instead. He is inside now. He reminds himself of this firmly and nods politely to Cryosanthia. "Thisss one hasss learned much about demonsss of late, but perhapsss more about the fae. Though what issss truth of them and what isss fiction isss hard to determine. The booksss sssay that they can not break bondsss of wordss. Yet they enjoy playing pranksss on the unwary. It issss said that their wrath issss a great thing to fear, for they do not forget grievancessss... And thisss one wonderssss from thessse wordsss of wisssdom if Alexandria hasss done sssomething to earn thiss Misssstresss' ire. They are immortal creaturesss these fae. It could have happened a long time ago perhapsss?"
He looks up as the door opens yet again and lifts a hand toward Durrankar in greeting. As the other sith approaches the bar the blue-scale offers greeting. "Peassssce on your nessst."
The door's opening draws a Lucht's attention and she stares at the silvery sith, recognizing the absense of scales through deductive reasoning as a Bad Thing. She looks with sympathy, tracking his advance, though she isn't equipped for mending injury, her mystical gifts are simply of a different direction. Faran swallows her heart, but doesn't quite get the 'staring' is rude, thing.
Cryosanthia sways a little, when she overhears the scraps of songs from the kitchen. When Zeke speaks, her concentration focuses on him, her hands folded on top of each other and resting on the table. At first glance, they look normal, a second glance shows she has on her white-scaled gloves, which blend remarkably well with her own. There's also a gold ring that stands out, glittering in the light.
Her head bobs, and she takes it in. "Thiss one is still sstuck with a demon, we hope to resolve it ssoon. I have seen the pranks played, a northerner had a bag of acornss that looked like gems. Your ssusspicions seem valid, some sslight in the past, very possible. Who would we speak to, to determine this? Or, the library, perrhapss? This one does not know history well."
The door draws her attention, she looks over, then sits upright. Cryo thumps her tail. She stares, but she usually does that, "Durrankar! This one is glad to see you. You are... Peace, yess. Come here. This one will get drinks! You look to need one."
Dorne caually glances to Cryosanthia then to the Kitchen. Hungry? However his eyes fall back to the fireplace.
Elleandra's work is ready not too much later. After peeking out to get a quick headcount, she prepares several small plates, each with a small cup of spicy sauce and another of a creamy, tangy sauce, some of the fried avocado, and just enough chicken to entice the appetite for a full order. These are loaded onto a tray. She eyes the thing carefully, then sets aside her apron and smooths her dress. With a last addition of some parsley to each cup of the red, spicy sauce, and a slight adjustment of the fried avocado wedges, she raises the tray to her shoulder and steps out of the kitchen and makes her way to the tables. Her first target is Dorne, since she catches that glance at the kitchen.
Durrankar thumps his tail to Cryosanthia and Zeke. "Peace on your nests." He then looks to Faran. "On yours as well." he says as he gets his drink. "In case you are wondering, Speaker....I am fine. Thanks to Cihuaa....I am much better. But she cannot regrow scales. That takes time.
Zeke tilts his head at Cryosanthia. "Ssstuck with a demon?" This is perhaps then news for the blue-scaled sith. "Thisss one might suggessst that we asssk the eldersss of Alexandria, but there are none ssssuch to asssk. Thisss one hasss notisssced sssomething though."
With those words he rifles around in his robes for a moment with his right claw, eventually pulling out a piece of paper. It is clearly a map of Alexandria with little dots on it. The dots are different colors. Some red, some black, a few blue. "Thisss one hass noticed a pattern in the attackssss. Ssssee?" He points to the Soldier's defensce where the dots are thickest. "Thisss plasssce hasss been attacked several timesss while otherssss... not sso much."
He nods to Durrankar and eyes his wound with the eye of a healer. There is nothing that he can do to regrow the scale either, but they will return in time. "Thisss one can tell you faced a fearsssome foe. Who wassss able to wound you ssso badly?"
Faranmidahn blinks but bows her head politely, "And on yours, sir!" is her chipper return. She relaxes, seeing that Miss Cryosanthia and her friend seem to have the injured Sith well to hand, though of course, the mention of a demon brings her back to a somewhat disturbed state, "More demonry afoot?" Yes, demonry. The small knight grasps her longsword and slips down off of her chair to pad over toward the conversation at large as the nice elf lady is starting to bring out very... interesting... No! The innocent, Faran, think of the innocent! Even with the mouselike little squeak of her tummy, which sets her cheeks ablaze, she mushes on with, "Is there anyway I can assist?"
"Un'eth! This one has met her." Cryosanthia laughs, grinning widely with all her sharp teeth on display, "You will be fine! Sshe hass scaless beautiful enough for both of you. This one is glad to know, that was a terrible battle."
The white-scale nods to the blue-scale sith-makar, looking over the map, and the dots. She makes a space for Faranmidahn, letting her look it over as well. "Oh, this is helpful. Very much ssso."
"There was another attack, at the Soldier's Defense. Two-day ago. Kol Demontyr appeared... Thiss one... did not do much successful or of note. Thiss one would not tell Durrankar's story. Join us please." Cryo scrunches up a little in her seat, tucking her elbows and tail in.
Elleandra eyes Dorne suspiciously, "You remind me of a friend of mine. Kain Silverhands, he's a merchant. He liked to turn me down as well. Said he was building my character, but I know he was just afraid I'd charge him for something." With a sudden, amused laugh she plops a plate on a table right by Dorne and says, "I am going to walk away from the plate now. What happens next is up to you." With a satisfied nod and a wrinkle of her nose, she laughs again, turning her attention to the gathering of the Sith-Makar. She has a kind of hungry person radar that guides her. She lowers herself very carefully so she can offer a plate to Faranmidahn first. "All yours, dear."
Dorne smiles and laughs for a few moments. He stoops down agian. He blows on the 'samples', - Well this is fried for real! Little would most know his attention is mostly focused on talk of the attack on the Hospital.
Faranmidahn blinks up into the elf lady's eyes and is, for a moment, about to accept the large plate with her free hand as well as the one carrying her sword. She ahems almost silently and quickly clasps the scabbarded weapon back upon her belt before she takes up the meal afforded her with a bow, "Many thanks, Miss..." she glances sidelong at the floor as she tries to think of any mention of the nice lady's name, but is forced to fall back to, "Miss!" Big, if slightly awkward smile, then she looks to the assorted Sith, "I have... seen this Kol Demontry up close... I am glad you came away from an encounter with him in as good a condition as you have."
"Yes. The vampire Kol appeared. Myself and two others tried to take him on directly while the rest took on the shadow creatures he spawned." Durrankar says as he sits down and recounts the tale. "We had a good chance of stopping him, even after I had defeated a good number of the shadow creatures using sunlight." He then lets out a bit of steam from his nose. "then Kol turned one of our allies against us. I'm not quite as upset at the wounds...the wounds will heal. It's the fact that said ally didn't suddenly question why his allies were so suddenly his enemies and question those thoughts. He just carved his sword into me....and didn't stop. I barely got away. I few as best I could to Mictlan...where Un'eth...my cihuaa, cared for me....."
Zeke wags his tail, pleased to have been of assistance. There are very more red dots than black dots, and far fewer blue dots than anything else. He is distracted however, from his thoughts, and his map by the appearance of food near to him. It's the smell of course. The smell lures him and reminds him that he has come to this place for food because he has not eatten all day. So his eyes are drawn like magnets toward the food. But he will be patient enough to see if he is offered any. Besides, there is Durrankar's story to listen to.
"Thisss one isss sssorry to hear sssuch wordsss, but recievess them. Remember well that vampiress can have nearly complete control over their thrallssss. It isss in the mind." He points his right index claw at his temple and then shakes his head. "With the Soldier's Defensssce right there. It isss a sshame none thought to get a shaman to heal thisss alliesss thoughts."
"This one is sorry Durrankar, that she was not more help." Cryosanthia says, shuffling around on her bench so there is more room at the table in general, and achieving the goal of moving closer to Zeke. "The demon went through my armour like it was paper. I was all evening repairing it. My blade failed. Our besst effort was to flee. Even the way to the Soldier's Defense was barred for a time. This one cannot speak for our alliess spell choicess..."
Cryosanthia looks down, back at the map mostly, although she is also scratching at the table. "What do the colours mean, the red, blue and black? Sseverity, types? The demon isssssue I have, isss contained. Ssoon over, one hopess." She taps her gold ring on the table.
Cryo waves to the half-sil server, signals her for food and points at her table.
"My apologies, you can call me Elly," replies the Sylvanori to Faranmidahn. She rises then to look at the gathering of Sith-Makar. With a knowing smile she sets a plate in front of Zeke, then Durrankar, and finally Cryosanthia. With that, her tray is almost empty. "Let me know if you want more," she says gently. Heading back to the kitchen, she stops to give the bartender his plate as well. She scolds him softly, "Don't try to sneak a taste when I'm working, please." Perching there at the bar, the empty tray is set aside as she waits. The sight of the server being ordered into action makes Elle hop back into the kitchen, eager to get back to it.
Faranmidahn reaches up to put the plate on the table as Cryo made room for her. Then offers a smile up to "Elly! It's nice to meet you, you can call me Faran!" As the elf moves on to attend her duties, the Lucht drags a chair into position and spends a moment climbing up onto it, standing at first to regard the map.
Dorne might seem boring but hey at least he is loving the sample. Yep!
Durrankar says, "You were just fine, Speaker. Kol is just a monster. We had a chance to take Kol out, that's why he turns allies on each other, and he usually targets the weakest willed, and the strongest fighters. So the choice is take on Kol, and die before you can get a hit in, Take out and likely kill your friend, or flee and Kol lives. Be glad it was me and not you, Speaker. He would have killed you without a second thought.""
Zeke glances toward Cryosanthia, his tail giving a little flick, and nods. "Thisss one hasss marked incidentssss of misssssing people who are thought to be taken by the vampire in red." He points to several of the little spots. They seem largely random. Perhaps purposefully so, and the number of them is high enough to make someone sick thinking of how many people the vampire might have absconded with. "Black are incidentssss where the vampire hass fought adventurersss. Blue isss where he wassss sseen in the pressscence of demons."
Very few of the last indeed. Yet there were tight groupings around the Temple of Vardama and the Soldier's Defense. Zeke focuses on them again and then shrugs, returning his attention to the food which... he very much wants. One taste instantly convinces him that he should order more, so when the server is waved down he orders more of the same and some tea. Then he shifts the map so that others can see it while he subtly tries to fill his belly. There is nothing really to be said on what Durrankar says. It is far to clearly true.
Dorne politely asks for some warm lemon tea? Paying a copper?
"Yesss... thiss one knowss..." Cryo slouches in her seat, and there is a bang beneath the table as she moves a foot wrong. Her head jerks, but she makes no noise. Her hands are moving nervously, her fingers through patterns, and without thinking one of her tattoos glows and she casts her Arcane Mark on the table where she was absently tracing it. She hisses quietly, "Sscaless."
The palescale forces herself to focus on the map, and the things Zeke is saying. She nods, focusing on the dots. So, so many dots. She pushes her plate of food over to the blue-scale sith, "You can have mine. Thiss one iss not so hungry. Those are a lot of disappearances. One worriess more now. Why the Soldier's Defense? Does the plague, the plague victims, empower him? Does he whisper bargainss to them when no one watches?"
Cryo looks up suddenly, over at Durrankar, "Would Mictlan spare me a Swiftclaw? Thiss one trrips back and forth often, the time expossed concernss me."
Faranmidahn nods gravely and leans over the table, bracing herself with one hand as she sticks her finger against one dot in particular, "That's where I saw him. He and his ice demon... pal?" Cryo's actions draw her eye, openly concerned eyes, but she straightens instead of crawling over the table to ask, "Are you alright, Miss Cryo? I can have Torrent barded within twenty minutes if you wish someone to watch your back along the way. He can carry me quite swiftly!"
Durrankar looks to Cryosanthia softly, but shakes his head. "No. If you do not know how to handle them, they are very very nasty to train, even worse to ride. Ti can easily be said that not only does the swiftclaw have to be trained, but so does the rider."
There's some loud conversation coming from the kitchen, but the bartender isn't there, nor is the serving girl, at least not for longer than it takes to share the orders. Whoever it is talking to Elly, there's excitement in her voice which is punctuated by a fit of giggles. It is concealed for a moment with a sudden flicker and hiss of rising flame. With that extra burst of temperature the scent of the sauce again flows out of the kitchen in a waves and it mingles with the scent of frying chicken. Added to this sensory chorus is the sizzling of meat in a pan, and then still more giggling. Despite the antics, in no time at all plates are going out to those who order more food, this time with strips of salted beef and a mix of local vegetables to accompany them.
As food streams out, the bartender deals with the drink orders. Perhaps it's just coincidence, but it seems he is bringing his very best tonight, and his teas are crisper, his flavors more balanced and pronounced.
Elleandra runs house while the others plot vampire war and Cryo flirts with her boyfriend! Kamaria has snuck into the kitchen. Don't worry, they are being responsible. Elly would never allow food to be compromised. *grin*
Dorne ticks his head over toward the talk of a mount of some type. Refocuses for the moment on this fried chicken sampler.
Zeke blinks twice, but graciously accepts the food that is offered to him. "Thisss one thinksss that they do not empower him so much assss they may empower her? Thissss one hasss heard a theory. Thisss one doesss not know if it isss true. That perhapsss the plauge itssself givesss her power. If thissss isss ssso... placesss where the bodies and the sssick are, would be great sssourcesss of magic." He sighs. "Thisss one isss not versssed in thessse artsss. Ssso thisss one can not sssay for scertain. Perhapsss it iss merely where Alexandria isss weakessst. Ahhhh, thisss one thanksss you for the food." This last to the server who brought him the sweet and very good smelling tea along with more food.
Dorne cleans his hands quite well before standing slowly. He ponders then quietly steps somewhat closer toward the table which has the map. Softly griping the Hickory.
"This one is fine. This one may take you up on your offer Faranmidahn. Tomorrow, it is not needed tonight, I am staying over." Cryosanthia says, putting her hands in her lap, nodding at Durrankar's response. She looks in the direction of the Kitchen, perhaps hearing something, perhaps drawn by the smell and sound of sizzling meat.
Her attention turns back to Zeke, and she listens, attempting to absorb it all. Cryo attempts a meaningful response. "Well... the plague... leaps at magic cast? Eats it? One suppossess being able to store it, relay it, if it was a made plague, could that be a characterisstic? Is there a regular spacing, like, a frequent harvesting?"
The white-scale looks back at the lucht, "Yukia, you're thinking of Yukia Faran. Oh right, one should not speak their names. They can all read minds too, I think thisss iss widely known."
Dorne asks quietly with the faintess accent, "Are you sure it is known " His eyes brown his deameanor a hint more serious.
Faranmidahn blinks owlishly, "I didn't know that!" she says at the sith's warning, bringing a hand to her mouth in classic 'oh dear!' fashion. Granted, she didn't say the name, but she could have! Ahem. As the hand comes down, the arm folds across her middle and she bows, "I am staying at the chapterhouse for the Knights of the Purple Rose, I can meet you here at a certain time or you can send a missive to me there once you plan to leave." The mouse squeaks again, and, all ablush, the Lucht settles into her chair and reaches up over the edge of the table to grab some of that enchanting smelling chicken.
And grab at the wonderful smelling chicken, Durrankar does....putting some of it on a plate....and giving it to Faran. "As long as you give some to your spider, Friend Faran. I'm sure it would appreciate the meat." And with that, he grabs a couple of pieces himself, especially if it's still sizzling, and bites into it....tearing the flesh from the bone easily, and chewing....with his eyes open wide. "This is very good." he says before tearing another large hunk off.
With the work again handled, and probably for the night, Elleandra is free again to step out. For a time, she leans on the bar and looks at the customers-her customers. She is enjoying herself quite a bit, though she jumps suddenly when a dark-haired half sil steps out behind her. Elly shoots an accusing look at the half-sil and after exchanging some soft words, says more clearly, "Go on, I'll be up in a short while. Things are almost settled here." With that, Elly's companion begins to head upstairs, stopping along the way to watch Elly for a few more moments.
Elleandra turns her attention back to her guests and walks out to see how everyone is doing. She hasn't paid much attention to the talk of.. Bol? Zol? Vole? Mole? "Is everyone doing well?" she asks, doing her best to include everyone in the question while disrupting their battle plans(?) as little as possible.
"The timing ssseemsss more random. More like the attacksss that the vampire makess on the citizenssss. Frequent, but not on a ssset sschedual." Zeke is deep in thought now, clearly a scholor who is considering his own workds. "Thiss one..." He stops. Twists the map. Twists the map again. Blinks at it dumbly and pulls out a quill. In a matter of moments he has scribbled all over his own map and is stairing at it in agape. "The ssssewersss! There are... bodiesss of large watersss. Thisss one doesss not know the word? Here and here!"
He points to the two places most attacked. "They have... ressservesss here. There isss a word." That he can not remember. "That givesss thesse placess water when the water issss low. All."
He pulls out another map and lays it beside the other. A map with many, /many/ black dots. "Thisss one thinksss... That sssomething... sssomething isss in the /water/."
Faranmidahn smiles up past the table at the nice sith, "Thank you! He does love a good chicken, but... it really needs to be the whole thing. What he -really- loves is pig, though." The musing about reserves makes her think, "I think it's something like sastem... sisters, no... cistern... Cistern? I think?" she considers the blue one for a moment and inquires, "Wait, the water?" She looks to the bartender, "Do you draw your water from the city sources?" she asks, scrambling to her feet on the chair to be seen clearly.
"Oh. This one thought it was." Cryosanthia turns, looking over at Dorne's table, then to Faranmidahn. She explains to the middle distance without looking at either of them, anyone to be exact, sounding as if she's speaking by rote. "Demons can read minds, even the weak ones. This was tested and I was sure. They also walk Alexandria, disguised as softskins. You might see them with truesight. Calling their name attracts their attention and should be avoided. Things they have used are dangerous and should be destroyed."
Cryo nods at Elleandra, then looks back at the things Zeke is pointing out to her. She leans in, to peer at what he's drawn, and clearly is excited and engaged. "Cisterns. They are underground artificial lakes. Alexandria has these? With such a river through it? And you have a map for them? I love swimming, I know a water sprite!"
Elleandra watches Cryosanthia, then looks to Zeke. It's a weighing glance, bordering on suspicious. She steps back and tilts her head then, smiling. She almost says something, but holds it in. Instead, she looks to Durrankar, "Peace on your nest. Is there anything I can get for you before I start cleaning up the kitchen?"
Dorne 's dark eyes kinda narrow at implacations of the cities water supply. Sliently he ponders his next action.
"Demons are nasty types, but they can't completely disguise themselves. If one has a good sense of smell, they can be found." he says as he finishes a second piece of chicken. "No, Thank you. I must be heading back to Mictlan shortly anyways. Cihuaa would not be happy to know that I was not resting." He then looks to Cryosanthia and Zeke. "Hopefully I will learn this sharpear's recipe, and cook it for the hatchlings in Mictlan." He then looks to Elleandra and gives her the dish. "Can you tell me....Elleandra...is that your name?"
Zeke nods at the word Cistern. Yes this was the word he was looking for. A word that meant large body of held water. "Yesss Alexandria hasss thesse becaussse of timesss of crissis. Alsssso the river isss not alwaysss good water to drink?" There were times when it was muddy and times where it was frozen. It was good for many things, but it was not a perfect source of clean potable water. The attention on himself is immediately noticeable and it makes him uncomfortable enough that his tail wags back and forth. "Thisss.... could be very bad newsss."
Elleandra smiles at Durrankar, "That is correct, I am Elleandra. And if you wish to learn how to prepare this, I'd be happy to teach you." She offers a curtsey, "I'm really flattered that you enjoyed it this much." She doesn't know Sith-Makar that well, but she can tell he is not quite well. "And I know it's none of my business, but if you are meant to be resting, perhaps you ought to be. Recovery is important, and those we love can be.. very protective of those they care for. Especially when they seem willing to do harm to themselves."
Faranmidahn frowns in thought at the musings from Cryo and her blue kinsman before she turns on the chair to ask, "Miss Elly, could you draw me some water? It won't take much, I'd just like to try something."
The door to the Fernwood opens to allow ... one who may never have entered it. Not in recent memory. For a dragon. Un'eth's snout pans as she scents the establishment, eyes drifting over those present while her tail flicks in agitation behind.
Eyes in the rear of the head. Unerring tracking by scent or mark through monsoons, sandstorms, or blizzards. An infallible sense of falsehoods. All races share great tales of the blessings upon those who have born offspring. Un'eth is a mother, even if she isn't HIS mother.
"Oh, those reasons make sense." Cryo agrees, looking over at Faranmidahn, then back at Zeke, finally Elly. She's curious about the water experiment now.
Cryosanthia jumps to her feet, her bench knocked over as she takes a ready stance, crouched with her arms spread, one blocking across the table, protective of... Zeke?
She recognizes who has entered, exhales, and calms down, crouching to set the bench back on its feet. She whispers to the blue-scale, "I thought it was..."
For a moment, just a moment, Zeke is with Cryosanthia. Especially with her jumping up to defend him because... well isn't that a surprise? That's the first time that he can remember someone doing that for him. It makes him heat, embarassment and... something else. If kindness had a scent it would be rising from Zeke right now. A soft warm scent. He looks at Crysanthia with understanding and also with respect for her desire. "Thisss one thanksss you." Quietly, more calmly than he feels.
Durrankar makes his way for the kitchen...before stops and sniffs once. "Cihuaa is here." He says before looking to Elleandra. "After you teach me the recipe, I must head home." he then blows out a bit of steam from his nose. "Peace on our nest, Cihuaa. I am going to learn a very tasty recipe from Elleandra here. When I recover, I shall cook it for you to try. It seems to require chicken."
Before Un'eth can argue about him being out of Mictlan in the first place, Durrankar's figure is replaced by a strangely accurate outline of him....and a sound effect that can only be described as 'NYOOM!' into the kitchen.
Faranmidahn is.. startled, by the sudden bolting upright of both Cryosanthia and her blue friend and, as she reflexively recoils, her knee encounters the back of the chair she's standing on and back and over she goes!
"Water? Certainly." Elleandra is in the process of getting it when Durrankar decides to ignore everything she just said and head to the kitchen now. "Umm, okay, but shouldn't you.." She pauses. "This is your Cihuaa and you are trying to run away into my.." And then he's already gone, and she's talking to the air. She grumbles to herself, "Men.. are always men, scales or no." Regardless, she gives Faran her water and with an impish grin not very quietly whispers to Cryosanthia, "You have a cute boyfriend. When I'm done dealing with this miscreant in my kitchen perhaps we can be properly introduced." And she's heading to the kitchen, looking a bit vexed.
Thud!
Cryosanthia inhales, very strongly. Closes her eyes, holds the breath, settles into her seat feeling warm and calm. Much closer to Zeke. She dips her nose apologetically. She takes his hand, squeezing it, holding the squeeze. "This one saw blue. Smelt female. Angry mother sscentsss. This one did not mean to over react, cause embarassment..."
Cry looks down, she's holding Zeke's sapphire hand. "You... can't feel this, can you?"
It's around about then Elleandra names Zeke as her boyfriend and Cryo simply freezes in a sort of shock, staring after the wild elf. She keeps staring even as she vanishes into the back and there's some ominous sounds.
Un'eth snorts as Durrankar expeditiously retreats. In his defense, he did immediately notice her, explained his presence where he should not be in a plausible manner, and even included a reference to recipes and his cooking... which he knows she is quite fond of. The combination appears to work: for now. Noting a recipe should not be overly strenuous, and they can discuss his travel here later.
With Durrankar temporarily indisposed, her attention is drawn to the other Sith-makar, now close to one another, as well as others falling off of chairs... "How odd..."
Dorne shifts his staff defensively; As there is a 'Thud!" ... Then he moves toward Faranmidahn! Slightly surprized but his brown eyes filled with warmth.
Zeke follows Cryosanthia's example, breathing deeply by habit and taking in her calming scent. Un'eth is less calming. The female is... terrifying if he were to look at her, to acknowledge her presence. He does not. He focuses on the food, and the more calming scents closer to him. Zeke looks down abruptly at Cryosanthia's words and wags his tail. To let her this close and to not feel fear fills him for a moment with pride. "Thisss one can not. But... it isss good." He shifts his crystal claw in hers and lets her know that though he can not /feel/ it he /knows/ it. Appreciates the meaning behind the action.
Then Elleandra speaks and Zeke freezes in place and cautiously looks toward Cryosanthia. "Thisss one apologizessses... Thisss one knowsss that thisss one issss..." His tail is frozen behind him. "Broken." His crystal claw gently unfurls from hers, and he glances away from both the female sith-makar.
Undignified. Simply. Totally. Undignified. It's unseemly for a knight to be seen on her head and shoulders and her legs arching forward over her to touch the floor. Once the world stops spinning, she'll certainly remember being told by her father to avoid such things. In the meantime, while the synapses reset, the little albino will rest there, tasting her brain.
Elleandra is known for sharing what she knows of cooking with great generosity. She's known for her gentle, encouraging words, and being extremely patient. None of that is apparent in this lesson, however. Tonight's student gets to have a lesson punctuated with pointed commentary on how rude it is to run away from someone who cares for you. Additionally there's a part where she interrupts explaining the importance of checking the saltiness with a five minute lecture on how lucky he is to have someone who cares so much about him and how disrespectful it is to go to a pub when such a person wants you to rest. "And off you go, first chance you get, to have some fun and leave her behind, knowing she's going to be worried sick about you!"
Dorne is now nearer the knight. He takes off one of his combat gloves. He takes a knee, "If your dizzy at all, may I help you?"
"Peace on your nests," Un'eth greets the Sith, and those about them, as she approaches, then passes. While her scent is not especially calm, it may well be less aggressive than the words and tone emanating from the kitchen. The kitchen that she approaches.
Faranmidahn makes a sort of inarticulate noise as something gets near her, then whatever precarious balance her body attained fails and she flops onto her side. Dribble.
It's the withdrawing of the claw that snaps Cryosanthia out of it. Motion coming back to her with first a blink, then her head seeking. Why did he let go? The last few moments of conversation replay in her head. She fixes Zeke with a stare, commanding him, trying to force the words into his head, over-writing years. "No. You're beautiful."
It's an instinctive response and she self-consciously realizes, perhaps too much. He's had bad experiences with forceful females. Cryo immediately knows she's likely got crazy eyes going on as well. She backs away before she terrifys him completely.
"This one is... this one is..." Think Cryo, think! Not crazy. Her head turns to follow Un'eth as she passes towards kitchen. Inhaling now is not helping, of course, the white-scale has, "... being most... inappropriate. I'm sorry..."
Normally, she'd retreat into the kitchen as an easy out, but that's a battlefield now.
It seems that Durrankar is a good cook, as even Elleandra eventually is reluctantly won over. "Okay, yes, that is very good. Hmph, you listen well when it comes to cooking. Apply this care to everything you do and you will be a joy to all who know you." There's some discussion about how to pick the fruit, "It should be soft, but not too soft. If it is too hard you must wait for it to ripen." She has to both clean up the kitchen and teach at the same time now. The chef will skin Elly alive if she leaves it less than spotless back there. She eventually pokes her head out, standing a bit more straight than she had when she sees Un'eth approach. "Peace on your nest," she says formally, adding a deep curtsey as the Sith-Makar approaches.
Dorne with no swift reply from the knight. He places a warm palm upon her forehead. Faintly whispers something unknown. And swiftly it is all cleared up. Less muss , and No Fuss!
Faranmidahn draws in a sharp breath and straightens at the man's touch, blinking wildly before sitting upright, bringing a hand up to her face as the string of drool snaps, "Huh-wha-what happened?" She frowns at the sensation her fingers are giving her and she dabs at her face quickly before she looks up at the human, a little embarassed as she realizes she somehow ended up on the floor. Ahem, 'Thank you, good sir!' <halfling>
Zeke blinks in the face of Cryosanthia's words said so forcefully. He's not afraid of her in the least. There's no scent of anger in her at all. But... No one has /ever/ called him beautiful. His tail wags behind him and he smells faintly of shock. He lowers his eyes in a nod to Un'eth. "Peassce on your nest." But he's really watching Cryosathia as she stumbles over her words and he shakes his head at her.
"Thisss one... Hasss never heard sssuch kind wordsss." It's true. He's an older sith and though he takes excellent care of his scales, his ability to withdraw has always served to keep others at a distance. Until recently. He makes a half-aborted gesture to reach out to her with that crystal claw, but years have taught im harshly and it doesn't make it. He swallows and looks downward. "Pleassse, do not be ssssorry."
Un'eth dips her snout to the syldanyari chef. "And yours. Our shall be peaceful once I return my cihuaa to it. He can return for more instruction and sharing when he is more properly rested." With that, she turns to aid Durrankar out of the establishment. So that he does not risk straining healing muscles nor open any mending wounds, of course.
Elleandra nods deeply to Un'eth, "Certainly. And I hope he remembers the more important part of the lesson. When he is properly rested I will be delighted to teach." With the removal of the patient, Elleandra can finish cleaning and make good on her promise. She is up the stairs in a flash, with barely a pause to say good night on the way. Everyone is busy with other things, anyhow! They won't notice.
Dorne offers the faint bit of dimple, "You crashed, ... tis nothing, glad I could help". "Not a sir, " His deep eyes fill with mirth, "Dorne, my name is dorne." Gentely he helps her sit a little better on floor for a moment.
Faranmidahn looks a little embarassed, yet, if the pronounced rosiness of her cheeks is any indication, "Hello, Dorne, you can call me Faran it's..." Akward, "nice to meet you!" Ahem. She gathers herself to her feet with as much dignity as is left to her and offers a tiny hand his way.
Dorne shakes her smaller hand before putting his gloves on. He stands slowly. "I am heading back to the Temple, wanta join me ?"
"They're true." Cryosanthia says quietly, watching his hand. Reach out, reach! He doesn't, and yet the white-scale still takes it, and intertwines her fingers. He can't feel her touch, but she's got gloves on, so it's fair. She moves his hand down beneath the table. Out of sight where she won't have to answer questions about holding it, and scoots a little closer, so she can point to the map with her free hand. She taps a cluster of dots.
"So, should we plan to go into the Cisterns? What happened with Faran's experiment." She looks around, "Where did Faran go?"
GAME: Faranmidahn casts Detect Poison. Caster Level: 2 DC: 14
Faranmidahn gives him a relatively firm shake and a smile, 'I should get back to the Chapterhouse soon, but first... I think I was going to test the water. If you could wait for a few minutes, I'll gladly escort you there!' Maybe she can get the chicken to go... But after answering Cryo's query with a, 'Hi!', it's back up onto the chair she goes, takes a breath before she begins to murmur something under her breath while making an odd rolling gesture with her right hand when her eyes take a soft green glow. "For venom sought, beyond the pale, by will and art, I draw the veil!" <halfling>
It's inexplicable to Zeke, but he doesn't question Cryosanthia. Doesn't try to take back his hand. He just sits /very/ still, with only his tail moving occassionally. Flicking and then finally settling into a gentle wag. "We ssshould, yessss. And tessst the water for magic to sssee if thisss onesss worry iss founded. If thisss one isss right, then the magic will be ssstronger near the scenterss." He looks toward Faranmidhan and blinks at her. Her words make no sense to him. "Can you tell if there isss magic in the water?"
GAME: Faranmidahn attempts to cast Detect Magic but fails due to ASF. GAME: Faranmidahn casts Detect Magic. Caster Level: 2 DC: 14
Cryosanthia's tail wags gently as well. Two bumps against Zeke's and it matches his timing, swaying in harmony. She nods, "This one can't detect magic."
She looks hopefuly at Faranmidahn, who is trying more spells. "What do you see?"
Dorne sliently waits watching. (for now)
Faranmidahn hmm's, 'Well, the good news is, there's no poison.' she says with a smile after a blink and her eyes return to normal as she releases the spell. With Zeke's question, she looks to him and smiles, 'Let's see, now...' and she starts to make a similar movement, though it involves a bit more of the upper arm and shoulder. "Magic forces sweeping earth to sky-!" she breaks off with a yelp as a buckle pinches her at a bad time. A shake of the head and she starts through the incantation once more, "Magic forces sweeping earth to sky, reveal your flow to my focused eye!" and her eyes are lit in a brilliant pink. And she straightens, mouth somewhat agape as her hand rises to cover it, 'Something... something is definately infusing the water. I'll need more time to try and determine it's nature, please!' she says with some obvious worry. <halfling>
Zeke straightens somewhat at the proclomation that there's something infusing the water. "Sssomething?" Though, there's more to be learned certainly. But... his thoughts are slightly derailed.
Derailed because... something is happening to the water. The water is... boiling? Moving. Wiggling. It shifts and moves as though it's /alive/. Part of it lifts out of the bucket and slides around the rim to where Faranmidahn is touching it...
Dorne steps up quietly, "maybe I can cleanse a small amount." He looks toward Cryosanthia, "If you don't mind?" he asks, He eyes shift wider as the water Wiggles? Reflexsively he dumps something white into said water.
"Faran! The water is reacting!" Cryosanthia shouts. Her reaction is instinctive, and again, perhaps misguided. Her free hand immediately twists through an Arcane Gesture and she points, a pale blue ray shooting from her hand towards the glass. A Ray of Frost. It should be enough to freeze the small amount, or would be, if the water was normal.
GAME: Cryosanthia casts Ray of Frost. Caster Level: 1 DC: 13 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+7: (2)+7: 9
The Ray of Frost hits, despite Cryo's poor aim. It's hard to miss a glass on the other side of the table. Instead of freezing, the water gets... bigger. Spilling over the sides and surging towards Faranmidahn.
"That's not how water should behave! Faran, look out!"
Dorne is ready to grab the knight and take her out of the way!
Faranmidahn is holding the spell focus, intent. Her hand closing around the hilt of her Traveler's blade as she hears Cryosanthia's warning, and she yanks the weapon out into a warding posture as she sees two external sources of magic move to interdict and ultimately expand the anomaly, "It's a single aura!" The tension in her voice is rising to true alarm, nearing dread as the implications start to mount in her mind.
Zeke reacts immediately too, standing up and moving so that he can get a better line on the water. "Do not usssse magic on it! This one thinks you have awoken one of thossse plague-bearing creaturesss lurking in the water!" He points his staff at the water and it seems as though his words might be correct when Cryosanthia's spell enlarges the water to the point that it spills over.
The water rapidly wiggles toward Faran, trying to clammor into a position where it can grab her and latch on. The salt... actually seems to make it wilt slightly, but its not enough to stop it from its efforts of climbing aboard Faran!
Unfortunately for her, the water manages to lach onto her hand, and quickly wiggles its way up!
Dorne lifts the knight and turns her swiftly ,.. His brown eyes do widen, He grabs her hand and arm.
GAME: Faranmidahn rolls knowledge/arcana: (13)+6: 19
Cryosanthia is on her feet as well, although she's at a loss. She pulls her apron off, thows it towards Faranmidahn and Dorne, "Use towel. The fire! Right there, there fire!"
GAME: Dorne casts Purify Food And Drink. Caster Level: 3 DC: 13 GAME: Faranmidahn rolls knowledge/arcana: (9)+6: 15
Dorne his gloved fingers make this quick plucking motion, then her dives his gloves into said water. Which seems to have been the wrong move as the water seems to just keep getting larger. Oh wait an aporn. He looks to the knight to move away!
Faranmidahn's knife falls from her hand as she is grabbed by the human, especially since the blob is already on her. Her knuckles, what can be seen through the lace, go bone white and she literally does the stiff-upper lip thing, holding her moon-eyed gaze, full of anxious, resolute dread and continues to try and analyze the abomination. For the people, she clenches down and chants the code like a mantra in her mind: Valor Compassion, Mercy.....
Zeke grabs his quarterstaff from where it rests against the table. Usually its more of a walking staff for the sith-makar but now... He hesitates to use it lest he hit Faran. "A bludgeoning weapon isss bessst. Or... water." Water. Why water when it clearly comes from the water? He doesn't understand but he moves in anyways. "If you hold very ssstill, thiss one may be able to hit it with-out hitting you." He readies his attack.
The ooze moves in ever closer, wiggling up Faran's arm and closer... closer. Trying to reach her face. Its small enough that it doesn't make a very big target, but big enough that it's not so easily disloged either. A few more seconds and it'll reach its destination...
Cryosanthia, regular melee against touch AC? -4 for improvised?" GAME: Cryosanthia rolls weapon0-4: (19)+7+-4: 22 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d4: (4): 4 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d4: (2): 2
"Ah!" Cryosanthia sees the water-ooze growing, in danger of enveloping the lucht. Spells are no good. They aren't going to the fire. Bring the fire to them, then. She's over and reaching into the fireplace, grabbing one of the logs that is completely engulfed, one which is not so far gone it will break apart.
Immediately, she feels the searing heat, make a quick snort of pain, and swings the burning log straight into the creeping water. Her aim, at least, is good. There's a sizzle of steam as the fire gets wet.
GAME: Faranmidahn rolls knowledge/arcana: (12)+6: 18
The ooze tries to climb up Faran's body, its form engulfing much of her, but it is pinned in place by the searing heat of the log and can not escape to get to where it wants to go.
GAME: Zeke rolls 1d20+8: (5)+8: 13 GAME: Zeke rolls weapon1: (18)+12: 30 GAME: Zeke rolls 1d6+4: (6)+4: 10 GAME: Faranmidahn rolls 1d20+6: (8)+6: 14
Zeke looks into Faran's eyes, his weapon readied. "May thisss one... thisss may hurt." He offers, seeing the nod to his question and then striking with the accuracy of a snake. The weapon comes hurtling down in his hands and strikes the ooze, but the thing clings to Faran and she feels the sting of the attack herself through the ooze's body.
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls weapon0-4: (15)+7+-4: 18 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d4: (4): 4 Cryosanthia, damage to me GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d4: (2): 2
Cryosanthia snarls a low growl, gritting and baring her teeth as her hands burn. She holds onto the log, and holds it against the ooze on Faranmidahn, positionning it as close to the lucht's face as she dares. Hoping it burns out before the pain gets to be too much. Her breathing increases, in rate and power, nostrils flaring. She keeps the log held there, hissing and sparking as the water surrounds it.
GAME: Faranmidahn rolls knowledge/arcana+5: (6)+6+5: 17 Faranmidahn, will blow for the reroll GAME: Faranmidahn rolls knowledge/arcana+5: (10)+6+5: 21
By the Hunter's wit and the Moon's gaze, this feels wierd! The sorceress-knight, fully cognizent of the danger that she's in, continues yet to hold her spell, probing the blob for it's secrets as it continues expanding to envelope her. She dare not open her mouth to speak, but can only give a little upchin type nod, body rigid as she wishes with all her heart to find the key to saving the victims through this. The blow to the blob prompts a surprised, chirplike whimper through her nose as she does everything in her will to keep her mouth shut. She is blinking, now, trying to keep her eyes moist for the heat. The firelight reflecting a pronounced sheen of sweat from the heat, the mental strain, the physical tension or even the edging in of true, honest fear of being devoured. All at once, she blinks hard and the glow is gone as she dismisses the spell.
GAME: Dorne rolls cmb-4: (10)+4+-4: 10 Dorne says, "1st on me" GAME: Dorne rolls 1d4: (2): 2 Dorne says, "now the ooze" GAME: Dorne rolls 1d4: (4): 4
Dorne runs to the fireplace as fast as he is able. It seems to dislike fire! A new Fire Log. The orange heat of fire once agian coming to aid. He hold it into the water ooze!
GAME: Zeke rolls 1d20+8: (3)+8: 11
In spite of the ooze's best efforts it can't seem to climb those last few inches to her face. It might be the two logs sunken into its body being quickly eaten away... wait are they being eaten away? The one that Cryosanthia is holding is almost gone! As if the water has turned acidic enough to burn it.
Seeing that his attack causes Faranmidahn pain Zeke rushes away from the scene of the fight. "Thisss one will return!" He isn't running away though. He's running toward. Toward a bucket of soapy water!
Cryosanthia, free action turn on my claws, put them in the ooze, and Use Magic Device blind attempt to control / activate it, which is DC25, and see what happens. GAME: Cryosanthia rolls Use Magic Device: (7)+7: 14 GAME: Zeke rolls 1d4: (4): 4 GAME: Zeke damaged you for 4 points. 21 HP remaining.
Cryo's log is swiftly vanishing, being eaten by acid? She has no idea what this thing is, and Faran's eyes have stopped glowing. Is this good, is it bad? A horrible, terrible inspiration strikes her. Possibly, this thing can be controlled. She lets go of her log, her hands transform into draconic claws, the tattoos flaring along her arms, and she plunges them into the ooze. Tapping into whatever innate sorceress senses she has in her blood, she attempts to control it, activate it, like some magic device.
SSSSSSSSSS
The burning sensations switch from fire to acid, and she cries out in pain.
GAME: Zeke rolls 1d20+8: (8)+8: 16 GAME: Faranmidahn casts Detect Magic. Caster Level: 2 DC: 14
There's another muffled cry through the Lucht's nose and her skin starts to gain a reddish tinge under the border of the slime's claim over her body. But as the creature tries to pull away, Faran exhales in a gush, gasp, 'Universal!'. As the Lucht sees Cryo at risk of being attacked, too, she shakes her head and her fingers go through her prior routine, and, even as she chants, "Magic forces sweeping earth to sky, reveal your flow to my focused eye!" she is rolling and fighting for purchase with her limbs to get near the fireplace and the pink glow takes her eyes once more. <halfling>
The ooze did have a bad rection to 'blessed salt'. So Dorne pushes his Holy Symbol inside the ooze, and you thought salt was icky, try this!
And... it seems not to bother the ooze... but the holy symbol is probably not enjoying being in acid. The ooze is going to go for a grapple! Trying to suck Faran down into its body rather than climbing up her.
GAME: Zeke rolls 1d20+16: (11)+16: 27 GAME: Zeke rolls 1d4: (4): 4 GAME: Faranmidahn rolls 1d20+6: (5)+6: 11 GAME: Faranmidahn rolls fortitude: (17)+6: 23
The ooze gives a jiggle and then suddenly Faran slips and slides... into the ooze. It's like the ground gives out from underneath the little Lucht. The sick noise that the thing makes as it swallows her whole gives you chills, and you realize that the thing is turning black. It jiggles and rolls happily now that it has its prize.
GAME: Zeke rolls 1d20+7: (19)+7: 26
Zeke comes running back out of the kitchen with a bucket held in his right claw. The sith takes one look at the situation and throws the bucket of soapy water on top of the ooze. The effect is immediate and the ooze starts to degrade before your eyes. Only a small portion of it remains now... clinging to her legs. It wobbles weakly as if its lost coherance, and Zeke shudders from head to tail. "More water!"
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+7: (16)+7: 23
"Universal? Universal Solvent? This one doesn't understand. Faran!" Cryo is in a panic. She drinks this water, she's bathed in it. It's never done this before! The sith-makar yelps as the lucht is sucked inside and the colour changes. The happy jiggle doesn't encourage her.
The soapy water works! That's clear. Cryo can't think of another quick source, but there is beer everywhere. Some leftovers on the table and a lot more behind the bar. She'll throw beer. The sith leaps for the closest mugs, grabbing them from patrons if necessary, and flings it at the ooze.
There's some effect, there's less of it, half gone once more leaving only a little bit left clinging to one fuzzy foot.
It wobbles mournfully. WHAT A WORLD WHAT A WORLD
GAME: Faranmidahn rolls weapon0: (18)+5: 23
Faranmidahn gets out a cutoff squeak as she is pulled into the blob, but manages not to get it in her mouth, somehow. She is rolled topsy turvey within the blob. Fear stabs through her as she, for a moment, things the darkening around her is her vision, but she holds the detection spell as long as she can... and then... Suddenly she's exposed again and she dares a breath, and then... SPLOOSH! She's.... doused in beer? She looks around franticly and, putting together that her humiliating new bath is even more caustic to it than it to her, she spies a puddle and tries to rather hatefully grind her befouled foot into it!
It disolves into the water like it was never there...
Dorne grabs the apron just incase there is little bit of fire to snuff out.
"Faranmidahn! Are you okay? Is it off you? Is it off me?" The white-scale sith-makar is bouncing, her voice fast and anxious. She sounds excited, it's actually pain. Fire and acid are not wonderful things to be soaking in. She keeps shaking her arms, trying to shake off the sting. This is not a successful effort. Her breathing is quick and shallow, and she keeps hopping.
Zeke warily looks around to see if there is any more of the ooze before moving in closer. A pulse of goodwill emits from him, healing the injuries casused by the ooze. "It sssseemsss to be gone. If it remained it would have reacted to thisss onesss healing." He sounds certain of this, and tired. He shakes his head. "Thisss... isss not good."
Faranmidahn pants heavily as she is finally free of the slime, her skin blotched with acid burns. She shudders in relief as the sith's divine energies wash over her and she gives a sigh, "Cryo? Are you-is everyone alright?" The little knight draws up her knees to her chest and curls her arms around them and resting her chin, shivering, "It...it's universal magic... that's..." sniff, "That's all I could get before I couldn't hold the spell anymore.... I'm sorry....!"
Dorne smiles warmly toward the Knight, "Hey wait , sorry for what no one is blamming you. You do realize I am not allowing you to walk alone , just yet?" A faintly charmming grin.
"Ah, ah," Cryosanthia pants, her breathing and heart-rate returning to normal. She immediately hugs Zeke, holding him for one long exhale. "Thank you!"
She turns, eyes wide to look at the little lucht knight. "That was crazy girl! I am good now. Universal Magic? Like, raw, from where all magic comes from? Is there a Magic Plane? It was great, what you did. I think we know a lot more now. This one doesn't understand, but it is something to tell smarter people."
Zeke... Zeke is /hugged/. He freezes like a statue, terror running down his spine far more potent than he'd felt seeing the ooze trying to eat someone. He can't move. Can't /breathe/. Then she's released him and... he's still alive. A little meep escapes him and he stinks of embarrassment. Shame. The sith is at a total loss for what to do. He just stands there stairing at Cryosanthia as she talks and it takes several long moments to realize what she's saying. "Yessss. We ssshould tell othersss." His green eyes slide toward Faranmidahn. "You have done well thisss one thinksss."
He touches his chest briefly, trying to ignore the sudden pain he feels there, but it makes him swallow heavily. Eyes flicking toward Cryosanthia. There are words there. In that look. Questions unanswered and years of things that make it so that he... just doesn't understand. What does one say when kindness has been lacking for more than two centuries? "Thisss one... Sshould go.... Make a new map." The one on the table has been ruined by a spill of alcohol after all.
Faranmidahn looks up to Dorne at his kind words, smiling weakly, her eyes a little misty in the wake of what she's just experienced. Her chin dips at Cryo's words and gives what starts of as a low, desperate laugh that she buries her face into her knees to muffle it's transition to sobs as what she's been fighting to keep control of... to be brave in the face of danger, finally slips her control.
Dorne quietly sits beside her not to close. Politely waiting.
Cryo is stunned, her senses processing many things. The unpleasant cooked and acrid scent coming off her forearms. She's afraid to look under her gloves, but everything is healed, they will be ok? Then there's a stink, of shame? Off Zeke, from being hugged by her? No... she doesn't trust her interpretation of that. Faranmidahn sobbing is much easier to deal with!
The palescale sith immediately moves for the bar. She threads like a white streak between the tables, leaning over the bar and scrabbling at the shelves. Something to drink, not water, that luchts like. Something sweet, thick, a mead will do. She grabs a bottle and is back, kneeling in front of Faranmidahn. "You did great. You're safe. You're ok. Drink this it has honey in."
"This one wants to see you again, Zeke." Cryosanthia says, firmly and loudly, but without looking his way. "Peace on your nest when you sleep tonight, we should get together soon again."
Admittedly, Zeke has no idea what to do about a crying person, but he knows that he can not leave now. Not with one of his companions... wounded this way. He doesn't have Svarsahan's calming aura, can not create warmth with his mere presence. But he can be here. The blue-scaled sith crouches down before Faranmidahn and makes a low thrumming noise in the back of his throat. It's a special noise, made for soothing younglings. It is a sound he has heard made for others in any case. He thumps his tail, not caring about the soft splash of water and ale. It's a low, quiet thump, but a reminder. They are here. Faranmidahn is not alone.
"Thisss one will ssstay... for now. For Faranmidahn." Zeke's voice is deep and clear and full of thrumming.
Faranmidahn is reluctant to lift her head gain, but the presences she feels close at hand, Cryo's words and the blue sith's song eventually pulls her from the shell that threatened to engulf her as the blob had not quite managed. Her face is a mask of purging terror and shame, and she accepts the mead with palsied hands with a feeble, "Thank you." Glug... glug...glug....! She shuts her eyes and gets another shudder before, 'Th-thank you... thank..' she looks between them all, 'Thank you, all! I.... I d-don't know....!' Sniff! 'Thank you...!' <halfling>
Dorne smiles quietly. He asks quietly, "You have a map for the ale on the floor, I wil gladly help clean this up."
Cryo blinks at Zeke's thrumming, then stares at him. She recognizes the thrumming, remembers hearing it, can do it but hadn't thought to. It's one of the sith things she puts in a box on the shelf when she comes to the city, to try and fit in. It's relaxing and easy, she closes her eyes and concentrates on her throat, on Zeke's song so she can harmonize her own. Her thrum starts up, with a slightly higher pitch and a wider vibration.
The half-sil server who has been watching things in horror gives Dorne a mop. She points at the bucket Zeke grabbed, "It can ah... all go back in there."
Dorne cleans quite alot at the Temple or at least he used to. This is the way we mop the ale, mop the ale.
Zeke nods low to Faranmidahn. "You are welcome." With his voice all wide and deep as it is, the words seem to take on other meanings. He shuffles slightly as Dorne begins to clean up their mess and offers a warm expression that is hard to tell is warm unless you're a sith-makar. "You are a fine warrior-cassste. You protected ussss with your own body even though it wasss ssomething you feared. Thisss one hasss rarely seen sssuch bravery." He thumps his tail quietly.
Faranmidahn takes another few pulls off that mead and a few more minutes to settle back into quasi-normal. She sighs and wipes her eyes with the back of a lacecovered hand, then gives a smile. Genuine, if forced, a little lingering baggage tucked away in her eyes. She rocks forward and rises to her full, if only reasonable, height and cradles the mead to her chest like it was her new woobie, a sniff, then, "I... might have died without you all helping me... But I couldn't... I couldn't let anyone else get taken by that... thing..." Sniff, "You...think I was.. brave...?"
Dorne stops and faces the Knight he nods quietly as if there is more to comment but it can wait. She seems to know the others.
Cryosanthia thumps her tail as well, crouched and staring intently at Faranmidahn, her neck stretched out to bring her head close. She nods, "Yes. Very brave. To fight so hard for knowledge. To hold the monster's attention on you. A fine Warrior-Caste, yes."
"I don't think anyone has done what you just did. Everyone flees it. No one has stared into it before, none I've spoken to." The palescale adds.
Zeke nods as well, with clear certainty. "Thisss one would not have ssaid it if it were not true. And you have added to what we know of thesssse thingsss asss well. No sssmall feat. Thisss one wassss proud to aid you." He looks at Cryosanthia and nods again. "Everything that Cryosssanthia ssssaysss isss sso."
Faranmidahn's eyes glisten wetly, but she smiles more easily. It may take her a little time before the little knight can do so unhaunted, but she does so and she sets the mead down at her feet and looks between the trio, holding her arms wide, inviting, "You.... are truly wonderful friends...!" Maybe Father was right to believe in her.
Dorne chuckles briefly with good cheer,"Thank you, ... I will need my honor guard back to the Temple. unless your going to sleep here tonight."
Cryo's tail coils back and forth behind her, signalling in a sith-makar manner for Zeke to move in to attack. The palescale surges forward, embracing the little lucht, leaving room for blue-scale to join her and waving at Dorne to hug her back. She bumps her cheek against the side of the lucht's head. "You are strong. You are safe. So, so brave!"
Dorne laughs and walks over patting the back of her armor?
In fact, Zeke does move in, moving because instinct tells him to follow the female into battle before he can think that he shouldn't. But his brain catches up with him and he manages to only lay crystal claw on the little Lucht's shoulder. Clasping it firmly, but in a way that isn't going to terrify him and add to his earlier shame. After a few moments that seem like longer (to him) than they actually are he withdraws with more than a touch of embarrassment, his tail thrashing behind him from the jolt of adrenaline that his body gave him thanks to Cryosanthia's movements.
Faranmidahn's smile brightens to the point that, with her eyes closed it seems pure and unburdened, tension melting from the Lucht's frame. A hand lightly touches the crystaline limb, her other squeezes the palescale, and she finally, reluctantly lets go, "Thank you.... but.. the... it's been a long night and I thikn.. I think we all deserve some rest.... Peace on your nest, dear friends! I'm lad you're all safe.." and, as she withdraws, she turns to Dorne, "Shall we, then?"
Cryosanthia stands once the Lucht does, taking a few steps back so she isn't towering over her. She dips her head in a small bow, "Peace on your Nest, Faran. Thank you, for your efforts, and your offer to escort. This one will call for that tomorrow. I am very grateful."
She looks over at Zeke, flattered that he followed her lead, impressed and simply happy to see him again. "I can find a room for you to stay over here. Tomorrow we can work on a map, make plans."
=Dramatis Personae
Zeke
This sith-makar has scales of a deep blue color, a touch dark particularly toward the extremities but still very clearly blue. Six large sweeping horns adorn Zeke’s head, the forward two are more vertical but those after the first set follow the shape of Zeke’s head with a little sway. There are small scars around the base of each horn, as well as around each claw. Their source seems to be self-inflicted and nearly decorative rather than caused by combat however.
Zeke wears a chain shirt mostly hidden under layers of robes in shades of black and gray, and is usually hooded in a cloak of the same color. The robes are sheared short just around the hips and cover a pair of black kapri-style pants slit up the side of the leg and tied with a thick midnight-blue string. Zeke also wears an odd arm-slip up the arm that is not made of crystal.
Had that not been mentioned before? Both the left arm and leg of this sith-makar are made of a beautiful crystal that gleams brightly. The arm is bare from the shoulder down for the convenience of getting it in and out of clothing, but is usually covered by the fall of Zeke’s cloak.
Faranmidahn
A tallish Lucht with a wide, heart shaped face of moon-eyed countenance, she bears the marks of an albino, with skin a pinkish cream, and pate of full, knee length hair of ivory and bone. Her eyes are a peculiar shade of rose beneath somewhat thick ivory brows, with long silvery lashes, to which she's added two matching rows of round tourmaline settings starting at her brow and tapering down her cheeks to her jawline. Like her people, she prefers to feel the ground beneath her bare feet, though she's manifested the Clydesdale like shag of ivory more uncommon than unheard of among her people. Her voice is high and light enough to be almost troublingly cute when she intends to be anything but, though her posture is straight and proud.
She's taken her spider affectation to a functional extreme, probably more due to a certain amount of reality checks than a true forbearance of eccentricity. Black spiderweb lace sheaths her limbs, emerging from kilted leather armor; over her heart, an embossed sigil of violet, lavender and green proclaims her to be of the Order of the Purple Rose, in those circumstances where the matching broach pinning a black web-embroidered cloak to her shoulders is absent. A matching helm with a visor of black strips, when it is worn, adds shadow enough to aid the suggestion of spiders' eyes her jewerly is meant to project. At the right side of her waist, a comparitively long sword for her stature, blackened steel with a red hourglass on the pear-shaped pommel, rests in a lacquered sheath opposite an array of pouches that no doubt contain an array of adventurer's tools, while a matching Lucht Traveler's blade is strapped to her left thigh.
Dorne
Though still enjoying the prime of his youth, the wrinkles around his profound hazel eyes belie warmth and wisdom far beyond his years. Most would say a friendly man. He almost always favors light clothing, denoting his faith; donning a powder blue tabard with golden trim, a pronounced contrast to his well-kept black hair and his olive complexion.
Given his occupation's need to appear as presentable as possible, maintains good care of his clothing, complementing his powder blue tabard with pure white shirt and pants. The journyman's boots he wears are ideal for frequent treks across the urban sprawl of the city. Though they are often muddy by nighttime. He always ensures he finds time to tend to them before the day is done. The gloves he wears are gifts from when he first went to visit the temple. Remarkably elegant and comfortable. A small gesture, now treasured.
Cryosanthia
Cryosanthia is a tall, lithe lizardgirl with flamboyant mannerisms and a flashy style. Her scales are a bright, snow white, complimented by her frills and keratin-scale 'hair' which are the pale blue found in glacial ice. This gleaming tapestry is marred by dark tattoos gouged in her hide, green-black in colouration, which at times have a dark glow. Her snout is long and tapers elegantly. Her legs and tail are likewise graceful, despite being a significant portion of her size and mass. She seems light on her talons and energetic, head glancing quick from side to side. Her eyes are bright and like her frills, the palest of blues with a dramatic slit pupil.
Cryosanthia's clothes are a simple kit of kilted leather armour in white. It is close fitting enough to seem a part of her, but it lacks the lustre of her scales having instead a dull finish. She has sandals that leave her talons free, as well as a hat that is hanging to the back as often as it is on her head. A long blue feather is tucked into the woven band. Finally, she wears a cloak, likewise fashioned from white leather but with a satin interior that matches her eyes. It gleams when the light catches it right. Belted to her hip she has a rapier, a couple of pouches, and a tiny bag on a thong around her long neck.