Emissary of the Empress
Log Info
- Title: Emissary of the Empress
- Emitter: Whirlpool
- Characters: Cryosanthia, Aya, Faranmidahn, Geir
- Place: W04: The Am'Shere Gate
- Time: Monday, September 21, 2020, 9:27 PM
- Summary: Cryosanthia has received word that the Silver Empress is sending an Emissary to discuss what she knows about the Divine Shards of Animus, and the efforts to bring back the old god. She waits at the Gate to Am'Shere, with Faranmidahn, Aya, and Geir, whom she has asked along to assist. The emissary is a very old sith'makar. Introductions, formalities and greetings are exchanged, and then the group move to the Travelers Inn to discuss what she knows. Which isn't a lot. Cryo has no idea what the shards look like, doubts the Resurrectionists have one, what the shards might be capable of and whether their plan would work. She emphasizes, there is a possibility and forces are organizing. Aya confirms that opposing groups are developing, and even if the shards do not exist, there is enough belief in them that actions are being taken. Cryo suggests that any they find be brought to Am'shere, and the Emissary says that it's too dangerous, and this all may be a test of the gods. Geir offers some insights, and keeps Lily occupied, as the little kobold is more fascinated by orange slices than she is talk of dead gods. Faran exercises her bodyguard duties, finding no threats. Cryo makes an emphatic appeal, that even with all these unknowns, if something happens it is likely to be quick and the Empress should be able to receive a swift alert. This convinces the crotchety old sith'makar to stay, so a stronger line of communication is established.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Appearing, in Order =-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Cryosanthia 6'9" 291 Lb Sith-Makar Female A dashingly tall, elegant white-scaled lizard woman. Aya 4'7" 105 Lb Shadow Elf Female Mul'niessa. Braided hair. Simple clothing. Faranmidahn 3'3" 35 Lb Halfling Female Albino Lucht woman in black leather armor with a BIG spider Geir 5'8" 200 Lb Sith-Makar Male A short, copper-scaled Sith-makar. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= As the GM =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Whirlpool Otyugh I am stinky! -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
It's a couple weeks after Cryosanthia sends her message across the portal that she received a response. An emissary, not from the Empress, but from one of the elders of tribes in proximity to her. Seems they got it, and one of them is said to be coming.
Thus, Cryo and those with her are waiting near the heavily guarded portal.
Cryosanthia has turned out in all her gear, mithril mail and buckler, boots and gloves, tight leathers on her limbs and a corset, as well as a short cape and short skirt, with a faint blue satin interior to match the glacial blue highlights and otherwise stark white of her clothes and silvery armour. The whitescale haversack is high between her shoulders.
In contrast to all this, she also has a carnation-scaled youngling with her, that is as energetic as she is small. Lily is all over the place, though never straying far. In part because Cryo keeps bringing her back with toys and various distractions.
It's been a bit of a trip to the gate, and such things can be rough on short attention spans, but she wasn't about to leave her behind.
"Lily... Lily! No, not near the guards, come back here."
Aya may or may not have something to report to Cryosanthia concerning unrelated matters. In truth, there is something to report, even if that something may be a lack of more detailed information to report. As well, recent events have made it one of those rare times that the city is temporarily less comfortable than the ... not the city. With these two situations coinciding, she has ventured to the white Sith, only to find Cryosanthia has ventured somewhat of her own. To meet one venturing to meet her? There is a great deal of venturing.
The Aya-squishing Lily is just an unexpected fringe benefit.
"Have you tried Sovereign Glue?" Aya offers a suggestion to the white one as she appears before the daring Lily as an unexpected hopeful roadblock.
Faranmidahn, returned from her sojourns of atonement, stands ready by her adoptive sister's side. As they wait, she is astride her giant black Huntsman spider, glossy chitin layered under marvelous black leather barding, in her own resplendant leather and silks, hair braided, fetlocks trimmed and brushed, the penant of the Purple Rose adorning her lance. Her little white Familiar rests on the Knight's shoulder, pivoting about to keep her facing locked on the little pink draconid as her Mistress asks, "Think it'll be much longer?" As Aya helps herding the young Kobold.
The copper-scale has stood still for some time now. Perhaps easily confused with a guard, Geir bears all the usual hallmarks: heavy metal armor, a long spear, sword belted at his side. He looks almost unblinkingly ahead, as if not seeing anything and everything at the same time.
The wee Kobold wanders near, and Geir bends at the waist, scooping up the little scaled being as she is momentarily blocked by Aya.
"One wonders who you are, little one.", he says with a chuckle. He settles Li'l Fang upon one shoulder and moves then, towards Cryosanthia. "One has answered your call.", he says, with humour in his voice. "Also, one has found a youngling.
Lily squealls at Aya, stopping before she runs into the Mul'niessa, and then she's airbourne, lifted by Geir. Laughing further she wriggles, all tail and legs and peeps, "Little Fang!" In Draconic, followed by "I'm Ssassa's!"
"Thank you, Shaman Geir." Cryo says, reaching out to take Lily as she dips her head, "This one is obliged, for finding my foundling, and waiting to see what arrives from the call."
"No idea Faran," Cryo adds, looking towards the gate.
Aya glances briefly to the gate, as well, then back to Cryosanthia. "You're expecting company? A crew of ...youngling-tenders, perhaps?" A brow arches in Lily's direction. A crew would be recommended, if not required, from what little she's witnessed.
The portal flares and, carefully escorted by two other Sith, is an elderly lizard indeed. He is seen to by the portal guards and taken into the nearby structures that make up the fortification around it for a time to ensure nothing came with him and the n is guided towards the gate and out it. This must be the one. He and his two guards.
The Lucht smiles in some amusement as Lily's energy is given to some attendance by Aya and the Copper Sith, bobbing her head. She glances at little Zephyr, the fluffy coconut spider, and "Want to play with Lily for a-?"
She breaks off some as the portal flares and she straightens in the saddle, "Here they come!" in case Lily's drawn everyone's eye from the portal itself at that moment, and she holds her lance at proper angle for a formal greeting.
"This one had assistance.", the copper-scale says to Cryo, gesturing to Aya with a hand. "One was merely the net in a wall coordinated capture." He glances to Lily, and snorts, wafts of smoke trailing from his nostrils. "Little Fang. A well suited name, youngling. This one is Geir.", he replies in Draconic.
Geir nods to Aya, and then Faranmidahn. "So too, you have gathered at Cryosanthia's request?"
Geir looks to the elderly Sith, and his entourage, as they approach. He straightens then, trying to look imposing despite his relatively short stature, at least among Sith.
"This one sent word to the Silver Empress, about the Resurrectionists. This one asked for her guidance. As Speaker, this one has represented her at some ceremonies." Cryosanthia says, boosting Lily to her shoulders, watching as the elderly sith'makar is taken through the decontamination process. "No word reached me in time, so I made my own questions."
Lily scrambles across Cryo's back to her other shoulder, remains perched. She grins at Geir, her draconic is fairly good, "Peassse on your Nessst."
The whitescale gestures towards the fortifications, "There, that must be the one. This one will vouche for you." She glances at Faran, "you too sister, but it should not be necessary."
Cryo stands tall, at attention, as best she can with a passenger.
Aya nods to Geir in acknowledgement. Of all the things she might suddenly find herself accused of, that was a pleasant surprise. Her attention promptly turns to the arrival of... an emissary, it seems, after Cryosanthia offers explanation. This may explain why she takes advantage of the tall scales about (1.25 as much in Cryosanthia's case, now) to seek unobtrusive cover. It is best that someone else perhaps approach he venerable and guarded Sith. they are less likely to collect spear-points, and Aya is mildly allergic to impalement.
The elderly Sith takes a moment to observe. When approached, he nods. "Peace. You are the one who sent word through this doorway of 'divine shards'?" <draconic>
"Peace on your Nest. This one did send word." The whitescale Sith replies formally, making a short curtsey when she finishes her approach. Lily remains hiding and riding behind her neck, hugging around it. "This one is Cryosanthia, Speaker-Caste." <draconic>
She gestures to the others with her, Faran first, her hand sweeping to encompass her and Torrent. "Sir Faranmidahn Waywalker, Knight of the Purple Rose, kin-sister and bodyguard." Towards the well armoured flower net, "Shaman Geir, spiritual advisor," finally the Mul'niessa, whom she explains without a pause, "Aya, research assistant and cultural advisor." <draconic>
"This one trusts them, values their insight, and would share the concerns of Silver Empress with them, to best address the development in Alexandria and speculate of the repercussions." Cryo makes another formal gesture to the elderly Sith'makar, clasping her hands in front, "This one hopes your travel was as ameniable as possible, and is at your disposal." <draconic>
Faranmidahn asides a quiet, "Yes. Well met, sir, madame." to the copper sith with a little smile, but she doesm't break her formal posture, before the entourage arrives close at hand. She tries not to let excitement or nerves touch her features, nor anything that could look like challenge dwell within her eyes. She hasn't anything against anyone here, but sometimes people take things according to their upbringing. Her sworn sister is the diplomat, and knows the best way to introduce her to her people.
Lily stares at Aya, makes a squeezing motion with her tiny pink paw. Squishing her remotely, "Aaa-aaa!"
The copper-scale Sith steps closer to Cryosanthia, his bearing now stiff, formal. When introduced by the icy-scale Sith, Geir balls his right hand, and thumps his chest, bowing at the waist. Then, a less formal thump of his sinuous tail. "This one serves the Deathdragon also, but is here to stand with Cryosanthia."
One of his eyes wanders, taking in the little scaly one hiding upon Cryo's shoulders. He winks, his features softening with humour.
Aya dips her head, and even torso, down towards the elder Sith. As she straightens, she offers the wee Little Fang thumb and forefinger. Not to gnaw upon (she'd prefer to keep them attached), but rather lifted to mimic Lily's crushing/squeezing gesure. Hopefully it will be deemed non-threatening due to her lack of claws.
"The old bones do not work as well as they once did, but I came. It seemed you have questions for which I do not necessarily I have answers, and that you have perhaps answers for questions I did not know to ask."
The Sith snorts in amusement.
"Where do we go?" <draconic>
Faranmidahn dips her head as she's introduced, raising her lance in a formal salute, but otherwise remains mum. Meanwhile, little Zephyr scurries across her back to her other shoulder, perhaps curious, while Torrent, the large black spider, stares in alien impassiveness. Lily hides from the squishy fingers! She moves to the other side of her foster-mother's neck, and peers around it. When she sees the hand still raised, she ducks again. Geir's wink bolsters her, she looks a third time.
Cryosanthia, is doing her best with the shifting weight on her shoulders. She manages to stand tall, formal and straight. Her tone is very respectful as she addresses the elderly Sith'makar. "The settlement at the Holy Site, Mictlan, is a journey. An easier one than you have undergone, but still strenuous. While you might desire to visit it, the traveller's inn is closer, the facilities convenient and comfortable. We may conduct our business there, arrange transport should you decide to stay." <draconic> Cryo gestures away from the gate, towards a building a little distance away that is more comfortable looking and less fortified in construction. She is ready to lead everyone there. "We're going to the Inn, to speak. I can translate properly once we're set up if you aren't following. I'm sorry Faran, Aya."
Aya lowers squishy fingers so as not to (further) frighten Lily and assure Cryosanthia, "Speaking your own words is not something to regret." She also turns to accompany the gathered entourage.
There is a pause.
A slow nod.
"The soft-skins locale is easier, I suspect, then we can talk. My trade is too poor, so you will need to translate." <draconic>
And with that, he follows to the inn, it woiuld appear, intent on getting comfortable there.
It's a particular quiet day there, it woiuld appearq, and you're able to get comfortable and seated soon enough.
Geir nods to the elder, and looks to Cryo. "Perhaps the trade tongue is better, if the elder can manage it? It might make it harder for those attempting to eavesdrop. Since one believes our .. opponents might not necessarily know it." He hrms as the elder addresses that particular point. "This one can also translate, if you need, Cryosanthia."
He looks to Lily, and gestures with a hand, patting his shoulder. "This one could also watch over the youngling."
Faranmidahn smiles a little and dips her head, "It's alright, Cryo." she says gently, glancing to the Sith abounding, then to Aya and back to her sister, "I know I've dropped into Lucht Siuil enough myself." She sets her lance into the special loops in her saddle, then, "Shall we, then?" The trip out to proper accomodation happens with her trying to keep watch, Zephyr looking where she isn't, just in case.
Cryosanthia leads to the Inn. She has some experience with Inns, inkeeping and servers, and is able to speak the lingo and get a nice setup. A private conference room, water, tea service, snack foods which could be enjoyed by all but are heavily slanted towards a reptilian palette. Accomodations and a substantial meal may come later, but she's free with her funds and has the proprietor's attention. Their surroundings will be comfortable.
Lily pretends to ignore Aya and focuses on Faran for a bit, accepting the offer to play, -carefully- with Zephyr. That and a few toys should keep her occupied a little. She's present, Cryo would never let her be far away, but she hopefully won't be too disruptive. Especially with extra eyes on her.
Tall chairs, for Faranmidahn and Aya are made available, and stools that are easier for sith sitting are gathered. Stools are also provided for the elderly sith's guards, but there's no expectation they will use them.
Cryosanthia sits opposite the emmissary, "This one, or Shaman Geir will say your words in Tradespeak. I will make my reply in it, so my companions may follow, then Speak in the words of the People." <draconic>
"I'm going to translate, say what I'm saying, and then say it properly." She looks over at Geir and nods, "I need all the help there is, with this, with Lily, thank you."
She squares herself, to the others she says, "A group, calling themselves the Resurrectionists declared on Alexandria streets that they have evidence that fragments of the dead god, Animus, have fallen to Ea. They first called for assistance to find them. They had quick responses to most questions of -why-, overall saying that since they exist, they need to be found before people will ill intent get them." She faces the emissary, then repeats it in draconic.
"Yes, I understood that from the message, though I have no idea what 'shards' of this 'Fallen God' they say is 'dead' are supposed to look like." The Sith is of course aware of the changes to the Pantheon in the wake of Taara's attempted ascencion, but given the differences in pantheon interpretation between cultures, it is entirely possible he could see Animus' fall in a different wayt.
"Tell me what you know of the so-called divine shards, and whether you believe such a thing is possible in its face."
Geir seems content to accept water and light fare, choosing an orange, and carefully peeling the skin away. He places himself near the door, settling comfortably in a chair. His spear is set to lean upon the wall beside him. "This one will translate for the elder, while Cryo can translate what the elder says. Fair."
He casts a glance to Aya and Faranmidahn. Gesturing with the orange, he pulls a small piece free for each of them. "If you've not tried these before, they grow plentifully in Am'shere, and are sweet and sour at the same time."
Once Torrent is properly stabled, which the particular requirements of same sorted out, Faran, like the elder Sith's guard, remains much at attention close to her Sister's hand. Zephyr, for her part, makes little rumbles and plays back with the pink Kobold within her limits.
The orange is met with a glance and she smile and she bows her head, "Most kind, thank you." and she accepts the piece graciously before giving it a sampling. It's an eye opening thing for the little Knight, but she smiles, "It's very tasty!" trying to keep her voice low to avoid being too disruptive.
"I'm familiar," Aya notes to Geir, though accepts the offering. After chewing the segment, she clarifies, "With the fruit, not Am'shere." It's not a locale she's ever ventured to.
"The Resurrectionists did not describe them in the pamphlet they circulated, which prompted my message. Nor at their public street anouncement." The whitescale exhales strongly, her arms rest on the table in front of her, one hand on the other. "They spoke of Divine-Shards, that the death of the god should not be imagined in mortal terms. They wanted people to pledge and join their society, before they would say more."
She opens her palms up, "As for what is possible, this one has seen many things, the web of magic throughout Alexandros was manipulated and twisted near out of The Dreaming Dragon's control by a Fae Monarch. Such things could exist, they may be inert gems of power. A bunch together might gain a consciousness, the way a golem has. Perhaps enough and Animus could be restored to some state. Just as easily this one thinks they could be used to empower or cause another to Ascend. They might simply melt away."
She flips her palms down, "They emphasized the need to research and acquire the shards, little understanding of them. This one knows a few who seem very keen to participate. They seem unconcerned that for a god to arise anew or arise again, one must fall. Unconcerned also, that any god raised would be beholden to those who arranged it."
The copper-scale's facial expression is one of humour, nodding to Faran, and then Aya. "They are quite delicious." He pulls free another piece, and wiggles it in Lily's direction, and then leans in slightly so that she might take it, should she choose to.
"This one sees that description as a reasonable expectation as to what the essences of a fallen god might look like. One would imagine such a thing would be noticeable with scrying and divination."
Geir looks to Cryosanthia. "Are you considering joining this group? What do you know of them so far? Are they dangerous?"
"Whatever they think they have, or can do," Aya opines, "there are other forces who think that these shards exist, that the possibility exists of some powerful thing. If they are willing to kill and destroy because of it, does it matter whether it is real or not?"
"And what is it you wish from the Empress in this matter, then?" asks the emissary, who never even bothered with something as trivial as a name. A smell is as good as an introduction for him.
He leans back tohughtfully, tail thumping.
"Were I younger, I would scoff at their story of 'shards of a dead god falling to the world'. But if they believe it, others are likely to. Perhaps they are right. Perhaps they are not. It is too soon to be sure."
The Sith shrugs his shoulders.
Faranmidahn considers things for a moment, as the discussion gets into the meat of affairs and she looks to Cryo, "Will it be bad if I scanned for magic?" her inquiry soft, in the 'let the diplomats talk' voice. A subtle cant of her head, "Can do poison, too, if you like?" She smacks her lips slightly, and idly wonders if they make orange juice. Later for that, though.
Lily absolutely wants oranges, and dangling them in front of her gets her jumping and snapping for it, though she behaves when the copper-scale leans close for her to grab it.
Cryosanthia listens as Geir adds his thoughts, her head dipping in agreement. Her nostrils flare, she inhales. She reaches for a slice of orange as well, crushing it in her mouth and feeling the sweet citrus trickle down her throat. "Divination, scrying, magic detection. Perhaps an artifice device could be tuned to track them."
Her head turns, she gazes at Lily, back to the copper-scale. "This one has to pick her battles. I will not leave her motherless a second time, and the last time I tried to save the world..."
Cryo leaves the sentence unfinished, she inhales, answer Geir's remaining questions, "The Resurrectionists are former followers of Animus, a collective with a spokeswoman Griva. Dangerous, in the way optomistic, absent-minded mages are. Scheming perhaps, if they restore a God, they could become high-priests and favourites, increase their personal power. Elevate themselves."
Then, the question of questions, what does she want of the Silver Empress. A hug, guidance, assurances that things will be all right. Unreasonable expectations. She bobs her head in Faran's direction before she answers, "Yes, scan for those things please."
Now back to the big question. "Her awareness, that this is in progress and may upend everything, the entire cosmology. An indication, whether she supports the efforts of this group, or would rather the God-shards, if they exist, if they're found, be brought to her or perhaps destroyed. Should we support, oppose, wait and see. Is there a stand of the people?"
Geir's amused expression returns at Lily's antics, and he opens his mouth, looking to her. He'll feed her the orange slice, and then devour one himself, before offering her a second.
"Ah.", he says in reply to Cryo's description. "When one considers that Gods require worship, one wonders, can worshipping a dead God return that God to life?" The copper-scale leave the third piece of orange upon his shoulder. Perhaps the Kobold will attempt the jump?
"If such a thing is possible... if belief of such a thing is possible... they might be incredibly dangerous indeed. One only wonders, for if we are to learn what they plan, and they are divulging only to those who do join... One surmises we need someone on the inside."
He nods to Aya, and Faran. "Aya brings up good points. Even if their intentions are well meaning, they may still do great harm."
GAME: Faranmidahn casts Detect Magic. Caster Level: 6 DC: 14
Faranmidahn nods as Cryo assents to her offer and the fingers of one hand start to flick and twine subtle gestures as she begins her soft incantation, "Magic Forces, sweeping earth to sky, reveal your flows to my focused eye." Her eyes briefly close and reopen, her pupils alight with a pink glow as she Lucht scans first for magical auras upon and around them. <halfling>
The Sith grunts.
He doesn't mind the scanning, it would appear, if that's translated.
"Who can say? If they exist and the Gods have not dealt with it themselves, perhaps there is areason for that. Perhaps these Resurrectionists are right and the God can be restored, perhaps they are not and trying would be ... not worthwhile. Fear at what may or may not come of their actions is, I suppose, reasonable, but it woulkd seem to me you are -- hmmm... counting eggs before hatching? You know very little, and have already presumed a great deal, it seems to this one. Learn more, and do not presume more. If you collect these things, they would be safe in Am'shere, you think? They would be safe in the lands of war against the Troglodytes, where the Teacher's minions still surface and seek to up end the natural order? Perhaps these God shards are a test of the strength of the mortal races, if they exist, for the Gods themselves have not collected them. Perhaps they can't. Perhaps their agents can? I do not know. Do you?"
"If they are fools to believe they can resurrect a god, they are dangerous fools," Aya opines, "but they are not the only ones seeking these shards, whether they exist or not. Taara was said to be the one who slew him. Tale or truth, the Taarans don't want a return. Touting artifact remnants of a god?" Her brows lift. "They would draw every usurper, conqueror, or power-hungry being to their doorstep, or ours."
Lily jumps! She's tiny compared to a full sized sith'makar. Kobolds are small and a youngling one, under two feet tall, easily. That lightness gives her a whip-like strength and she's up onto Geir's thigh, an arm, his shoulder to get the orange slice. She chomps it, happily opening her mouth and showing it off to the copper-scale.
The emissary has some good observations, and perhaps some misplaced criticisms. The whitescale considers, would God-Shards be safer in Am'shere, she believes yes. There is no diplomatic way to say, you haven't seen the crazy, unhinged and unlimited creativity of the self-destructive goblins and the power-obsessed gnomes. Lizard folk, Cryo knows, are a little dim. They aren't creative enough to destroy the world.
Her gaze drifts towards Lily. Kobolds might. They might be able to, but it will probably be a goblin that destroys the world. Or a gnome.
Instead Cryo says, "We are descended from Dragons, we would handle them deliberately, not carelessly. The Resurrectionists said the gods are prevented by Treaty from interferring, so they will act through agents and adventurers. And Aya is correct, they are a draw. They are not safe anywhere, but it might be safer if they are stored somewhere dangerous. If they are a test of strength, the more dangerous the better."
"Alexandrians, show a surprising lack of awareness sometimes for a Nation-state of such power. They seem equally capable of accidentally losing control of a thing as conquering it. I would expect the God-Shards to be handled no more carefully."
"What about the Evers-?" Faran starts to inquire, then breaks off, bringing the crook of a knuckle to her lips, "Hmm... Maybe not." She maintains her scan, and keeps looking at everyone, and around them, like the days when Sally was a pervasive concern. That might be a question for Mother. She knows the Storm as much as anyone, would, now.
Ahem, "I'm sure there will be demons, major ones, interested in this development, too. We have seen their hand at play, before."
The copper-scale chuckles, more smoke trailing from his nostrils. His eyes follow the pink flash, "Hmm, nicely done, Little Fang." He offers up another slice of the orange, letting the Kobold tug it from his finger with her teeth. Another slice disappears into his own maw, and he chews slowly and methodically.
"That is the quandary, isn't it? No matter your intention, seeking and possessing these shards will draw conflict. To do nothing, or to act, will make no difference." Another slice is offered up to the wee scaly girl upon his shoulder.
He looks to the elder then. "This one would prefer, if conflict is to come no matter the decision we make, to act. One believes Cryo is asking for assistance. If more information is sought, would the Empress lend a few more of her shamans?"
Aya silently ponders a strategy. Establish rumors that one or more enemy groups have located a shard and is learning to harness its powerful abilities, then wait and watch to see who pays them a visit.
A man with a gun walks in.
Don't worry, though. He's just hear for the alke.
"I would not sell short the Alexandrian soft-skins so quickly. They have long allied with us, and fought and bled for us on our side of the portal, and taken great pains to ensure that nothing crosses unallowed. I agree they are ... flawed but they are not as short-sighted as you fear."
A pause.
"... at least within the ones Ihave dealt with. I do not have the answers you seek, but I will relay your concers and fears. I hope that you understand I can not offer much assistance with as little truth as we have."
The little Knight hmm's softly, but doesn't add anything further for the moment, instead settling in on keeping a lookout for scrying or other mischief. THe fellow walking in strapped holds her eye for a while, before she folds him into the the 'observe the room' protocol.
Nothing unusual, presents itself to the Lucht Siuil.
Skitter, skitter! A light weight with small claws moves across Geir's shoulders as Lily snakes out her head and tugs, slowly tugs the orange slice from his fingers. She chomps on it very loudly and enthusiastically.
Cryo can't help but smile. A happy sight escapes, then she returns to the presentation and negotiation. She slides her right hand along her right horn, feeling the palm glide on it out the tip. Her century horn, "A fast way to contact the Silver Empress, should something time critical develop. If the group commences a ritual, this one would like to warn with minimal delay. Shaman-Caste assistance, as Shaman Geir suggests, would be useful once more is known."
Cryo sits back and straightens, glancing at the man with the gun, then focusing her attention on the emissary again, "This one has softskin friends, trustworthy and sound, that are involving themselves. I will see what they will share. This one does not wish to swear allegiance to a group I know so little about, and as my researcher observes, it is painting a target on oneself and dancing before spears to open declare for these things."
The whitescale sith leans forward, focusing more. The emissary is venerable, of great age and experience, but she feels the weight of her years. Even more, she feels the weight of her ancestors. Sith'makar that have struggled and survived, as far back to the one that preceeded the people, then further, to the blood she shares with dragons. There are patterns on her scales formed with the glacial blue highlights that haven't been seen in generations, lines that speak of an ancient heritage. She can almost feel them now, her ancestors watching her, watching him through her eyes.
With all the emphasis she can, Cryo speaks, "I fear this will move fast. The people should not be caught unawares. If the world upsets to quickly, our allies will be too worried saving themselves to save us. We must be prepared."
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls diplomacy+5: (17)+9+5: 31
Lily, full of sugar and citrus, after a long day of activity falls asleep on the spot. That spot being Geir's shoulders, which can be forgiven, as the copper-scale appears to have momentarily nodded off as well.
"You can not reach the Empress herself easily, but I will remain here on this side of the portal for a time. I will give you time to investigate the danger, along side the omens and portents. I warn not to be hasty in your judgments. Such is the way of youth, but I council anyway."
The emissary leans back in his seat. It creaks -- no, wait. Those were just his bones.
Success! The group has convinced the cranky old Sith to stay here.
Faranmidahn smiles a little bit in relief as it seems things have gone well. There was a bit of concern for a while, but, overall, yeah, things went well. The fluffy spider drifts down from the Kobold, down the sith and back up onto the Lucht's shoulder to earn a gently stroke of Faran's thumb along her shell, then a little kiss, "Good girl! Thank you, sweetie!" She looks about between the Sith again, finally letting her detection spell fade from her eyes.
Cryosanthia nods, that's good enough for her purposes, and the discussion has made her question what she was hoping for in the first place. Still, the instructions are good. Investigate further, don't be hasty.
"Okay," Everything seems complete, and her foundling has fallen asleep. And her spiritual advisor. She places her palms on the table and rises gracefully, "This one will see to an evening meal, and accomodations for you. Thank you for the journey and counsel. We shall act as directed."
We being her, Aya, Lily, Faran, hopefully Geir and anyone else she can talk into it. Find a shard, and throw it in the Everstorm. Or something. Whatever seems best, which requires a lot fewer unknowns than are currently flying around.
"The water in the baths here can be warmed, it is delightful. This one will be back momentarily, I go to make arrangements."
And she does.
Dramatis Personae
Cryosanthia
For those who have known her, Cryo is older, much older. Gone is the light on her feet, heavy in the fray, whimsical lizard girl. There is no trace of the fading youngling features which betrayed her youth, her lithe build, her playful exagerated expressions. She looks like her mother might, bigger overall with larger horns, more scale plates, a stronger keratin crest and fearsome talons. Even her gory tattoos have vanished. The Cryo you knew is gone. In a seeming instant.
For those who meet her afresh, Cryosanthia is an elegant sith-makar woman in the first year of her second century. She radiates confidence, a deep power from within. Her scales are a brilliant white, highlighted by ones which are the palest of glacial blues. These pale scales trace out the scars she used to bear, her hide is restored. She bears two fantastic patterns of these, one on her chest, the other completely covering her back from crest to tailtip. When the light hits right, one sees the dragon within. Her bearing is intense, her motions minimal grace. Two horns sweep back from her brow. Her eyes are like glittering saphhire gems, and when she blinks her eyelids have the glacial blue to them as well. She wears a white layered robe, cut for her species, with shimmering blue piping, highlights and whorls. She carries no weapons, and still keeps a tiny bag close to her heart.
For those who know the story, Cryo has been changed, physically and fundamentally by her experiences. She is a lifetime older, but a human lifetime. Still young for a sith-makar, she has centuries to go. Cryosanthia grew into herself under the fae Queen and is the only one to return with memories. These are, sadly, disrupted and Cryo struggles to reconnect with herself, her body, and friends she hasn't seen in decades. Alien at times even to the sith-makar, her heritage is written on her scales, along with her spells.
Cryosanthia, Speaker of the Sith-Makar.
Aya
This Mul'niessa stands proudly upright, regardless of how tall her four and one-half foot stature fares compared to those around her. Her flesh is a median medium grey, with a hint of blue, though may appear darker in contrast to alabaster hair. Though lengthy, her mane is firmly kept against her scalp, between her dagger-like ears, and down her back in rows of small braids that themselves weave into a large tail hanging down her spine.
She is dressed simply in a triangular, tapered wrap of white cloth that forms an angled hemline between left knee and right thigh, crosses at the small of her back, again across her chest, and completes around her neck with an off-center knot. Additional wraps of fur cover arms and legs when the climate demands it, and a subdued gray cloak keeps wind and rain away as needed. Around her neck is a small mithrail chain that weaves together in a pattern to form a pendant at her throat out of its own length. Pinned to the fabric at her left shoulder is a platinum floral broach
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, ankle 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 is 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.
Geir
The Sith-makar before you is dressed in heavy scale mail. The armor has been coloured a dark grey, like untouched basalt.
The tabard, pulled over the armor, is the same colour, and is marked with a golden scale. The mark of Vardama. From their belt hangs a sheathed khopesh, and upon their back is a kite shield, daubed the same colour as the armor. Occasionally a spear is carried over one shoulder, as well several other bags and pouches, hanging from his belt or straps tied to his armor.
The dragonborn's face is dominated by a scaled ridge that extends from his nose to the back of his head. The nose is a short snout, and lines up perfectly with his pointed, and horned, chin. The ridges over his yellow eyes run into the two, sweeping, horns that extend a good foot and a half past his neck. The pupils of his eyes are slits, like a large cat's. Also very catlike is his long, flexible tail, which follows along behind him, his armor (and clothing) having been tailored to allow it freedom of movement.
The colour of his scales is a rich, orange and copper glow. Some of his scales, like those on his face, are prominent and spade-shaped. His hands and feet are covered in such scales too, with all of his digits and toes ending in black, curved claws. The rest of his scales, on his face, arms, legs and torso, are small, well formed... fitting together so precisely as to become invisible. Which creates the effect of solid, but flexible, metal.