Happiness in Knowledge

Log Info

• Title: Happiness in Knowledge

• Emitter: Ravenstongue

• Characters: Aeson, Eztli, Ravenstongue

• Place: Market District

Lower Market District, late evening.

There's something to be said for an Alexandrian summer night. When Daeus's noble rays are gone, the world is a much cooler place. It's no wonder that, even on a weekday night, the Market District is alive and well. People are funneling in and out of the Fernwood, and people are perusing late-night stalls for seasonal food and drink. There's laughter in the distance from almost every corner.

This is a place where people live.

"Ohhhh, hello, sir Pothy! Do you want a peanut?" one vendor calls out to a white-feathered raven of blue-eyed fame. The raven is on the shoulder of someone who is eyeing a really rather-well-done sketch of herself that someone is selling, although they've rather... exaggerated the proportions of the infamous sorceress known as Cor'lana Lupecyll-Atlon, sometimes known by her adventuring alias of 'Ravenstongue', but more commonly, 'the Temptress of Alexandria'.

Cor'lana's not even fully paying attention to Pothy taking flight from her shoulder as she stares at the drawing. "It's a lovely rendition. I have far more clothes on compared to other pieces of art. But I'm not nearly that--hey, Pothy, where do you think you're going!?"

"Merp," says Pothy, who now has a peanut in his beak. His tail feathers shake up and down as he's sitting very innocently on the wooden stall of the peanut stand.

Night was, unsurprisingly, mostly an end to the day trading of goods in Alexandria, outside of trades involving grandiose meals and attempts to get business partners to imbibe far too much alcohol, at least.

Which meant that a small mottled makari was mostly finished with her business in the markets, and judging by a small scowl on their face, things weren't the best. Still, nothing a large raven couldn't improve, or a nice portrait. "Oh, hello Pothy!" Eztli greets. "And good evening to you Ravenstongue, did you request the artist to draw you like that?"

Among the stalls, Aeson meanders without purpose. There is no rhyme to the places he stops, slowly moving from stall to stall with an indifferent glance. His glasses sit perched upon his nose, reflecting light as the crowds weave around him in this adventure. A stone in the current. Well, one that's slowly plodding against it. Pothy's arrival near the foods is followed, though it's Cor'lana's words that cause him to take more interest. "It's just the whims of life. Smells and foods always used to make me wander away." he muses, finding his way to the peanuts, and looking Cor'lana and Eztli's way. "Drawings, food, fun. I forget the city doesn't really sleep."

Cor'lana blushes with Eztli's question, turning a little to look at the small makari. "Ahaha! No, no, I didn't commission this. I actually stopped to look at it because they have a very nice picture of my husband that's for sale right next to it?" She gestures at the sketch next to it that shows her husband, Telamon Lupecyll-Atlon, in a rather dignified pose himself, rather than the other pieces of art for sale where he's depicted as so buff that it could put an Angorite to tears. (Despite the fact he's an Archmage and rather vocal about such.) "I hope your night is going pleasantly--"

But the sorceress's sentiments are interrupted by Pothy taking flight to land in front of Aeson. Big white raven that he is, he tends to stop most people in their tracks. "Navos," he says reverently in the voice of an older gentleman.

"Pothy!" Cor'lana sighs, walking over to scoop up the white raven onto her shoulder again. "I'm so sorry. Pothy here loves Navosians. I think he wants to offer you the peanut he just got for free."

"Are you sure? I mean, I'd stop to look at it. Might be weird if it was me, though." Eztli responds with a shrug as she takes a look at the stall. "It does look nice, wonder why they went easier on the painting of him? Saves having to sit still for a portrait as a bonus, but I'm surprised they restrained themselves."

"I guess you know them better than anyone, but, you sure?" Eztli asks, peering at the Raven and half squinting. "If they like you more than what they were eating, that's some real high praise."

Aeson's glasses shift as his his nose wrinkles to Pothy's single word. A nod given in return as a hand rises to pull his jacket aside to flash his pin to the bird more fully. "Keen eyes." his tone neutral, but a small smile surfaces after. "Is that true, Pothy? That you see something in those who follow the oldest one?" extending a hand towards the bird.

"It's alright, Ravenstongue?" the question in Aeson's words because he'd only heard that name used by Eztli. "Apologies. If is there another way to address you, I'd gladly use it." his glance then flowing to the small Makari. "I do believe we've met." a bit stiff in this setting.

"Yes," Pothy says in reply to Aeson's questioning, this time in the voice of his mistress. Those blue eyes peer into Aeson's blue eyes. In this moment, they are odd comrades. One could even say... birds of a feather.

And then the blue eyes peer at Cor'lana. "Snacks!" he demands in the voice of an excitable child.

"Yes, yes, you'll get your snacks soon enough, Pothy," Cor'lana says with an affectionate sigh, smiling at the bird. "Please, good sir, call me Cor'lana. Or... Really, just about anything. Ravenstongue was the moniker I used when I first came to this city three years ago in search of my memories, and mother. Might I know your name?"

"Temptress of Alexandria," Pothy says, this time in a very flirtatious tone of voice that is a copy of Cor'lana's voice.

That earns Pothy a pointed violet-eyed look and a glare from the half-sil woman. "Except for that one. He's a little jerk." She sighs again. "No, I'm certain he has a fondness for Navosians. He and I have a bond, as he's my familiar, and I hear all of the little thoughts in his head. They're mostly about food. And Navosians. And shiny objects. As for why that sketch of my husband is the way it is... Maybe the artist likes him better than me. I can't fault them for that; I like him better, too."

"Oh, navosians, shiny stuff, snacks. Sounds a lot like a dragon, minus the Navosians." The small makari snnorts. "So I be he'd really like a gold navosian candy dish, or would that be too sacrilegious? Hard to say, really." They conntinue in their musings. "Aeson, right? I saw you in my dreams. Well, Telamon's dreams, you know what I mean. That and at the temple, right?"

"Could be a better night, some perfectly reasonable but still frustrating merchant just outbid me for a shipment of a certain type of wood pulp, and now I need to find someone else importing the stuff."

"You think they do? I don't know, I'm horribly biased, so hard to say. What do you think, Aeson?"

"The wife of Master Telamon." Aeson says with a firm nod, his glance having met Pothy's gaze until he squawked about snacks. This, earning a subdued chuckle that lasts but a breath. It's then he decides to close the distance, moving towards Cor'lana and the Makari.

"I know how it is with names. Though I don't like mine carrying as much weight as many attribute to it. I am Aeson Armstrong. Called Temperance, but not by myself."

"You can call me Aeson, or 'Doc'." The man says, pausing at a socially acceptable distance from the other two. If Pothy's flirtatious teasing phases him, it is hidden well. When he draws closer, his gaze doesn't wander, focusing on the faces of those he talks with. His stance is rigid, militaristic, even if he is dressed like a lower noble. "The spouse of a friend is extended the friendship of my house. A pleasure to meet you, and have a face to the name your husband is fond of mentioning."

"Yes, Eztli. That's where I recall you from. Smart, cautious, and inquisitive. Features that served our party well." Aeson confirms, his smile now larger, though his glasses make it hard to see if it reaches his eyes. "And to your question. I think they are equally loved by those who know them. One does not hear good deeds of one and not the other."

Cor'lana's face flushes a little, smiling a little wider at the remark Aeson makes of her husband mentioning her so fondly. "He does like to brag about me," she says with a little giggle. "It's often said we're a 'package deal'--so many who work with one of us can, and often do, end up getting us both. And sometimes Pothy even tags along, if it's not too dangerous. It's wonderful to meet you, Aeson."

"Snacks," Pothy reminds Cor'lana with a bit more of a pout in the voice, still copying a child's words. He gets a handful of nuts for his troubles, ferreted out from a pocket somewhere on Cor'lana's dress. Sorceresses need their pockets for wands, magic items, and--in Cor'lana's case--raven snacks. He busies himself with consuming them.

"I hope the two of you have been well in your lives," Cor'lana expresses with a smile that seems more relaxed, now that Pothy's not menacing her for legumes. "I have not been quite as active as my husband has been, but he usually prefers the limelight of his teaching, while I'm content to write songs for troupes in the Theatre District in the shadows." She sighs. "Maybe I'll return to the community poetry recitals soon, in addition to adventuring work. It's good to get out of the house."

Blink, blink. Eztli looks confused for a second. "You sure you're referring to me and not someone else? Telamon? Probably mister Lupercyll-Atlon, he was there, and I don't think I'm known for my caution or intelligence." The makari points out, chuckling. "I'm doing okay. Aside from horrible shoe setbacks, I'm sure I can find someone else to supply my well, supplies. I'd offer you a job writing music, but everything is already set in stone and I have all of my orchestral scores set aside."

"And that was an A class dodge of that question, Aeson." Eztli snickers loudly. "But I get it. Personally, I think she's prettier, but that's just between us."

"One must be careful with their words. One can be forgiven for them, but they are not forgotten." Aeson says to Eztli, a hand rising to straighten his jacket. "All people have their own beauty, but she is taken, so I would not try and make her think my intent is to threaten that." a sort of pragmatism in his words. At least to him.

"I am not as personable as some. It's not that I don't like to be talkative, it's just that my interests are not the same as most. In some cases, I feel questions of mine would be impolite." Aeson's glance turning to watch Pothy in his rummaging in pursuit of snack. "I don't like open places. Nor discussing some thoughts in them. You see, I don't like the masses knowing my opinions unless it's necessary." a hesitation, and then a breath. "The wrong words near the wrong ears has been more than just a threat in my life."

"Why would a golden candy dish be so ill seen?" A blurted word from Aeson's mouth. Yeah, he may not of mentioned it when it was said, but that seems to have finally broken the controlled demeanor as the thoughts are vocalized. "If it is cherished and used, it is not... ah. Do you mean the extravagant nature of it? The idea that money would be used for something so trifling?" thinking about those words. "I can see it both ways. It is not always about the object, but what it represents in it's use."

Cor'lana blinks a couple of times, before her cheeks redden. "Me? Really? But..." This behavior is certainly not becoming of someone that is called 'the Temptress of Alexandria', parodied in a dozen Crimson Pen novels (and many more imitators). "I didn't realize the two of you meant which one was prettier between my husband and I. My husband is certainly my pick. Looking flawless has always come naturally to him, and... He pretty much had to teach me and encourage me in how to 'put myself together'."

"Dense," Pothy comments between bites of shelled nuts, this time mimicking Cor'lana's own voice.

The sorceress shakes her head at Pothy, and for a moment, she seems grateful for the reprieve from him that the others' comments offer. "I'm glad your stage production is going well, Eztli," she says. "And Aeson, that's a good question. I, myself, followed Navos when I was young, but then I became close to both Eluna and Ceinara--Ni'essa and Vaire, in the sildanyari tongue--and... I don't think it would matter to many Navosians what the material of the candy dish was, so long that it suited its purpose. Pothy has eaten from very poor plates indeed in his time. What he likes most is the pursuit of knowledge.. about food."

She chuckles a little. "Probably has to do with his origins. My sorcerous talent is odd in that it's a spark, passed down from heritor to heritor, and Pothy always goes with the magic. My working theory is that a servitor of Navos gifted him and the magic to an ancestor of mine on my mother's side of the family. He's told me himself that he's supposed to be a keeper of knowledge. Just... all he seems to know is snacks. I can give him the ability to speak in his own voice, if you'd like to question him about it."

"Yeah, that's true. But like I was saying, I'm not known for my intelligence or cautiousness, which has a way of biting you in the rear if you aren't careful. Not saying I wasn't smart, I did well enough in the colleges to need to find other ways to disappoint my parents, but I wasn't getting top of my class in anything." Eztli responds, chuckling again. "I mean, yeah, I guess it's excessive? Like, I know some clerics don't like objects made for non ritual objects, and someone might find it tasteless, like what does Navos even have to do with storing candy? Doesn't make that much sense."

"Oh, you know about it! Thank you, it's not going that well, but I'm trying, at least! Even if I can't complete it, it's something I need to do for myself." She adds to Ravenstongue, sounding excited that someone heard about it. "And of course, well come on miss Lupercyll-Atlon, putting yourself together can go a long way, but only so far."

"Navos claims me, though I don't know why he has blessed me on his behalf. All I feel is his urgings, like a nudge. My connection with the Oldest is not like others and their gods." Aeson says with a a subtle sigh. "Temperance is what the church calls it, but I am not in their ranks. If anything, his boon ever makes me feel an outsider. As I do not know what he wants from me, but I know in some vague ways what he expects." a hand rising to adjust his glasses. "Pursuit of knowledge. Bringing light to the lies that seek to obscure it, and to look at the future as it should be."

"As for Pothy, that is a fascinating story of lineage and magics. I... I have questions. Many. Though this setting might not be the best tonight." Aeson's motioning towards the business of the district. "For now I would hear more of these writings and arts." speaking of Eztli.

"And being intelligent is not something often learned in school. I am speaking of things beyond that. Your instinct. The way you think. It is not taught from books. Inquisitive minds find a way to learn, school or not."

"I am no cleric," Cor'lana readily admits, "but there's knowledge in everything. Even in something as little as eating sweets. Aeson's right, too. Instinct is something that can't be taught, but it's also kind of part of gathering knowledge, I'd think."

As Cor'lana chats, Pothy eyes Aeson a little. Those blue eyes are oddly intelligent for a familiar--even one belonging to an accomplished sorceress. "Happiness," he says, this time in a mimic of Telamon's voice.

It's clear hearing her husband's voice out of Pothy makes Cor'lana stop right in her tracks, blinking. "Happiness, Pothy?" She studies him a moment longer before she looks at Aeson. "He wants me to tell you... You should find happiness in your pursuit of knowledge."

She smiles a little. "I would hate to leave so early when I am having such joy talking to you both, but Pothy speaking in my husband's voice has reminded me that my dearest husband should be emerging from his scrying soon... I should go tend to him. Divination can take a lot out of a soul."

"That, must be nice, having some sort of framework, however vague it might be. I'd hate to beholden all the time, but it beats stumbling around with no clue what you're doing." Eztli shrugs. "Yeah, you're right, there's other things to be learned. Easier to pick up some new dance steps over a book, though a book about dancing is pretty good too."

The makari stops to think for a moment, and shrugs again. "I don't know what really brings me happiness, so I'll think about that some more. I mean, actual happiness, not looking at a pretty picture. But that's enough dismal talk! Nice to see you again, go take care of them, and, yeah. Maybe not the best time, but I can answer questions another time, sound good?"

"Happiness? It is there." Aeson says in dry tone, but his smile seems real enough. "It was a pleasure to meet both of you ladies this evening." stating it simply as he tucks his hands into his jacket, offering Pothy a nod. "Agreed, another time we should meet for talk and questions. I can offer the clinic and tea. These days we don't see much business, but I suspect when the seasons change I will be busy once again." stepping away from the two. He's not much for lingering, nor does he seem inclined to engage when others are busy. "Depending on the day, you might be lucky and there will be sweets." this spoken from over his shoulder. "The Illuminated Hand. It's just a small place." speaking of his work in the lower part of the city.

"I'm sure Pothy will be happy to accept, regardless of what they are," Cor'lana replies to Aeson with a wide grin. "It was wonderful to meet the both of you here, as well. I'm sure Pothy would love to answer questions when we can meet again. I certainly would like to." She eyes Pothy. "Pothy, be nice and say 'see you later'."

Here, she leans in and kisses Pothy on his fuzzy little pale-feathered head. Something about the bird changes. He opens his beak, and a voice of a young boy, maybe not much older than five or six years old, floats out. "See you later. Aeson, give me lots of snacks, okay?"

Before anyone can linger on Pothy's suddenly advanced mimickry, Cor'lana turns about--hastily buying up the sketches of herself and her husband from the artist before she leaves the market, walking through the cool summer night: for there are not many Alexandrian summer nights remaining. Autumn and all its bounties await with the changing of seasons.