Ill Met in the Fernwood
Log Info
- Title: Ill Met in the Fernwood
- Emitter: Whirlpool
- Characters: Sabina, Cryosanthia, Isilme, Stjepan
- Place: A07: Fernwood Pub
- Time: Tuesday, March 16, 2021, 10:09 PM
- Summary: Madah'Chern Akorinil ferch Belvade yun Lithrinil dem Kenduis is holding court in the Fernwood with her guards. Actually, she's there for a spot of lunch and wine, and her guards aren't. Sabina arrives, and strives to interrogate the delegate. Cryosanthia, then Isilme and Stjepan arrive separately soon after, but join together at the table. Akoniril has recently secured a strong food contract for Charn. Cryo sends Lily to the kitchen with warnings that she act with some dignity, then accidentally reveals the existence of the Death Orb, a possible Animus Shard, to all present. Akoniril is surprised at the candor, and the others are curious. Cryo fills in the details as best she can, her information effectively third hand, now forth. There is an orb at the mines, it has a mental influence, people who get near it die, a bunch of miners have already and an inexperienced party of adventurers nearly did. The Guild plans to send a stronger one. The conversation diverts to Angoron Midwifery. Cryo copies Akoniril's revealing clothes, and the lunch meet breaks up.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-<* A07: Fernwood Pub *>--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
The 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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-=-=- Madah'Chern Akorinil ferch Belvade yun Lithrinil dem Kenduis -=-=-=-=- Akorinil 4'5" 98 LB Shadow Elf Female Diplomatic Delegate, Priestess of Taara, NPC -=--=--=-- Aristocrat of the family Belvade of House Kendui =--=--=--=--=--=- -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Appearing =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Sabina 5'4" 130 Lb Human Female Tsuran woman of dark hair and green eyes Cryosanthia 6'9" 291 Lb Sith-Makar Female A dashingly tall, elegant white-scaled lizard woman. Isilme 6'0" 158 Lb Wild Elf Female A tall elf with dark brown hair. Stjepan 8'0" 534 Lb Giantborn Male Big, blonde jotun. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- As the GM =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Whirlpool Otyugh I am stinky! -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
It has been a long time since an official Charn Dignitary has graced the Fernwood Pub. Back then, it had a different name and the city was under intense occupation from the Charn.
At the moment, the Shadow Elven woman is seated by the fire, a goblet of red wine in her hand.
Bina enters into the Fernwood some time later without her pet. Last time he was in here he caused a rather large distraction and Bina figures it safer to leave him outside apon the roof.
The bemasked priestess pauses a few steps inside the door and takes a look about, her smile in place and a wave given to a few folk she knows casually. She then spots the Charnese woman and the priestess drowps a small and playful curtsey.
"Why, hello there," says Akorinil, warmly, to Sabina. She radiates the pleasure of one indulging in delicious food. Which she is. Food and red wine, of course. The reddeset.
"It's so good to see you again, priestess," she offers.
Bina smirks and slowly walks towards the dark elf, skipping the last bit of space til she's beside the table. "Good evening. And how fares the most regal Akorinil? Well I I hope?"
The door has barely banged shut before it opens again. A whitescaled Sith'makar woman enters, wearing what seem to be casual clothes, loose pants with a square cut, and a similar kind of tunic with sleeves that end just past the elbow. Also gloves, and a hat with earflaps and tassels. Her ensemble is a stark white, except for the knit hat which is multi-coloured.
Following behind her is a carnation-scaled Kobold in a puffy pink parka, which is hood down and wide open as the weather is favourable at the moment.
The larger lizard looks around, her spirits lift as she spots Sabina. They sink, as she recognizes who she is with. Her breath is held. Walking right out crosses her mind. Instead, she takes off her haversack and hands it to her daughter. She hisses, "Help out in the Kitchen. Do not let them feed you the food scraps. You are not a garbage can." The youngling bounds through the swinging doors to the kitchen. <draconic>
Inhaling, steeling herself, Cryosanthia approaches the other two. "Peace on your Nests. Wine seems like a fine idea."
The Makari's arrival earns a glance from Akorinil. A perfectly arched eyebrow is raised.
Then to Bina. "Oh, I'm doing *very* well. Everything is going quite lovely. The negotiations are in progress as we speak."
Bina lifts her face to note Cryo and Lily's enterence. The pair get a welcoming smile and Bina nods to Cryo as she nears. "Peace apon your nest and you are right. Wine seems a fine idea for multiple reasons." She turns back to Akor and asks, "Negotiations? Which ones are going well and should I congratulate you on them?"
Cryo raises a hand and signals the Half-sil server with a little fingerwave. Kaeryn nods, slips into the kitchen and returns with two more glasses of wine. The whitescale hasn't moved, she remains standing still until the glasses are in reach. With a nod, she takes both, passes on to Sabina and glances around.
A bench is nearby. A slight rotary motion of her hips and she snags it with her tail and pulls it close, then sits. She takes a sip of her wine. Exhales firmly across her glass, making an odd hum.
"Peace upon your nest," remarks Akorinil with a smile towards Cryo and Bina. She offers it smoothly. Of course, how Cryo might take it is anyone's guess. She sips her red wine, this Shadow Elf, and then leans back in her seat.
"I hope that you'll have a great deal to congratulate me on soon enough. Food for my people, for one. It's important that a populace of civilians be fed, don't you think?'"
'Bina gives Cryo another nod and tucks her dress under her as she sits on the new bench. The wine glass spinning slowly between her fingers and thumb. "Feeding the populace is always a good idea. Usually that would happen with commerce? Folk making deals and making coin. I take it that the usual means are not enough?" She glances over at Cryo and gives her another smile and then asks the shadow elf, "Is that why there are more folk coming in from Charn recently? Looking for jobs and food?"
"Yes. Food is good. This one agrees." Cryosanthia says, taking a sip. A careful observer would note a few things. She holds the glass in the same hand as Akoniril, same number of fingers on the stem or extended. Her sip is the same length of time, roughly the same amount, a reptilian mouth is not the same, nor are lizard lips, nor her smile. Her movements are two heartbeats delayed. She mirror-mirrors.
The door of the establishment opens, and a tall female elf steps inside. The female elf's Amber eyes glow with warmth, and a smile touches her lips. She is bundled up in a heavy brown wool cloak; the enfolds her tall frame. Over her shoulder, she carries a leather messenger bag. Underneath her arm, she carries an intricately carved apothecary box. She pauses just in the entrance, long enough to allow her eyes to adjust to the change in lighting. Spying a server, she calls out, "Blessed be the day, be there cider?"
"Yes we do! Here you go sugar!" The half-sil server bounces up to the tall elf, snagging a glass of cider from the bartender. She smiles happily, "Sit anywhere!"
"This one is more focused on the immediate." Cryo says, looking at Sabina and Akoniril, "Are you interested in food? I know the TarRaCe had a Manticore Meals night. This one suspects the Fernwood to have simpler fare."
Sabina winces slightly. "Manticore steaks brought to us at great personal cost to some adventurers. I keep meaning to find out who and ask them down to taste the spoils of their fight." She tsks softly and sips from her glass.
Catching Isilme out of the cornor of her eye she turns and offers the woman a wave.
"Thank thee, kindly." The elf says with a bow with a free hand. She offers to take it from the server. Amber eyes are looking for the right place to sit; that is when they fall onto Sabina. Her smile grows brighter, "Room for another my dear lady at your table?" She asks the woman. Her eyes glance over at Cryosanthia, and a small bow of her head is offered in greeting.
"Of course!" The whitescaled woman says cheerfully, gesturing with a dipped hand at the most vacant quadrant of the table, opposite her own. She's occupying a short bench entirely by herself, and the way her tail sways back and forth it would be difficult to share.
She touches the same hand to her chest, the other is occupied with a wine glass. "This one is Cryosanthia, Speaker of the Sith'Makar." An open palm gesture follows that, towards the Mul'niessa seated near, with a similar glass of red wine, "This is Madah'Chern Akorinil ferch Belvade yun Lithrinil dem Kenduis, High Priestess of Taara, Delegate to Alexandria from Charn, and recently, a very successful negotiator for food shipments for her nation."
Her hand swings to the other side, "This is Sabina of Tarien, Priestess of Tarien, propritor of the TarRaCe, which is an excellent dining and bathhouse experience."
The Tarienite chuckles and pats the bench. "She and I have met before, Cryosanthia. May I introduce Isilme, priestess of Angoron. One of his midwives. She of a level head and somewhat new to the city."
Her long legs move her towards the table with ease; a bow is given once she reaches them. "A pleasure to join you all," Isilme says as the box and is placed on the table. She then takes her messenger bag off of her shoulder and places it beneath the bench. Next, her cloak is removed, revealing that she is dressed plainly in just a brown wool gown. A blue linen chemise provides a layer between gown and skin. A red and blue ribbon, embroidered with the holy symbol of her god, encircles each brown sleeve of the outer gown. "Sabina, how is your lovely friend this day? I do not see him here with you." Her gaze then moves over to Cryosanthia, "it is lovely to partake in libations with you all; I am curious to hear what news that you have."
"Manticore! Why, I have not had manticore in *forever*, darlings," says Akornil. She manages a smile at Cryosanthia. "You seem to be more amenable to my presence tonight. Was it something I said?"
She seems to be having a little fun, yes.
Cryo bites her lip. She inhales just a smidge, squeezing her lips together harder. She's trying not to laugh at a memory, a specific mental image. Very carefully she says, "The Mountain. Yes. This one goes there occasionally, this one loves beating on the drums."
"News...." Cryo's voice trails off in a long exhale. She tries again, "News, news, news, news... what's news."
"Well there's a Death Orb out near the mines." She sounds tired. Distracted. Ssshssss! Scales! Silver Scales! She wasn't supposed to mention that! Oh well, everyone into the pool then. "Killed some Miners."
The whitescale looks over at Akoniril, shakes her head slightly, "No. It wasn't."
Stjepan ducks in under the lintel of the door, then straightens up. He's in city-wear tonight -- a very large suit that probably wore out more than one tailor's needle along the way. It's grey, though, and looks easy to clean. He did keep the sword, which looks normal-sized on him, but is really about one person long. There's a moment as he scans the room, looking for the good (weight-bearing) seats, to see if they're occupied: priorities.
"A death orb?" Bina blinks and raises her brows behind her mask. "That sounds grim." She tsks and shakes her head. "Other news might be that someone was rescued/broken free from the headsman's block .. or was it noose.. Not to long ago. They have been making arrests right and left." She then focuses in on Akornil. "You're welcome to stop by for some manticore."
There is a distant, 'Ruaaahh!' from outside.
With ease, Isilme settles herself down onto a bench. The cider is picked up, and she takes a sip as she listens to the answer to her question, and she cannot help but chuckle a little at the banter. With the mention of a death orb in the mine, she raises an eyebrow. "What do you think it is protecting there? Who broke free from the noose? What of the arrests? Any news on the shards?" As she says this she catches sight of the familiar form of Stjepan, "Stejepan," She raises her hand in greeting to him.
Cryo waves as Sabina rushes outside. Oh, the perils of pet ownership. There's a crash in the kitchen. She glances sideways at the doors. She breaks her mirroring of Akoniril, and takes a much longer sip of her red wine, almost draining all of it.
"So many questions. Let me see. Delilah Valethor was being executed for the murder of Bethany Alenthor, and it wasn't a noose it was an executioner's axe. Executioner was a Gnoll. Gname uGnkown. Sabina's friend, Bannon, and my friend Mikilos as well as a few others were in the crowd. The crowd got rowdy and they were picked up for ... perhaps interferring, perhaps trying to quell the crowd. Mikilos was freed recently on bail, thanks to the Alexandrian Tribune. The people who freed Delilah from the execution, well, the wanted posters are around town. Two hobgoblins, her sister and a mage. Their names slip my mind."
"As for news on Shards, well..." She glances at Akoniril, then returns her gem-like gaze to Isilme, "The Death Orb might be one. This one has no idea what it's doing, just that it's a hazard."
Mostly truths, a few lies by ommission, that should be fine. There's another crash in the kitchen. "Pardon, this one must check on that." She flows smoothly to her feet and threads between the tables like this was her home.
Stjepan gets out of the way of the quickly retreating Sabina, then waves towads Isilme, smiling: "Isilme!" There's a moment, as he takes in the other moments of the table. Cryosanthia, gets a wave and a nod as well, and Akornil gets a polite nod. He ambles over, snagging a good, solid chair in one hand along the way. "Mind if I pull up a chair?" He watches people flee, and looks down at his coat.
"Everything's buttoned properly, right?"
"...death orb," says Akorinil after a long moment. "I see. Well. You should go get that, then. As quickly as possible, before someone else does."
She has stiffened. She does not look happy to hear about that. The Shadow Elve, a lovely red haired shadow elf in black garments that scream elegance and show entirely too much skin, is seated. There are guards near her table, quite clearly *her* guards.
"That's the plan..." Guards? How did I miss the guards? Cryosanthia wonders as she slides around them like a fish through water. It's only a few steps and then the whitescaled woman is through the kitchen doors. None of the Fernwood staff react or even glance her way, the bartender continues to pour out ales.
Something domestic occurs out of sight. As quickly as possible appears to allow for detours for lunch, and chatting with the chef, or chasing a kobold around the kitchen.
Stjepan isn't super-guard-calming as a presence, but he smiles towards Akorinil and raises his hand. "Stjepan -- you must be Akorinil. Well met." He flashes dimples at her in his best impression of a calming expression.
"That's me! I imagine you know my daughter, don't you? Lovely girl. Shadow Elf like me, obvioiusly, with the red hair. Faiza Belvade, hm?"
She smiiiiiles at Stjepan.
"Ah yes, we've met -- she's profoundly competent." Stjepan sits back, and waves for mulled cider of his own -- he needs a Stjepan-sized mug anyhow. "A pleasure. I trust you're enjoying Alexandria?"
"She always did take things *very* seriously. I am pleased to hear she's competent in her new role."
It's ... backhanded. A little bit. Faiza's mother is all smiles, however.
"The meat has to rest. Ressting meat is not set out for you to eat. Say sorry." Hissing draconic, in an admonishing tone, can be heard briefly as the kitchen doors swing. <draconic>
"Ssorry." There is a high pitched reply. <draconic>
"Be good, Ssassa will be leaving soon." Cryosanthia emerges from the kitchen, dances around the guards and drops down to her bench seat. She pulls her knees up high as she rotates on it, slipping her large feet under the table. Smiles, right, smiles are good. The whitescale smiles.
Isilme is quiet as she listens to the answers that are given. The conversation seems to flow around her like a quiet stream wandering through a green meadow. An eyebrow is raised, another drink of her cider is had. She nods her head, "Interesting and Master Stjepan, I do not mind." She looks at the other two, and a smile is then given to the guards. "Indeed, there is much to learn. So it was the minors who reported the death orb? Have you two seen it?"
Stjepan smiles back at Cryo, "How long is that going to last?" He nods to Akonril. Apparently, backhanded words from a shadow elf doesn't even rate a smirk. He confirms: "She's lovely." He takes a moment to relax, looking over to Isilme. "Thank you." There's a pause. "Death orb?" Clearly, he hasn't heard.
A look towards Cryosanthia. She's definitely curious as to the answer, Akorinil is. She's clearly not one who knows ALL the things the guild gets up to, but then... why would they tell her?
"Ahh... no. The Miners didn't survive. A group of Adventurers were sent by the Explorer's Guild to see what happened." Cryosanthia says, not smiling anymore. "Their mage was nearly overcome, tried to run up to it. They pulled her back. Seeing it, was hypnotic, or something."
"A few minutes," Cryo looks over at Stjepan, "The small group got back, asked for more experienced help. Are you good at resisting mind control? I might need your help."
She looks at Akoniril next, wobbling her head towards a guard, "What about your guys, they any good at resisting mental influences? You could send one, get an unfiltered report. I'm not organizing it, but..."
The Sith'makar woman shrugs, "I don't know who is. I'm not going alone. Maybe someone is stealing the notices."
"Those that the gods have touched are usually good at resisting such things, as it takes a wit not to be burned witless upon first feeling the power of the gods. Even those of nature have some will, as nature too can be harsh on the mind," Isilme, nods her head a little bit, "That is a shame, were they able to get the bodies of the miners back so they could be laid to rest so they do not rise from the dead?" Her lips touch the glass before she takes another sip of her drink.
Stjepan gives a pause. "I've resisted it before. I'm not sure how I'd define 'good,' though. Most beings definitely don't want to fail at mind controlling me when I'm on the job." He nods to Cryosanthia. "If you need help, let me know -- I'm in." He winces. "That sounds unpleasant, though." A nod to Isilme. "One might hope."
"Hm. I might take the opoortunity to observe you all at work but I don't think Griva would appreciate it, and I don't want to step on her toes."
A beat.
"...quite *that* hard, anyway."
"Ha! No." Cryo laughs, futility in her voice, "if they tried we'd be going to get the bodies of the people who went to get the bodies. Getting close seemed like a bad idea to them. This information is second hand, really third hand, from me now. I made the meeting where it was discussed but someone there had to tell me the parts I missed."
"We're going to go out soon, I'll see what I can do to make it happen fast. I'll let you know, Stjepan, and you too Isilme if you wish."
"Ok." Cryo looks over at Akoniril and nods. She doesn't say anything more for a moment, simply stares. It's at these times when she's still, quiet, that her more bestial aspects stand out. Her scales, the shape of her face, with snout and eye ridges. Her horns, ear frills and keratin crests. The sapphire-like eyes with slits for pupils and the mild chill that always surrounds her. She breaks it with movement, a smile, "I don't suppose you have any news? Beyond your contract, which is good. Congratulations."
"Mmhm," says Akorinil. The beastial look in her direction isn't particularly vexing to her. She does smile towards Isilme, though. "An absolute pleasure to meet you, dear. My name is Akorinil. Akorinil Belvade, dignitary of Charn. And one of Taara's priestesses, of course."
"Lovely to meet you to Akorinil." Isilme, looks thoughtful still as she continues to sip her drink. Pausing she says to Cyro, "It will depend, if there is a brith I need to attend then I cannot. If there is not one then, I will be there." She glances over at Stjepan, "Indeed, you have luck by your side. You are also kind to offer your services."
Stjepan accepts his long-in-coming cider, and wraps both hands around it with a sigh. "Good. It's better to do things, especially now that I've recovered some and it doesn't hurt to move around again." He takes a long sip of cider. "Luck, you say. Sometimes, at least."
"MMmhm," Cryo says, looking away from Akoniril, focusing on Isilme's words, "May the Mountain come to you then, and help with that."
She sits back, wriggling in her seat, sitting tall and lifting her head high. Mentally she's amusing herself with an image of a cross-dressing Angoron in an ill fitting blond wig, saying 'PUuuuuUUSHH!' Something she was disabused of a while ago, but personal hereseys are hard to let go. Especially when they're funny.
She pops back from her daydreams, "Well, this one must go. Nice... well it was a nice glass of wine, and meeting you Isilme. Good to hear you're healed up Stjepan, we'll see what the Guild can do about that." Cryo stands, and moves her little bench seat back to where she got it.
It is as if she can hear the thoughts of Cryosanthia, Isilme laughs, "Yes, I told a tall blonde once to stand back and let me do my work, and would they be so kind as to support the woman." She laughs again and finishes off her drink. "It is was a pleasure to meet you, may your day be blessed Cryosanthia." She looks to Stjepan, "You really are kind to offer and one of the Mountain's children." She glances to Akorinil. "What are your thoughts on the matter of the Death Orb in the mine?"
"Wise. Some people never can stand to let people do the job that needs to be done if they're not the ones to do it themselves, no?" Akorinil nbods solemnly, casting a glance to Cryosanthia curiously before her eyes back to Isilme.
"That it's dangerous and ought to be contained properly very soon." A smile.
"Thank you, and you as well." Cryo returns the blessing. She slaps Stjepan lightly on his shoulder. He's as solid as a rock. Not unexpected.
Her attention turns to Akoniril. "Oh, one last thing." The Sith'makar shakes her arms, loosening her rather simple clothes as if she's about to do something. Which she does, it involves staring at the shadow elf and examining her in detail. A moment of concentration later, and Cryo is wearing a duplicate of Akoniril's clothes. In white instead of black, and showing entirely too much scale while still screaming elegance. Faint glacial blues decorate it in highlights and embroidery.
Cryo has a small mirror in hand, which she uses to look herself over. "Hmmm. A little disappointing through the chest area but that's really my fault. I'll have to see what embellishments I can add. And tail... yes, tail looks fine. Had to improvise."
She untwists and pockets the mirror, "I hope you don't mind. Your taste is excellent."
The other bit makes her blink, "You don't want me to go get it? I don't want me to go get it either, but I think I'm going. I don't understand. Anyhow, Peace!" Now she's swishing through the guards like a shark.
"It depends on the situation, to be honest Akorinil." A smile is given to her she looks back to Cryo and offers another bow of her head. "Pleasure meeting you again."
"I didn't say I didn't want you to get it."
Akorinil does observe Cryosanthia and her actions, though. In fact, the elegant mirroring of her own clothing has her placing a hand over her mouth in delight and amusement at the same time. "Not at all, my darling. We Belvades are fashion icons back home. Or so I'd like to think. These days, my Faiza wears *armor*, can you believe it?" She sounds SO disappointed in her daughter right there.
Then she shakes her head. "No, no. I don't mean that YOU shouldn't go get it." Then to Isilme. "It depends on the situation, anyyway,"
"Armour? Oh my!" Cryo grins. There is a final? wave to the table. The whitescale does practice long goodbyes. Intended for Isilme, most likely, though the priestess of the Goddess of Lies can pretend she's included. She'd know the trust behind the gesture, in any case.
She slips into the kitchen and there are squeals of greeting. One lizardly, the other half-sil and giggling. "Cryo! What are you wearing! I can see your everything!"
"Not everything Kaeryn, it's Shadow Elf fashion, Iconic! You should get some."
"It'd never contain me!"
"I think that's the idea."
The rest of the exchange is cut off as the doors close again. A few minutes later the whitescale with her trailing carnation scale emerge and head for the exit. There is another wave in Isilme and Akoniril, and her associated guards' direction. This one, this is the final wave. They slip out.
Isilme's eyes are bright, "Now that was an interesting meeting. Many webs to be laid." She shrugs her shoulders. "I should get something to eat and some more cider."
OOC
<OOC> Stjepan says, "Please. Angoron is all about the body oil. >.> <.< It's gunna stain a wig :)"
<OOC> Cryosanthia just imagines Thor trying to be a midwife
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "Rosie the Riveter pose, "You can do it! PUSH"
<OOC> Isilme laughs.
<OOC> Stjepan grins. "Squeeze my hands. Squeeze as hard as you like."
<OOC> Cryosanthia nods
<OOC> Stjepan says, "I mean, maybe more a s a doula? ;)"