Crossing the Line

Log Info

• Title: Crossing the Line
• Emitter: Aryia
• Characters: Aryia, Cryosanthia, Culix, Seldan
• Place: A12: Memorial Gardens District
• Time: Wednesday, June 16, 2021, 12:59 PM
• Summary: Aryia is in the Memorial Gardens, still shaken up by her experiences on the South Banks. Cryosanthia has been searching for her, it fits in well with her Shell Game, and comes across her. Seldan, also has luck and a timely appearance. Culix, who had been seeking to discuss the bombing at the docks, manages to find the Mul'niessa as well. They talk, with Lily translating handsign for Cryo, Seldan using his spell and Culix winging her understanding. Aryia struggles with feeling useless, and powerless, and the feelings of fear the encounter left her. Culix explains what happened at the docks, her recovery and her perspective. As well as what she plans to do. Cryo says she doesn't want to be involved in that, she has to pick her battles now. The conversation turns to Aryia's concerns. Cryo uses her gloves to clean her and brush her hair, while Seldan tells a story of his earliest adventures, where he was used as bait for hags, and how hard it was. Culix adds her perspective that Guild work is reasonable, and she'd rather the risk over the safe life of being in jail. Cryo opens up a little, revealing some of her failures and fears, and how experience hasn't solved any, though she is better at facing them. She suggests concentrating on small successes. She also recognizes the suffering the Mul'niessa had in Charn, and shares how she used to fear mages. Lily meanwhile, practices being a knight with Faran's heirloom sword, protecting all. Culix departs and the remaining three talk further, attempting to be sympathetic, empathetic without sounding condescending. Aryia asks Cryo where the line is, between regular people and adventurers, and the whitescale explains she believes Aryia has crossed it already. As she walks away, Aryia draws a line then steps over it. Making the decision to seize her own destiny, whatever the costs may be.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=-<* A12: Memorial Gardens District *>-=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

Among the gardens, scents mingle: green, loam and subtle sweetness, wafting from the meticulously groomed grounds. The lawns are richly green, dense and close-cropped, bordered with polished pale marble stones the size of a human man's fist. The pathways are smoothly cobbled in muted tones that subtly echo and contrast with the surrounding greenery, shaded by the lush canopies of tall, straight trees whose branches arch over the walkways to form open, airy tunnels. Elegantly ornate, tall mana-lamps of wrought black iron keep the paths softly lit in the evenings; they are often situated near benches of matching material and style. It is peaceful, here. Somber. It is also curiously warm and green no matter the time of year; leaves do change color in fall but remain on the trees until spring comes again.

At the heart of the park where the paths converge are large marble pedestals supporting bronze or marble statuary, chiseled letters upon the heavy bases naming the subject of each piece. The previous sculpture celebrating the union of Alexandros with Myrddion has been removed from the center of the garden and replaced with a gorgeous statue of the Crown Princess Lianna Rena and a marble walkway that leads to the Monument of Heroes - a newly-raised edifice celebrating those who fought and died on behalf of others. Tribute is still given to the friendship between Myrddion and Alexandros in the form of the paired standards mounted above the entrance to the Monument of Heroes: one from each nation. The flagstaffs are crossed and held by a Myrrish Knight and an Old-Alexandros Miner.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  Appearing, in Order  =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Aryia        4'8"     110 Lb     Shadow Elf        Female    A heavily scarred mul with a curious look about her.
Cryosanthia  6'9"     291 Lb     Sith-Makar        Female    A dashingly tall, elegant white-scaled lizard woman.
Culix        3'2"     36 Lb      Goblin            Female    Beady-eyed goblin female in leathers and hood.
Seldan       5'11"    187 Lb     Human             Male      Ginger-blonde human in armor wearing Eluna's symbol.
=-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=

Nightfall, one day after the river bank ambush.

Dark clouds still linger overhead from the drizzle that swept across the city, the occasional roll of thunder in the background signaling a downpour many miles away in the sea. The sun retired early, lamplights the only illumination along the gardens as the stars and moon hide away behind a stormy blanket.

Curled up on one of the benches that line an offshoot of the gardens is a mul'neissa, hair plastered to her face and clothes stuck to her scarred skin from the rain. She holds her knees to her chest, arms wrapped around her legs and chin propped atop them. One of the cold iron dusters was removed from her hand, the infernal ichor caked weapon flopped over beside her. She runs a shaky hand through her hair, eyes bloodshot and glued to the ground.

"-t - th- -ct- f-k - -g -th th- p-ce? - - - -? - -st d-d -g-. -t f-s -ke - - th- p-ts," she hisses to herself. Unintelligable.

A green-scaled Sith'makar couple is travelling through the Memorial Gardens. Mother and daughter. The rain is washing over their scales and oil-cloaks. They do not seem bothered by the weather. The older female is frequently looking about, moving with readiness, seeking something. Or somethings. The younger is more playful, kicking around a small ball, running off and returning. Never going too far, and always under a watchful eye.

The little one spots Aryia first, and points with a hiss. The larger looks around. No one else is nearby, there's good tree cover, rain and darkness.

"Ok Lily, be ourselves." She touches beside her eyes, and shimmers. The youngling does the same. Cryosanthia, in her swashbuckling gear and with partially formed wings, appears. Lily, wearing a very small leather dress that's a light tan which goes well with her pink scales, and a wooden sword, appears also after the little greenscale does a similar touch to the eyes.

Cryo collects their ball and both approach Aryia. She quietly hisses, "Aryia... Peace on your nest. Do you wissh to talk?"

This time, Seldan is much better prepared for the weather. Eluna may hide her face this evening, but he has still sung his prayers, and with that, his business for the day is concluded. Ths leaves him with time to seek out a few loose ends from yestereven's incident. In truth, he'd been looking for the individuals involved for a good part of the day, and voices drifting across the Gardens grabs his attention.

Unlike yesterday, he wears full plate armor, plain-looking enough but of good quality, and carries his sword openly on his hip. He wears two cloaks - oiled grey wool over a midnight-blue silk, the hoods both up, the look much more prepared for the road - and for trouble.

He approaches a little more closely, but remains some distance back in a watchful pose, and waits to be acknowledged.

Culix is making an uncharacteristic visit to the gardens, today. Largely due to the fact that since her close encounter with an exploding head and the subsequent burning cloak, she has been recuperating for the past few days at one of the local temples. The goblin's hair has been shorn short, given that patches of it were burned right off, and the side of her face bears an ugly- but healing- patch of pale green scar tissue, where she had suffered a burn. She also carries herself stiffly- she suffered that slashing wound to her back as well.

The goblin spies a familiar face curled up on the bench, and tilts her head quizically. She begins making her way over towards Aryia, though doesn't immediately adress her given the whitescale is already doing that.

The mul sat herself a bit off the main path, cloaked in night. Good enough to keep most from spotting her. She ignores the footfalls that pass by, but didn't realize they would be coming towards her.

Abruptly, she jolts to her feet, the unfastened cestus cocked back and ready to launch. Her scared visage settles on Cryo, and then Lily. She shudders, metal clanking beside her as she drops the weapon and falls back onto the bench.

She shrugs at the question. "P... P-s n-st..." Aryia whispers.

Cryosanthia moves carefully and slowly, aware she isn't seen as a threat but conscious of her size. She slides into a sitting position beside Aryia. Close, legs coiled to spring up. She reaches out to touch, her hand hesitating, and she rests it nearby instead. "Peace on your Nest. This one is here."

Lily is not so restrained, tiny pink claw resting on Aryia's knee. A squeeze. She draws her wooden sword and stands in the basic fighting stance, the first stance, weapon up. On guard.

The whitescale looks around, notices Culix and raises her head suddenly, sniffing in her direction. The Silverguard is noted also, but not immediately recognized with both hoods. Cryo addresses Culix, "You look like you've been through hell. Too."

The last observation finally causes Seldan to look more closely at the gobber, and something in her appearance finally prompts him to come forward, the quiet greeting readily identifying him. "Her light upon your path. I do not wish to disturb -" he trails off, hesitating. "Are you in need of aid? Either of you?" That question is directed at both Aryia and Culix, with a well-placed glance, but he remains a little distance back, uncertainty written in demeanor and bearing.

"Little bit." Culix responds, and then uptilts her chin towards Aryia, "She looks like she stuck around after I left, though." she comments on the topic of going through hell. She moves up a bit closer, now she's been acknowledged, "Been meaning to see how you was doing." she calls over to Aryia, "After the uh, thing on the docks. But looks like it might be a bad time." she adds.

She eyeballs the paladin, and then shrugs, "Reckon I'm good as any finger wiggling can get me. Just aches and pains, now." she comments.

Aryia vacantly stares forward as the tall woman settles in beside her, though she flinches at feeling something on her knee. She blinks, realizing who it was. She tries to smile at the little one, though her lips do nothing more than twitch. A bare hand does lethargically reach forward, reaching past the valiant defense of the pink swordsman and pat her on the head, as per usual.

She glances to both of the newcomers, her bringing her knees to her chest again and hugging them with an arm. There was a hint of relief at seeing Culix. She did drop the goblin off to get seen to, as herself.

She slowly shakes her head at Seldan's question, jabbing a thumb towards Culix's response, substituting that one for her own.

"We're all at a bad time," she motions slowly, staring at the tip of the wooden sword. <Handspeech>

"Seldan, peace on your nest. Yours also, Culix." Cryo says, the energy in her voice muted. She's aware she can be big and loud, always the performer on stage, she's restraining herself now. She gazes quietly at Aryia, takes a long inhale, her mouth working a little. Her attention flicks to her youngling, always watching, then back to Aryia.

Little Fang signs, "You safe. Me here." She's not teasing Aryia about her voice today. <Handspeech>

Cryo smiles carefully, "Lily insisted I get her armoured today. So she could protect me. She hasn't shown an interest in swords before but I guess has been impressed with the Knights at the Chapterhouse. That's Faran's practice sword. The one her father gave her when she was young. She gifted it to us."

The whitescale watches all around, "She's seen how worried I've been, about things." She looks over at Culix, "Could you tell us what happened to you, then... Seldan? Might explain what happened. This one is still unclear on some details."

Cryo looks at Aryia again, her tailtip slowly flicking back and forth. She says nothing else for the moment.

"And on yours." Seldan takes the refusal from both of them in stride, with a small smile brimming with understanding and sympathy. "Take good care of that sword, little one," he tells Lily. "Learn to use it as it deserves, for the one from whom it first came no longer can." The smile fades at that, and his brow furrows into a momentarily troubled look.

"If this is not the first time ... then, I would hear all that may be said. And ... I would offer an apology." He turns his gaze to Aryia. "It is in my mind that I have unduly frightened you, and such was not my intent."

Culix nods her head a bit at Aryia then, "Heard it was you dragged my sorry ass to the temple. And here I thought it'd be me pulling you out of the flames." she grumbles a bit. "Nailed the bastard who tried to nab you though." she says, and draws her thumb across her throat. "Then got got from behind, which is about the way of things." she sighs.

Since folks are asking for a proper account, she shrugs, "Some old associates decided to try getting clever on the docks, set off a bomb and tried to stick me and kidnap her." She dips her head at Aryia. "Was hoping to have a chat with 'em when it was done, but I was in no position to and the guard got ahold of them 'fore I came to. Not that that'll do them any good. They won't say shit to Alexandria's Finest, they'll just end up rotting in the clink." she says and shakes her head a bit.

"As for the rest of it, I wasn't there- but seems like it weren't pretty." she says then.

Aryia gives a small nod, looking idly over Lily's battle ready attire. She gives a small motion of her hand towards Lily, "Thank you." The shadow elf wasn't sure if she could take any teasing right now. <Handspeech>

She glances up at Seldan, falling short of meeting his gaze. Aryia hugs herself a bit tighter, looking off to her left. She didn't know who of the adults could understand her, but she had no desire to uncurl herself to write. "Is... it always like that?" she slowly signs towards Seldan. "... I felt like one wrong step and I was going to die." <Handspeech>

She rubs at her throat as the goblin makes the motion. "You're welcome, and thanks" she signs in one motion towards Culix.

The Mul looks up at Cryo, the whitescale able to make out the slight quiver of her lip and a film over her eyes. She sniffs, picking up the blood caked cestus and getting it out of the way between them- and out of sight from Lily.

Cryosanthia blinks. Her eyelid scales are the palest shades of blue, like makeup in contrast to her brilliant white. She watches Culix, listening, a slight cant of her ear-fins forward and wider. Still, except for her twitching tailtip, which halts, then starts up again. She curls her tail around her thigh, holding the tip with both hands in her lap, stilling the movements. "This one apologizes. This one would offer aid, but I'm stretched too thin, and do not want to get involved. It sounds like there are unsavory aspects, and I can't. Not with everything. This one can recommend some good people."

Her voice is very formal, "This one hopes you understand." Her tone switches to something closer to her usual cheerfulness, "Sounds crazy. Bombs and fire and people to interrogate after. The docks are having a rough time. Good that Aryia was there. Sometimes you save your friends, sometimes they save you."

Cryo looks up at Seldan, tilts her head to the side, "Maybe I'll manage to save you one day."

And Little Fang, the Kobold Knight for a Day, marches in a small circle around everyone, sword held up and ready.

The icy Sith meets Aryia's gaze when she looks at her. Sapphire eyes, with slit pupils, looking like gems and almost as alien. Slight twitches, she sees the quiver, the film, how unkempt and dirty she is. Understanding what all those signs mean, and must mean on someone so heavily scarred. Her voice is careful and soft, "Let me clean you, Aryia. I can do it without touching. I've had to do it often for myself. Please. It will make you feel a little better."

She hisses quietly at her youngling, "Little Fang, tell Ssassa what she signed. This one does not understand." <draconic>

"This one apologizes Aryia. All I got was 'die' or 'death'."

"Most crazy indeed. I had heard naught of some of this." Some of Seldan's smile drifts back in, but as Aryia starts to sign, he holds up a hand. "I do not understand the signs. Will you permit me to cast a spell, that I might understand you?" He moves a few steps closer, continuing to respect her personal space, and drops to one knee, the better to be on her and Culix's level. Looming isn't the way to make friends, after all.

Culix winces at Aryia's reaction to her gesture, and she self consciously stuffs her hands into her pockets before she does anything else insensitive with theem. She doesn't show any signs of understanding Aryia's handspeech, but something Cryosanthia says seems to surprise the goblin- she looks to the whitescale after she mentions friends, momentarily confused, and then she shrugs, "Uh, yeah, I guess." she mutters, a shade awkwardly.

As they continue talking a bit around what actually happened, Culix seems to realize something. "Wait, don't tell me you were all involved in that huge firefight down by the river?" she asks then, incredulous.

Aryia squeezes her knees. "W-sh -t -sn't s- -d t- f-k-g t-k," she mumbles to herself after getting a various yet unanimous 'what?' from everyone. Her gaze drops a bit on Cryo, looking at the space in front of her. She bites her lip, plated fingers gripping onto her soaked pant leg. After a moment too long, she slowly nods at Cryo's offer, prying herself out of a ball and nervously running a fingernail across the wood of the bench.

That which turns into a shaky thumbs up at Seldan, giving him permission and nodding at Culix's observation.

"This one apologizes for not knowing how to communicate properly with you." Cryosanthia says, turning and rolling up on one hip. She moves both her hands through elegant motions, fingers making intricate gestures. Unusually, her scales don't light up, only the white gloves she wears. Made of scaled leather that blend with her own, except at times like these where patterns in them glow faintly.

She makes wiping motions at Aryia, starting at her head and working down. Her hands staying always six inches away, as if she was well practiced at this with someone who didn't want to be touched. A warm sensation washes over the Mul'niessa, cleaning clothes and body, the blood from her cestus. Her eyes. It's gentle and refreshing, and once the whitescale has worked all the way down to her toes, she spends some more time on Aryia's hair, brushing it out and letting it fall against the tops of her shoulders.

Lily comes around on her patrol doing this, and hisses some things in her Ssassa's ear, which Cryo nods to. She grins at her youngling, "You are keeping us safe."

"This one was there, Culix." The whitescale explains, "With Lily. We left immediately. Something ... devils, were after Merek. Aryia ran into them before at the Temple of Serriel, and Cesran had been present at that, and explained to us their types. So, I knew... it might not be safe around him, and it wasn't."

She pauses in stroking Aryia's hair. Hair is something Sith'Makar never have to deal with, yet she seems quite experienced. "Seldan... Seldan handled it. He has a blade... this one will let him tell his side."

This time, the casting of what sounds like the exact same spell Seldan used yesterday looks very different. He removes his gauntlets and sets them aside on the cobblestoned walk with a quiet clink of metal, revealing a bandage wrapped around his right forearm that bears the symbol of Daeus and a few others. It is carefully constructed, and he pays it no mind, instead focusing on the casting. This time, instead of the scroll, he uses a different, broader set of gestures, and the ring on his left hand glows moonlit in response, reflecting off of a plain band that looks like a wedding band on the next finger over. When it fades, he looks up.

"Even so," he tells Culix first. "The fire was of my making, for we were well outnumbered and in a tactically dangerous position. I wished to swiftly summon aid."

He looks down, his cheeks coloring a little. "Would you please repeat what you said? I think it was a question, and I would answer it, if it was."

Culix shakes her head a bit, "Thought them uh- who was it, few years back? Merkabah? Thought they was attacking again." Culix says then, hands still stuffed in her pockets. "Course I was just a girl back then." she says. "But that Merek guy, heard his name a few times recently. Starting to think he's probably cursed, or else just a fan of pissing off the wrong sort of people. Not that I can talk on that account." she adds. "Either way, sounds like if I see him I best walk a mile in the other direction."

Slowly, the Mul is cleansed from the ongoings of yesterday, wiping away the evidence that anything happened at all. Some moon colored hair caught, untangled, and fell out, never having been properly brushed in... who knows how long. She twitches and flinches, not used to having someone take care of her, instead she busies herself with answering Seldan. "Is it always like that? I felt like one wrong step and I was going to die. Not just from your magic but with everything," she repeats, adding on a little bit more. <Handspeech>

The film didn't stay gone for long, but she closes her eyes and lets Cryo work. Trying to find some comfort in it, though the conversation still keeping her from fully relaxing.

"Here, this one can warm you up a little also." A mildly unusual offer from a snow sith that always has cooler air about her. However, a few finger-flicks and her gloves radiate warmth. A dry heat that is warm without being overpowering. Cryo warms Aryia's hands and feet, then more of her core, and then stops. All without coming any closer than initially. "The rain will wet you again, but that can't be helped."

Lily takes off her Oil-cloak and rests it on the Mul'niessa's shoulders. The carnation scaled youngling has gotten bigger, eating well and growing, but her cloak is absurdly small on Aryia. "Me water not." <Handspeech>

"This one would not speak badly of Merek..." Cryo's scents shift. She's holding her tailtip again. Tightly. "He's... important to Braelnoir. Was a friend. Is a friend. He's suffered greatly and has become... dangerous to be around. I think he's turning into a Black Dragon. He's been through things that would break any mind, and... I suspect they have. He was not well before he was taken to the Iron Hells."

She's staring at the ground. Lily has come over and is tapping her sword on one of her horns. Cryosanthia doesn't appear to notice. "This one is inclined to run when seeing him now, also. Would not blame you."

Her head turns, she stares at Aryia, "it is often like that. I've been in so many battles I didn't know what was going on and couldn't win."

"It is not always so, though at times it can be," Seldan agrees. "At times is it nothing more threatening than drunken otyughs, at others -" he trails off and lets that be, his sober expression holding sympathy. The rain patters on the gauntlets he'd set on the pavement, one seeming to match the suit, the other a good bit more ornamented, and on the hood that he has left up. Someone is much more prepared for the rain this time. "It may aid you to focus not on the peril one faces, but on what must be done, to overcome it. It is easy to find oneself lost in fear, but one who acts may break the hold that fear has over him."

He watches Cryosanthia stroking her hair after cleaning her up. "Too are some things less threatening than they wish to seem. Some are more so, and it cannot be told at first glance which is which. You did well, in breaking the fey woman's nose, for in so doing did you stop her from casting more of those mind spells."

"As for Merek," he goes on, looking up, "such has been in my mind as well. He raved of destroying the gods ere he ever was taken to the Iron Hells, and he has suffered much since. I would not abandon him, so long as Eluna turns Her face towards him, and yet am I wary both of his power and his mind. It may be that abandoning him would snap the final strand, and I would not see a mage of that power unleashed upon Alexandria entirely insane."

Culix retrieves her hand from her pocket and scratches her cheek a bit as they go on, clearly feeling a little out of place, not having been through such a harrowing experience herself. So that she is almost relieved when Merek's name comes up again. She listens to what the two of them have to say on it, and then shrugs her shoulders, "Sounds to me like a problem waiting to happen, one way or another. Or a problem already happening. If it's all the same to you, I think I'll give him a wide berth."

Aryia shivers as warmth washes over her, hand ceasing its nervous ticks to hold onto the much too small cloak. It was enough to pull over her shoulders and trap a mote of that warmth in. Her lips move in a "Thank you" to the two scaled kin.

Her nose wrinkles from the smell. Not thinking too much about Merek at the moment. He saved Seyardu. He had to have some good in him, maybe. Maybe.

She cracks her eyes open to level them at Seldan's feet. Holding onto the gifted cloak with her bare hand. The elf hazards a breath, and it comes out a shudder.

"How?" Aryia signs with a tremor. "How am I supposed to do that? How am I. ME. How am I supposed to do any of that? I can't do what you do. Or Merek. Or B-R-A-E. S-E-Y-A-R-D-U was dropped in a snap. My mind got scrambled before I could figure out what was going on." <Handspeech>

The movements grow more sweeping, more sharp. Breaths come fast, and a wheezing sound catches at the back of her throat at each one.

"Where's the line, Cryo?" she looks up at the whitescale, fresh salt on cleaned cheeks. The movements make the cloak fall to her lap. "I've got one foot over each side, and I can't tell where it fucking starts. It feels like I'm going to either die before being something, or die being nothing. Where's the line, Cryo?!" <Handspeech>

"I had not considered that, Seldan. He will not improve if his friends abandon him." Cryosanthia says, adjusting the spell on her gloves once she deems Aryia sufficiently warm, returning to the cleaning and hair brushing. Again with more skill than one would expect of a scaled person with at best, keratin embellishments. "Do you want some small braids Aryia? Faran taught me a few styles."

The whitescale is a little behind, waiting on the translation. She returns to answering Seldan, "I tried talking with him, explaining he doesn't need to throw himself at everything. Especially when it makes it worse sometimes. Like at the Death Orb, when he was so confident he knew what he was doing, after I and Cesran said be careful, and then he ended up bleeding everywhere."

Aryia's increasingly larger signs snatch her attention. She stares at them. Her lips are moving as she's silently voicing what she suspects some are. "Lily, what is she saying? Tell me quickly."

"Aryia." Cryosanthia says, fixing her with a solid stare, and she can stare. Being reptilian, she blinks more for convenience and sleep than any need. Sapphire gems are locked to milky white ones. Pearls. Perhaps moonstones. "Breathe. In. Out. You are safe, right now. Lily is translating."

And she is, standing on Cryo's thigh so she can more easily hiss in her ear. Cryosanthia nods, nods again."

"I think you're across the line now, Aryia." Her eyes close for a moment, and stay closed. The whitescale's head lowered, "I've... been... had... still might have, my mind controlled by others. I was and may still be dangerous to be around. Braelnoir too, there's one targeting her with charms. We've both been powerless, confused, scared. This one still is. This one wants a normal life, nest, eggs, mate, it's been taken from me. I've destroyed it all."

The whitescale takes her own advice, breathing slowly in, then out, "Sometimes, you're not saving yourself. That's the line. When you're trying to protect others, do something, even if you don't think it will work. When you want to hide but don't want to hide."

"This one is sorry, that may not make a lot of sense." Her eyes remain closed.

Seldan grows very still, watching both the words and the increasingly agitated signs. He nods at Cryosanthia's explanation without verbal answer, that stray lock of hair falling between his eyes as he listens. One hand absently smooths the lock back beneath his hood as he thinks. "I, too, have stood where you are," he murmurs sympathetically, leaning his elbow on his upraised knee. "May I tell you a tale, of the first Guild job I ever took?"

He looks briefly over to Culix, and nods. "I cannot fault you for the choice, and were I less concerned for the consequences, I might well do the same. Once have I nearly drawn on him, in my anger."

Culix glances between the three of them, and she stuffs her hands back in her pockets, "Not really sure, but I think I get the gist of what you all are talking about..." she says then, and looks to Aryia. "Guess it comes down to, aint no one saying you have to be a hero. I'm not sticking my neck out for anyone..." she says, her actions on the waterfront a few days past apparently notwithstanding. "You just gotts do what you gotta do to survive. If that's busting heads, that's busting heads. If that's running away, that's running away. That's all there is to it. Gets complicated, I guess, if there's folks you don't want to leave behind." she admits with a one-shoulder shrug.

"Way I see it, though. If I wasn't doing guild work, I'd be picking pockets and robbing houses, and I'd end up back in the joint or with a knife in my back. Still might, second one in particular, but 'least there's a couple of folks might fight my corner now." She says. "Never used to be. Thought there was, and they showed their colors. I reckon you've already shown me yours, and I could count on you to watch my back without sticking me in it. Don't reckon I can say that about many folks." she offers.

After a few moments of quiet thought, Seldan's comment gets her attention and she answers him, "Probably should've. Sooner or later a loaded crossbow left alone'll shoot or break, and I wouldn't want to be there for either."

Aryia didn't get the chance to answer if she wanted braids or not, the question lost in her increasing fervor. She holds her breath, cheeks puffed out, scars bowing before shakily following instructions. Out. "- tr-ng." In. Out. "- tr-ng..."

She fidgets with the remaining cestus, removing buckles and straps- In. Out.- before it joins the other one with a clatter.

She looks to Cryosanthia. In. Out. Listening. Hand twitches.

She slowly swivels to Seldan. In. Out. Eyes well. Slightest nod.

Down to Culix. In. Out? "-... t-st ...-? -... - d-t -t t- s-v-v-. - -t t- -v-."

Rumble of thunder. Her head falls into her hands, shoulders shiver and heave. And she tips over only to collapse against Cryo's side and stay there.

Cryosanthia listens, eyes open and watching Culix, then confirming, "that is the gist of it. I've started to pick and choose. There's big evil, and there's little evil. There will always be bandits. There won't always be an Asumit, or Kol. This one has her life full with the big evils only now, and there are still too many."

When Aryia collapses against her side, Cryosanthia relents in maintaining her distance. She doesn't know the Mul'niessa well, her arms hover for a moment. She makes a choice and eases Aryia into her lap, holds her. The whitescale is not warm, yet not so cold her presence is unpleasant. She's solid, scaled, armoured. She's not a mountain, but she can be a tower. A vibration starts in her throat, a rumble not unlike a feline purr. A soothing noise, one she's used often.

She says nothing and holds Aryia, singing comfort at her, and nods to Seldan. Tell the story.

Seldan is very still, his eyes dark with compassion at Aryia's reaction, but he remains where he is, his eyes lowering. "There is ... too much. Some evils are yet greater than any of us, and yet do we face those evils that we may, that the learning make us able to face those that are now beyond us."

He rests his hands on his upturned knee, and turns his attention back to Aryia. "I was but new-come to Alexandria, having only just taken my vows and fled my father's wrath." A tidbit that Cryosanthia may not have known. "We were sent to Tashraan, to aid one of the merchant clans and their friend, a dragon, in removing a coven of night hags from the Felwood. I will confess to you now that I had never seen a dragon before in my life, and I feared that one wrong word would spell my doom, so I dared say absolutely nothing.

"We needed not defeat them, only break their power, and that meant drawing them apart, separating them. None among us had the power to hope to face a night hag coven in their full power. Being given to Eluna, and new, I was deemed a thing desirable to them. So did I become the lynchpin of the strategy, to attempt to draw a hag to me and make myself seem appealing, that she might abandon the others to have me."

"It worked, in the end, although I was bitten and infected with demon fever, and likely would have perished were it not for the witch Alba." His expression is impassive, but he can't entirely hide the shudder that ripples through him.

Culix looks away for a moment once her gaze is met glancing at the floor, not comfortable with being the center of attention, but she makes hersself look back to meet Aryia's gaze again, and she nods her head. "Yeah, I think I do trust you." she says then- and that seems a phrase she is even less comfortable with. At the next bit, she tilts her head a bit, her eartips twitch slightly, "Yeah... living is the hard part. But I reckon you're doing pretty decent at it."

She takes a deep breath, and then blows out a sigh. "I was surviving when I was locked up. Roof over my head, pot to piss in, couple meals a day. Wasn't living, though." she says. "You was surviving wherever you got them scars, wasn't living, though." she says to her.

She takes a couple of steps closer, "But now? I'm picking my scraps, which ones I stick with. Which ones I run from. You're doing the same. That's living. Deciding for yourself what you do with your survival. Sure, it's no less dangerous. Hells, it's probably more dangerous. But its on your terms, right? You could hang up them dusters and get a cushy job at an inn or something, no problem, in this sort of city. But would that be living, either?" she wonders.

"Had my doubts about this explorers guild stuff. Seemed like a lot of work, thought about moving somewhere the guards don't know my face and going back to thieving. But I give it a shot. Someone give me the push. And it bit me, now it's in my blood I reckon. And I reckon you're the same, there, an' all." she finally says.

Aryia puts up no fight, the small Mul a surprisingly dense folk to maneuver about. She curls in, crying- yet again- against the sith-makar, each breath a strange hissing, throatal flanging wheeze. It takes a solid minute for her to pull herself together before her breath events out, and she stills.

One of her long ears twitch as Seldan starts sharing his story. Halfway through, she cracks an eye open, face a mess while she looks at the holy man. "... I've never met a dragon either..." she signs, small. <Handspeech>

It felt like granite pushing against stone as her eye slides to Culix, but she gives a little nod. She wasn't alone in this, at the very least. Something she's never really had before. It's quiet. Aside from Cryo's soothing humming.

"...t-k -. -... f- - -t b-tt-. G-d - d-t -ve t- d- th-s -s-f. - j-st -fr-d. Sc-d. - - j-st g-t -t -f Ch-, f-s -ke. - d-t -nt -t t- - s- s-n." She coughs, having whispered a bit too much.

She closes her eyes, resting against Cryo.

"That's a good strategy and tough to take that risk, Seldan." Cryo says, blinking at a new detail from the Silverguard's life. Her head perks up at the mention of dragons. She's clearly interested in this. Her toes tighten against the ground.

She laughs a little, a lurch of her body that shifts Aryia, not in any uncomfortable way. It's odd to hear and feel it at the same time. Her hum continues unabated, something she can do while speaking and laughing it seems.

Her head nods as she carefully reassembles Aryia's broken words. The whitescale concentrates on her breathing. Lily comes closer, resting a small hand on the Mul'niessa. "This one was taken by Charn. This one escaped. This one swore she'd never go back."

"A lot of bad things happened to me in Charn, when I was captured and when I went back. My friends saved me." Cryo's humming increases, "Your scars tell a story, that you've seen worse things in Charn than this one. What you feel is valid. All I can say is endure, and you'll grow stronger."

"Even so. None do this alone, and those who try seldom live to tell the tale." Seldan nods his agreement, seeming to have picked up some of the woman's meaning as well. "You have suffered much, and you need not leave. That you are here says that you have what is needful inside you." His eyes lower, the look boyish. "Each time I have thought to stand alone, that I could ask none other or none other would aid me ... I have paid a dear price for doing so. There is no shame in fear, for only a fool knows no fear. Even I am not without fear. I but know that She stands by me, and so shall I stand by others."

Culix reaches up to scratch her cheek again as the others talk, and then she says, "Listen. You'd have to have something seriously wrong with your head if you wasn't scared." she says then. "When I saw that head in the box, I thought I'd seen a ghost. I was so shook up knowing the syndicate had eyes on me I didn't even think about checking to see if it the box was booby trapped." she says then. "If I had, maybe we wouldn't have got so beat up. Everyone with an ounce of humanity rightly feels fear." she says then.

"Guess what I'm saying is, it's fine to feel fear, but feeling it and letting it hold you down is different. Like I was saying, you're free now. You got folks who'll fight your corner if you need it. It's alright for you to live." she offers.

She rolls her shoulder a bit and winces, "But... I don't reckon standing out in the rain is doing my injuries any good. I'm going to need to go find somewhere warm and dry to sit down before I fall down. And listen..." a brief, furtive glance, is spared the Paladin before she steps closer. "If... things are a bit too much, you ever need to just fall off the map for a little while to catch your breath, I know folks. Safe houses, can make that happen for you." she offers Aryia in a low whisper.

The mul, slowly, gets herself up to a sitting position. Yet she doesn't peel herself off Cryo just yet. Practically a sponge and soaking up affection for the moment. Aryia sniffles, wiping her eyes and nose with the back of her hand. In any other circumstance, she'd probably deck someone being like this. But an exception is made, just this once.

"D-t -t t- g- b-ck t- Ch-..." Aryia shakes her head. Disgusted at the notion of even considering returning there. "-b- s-d- c- t- y- -b-t th-..."

She rubs her boot against her leg, nodding. "I should get used to that. Not being alone. Have been for a very, very long time," she motions slowy. <Handspeech>

"... -s. C-ix. - -s -fr-d t- g-t c-ght -g-in..." she nods. Aryia's face relaxes more, very, very thankfully at the offer. She bobs her head a few times, keeping that in mind. And actually cracks a small, if teary eyed, smile.

"They were after me too." Cryosanthia says. Her voice is soft, her scales, her body, so hard. She's calm, cool, a confidence and power within her that belies her admissions of fear and weakness. She hides it well, and found a way to be strong. "This one was afraid wizards would grab her. Appearing out of nowhere, to take me back."

She laughs, and it is a truly amused sound, no bitterness in it. Her throaty rumble continues, deep, consistent, soothing. "This one jumped out of so many windows. Aya used to appear to see what I'd do?"

"Tia Aay-aayss? Fernwood?" Lily leans around, chirping, "Ssassa's nemississ?"

"Yes Lily, she was Ssassa's also." Cryo headbobs at her youngling. She exhales carefully, "It took a long time... and a big Mistake, before I stopped being afraid of mages."

Caught amid multiple people who had all apparently been hunted but him, Seldan fades off into silence, listening to the others, withdrawing into his own reserve. His eyes lower, in the way of one uncertain of what to say. He does look up at Culix, his gaze resting on her for a breath before he nods. "Yes, you should seek shelter if you are injured." That is all the more words he affords, his shoulders hunching a little.

Culix returns Aryia's smile with one of her own, full of pointy pointy teeth. "Alright, then." she agrees with a nod of her head. "Me too. And seems like I've got some work to do on that front." she adds after a moment, her expression darkening a touch. "But, for now, I'm going to get out of the rain. You should, too." she says to Aryia, before taking a couple of steps back. "Take care, alright?" she offers, before lifting a hand to offer a wave, and taking her leave.

She gives a small sigh, nodding along and looking slightly amused at the thought of Cryo defenestrating. Aya. She knew Aya now.

Finally, Aryia pulls up to a full sit, her stretching and picking up her cestus gloves to set them on her lap. She waves goodbye to Culix before picking up the gifted cloak and settling it back over her shoulders. "Maybe, in time. I won't be afraid of mages. But things like yesterday make it hard. Not just you, Seldan. I mean overall." <Handspeech>

"Thank you. Both of you. You all helped a lot. I... I just couldn't be there anymore yesterday. I had to get away. Though maybe, one day, I can be the one running in to help one of you." She gives a weak smile, doing her best to not sprial back down again. Though she was doing much, much better than a few tens of minutes ago. <Handspeech>

"Peace on your nest, Culix," Cryosanthia says to the departing goblin. Lily echoes her, "Peasss on your kneeesta." Close enough.

"I didn't know you still feel fear, Seldan." The whitescale says randomly, sounding thoughtful. "I thought that was your missing piece."

Cryo holds onto Aryia, staring off, concentrating on nothing in particular for the moment. Her clothes vanish. Not all of them, she still has her chain shirt, corset, gloves and boots. As well as a pair of sleeves that go from elbow to wrist. The sleeve is what she wants to show off Aryia. "You should get these."

"Merek made them. They can turn into any clothes I imagine. They were the only thing I had to wear when I went with Salina. I would look at his mark, to remind me I still had friends. They were a great comfort, and while the clothes rip and get bloody, you can imagine them clean and then they are. It's helped me, feel in control of something."

The whitescale watches Aryia's handsigns. They seem a lot calmer, and there's a lot more of them. She glances to the side. "Lily?" There is much hissy whispers. Hisspers perhaps, then Cryo responds, "I know. I understand. I felt bad leaving, but I can't save everyone. I realize that. It sounds like you did amazing. Punching the enchantress' nose. Focus on the wins."

"I know fear. I but know that She is greater than fear, and so do I cast it aside. It is not absent, merely cast aside." Seldan's answering smile is at once warm, and a little secretive, with more than a trace of relief in it. "You did rightly to flee, Cryosanthia. I would not have had the little one caught up in such, and we did well enough." He sighs, and shifts from his kneeling position to sit on the ground, as best the armor will let him.

"Know this, Aryia." He rests a bare hand on an upturned, armored knee. "Magic is but a tool, on its own, nothing more. It is as fire, or a sword. It may free a man from chains, or slay him before his children. The difference lies but in the intent of he who wilds that magic. It is true that I am born with magic, but more importantly, I have taken the vows of the Silver Guard as well. I am forbidden to use my magic for selfish or evil ends, and there are some magics of which I simply do not wish knowledge, because nothing good can come from their use. Do you find yourself fearing me, remember that."

Aryia stays in the hold for a bit longer, her eventually shoring up her vulnerabilities and peeling away. She flinches from the show of magic out of reflex, but gives a small smile. "Okay. I can try and find something like that, that is a good idea. I don't know what I'd wear though." <Handspeech>

With a silent grunt, she stands with cestus in hand, looking down towards the kneeling Seldan for a change. Listening carefully. "- -ght," she nods, hissing her words, looking pensive. "However, there's a reason why I don't like weapons. And if magic is a weapon, that just gives me more reason. I'll.. keep your words in mind. Both of you. Well, Culix too, but they left. I... Um Thanks. Bye.." <Handspeech>

She gives a thumbs up to the both of them before putting Lily's cloak back on her shoulders. Aryia closes her eyes, cycles a breath, and nods to herself. Right. She looks to the ground and draws a line with her boot.

The elf gulps. Walks over it, and into the night.

The whitescale waves as the Mul'niessa walks off. Watches her draw a line. Step over it. The significance does not escape her. She doesn't comment.

"Up, my little knight." Cryo tells Lily, holding her arm out so she can climb up to her Sith'mom's shoulders. The pinkscale settles in on the haversack. The whitescale concentrates, and the sleeves turn back into her swashbuckling clothes, with oilcloak, complete with an extra large hood that her Kobold youngling can shelter in.

Which she doesn't, leaning out past Cryo's neck so she can wave her sword around in salutes and good byes.

Cryosanthia dips her head. "Thank you for understanding Seldan. She will be my first priority, always. I will..." The rest goes unsaid.

She was quiet, as Seldan describes magic, how it is used, his vows. There is nothing to contest. Her knowledge includes some of those other magics, the evil, selfish ones. Exposure she was not always willing to receive. Not always, but sometimes. Enough times to make her doubt her compass.

"We should talk about things. Soon." She says, standing. She looks at the Silverguard, another one of her largely motionless stares where her age comes through, and the lingering body language of Salina, even if the edges have melted some. It's something in how she stands. "I must get this one to bed. I mean me. Lily is going to be up parading half the night. She ate all the sweets Seyardu gave me. Once again, thank you, for protecting them."

"You are welcome." Seldan looks up and after the mul'niessa, still frowning, his brows creased in thought, but the address startles him from whatever thought had been his. "So we should. There is much to be said." He reaches for his gauntlets and replaces them, standing in his turn. "For now, I should return. Her light upon your path."

"Peace on your Nest. Say hello to Malik for me." Cryo says, dipping her snout. "Peasss." Lily adds. Cryo turns and heads away. Wary, always watching around. When she's some distance away, in the darkness and rain, certain they are unobserved she says, "Greenscales Lily," and touches beside her eyes.

And two greenscales walk away.