Anyway the Wind Blows
Log Info
- Title: Anyway the Wind Blows
- Emitter: Ashes
- Characters: Ashes, Morgan, Braelnoir, Seyardu, Aryia, Ravenstongue, Stjepan, Jinks
- Place: A07: Fernwood Pub
- Time: Monday, November 15, 2021, 6:26 PM, Monday, November 15, 2021, 9:07 PM
- Summary: Ashes goes to the Fernwood to visit with Braelnoir. There, she encounters Morgan, whom she plans to ask some Fey related questions. Ravenstongue's situation with Owls and Ravens is explained, as Seyardu and Aryia arrive. A few solutions are proposed, largley cold-iron related, and Ravenstongue arrives and is able to discuss her needs. The Mourner attempts to socialize, but is still uncomfortable with large groups of strangers and focuses on feeding her familiars and Pothy, much to the albino raven's delight. Braelnoir's missing earring is noted, and discussed, with the silver-haired merc revealing it is with her sister for promise-keeping. Stjepan arrives, then Jinks, prompting Stjepan to depart, as the gnome has brought a date and seems intent to get down to business in the tavern main. A jotun bouncer moves to move him, only to be charmed away, drawing criticism from Seyardu. Aryia pays for damages caused by experimenting with her new powers, and tells the silverscale she's leaving the Fernwood. The Ashwing's appearance there has made her doubt the safety of the place. Doubts that would only get worse if she knew more of its history. Jinks shows off his language skills, and there was a pun there but it's too easy, and everyone departs.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-<* 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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-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Appearing, in Order =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Ashes 5'11" 177 Lb Hobgoblin Female A somber arvec in grey clothes with a skull face. Morgan 4'10" 79 Lb Half-Elf Female Short pixy like half elf with fair skin Braelnoir 5'11" 146 Lb Human Female A tall, pale Acanian woman, branded in silver. Seyardu 5'6" 150 Lb Sith-Makar Female A friendly silver sith-makar with a perpetual squint. Aryia 4'8" 110 Lb Shadow Elf Female A heavily scarred mul with a resolved look about her. Ravenstongue 5'0" 99 Lb Half-Elf Female Short half-elf girl with violet eyes and black hair. Stjepan 8'0" 534 Lb Giantborn Male Big, blonde jotun. Jinks 3'4" 39 Lb Gnome Male A gnomish fellow in fancy garb and jewelry. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
It's a grey day, with icy rain falling unrelentingly from grey-black clouds, chilled by a howling northeasterly wind.
The kind of wind that blows scraps of cloth around. It also blows a tattered looking Mourner into the Fernwood. Tall, a grim hobgoblin in greys, Ashes seems to have a stature smaller than she is. She fades into the shadows despite her breastplate armour and cavalry boots. Lurking around the edges of the room, she glances upstairs.
Morgan walks in the area like the cold is not bothering her at all even though she is not dressed that heavily. She takes a beeline to a seat at a empty table to where she takes out a small book.
With the particular sounds of flexing armour joining heeled bootfall, someone upstairs emerges from their room. To, and ultimately, down the stairs the figure, a particular woman, makes her way, coming into view as the structure allows.
While seeming reasonably rested and largely undamaged, there is something slightly off about her presentation as the Korite turns a hearty, "Hey all!" to the room at large.
She brightens some as she notes the presence of, "Morg!" and, "Ash!" before remarking on, "Been a bit, luvs, 'cha been about?" as she starts to stride toward a point that would make a relatively convenient convergence point between them, lips parted in her usual grin.
"I was wanted for helping an escaped Murderess." Ashlee explains, glancing around the Fernwood. She still hasn't found all the wanted posters. A few other things happened to her as well. She stares in her usual, mildly gloomy way.
"It's okay now. I need to se the guard later."
She drifts over towards Morgan and Braelnoir, "Hi. I also need help with a Fey."
Morgan grins and gives a smile "hello my luv." said with a blown kiss. When Ash talks about the Fae "I am part Fae and the local lore master maybe I can help you?" said as she nods to the server giving the look of do you want the same old meal.
Braelnoir ventures closer, reaching out an arm to either of the ladies, though, the greeting of her luv gets Morgan a quick, vigorous smooch before she turns back to Ashes, "That thing we's talkin' about before, yeah.." she observes.
A look between the two, then to the half-sil, "Hey, Kae, Steak, seared, bloody's hell, an' a green hornet spiked with some fireball whiskey, if ya would?"
GAME: Ashes rolls perception: (3)+4: 7 GAME: Morgan rolls perception: (16)+17: 33
"Okay!" Kaeryn bounces into the back to get the orders.
Ashes slips into the embrace of the silver-haired merc and stiffly returns it. After which she steps back and remains standing. "He's called the Feathered One. He likes getting first-borns." Which outlines the problem and her interest.
Morgan hmms as she goes arms deep in to her haversack and gets a book out "Oh the Feathered One, I heard about him only twice. One he only shows up to court when he needs something or is being called for something. But to be honest I don't blame him." she opens up a few pages and gets a badly drawn picture of a man "And I once herd a rumor he might have a child with a Mortal..." she trails off a bit as she looks to Brae and that she does not have her earring "Brae your beautiful earrings where did they go."
There were less places to go of late, and the Fernwood had been becoming a more frequented haunt of the silver Cleric, as the location and people sje knew who stayed there made it an easy enough place to stop by.
The silver sith-makar was looking much better than prior, with only a hint of darkened brown, pale scales in a few places. While looking for a place to sit, she finds One person three people she recognizes, and steps over to them after a wave. "Peace on your nest, Braelnoir! And Morgan as well, Ashes, too? I take it you are all acquainted then, so it is good to meet again. How have you all been?" She asks curiously.
Braelnoir doesn't keep the hug on Ashes long as she reads the discomfort, but, she smiles to Kaeryn as she takes off, then turns back to the conversation as things get heavy.
Another fae, "This some new gawdanm mouser?"
'Mouser', by the sound of it, means a little more than a cat that handles rodents to the Merc.
She seems momentarily brought up short by the question about her earring and her left hand lifts to the absence on that side. She frowns a little, "Made a promise, luv... I... m'sister's holdin' onto it."
She seems more herself than the Silverscale had seen her, previously, but the glimmer of Seyardu catches her eye and the Merc raises a hand her way, "'ey luv, lookin' a lot better'n the last time I seen ya, how ya feelin?"
The ashen Arvec nods at the silverscale, answering simply, "Ok." Glancing at the small group she decides to have a seat. She pulls one over, sits, stares silently about the table.
As Morgan has called out the injury to Braelnoir's ear, she looks at it also. "It was important to you."
It looks like her request might need more details. "A minor noble. He's the father of Ravenstongue, and her father agreed to give his first-born to him. She's an adult and a sorceress now and doesn't want to go."
She glances at Braelnoir, "He chases her with crows and ravens."
Morgan nods as she seems to have a understanding what Brae says or trusts her and the sister. "Well if she is having problems get her a cold iron weapon and a lot of cold iron shavings for self defense. Or she can come to me for mentor-ship but I can not protect her all the time."
"Okay is better, and you are welcome in the city, so that is good at the very least." Seyardu sighs. "If there is anything that I can do to help do not hesitate to ask. It is, yes, there have been messengers from a fae, and they have led to Ravenstongue being able to get very little sleep."
She does not take a seat yet, and nods to Braelnoir. "I am feeling much better now, for certain, and looking relatively fine now. So things have been going well for myself at the moment, yes. And, you? I understand you have been working on many things of late."
"We need a safe way to summon or talk to him." Ashes says in monotone, "I'll tell her about cold iron filings."
Speak of the devil and he'll come... Except, well, the half-elf who walks through the door doesn't look like much of a devil. She pulls her hood down and pulls her long black braid back into place as she looks around and smiles the classic smile of recognition as she sees Ashes and Seyardu.
The white raven that's so often on her shoulder doesn't ride in that way this time around. He flaps his brilliant pale wings and descends onto her shoulder through the doors as they are still open, a large chunk of sausage in his beak. The thing is about half the size of his head, but he scarfs it down anyway. The half-elf rolls her violet eyes... Which, to Seyardu and Ashes, look a bit better than before. The sleep-deprived circles seem to be lightening. "Pothy, if you weren't thoroughly magical, I'd tell you to at least break down your food before you swallow," Ravenstongue says, before she approaches the table. "Good evening, everyone!"
"Still important t'me." Brae replies offhanded to Ashes, then looks between them as the talk continues, "It's... complicated."
She shrugs, then, and settles into a seat, "So... sh'wanna dust this fae'r find some loophole in the contract'r what?" she wonders before Seyardu regains her focus, "Been about here'n there. Plenty o'stuff keepin' me busy, tha's true, though. Glad yer don' better."
Morgan looks up to the new one that entered "Well hello to you to." said in elven as she switches back to common "sit and relax, looks like you could use a nice drink before you go to bed." She looks back to Brae "Fae contracts work different then normal ones. They are filled with many confsing phrases and so on. I find looking at ones with devls less tricky."
Ash's drink arrives. It's orange juice. She nods, gesturing at Braelnoir, Morgan, and then Ravenstongue. She leaves her hand indicating the half-elf, "She can answer the questions, she needs the help."
Looking directly at Ravenstongue, she adds, "Cold Iron filings might help."
Greenholmian Orange Juices, and bacon. For the familiars.
"Ah, good evening, Ravenstongue." The silver makari greets with a smile to the half-sil that enters before she takes a seat in a stool at the table. "We were just discussing the nature of what to do next partly, so it is most fortunate you have shown up for certain. Morgan here seems to have a good amount of knowledge that may be helpful on the matter."
"Well, please be more careful with scrolls in the future, Braelnoir. Verna was correct, it would likely pass in time, and a few more baths should fix the last of it. But, yes, things have been better for certain."
Braelnoir hrm's, nodding to Morgan's elaboratin with a thoughtful frown, "I normally ain't partial t'breakin' a contract, but it sounds like she weren't the one who made it."
This makes for a somewhat different creature to the Korite.
As the subject in question is pointed out by the Mourner, her wolfish eyes turn toward the woman and her bird and she gives a casual wave her way, "Hey, luvvie." She doesn't bring up the woman's business, especially since everyone else has that covered, but she can at least be neighborly.
Speaking of airing things out....
She colors a touch across the cheekbones as Seyardu mentions the unfortunate night of experimentation and she purses her lips a moment, "Time'll tell." she replies cryptically.
Morgan knows every thing and if she does not then it just happened.
Ravenstongue blinks a couple of times before she looks to Morgan. "Oh! You're Madame Morgan! I visit the market a lot to get food for Pothy and I hear things about you--all good things, of course!" she adds with a smile. "It's really nice to meet you."
"Snacks," Pothy the raven says, always needing to insert his beak into the conversation. He peers pointedly at Ravenstongue, who just wordlessly dips a hand into her pocket and comes up with some bits of trail mix for the bird to eat.
"Umm, so you were talking about, well, the situation, huh. I'm at least happy to report there's no more owls outside of my window at night, and I only saw one raven today. He flew off as soon as Pothy came flying straight at him!" Ravenstongue says with a snicker. She takes a seat at the table. "I feel a little better, at least, although I'm not wholly happy with everything, of course."
Ashes sits there quietly. She has some food, what appear to be crackers and small cuts of meat. She slips a hand into her worn satchel, leaves it there for a while and then rests her arms on the table.
A large house centipede emerges from the sleeve and goes over to the plate. The ashen Arvec squirms, adjusting her shoulders and wriggling. From her other sleeve a white lizard appears, followed by a mouse. All converge on the plate and start nibbling on things.
She pulls a morsel out and holds it out towards Pothy. In monotone she says, "Snacks."
Morgan smiles and says "Well I can give you some tips on warding off Fae. But my luv here is right." she lovingly motions to Brae "You should talk to him and see why your father wants you." She holds on to a mug that was given to her "I have a few contacts in the Seelie courts that can might be able to send a letter to him...." she trails off thinking of something that gives her a smile.
"Time will tell?" Seyardu asks, crossing her arms. "Braelnoir, this one saw what happened, you can not leave something such as that as something to see what will become of it in the future. But, so be it, I will just have to trust your judgement on the matter."
"That is good that they are leaving you alone for now, or at least enough to allow some manner of rest. While I would normally agree, this was more of a declaration of having them than wanting them, at least from what was heard. That being said, speaking to them in a safe location may not hurt matters."
Braelnoir snerks slightly and shrugs offhandedly, "Yeah... had that prob'm with crows a while back..." she observes dryly.
Her solution made druids' toenails curl, but she got a lot better with her crossbow until she finally drilled the right little bastard.
She doesn't go into that, though.
She looks toward the Mourner as her little friends come out to grub down and she notes, "Ain't got that snake yet, huh?" while the others continue to discuss the 'situation'.
The rejoinder from Seyardu brings her around, some and she frowns a little, "It ain't likely t'be a repeat performance if that's yer meaning."
"Not yet." Ashlee replies, watching her pets eat.
Pothy's blue eyes practically dilate the moment that the Mourner offers him that thing which is most precious of all things in whatever passes for Pothy's heart, if familiars have such things: snacks. Furthermore, a snack offered to him. He happily takes off from Ravenstongue's shoulder, snaps the morsel out of Ashlee's fingers with such precision that his beak never comes close to harming the Mourner, and returns to Ravenstongue's shoulder as he happily consumes the snack.
"Mmm, I agree--I want to talk to the Feathered One, at least, to learn /why/ he wants me, so maybe I'll take you up on that offer, Morgan?" Ravenstongue says. "All I know about the fae is from books. I was raised in Rune with my mother, no exposure to the fae at all--and, well, even that was a bit complicated. My past is sort of a mess, to put it lightly, and discovering I was apparently promised to one of the fae is kind of the tip of the iceberg."
Pothy quirks his head at the house centipede in a curious manner. One would imagine ravens would normally eat centipedes if it came down to it, but Ashlee's centipede is much too big...
Morgan shrugs "Most fae want you mostly for one reason. Like my grandmother wants me to help her with her magical studys, that and she wants me to settle down with a smart man and have more smart Wizard children." she downs her drink and then adds "If you want you can come with me to the mage guild or my house and I can do the spells needed to talk to my friends."
"If that is the case, then say time will tell?" The cleric asks, before she sighs and shakes he head. "That is confusing and leads to my being concerned."
Seyardu looks at the plate, and squints a bit more. "I did not realize there was more than the centipede from the other day."
Seyardu busies herself with a menu, instead of crossing her arms. "I can not say I have much experience with the fae myself. Aside from a few smaller types, nothing like the ones who would be sending messages like this."
"The message stated in the Felwood, but it does not have to be there. And if they may not be safe to speak to, speaking to it elsewhere, that may be best." Seyardu notes, squinting more at the menu.
Chippen raises up several front segments, and looks at Pothy. There is a waving of antennae, but no noise. He returns to nibbling the Mourner's food.
The Mourner herself seems content to listen quietly and stare. She doesn't blink often, and her skull-face tattoo is striking at first, and then becomes easy to ignore.
She picks up another piece of meat and holds it for Pothy to take.
"Because ya never know till it's all over, luv." Brae replies with a little shrug. She thanks the server as her food is brought up, and she starts to cut of the seasoned meat.
It's quite juicy.
She looks to Morgan as she invites the woman over and she stifles her amusement by taking a bite of her bloody steak.
Pothy's attention is driven away from Chippen by the offering of another snack. He croaks happily and flies again to take the tidbit, landing again close to Chippen to eat the morsel, as he seems to think that Ashlee offering him two snacks now means he will continue to get more. "How do ya do, pardner?" Pothy says as he looks at Chippen, mimicking a voice that sounds like it came from a big, burly man after a long day on the farm.
"Well, I hope whatever he wants, it's more like your grandma than some of the stories I've heard about some fae," Ravenstongue adds with a shiver as she addresses Morgan. "I'll about /what/ exactly I want to say some more. When I do decide, I'll impose on you for those spells then."
She turns to Seyardu. "I think that if he wants me so badly, he'll take a message from anywhere."
Morgan smirks as she looks to Brea and cuts up her own food "Well she can be so demanding, but the spell I will be casting will be a powerful one that takes time." she eats a piece of the chicken so she can then add "But as for what the Fae want is a bit strange to out right depraved or dangerous."
Braelnoir seems content to munch away as the conversation and nutritional bribery occur around her, withdrawing into her thoughts for the moment.
"Then-"
Seyardu sighs, and shakes her head. She was growing more confused and concerned with every response, so she turns to make an order for a meal with something picked out. "I hope it will be alright too. If they accept the message, then that is good, and if they do not, it likely will not hurt to try, yes? The raven you chased away, did it seem to be like the ones from the other day, or was it one that happened to be nearby?"
"The raven Pothy chased away was following me around like the flock usually did. It tried to fly a little closer, and well, Pothy doesn't like when they get too close, so he chased the raven off. Usually, the flock would only back off a bit and keep staring, but this one flew away. I guess it could have been an ordinary raven, but I normally don't have ravens following me around... despite the name, and, well, Pothy," Ravenstongue says. She sighs. "I should probably order something for myself and Pothy, too. Not fair to impose on you," she says to Ashlee.
"Snacks!" Pothy croaks happily, his head rocketing up from the plate of morsels as he mimics Ravenstongue's voice. He really did seem to have a one-track mind.
Morgan smiles as she watches the bird "Some times I get candy bugs that the Mages Guilds pseudo-fairy dragons have. They are great messengers since I bribe them, but sadly I am out of the bugs."
The corvid is correct, after two treats, a third is guaranteed. Ashes picks up a cracker this time and holds it towards Pothy. She repeats "Snacks," in monotone.
Her familiar, Chippen, and friends Carbuncle and Minnie, continue to feed themselves. The Mourner may not get anything, or will have to be tolerant of having shared her meal with vermin. That prospect doesn't seem to bother her.
She listens, her large ears occasionally flickering more towards Braelnoir or Morgan. The silver-scale gets a long uninterrupted look.
She does have a thought to add, "A single raven might be from another, or a peace offering. If it was the same, it would have been the parliament or murder."
"Thought that was crows?" Brae notes about the murder, glancing toward Ashes, "It... was a thing fer a while."
A shrug, "Mostly solved b'now."
Unless the bitch found a new familiar, but still...
She manages to put down several hunks of beef before she takes her first swig of her libation, then, "One implies a messenger. A flock's more likely t'try an' pull somethin'." she observes.
Seyardu's meal finally arrives, though she does catch the uninterrupted gaze, and her head tilts somewhat. It was a bowl of stew with a few large rolls. she pulls one in half, and offers half to the white raven. "Then that is too odd to not consider them still watching. Which means going without answer is not an option. Not to disrupt as the large group did before, but at least keep an eye on things. Which means, the sooner things are sorted the better."
"A group of ravens is an unkindness," Ravenstongue quickly pipes up. "Also known as a conspiracy. Murder is for crows--err, well... You get what I mean. But yes, I also got the impression it was either just a messenger or a single watcher--maybe he felt like he got his original point across with the flocks once what happened, well, happened, and the one was just to monitor me and make sure I know I have to answer eventually. If he's really been waiting since I was born, he's been waiting two decades... Which might not be much to him, but it's annoying, I would think."
Pothy croaks happily as he's now getting offered food from all sides of the table. This is the ideal state of being for him, obviously. Eventually, all will come to worship Pothy and give him the tribute that he naturally deserves-- "Snacks!" he announces as he dives into the food.
Morgan looks at the time and gets up after giving Brae a kiss on the cheek "I have to get home and check on a magic item I am making, but when you are done here come to my place." said with a wink. She then looks to Raven and says "I live at." she gives directions to a nice neighborhood "come by any time tomorrow when you want me to help you."
Braelnoir returns Morgans kiss with her own, along with a finger tracing the underside of her jaw, "Seeya'n a bit, luv."
She chases that with a wink as the little sage drifts off into the night, and returns her attention to the table at large, "So, this fae yahoo done anythin' direct t'ya at all'r just... sent's birds?"
"Right." Ashes nods at Brealnoir, then waves as Morgan departs, "Night."
She takes another sip of her juice. She nods at the merc's question.
A small epiphany strikes, so that's why he does it so often. Nod enough and everyone else will ask all the relevant questions.
Interesting. Sip.
There's a grey blur that shoots down the stairs, hurried footsteps announcing their arrival. Barely clipping on a grey cloak to ward off the chill and rain that's been oh so abundant is a mul'neissa woman absolutely speeding by the table of gathered folk. She skids to a halt at the bar, flailing some to slow her stop. She slaps a note on the countertop
"... you sure? You've been in that room for months."
Nod nod.
"You haven't broken anything in there, have you?"
... shake head.
"... what did you bre-"
Stack of gold.
"... nevermind.
Aryia dusts her hands off, returning back, but slowing as she sees a group of familiar people. And one not familiar. She raises a hand in greeting.
"Peace on your nest, Morgan." Seyardu replies with a wave before they left, and the table was smaller again. "You did not mention her before." The cleric notes, leaving it at that as she returned to her stew. "Well, when the birds showed up, and some form of magic was used on them, they took what I assume was the form of the fae in question to deliver the message, before vanishing."
Though her attention is immediately taken by Aryia sprinting down the pub room. "Ah, Aryia, peace on your nest. Is, everything alright? You seem to be in a rush." She asks.
Pothy croaks at Aryia first, as Ravenstongue is too occupied in saying goodbye to Morgan to immediately respond to Aryia's arrival. "Good evening, Aryia!" Ravenstongue signs to Aryia with a smile. <Handspeech>
"It is as Madame Seyardu said," Ravenstongue says. "I got a lady who I met previously visiting the Society for Progressive Arcanists to help, and she performed a rite that was just supposed to identify who sent the birds. And, well... Things happened. She also turned out to be my step-mom and was really... unpleasant."
"A bitch," Pothy says at the same time Ravenstongue says her last word, mimicking the voice of some very haughty woman before he stops to preen his feathers.
Braelnoir arches an eyebrow as the layers of the fae onion continue to be peeled back.
Hrm.
Her attention turns toward the streak of activity that was Aryia, and the Korite lifts a hand to wave with a, "'ey luvvie!" nodding toward Seyardu, "Y'owe somebody money?" she quips
The Mourner watches as Aryia bursts down the stairs, her head turning slowly to track the woman's progress. Everything seems in order, or at last, not needing her. She takes a sip and wonders what was broken. That was a lot of gold.
Another 'snack' is held out for Pothy, a different cracker this time, one with sesame seeds. "Snack," she says, in case the Raven's attention was suddenly hauled off to another dimension. What would it take for him to miss a snack.
She wonders...
Chippen seems finished with the meat and vanishes back into her sleeve. This leaves more room for Carbuncle and Minnie around the plate. They don't appear to like each other much.
The mul'neissa woman blinks, then smile, waving once more as her hands turn into signed expression. "Peace on your nest, Seyardu. And hello everyone." <Handspeech>
Aryia cracks a grin at Braelnoir, her reaching out to clap the Korite on the shoulder. Her hands move differently this time: rote, direct, simple. Gets the point across. "Negative. Moving locations. Terminating contract. Collateral damage needed to be compensated." <Merctalk>
Torch-lit gaze settles on the one she doesn't know. She raises a hand in greeting. "Hello." At least she was amiable. <Handspeech>
"She was, not pleasant, yes." Seyardu nods. "Though Jinks seemed to have managed to set her straight, or at least have her realize how she sounded with the way she was speaking."
The cleric squints at the different hand movements, before she instead looks back to her stew. It did not seem she could understand it, or was good at pretending not to. And Seyardu was a fairly horrible liar.
Braelnoir has about half her plate handled by this point, and lifts her tankard to toast the approaching Mul'niessa before the hand claps her shoulder.
A brow arches, and she looks to the flicking hand gestures a moment before she gives a wry smirk, as she in turn flicks out a short array of quick, very different handsigns "Acknowldged. Evade and fortify. Good hunting." <Merctalk>
"Been studyin', girl, good on ya!" she chuckles, clapping the dark elf on the shoulder in due course before looking to Seyardu, "We definitely need us a good day ta hang out'n relax. Th'lot of us."
Pothy does not miss a single snack. Not if he can help it. He takes the sesame seed cracker and happily croaks as he swallows it in one fluid motion. By now, most birds would be stopping, but he still looks around the table with puppy-dog... err, fledgeling-raven eyes, as though he was hoping the table would continue to find his cuteness so irresistible that they had to feed him.
Ravenstongue busies herself for the moment with buying herself a small plate of crackers and cheese... well, buying a plate for Pothy, more like it, not wanting to burden Ashlee any further.
Ashes nods towards Aryia. She doesn't raise her hands to sign back. She might not understand or might not have anything to say.
There is the tiniest possibility she's engaged in a 'feed the familiar' contest with Ravenstongue, as she picks up a cube of spicy sausage on a toothpick, and waves it back and forth at the Albino raven. She does not say 'snacks' this time. It's implied.
It's at this moment she realizes her hand is occupied, the pamphlet from the Temple of Vardama is in her satchel, and there's an uncomfortable silence. Uncomfortable for her, because there are living people in it, with ghosts she can wait until they feel like speaking. With the living, there's that social obligation. Her living interactions lately have been with a small, well-known group. Away from them, she feels the awkwardness returning.
Relax. Inhale. Exhale. Everything will be okay. She does so.
To everyone else, there's a grey hobgoblin sitting at the table, with a skull face, that's breathing heavily and saying nothing.
Aryia catches Seyardu's down gaze, and she pats the silverscale's arm. "Sorry. I said I was moving soon, still in city. I broke somethings in my room so I was paying for it. Was in a rush because, well, I needed to get it done quick."
She grins at the clasp on the shoulder, and nods. "Yes! After I went to a party, someone was using it. So... I wanted to make sure I could still talk with people regardless. And yes, a day out sounds great!"
Her attention settles on the hobgoblin. Ignoring the... whatever is going on the table, her head tilts to the side. Then the other way. "... are... you okay?" she asks of the unintroduced person. <Handspeech>
"It is alright Aryia." The cleric nods back. Then she squints. "You can always ask me for help if you are in a rush, and I know magic for repairing broken things. But, you are moving? This is the first I have heard. Is something pushing you abruptly out of here?"
"That makes sense, it is like another language. I have not looked into learning any new ones in some time, there is always something else to tend to it feels. But perhaps a day to relax would not go amiss."
She glances to the hobgoblin, but it seems they did not want to talk at the moment, so she just returns to her stew.
Pothy notices Ashlee's heavy breathing. The corvid makes some quiet, soothing noises as he takes the sausage on a toothpick from her, but chooses instead to push his feathered head into her fingers. It's consolation, perhaps learned from being Ravenstongue's familiar.
Ravenstongue receives her plate of food and looks over to Pothy and Ashlee. She smiles a little to see Pothy is focused on being a nice bird rather than a begging bird, for once.
The door bangs open, just out of Stjepan's reaching hand. He springs inside, dripping, followed by a curl of icy wind. Turning, he shoves the door closed, then stands there dripping.
There's a slight jump at the door-slam. Ash's eyes, then her head turns to stare in the direction of the door, and the jotun. She looks back at the table. Her hand resumes petting Pothy, a soft and automatic movement. She has a light touch, good for small animals. She's also grave-like, a win-win for ravens.
"I'm ok." She nods at Aryia.
She resumes her sitting, staring, meditative inhaling. Her hand takes a quick break, long enough to retrieve the grey on grey on black Vardama pamphlet. As she resumes petting, again, she opens it up.
It is her well-worn, 'How to Act like a Normal Person', tract. Unfolded to 'safe conversation topics', there's a list. In a bored monotone she says, "Did you see the big fight at the Colosseum?"
Aryia jumps as well from the bang at the door, her looking over to spy the large man. The mul gives an awkward smile in embarrassment, and she raises a hand to the man in greeting.
Back to the table. Perhaps it wasn't until now that she could properly read the hobgoblin. The unease, the methodical movements, the... pamphlet? Head tilt. "... yes? I was in it. I compete in there quite often..." she slowly gestures. Was the hobgoblin reading off the pages?
To Seyardu, she rubs her neck. "I... uh. There is no rush. I just forgot to do it. And, um, I don't know if your magic can. It's a big hole. From when I.. practiced moving fast. Yes. I'm moving. After that Ashwing attack here I don't feel very safe living here. This wasn't sudden. And... er... moving in with Violet so..." she rolls her hand, as if it would explain more. <Handspeech>
Ravenstongue yawns as she looks at the group of people and subtly puts the food on her plate into her pockets, presumably to feed to Pothy on her way home. "Pothy, it's getting late--say bye to everyone, okay?"
Pothy looks at Ravenstongue, quite bluntly, like she's insane. She's asking him to just... walk away? From Ashlee's very nice pets, from a steady access of snacks, from his adoring audience? He throws his head back in an overly dramatic fashion and makes a sound like the exasperated sigh of a teenage girl. "You're ruining everything, mom!" he even says in the voice of said teenage girl. But he flies back to Ravenstongue's shoulder and says, in her voice, "Good night, Pothy!"
"Close enough," Ravenstongue says with a snicker. She waves and leaves the pub, giving a brief hello to Stjepan on the way out.
Stjepan lifts a dripping hand, embarrassed. "Sorry about that." He makes way for Raven and Pothy, "Night, Lana." He takes a moment, and completes his rudimentary drip-dry.
Jinks falls through the door, laughing arm-in-arm with a buxom gnomess with wavy, chin-length hair a brooding midnight blue. They're both soaked through to the bone and panting, likely having just dashed through the elements to the safety of the Fernwood. Both drip just beyond the entry, leaning against each other and laughing as they sort out the place, stepping aside and half-bowing as Ravenstongue makes her exit.
Jinks is in his finery, phthalo green and snug with glittering trim a dull, rust-colored orange. His pale partner wears a leather vest and breeches, with a loose-sleeved shirt that's gone translucent in the rain. Each holds up a corner of a wool blanket that's gone heavy with the wet and sing a sloppy, drunken chrous as they enter.
- "Someone like you...
- Make it all worth while
- Somone like you
- Keep me satisfied
- Somoene... exactly like you..."
They giggle, singine out of step and off-rhythm. Jinks is a wonderful, practiced tenor and the girl singers with the wreckless abandon of the inebriated; they are having a time.
The tall and then the small enter. Ash's head turns to look this time at a pair of gnomes. After she's observed them long enough, she turns back to the table.
Her hand brushes empty air, Ravenstongue and her raven are gone. Ashlee will have to be content with her own pets. She ponders a snake again. She looks at Braelnoir.
She looks at Seyardu.
She looks at Aryia.
She looks down at her list again. No, don't ask about the weather. Oh right, it says that. The next one seems safe, "Nice boots." Braelnoir isn't a snake, though.
Not anymore.
She looks to Ashes as she notes the look, brow arching, though she doesn't follow the tracks of the Mourner's mind.
She reaches out to gently clap the Hob's shoulder, "I'ma getcha a beer, luv." and she rises, waving to the new arrivals, then looks to the rest of the table as she steps toard the bar, "Anyone else fer a round while I'm up?"
Stjepan starts towards the bar, damply. He gets out of Jinks way, and converges on the bartender, nodding to Brae. "I can carry if you run out of hands." He order mulled wine for himself.
Seyardu squints, and looks down to her very bootless feet.But then she just turns back to Ashes and smiles. "I may not have boots, but Aryia takes great pride in her clothing. She makes much of it herself." She states, before sighing. "Yes, that makes sense, Aryia, and I understand you not saying anything."
Then she sits up straight, before the movements and arrival of Jinks catches her attention. "Ah! This one, I have news to share another time Aryia and Braelnoir. But it is good news. I am fine without any drinks. Peace on your nests, Stjepan and Jinks."
"I've been... travelin' a hard road," Jinks begins, turning and ushering in his companion by the wrist. She doesn't know this verse, apparently, so the minstrel helps. "Baby... lookin' for someone exactly like you." He sings, smiling that idiot smile. His hair is a mess, the tightly-kept ponytail quit for a dangling nest of shoulder-length white. "I've been carryin' my heavy lo-OH!" and then he trips. stumbling to fall on his back. He thumps to the ground and the melody is lost. He lies on his back, laughing and reaching up.
The female gnome walks over, laughing, too, as she takes his ring-heavy fingers in both hands and tries to pull. Jinks is a worthless, limp lump of drunk gnome and he ends up pulling her down. Both lie on the ground for the moment, laughing and trying to right themselves.
The dandy rolls onto his side and pats the cheek of his female partner, grinning wide enough so show his teeth. "Waiting for the light to come shing through..." he adds, finishing the verse. Then he snorts, losing his composure as they both fall into their mad laughter.
A jotun bouncer quits his chair, annoyed as he sets aside his little book. These are the sort of madcap antics this establishment could do without...
The massive brute rolls his shoulders and stretches his head this way and that. Throwing a pair of drunk gnomes out shouldn't be too much of a worry...
Aryia is, expectantly, unnerved by Ashes. She was used to deadpan and straightforward. She was even versed in dealing with Mourners, which the mute *thinks* the hobgoblin is one. Given the whole, deathly thing going on and the pamphlet in their hands. She hisses out a lame, "Th-nks..." through her lips, her wiggling her toes in her dark blue boots. The praise from Seyardu, however, gets an honest smile on her lips She does shake her head at Braelnoir's offer, no drinking tonight, don't want to get carried away.
She peers over at the newcoming, raising a brow at the partying. But she grins slightly. It looked like Jinks was having a grand time. She gives a nod, and a wave from the hip to the man.
She raises a brow at Seyardu, nods slowly, but then snickers as the gaggle of gnomes are falling over each other.
Ashlee raises her hand, indicating her desire for a drink, as Braelnoir goes for them. She watches the silver-haired merc move across the tavern, thinks of snakes again.
The amorous entanglement and rolling gnomes get her attention next. There seems to be an irresistible force on it's way. The Mourner decides to see how this plays out.
She glances at Aryia, then nods deliberately. She thinks about smiling. She has goblinoid teeth. Best not. They look even worse with her tattoo.
She returns to watching the gnomes and the jotun, although she adds to Seyardu, "He's going to be thrown out."
Stjepan stops, corrals his wine, and turns to watch one of his brethren do his thing. Huh.
Jinks is on his feet before the jotun bouncer can arrive, laughing and teary-eyed. He bends to wrap his arms full around the mess of a date and heaves, managing to right himself and stand with all the strength born to a hero of this current age. When the giant-blooded is near enough the minstrel makes a flicking motion, humming something that leaves the guard discombobulated. The huge man is confused, frankly, and looks around dumbstruck for a moment before returning slowly to his chair.
"I am an unstoppable fuckin' force," Jinks taunts to no one, licking his lips and helping to sort his date. The blue-haired gnomess has her feet and leans in to whisper something, then heads for the lady's.
Sighing, the dandy considers the room, straightening his clothes and trying to look casual though he wobbles like the thinnest of reeds in a strong wind. He stumbles over to the table of familiar faces. "Why, hello there," he slurs, smiling a fool. He leans over, his elbow falling heavily onto the table heavily as he braces his chin and leers around at the occupants.
Aryia blinks at the display, then snickers silently once more. It would been funny to see them get tossed out like Ashlee predicted. "I can stop you, and you know it," she teases the gnome as he joins their table. "Looks like you're enjoying yourself." <Handspeech>
"Yes, he will most likely be thrown out." Seyardu nods back to Ashes. Then the gnome somehow makes the jotunn return back to the chair. "Or perhaps not." Though when he ambles over to the table, the cleric is glaring at Jinks. "Am I supposed to overlook the fact that you most likely enchanted a guard here because you have been drinking too much?" She asks.
Stjepan gets up. "I should go afore this gets unpleasant." He pushes up, heads for the door.
"It's fine." The ashen Arvec says suddenly. Her words are still flat and monotone, but she's very precise with them. "It's the only way to get them to do their jobs."
The recent face of a Wanted Poster has an opinion or two about the local Law and Order. "Overlook it."
That was a little harsh. She should explain, or apologize, "It's better than putting a geas on them." Perfect.
Jinks grins wide at Aryia, the corner of his lips threatening to ovetake his ears. "Could you? Perhaps. But mayhaps not. It chaps. The path? It traps. A sturdy bridge? Collapse. The time? Elapse. Brigands? With saps. Awake? Then naps. Progres? Relapse." He wheezes, laughing, and sucking at his teeth.
The gnome bangs his fist on the table. More than a little amused with himself.
Jinks leans in close, flaring his nostrils. "I speak the languages of the people." <draconic>
Jinks takes a seat, leaning back to raise his eyebrows, haughty and aloof. "Yet I remain above." <sylvan>
Jinks snaps his fingers and claps his hands. "I can connect with the working man." <khazdul>
Jinks leers, stroking his goatee. "I remain inscrutable..." He wavers in the stool, looking as if he's fit to fall over at any given time. He's a pantomime villain. Supremely confident yet immediately fallible. <kulthian>
Aryia blinks, then confidently nods. "Yes. I could." Then he goes off into different prose and tongue, unable to be understood, except for - "You're drunk, not... that word."
She snerks at Ashlee, nodding in agreement. "Besides, rather not have their precious time wasted on drunks." There's a lot of sarcasm in those motions. She steps towards the stairs. "Behave Jinks, else anyone else is allowed to come get me and I'll personally toss him out. Or, at least, take him home." See? She could be nice. "Have a nice night everyone." With that, she heads back up stairs. <Handspeech>
Seyardu looks to Ashes when they speak up, and the sith-makar sighs. "They can do their jobs, but yes, many do not. But there was a fiend that attacked this place before."
"I would be more understanding, but this is Jinks. I was thinking you may have changed, but deep down, perhaps that was not the case."
"Good night Aryia, peace on your nest." She offers in parting to the mul'niessa.
Ashlee watches Jinks as he approaches, signs and speaks various languages. Some, she understands, no expression betrays which. After he's done, she nods. Right. Now that she has learned the secret of the nod she must conserve her use.
Aryia gets a small wave when she seems to agree with the ashen Arvec's sentiments. She's had... a history. One that has given her a lot to think about. Good, evil, and simply getting things done.
"He helped try to stop a demon that tortured my friend in Hell for three months." Ashlee says in monotone. It was a brief encounter but it left an impression on her. In terms of first impressions it's hard to come up with a better one. He also died, which is a plus in Ash's estimation. She likes dead people.
She thinks carefully. What was that phrase she overheard. Oh yes, "He's a god-damned hero."
Jinks just smiles at Aryia and Seyardu and Ashlee, accepting the warnings like a duck accepts water on its feathers. Even sitting still he sways slightly and his onyx-black eyes never seem to find their proper focus. "All apologies, I remain beyond redemption." He consoles the sith-makar. He glances at the 'nar and shakes his head, "AND a fucking fool."
Then the calls comes from across the room...
"Oh, Ji~ii~ii~iinks," and the minstrel slides out of his chair, bracing against the table just before the female gnome jumps against him. They entangle themselves; her fingers in his hair while the other hand pulls down at his collar. He sneaks a hand up the back of her shirt, beneath her vest. Their faces meet and they abandon any concepts of common decency.
They push against each other, both taking and giving ground until Jinks pushes his companion towards the stairs to the balcony. They find consensus and head up, disappearing towards the privacy of the upper floor and one of the gnome-sized tables there.
"Did he?" Seyardu asks, one brow raised at the gnome. "Well, that is good of him to do. But it does not take a good person to do good deeds. I am still unconvinced."
The cleric shakes her head and returns to her food once Jinks leaves. "I can not readily ignore the things said. And the casual manipulation of people like that, he did not even think twice."
"The Grey Lady will judge him." Ashlee says, with a shrug. Her gaze follows the gnome and companion as they head upstairs. She has no particular thoughts regarding their clear intent. The Grey Halls held some revealing surprises.
Her plate is empty, her orange juice gone and the beer never arrived. She can feel her pets moving around beneath her clothes. They're all on board, good.
The Mourner is left sitting with a silver sith'makar that she doesn't know well. She looks down at her pamphlet again. At the list of safe topics, then the list of unsafe topics. There's a nice rain outside, and a wind to blow her around.
She stands and silently drifts off. There was something else... right. Normal people say things when they depart. She's gotten too used to being around her friends. Her head turns, at a distance her skull-face marking is very distinct. She looks more skeleton than alive, "Goodbye."
The door to the Fernwood is opened and a cold wind whisks her out.
OOC
Inspirational Ashes
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bubOcI11sps
<OOC> Morgan says, "ok we all need to tie our self to each other and do not mind the nipple clamps they keep the lag away."
<OOC> Ravenstongue snickers. Didn't realize there was an adult version of the buddy system!
To (Morgan, Ashes), Ravenstongue pages: Oooh, I am so happy people are latching on. :) Morgan would know that the Feathered One is rather reclusive among the fey nobility. He does not often show up at the Court of the Faerie and seems to attend only when specifically called for. Given that Morgan is a loremaster, I'd say that she would have heard a rumor that the Feathered One had a mortal lover, and possibly progeny with them, many generations ago.