Two Sorcerers in a Bar

Log Info

• Title: Two Sorcerers in a Bar
• Emitter: Telamon
• Characters: Ravenstongue, Telamon
• Place: A07 - Fernwood Pub
• Time: October 19, 2021
• Summary: Telamon waits for Ravenstongue for the dinner date he asked her out on (although Ravenstongue is completely oblivious to the undertone). However, Ravenstongue arrives looking very sleep-deprived and troubled. Over dinner, they talk about Ravenstongue's plight of birds following her everywhere and her lack of sleep. They theorize about the cause of this strange phenomenon, and while they both conclude that the fae are likely involved, the question is: why? The dinner manages to raise Ravenstongue's spirits, and Telamon walks her back home.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-<* 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.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- Dramatic Personae =--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
 Ravenstongue    Short half-elf girl with violet eyes and black hair.
 Telamon         A platinum-blond half-sil man with dancing dark eyes
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

There's no excuse for not putting your best foot forward in a social situation. And so Telamon waits with a fairly cheerful expression just inside the pub, out of the chill of the evening. Dressed in his usual dark tunic and breeches, boots shined, and a heavy cloak slung over one arm almost carelessly, he looks less like an 'adventurer' and more like some middle-class dandy intent on impressing a lady.

Which isn't TOO far off the mark. But there's no reason not to work on multiple levels here: a pleasant evening with a lovely woman, networking with another half-elf, and sharing notes on their arcane gifts. It's the best kind of meeting.

In stark contrast... Ravenstongue enters the pub with dark circles under her eyes, otherwise wearing the same sort of clothes she'd worn when she first met Telamon. Pothy is on her shoulder, looking rather vigilant. He even growls at people who gets near her. "Calm down, Pothy, I don't think anyone here is going to hurt us," she says, before catching sight of Telamon. She smiles and waves.

"Hello! Nice to see you again," she says, although the dark circles suggesting a lack of sleep provide such a sharp contrast to that statement that one has to question it.

Telamon approaches Ravenstongue with a broad smile, but his expression falters a bit when he sees her somewhat careworn look. "It's good to see you too, but it seems something's been chasing you in your dreams. Here..." He reaches out to take her elbow in a gentlemanly manner, watching Pothy; if he's allowed, he guides her to one of the tables tucked away in niches, helping her seat herself before joining her. "Are you well?" he asks, waving over one of the pub's staff for the initial drinks.

Pothy stares long and hard at Telamon. Those blue eyes bore deep down to the soul. This is less like an overbearing parent judging the friend that their child has brought home and more like a deity weighing the worth of the single little soul before them. The weight of the avian eyes is crushing, and--

"Snacks!" he says, but nothing more. It appears Telamon is cleared for lift-off, so long as he pays the usual Pothy-toll.

Ravenstongue doesn't mind Telamon taking her elbow at all in stark contrast, even seeming to appreciate that he's chosen a rather tucked away table for them to sit at. "Umm, well, you're right about the dreams thing," she says. "Pothy and I have been dealing with birds following us everywhere today. There's been an owl right outside of my window hooting at the top of his lungs, too. Pothy has yelled at him, but he won't go away."

Telamon just rolls his eyes at Pothy in amusement. "You're incorrigible, my feathered friend." He raises his eyebrows at Ravenstongue. "Is it just you, or does this seem to be a general thing? My initial thought would be that you'd offended a druid in some way." Then the waitress arrives, and Telamon orders a glass of the house wine, before looking to Ravenstongue. "I'm not so forward as to assume to know your tastes... oh," he asides to the waitress, "Please bring a small bowl of nuts for the raven to snack on."

"I'm nuts about nuts! Boy howdy!" Pothy declares, imitating some hawkish voice of a market vendor.

"He does like nuts," Ravenstongue says. "I'll just have a glass of water for now." Once the waitress walks off, Ravenstongue turns back to Telamon and says, "They're just following me. Owls and other ravens, mostly, but I see other birds, too. I can't think of anyone I've even remotely upset before. The birds just all stare at me or be close to me. It's the weirdest thing."

Telamon sits back, tapping his fingertips together. "You might want to consult someone on this -- a priest, perhaps. I mean, the easy answer is that Pothy's broken some obscure law of birds and they're after him, not you..." He can't quite conceal a grin at that. "Kidding. But it does seem like a portent or omen." The drinks come swiftly, a tall crystal tumbler of water and a glass of wine. "I'll cover the tab," he says firmly. "So order what you like."

Ravenstongue looks at Telamon for a long moment before a grin cracks on her face. "Are you telling me that Pothy is in trouble with bird law?" she asks, before giggling. "You're a bird criminal, Pothy!"

"Bad boy, bad boy," he says, mimicking Ravenstongue's own voice, before resuming his careful watch of the environs for bird interlopers... And that bowl of nuts.

Ravenstongue smiles at Telamon again. "I probably should... Maybe I'll find a druid to help me figure out what's going on. Surely if I could talk to the birds and they talked back, I'd know why, right?"

Telamon shrugs. "I've never had this problem myself, so I can't really say. I don't want to point you in the wrong direction. But my advice has always been if you don't know, find someone who does." The bowl of nuts arrives at that point, and the waitress takes their orders before retreating again. Telamon looks rueful. "Boy, that sounds stupid when I think about it. 'If you don't know, find someone who does'. Maybe I can suggest you remember to breathe next."

Ravenstongue snickers. "Well, it's surprisingly advice that not a lot of people follow or even think of. Sometimes people need you to state what you think is obvious, because it's not obvious to them. At any rate... I do have a theory about the birds, because I've been seeing them for a while, although it was only a couple of ravens at first."

Telamon takes a sip of his wine. "I know, but... gods, it's not like I'm some kind of wise scholar. I'm barely 'of age' as it's reckoned by elves and half-elves. I feel so absurd." He chuckles. When she mentions the theory, he arches his brows. "Go ahead. I'll see if I can poke holes in it. Or confirm it, one way or the other."

"I'm only twenty years old myself, so I bet we're around the same age," Ravenstongue says, smiling. "So I'm also just sort of flailing around. But for some reason, I do think it's related to the fae. Specifically, when I have been able to sleep, I keep hearing Sylvan, or something like it, but I can never remember what was said when I wake up."

Telamon furrows his brow. "That would be the easiest assumption. Although this seems... undirected? Don't fae usually try and nudge you into doing something, through misdirection or somesuch? I mean, just random harassment seems a little odd." He cocks an eye at Pothy. "Steal anything really shiny lately, Pothy?"

"Do you think they'd harass me if they thought I stole something?" Ravenstongue frowns, although it's an expression that is more thoughtful than anything else. "Maybe they're coming after me because of Pothy."

Pothy looks at Telamon again for a long moment, looking up from his bowl of nuts. "I ain't got the goods, babe," he says, imitating some greasy-sounding street slicker.

"The only thing Pothy really steals is food, and he's gotten a lot better about that since I got him a few years ago," Ravenstongue says. "Nowadays, he expects random people to feed him."

Telamon shakes his head. "Arcane familiars are nothing new. And with all due respect, Pothy doesn't strike me as terribly special in that regard. I've read of some magi calling minor fae as familiars, and that could kick off a little diplomatic incident, but this seems... extravagant." The food arrives at that point, and Telamon gestures for Ravenstongue to dig in. "Eat first. We can continue in a little bit."

Ravenstongue blinks, as though she's completely forgotten about the food. Which, well, she has. She hasn't touched it even a little. "Oh, right," she says, and she begins to dig into her food, eating a rather small bit at a time.

"Eat, eat, silly girl!" Pothy says, in the voice of an old woman seeming to encourage her grandchild to have another helping. He even nudges his bowl of nuts in Ravenstongue's direction. It appears even Pothy knows how to share food.

"See? Pothy agrees with me. I have to be right." Yes, that's insane gobber logic right there, but Telamon is absolutely shameless if it helps him make a point. He bends to his meal as well, and several minutes pass before he picks up the conversation's thread again after another sip of wine. "Are these birds aggressive? Or just noisy and glaring at you?"

Ravenstongue has made some progress in her meal by the time Telamon poses her question. She eats... Well, she eats like a bird, as the saying goes, although clearly the person who coined that saying never met Pothy. She looks up at Telamon and shakes her head. "Just noisy and staring at me. Pothy really doesn't like the ravens."

Telamon nods. "I'll bet. Familiars can be like that." He sits back, mulling it over. "I have a couple ideas, ranging from 'probably bad idea' to 'amazingly bad idea'. Doesn't solve the question of why they're following you. I know we went over this before, but have you picked up anything unusual? A ring, a bauble, even some kind of little lucky charm or nostrum?"

Ravenstongue shakes her head. "Nope. I don't pick up anything that doesn't belong to me," she says. "Even on my only adventure to date, that was in an abandoned city filled with kobolds. We brought back a rock and that was it. Nothing that the fae should be concerned with, I think."

Telamon hrms. "Yeah, but the fae get really weird about things. Maybe you disturbed one's... uh... rock garden?" He pauses, replays that in his head, and then just shrugs and pushes onward. "I mean, you just got back from that abandoned city, I can't imagine the fae would care about the kobolds, that's the only other change you've mentioned..."

"It's really weird," Ravenstongue agrees. "The only other thing I can think of is... Well... I actually don't remember large portions of my past."

She adjusts herself a little in her seat, leaning in a little to whisper. "Maybe something happened when I was younger and I don't remember."

Telamon closes his eyes briefly. "That ... might be an issue as well, Ravenstongue." He takes a deep breath, and then downs most of what's left of his wine. "Alright. So there may be something connected to your past that's causing these birds to follow you around." He fixes Pothy with a quick stare. "If you have anything to contribute, now would be a really good time."

Pothy looks at Telamon. "Snacks," Pothy says, very helpfully.

Ravenstongue smiles a little, suppressing a laugh. "Believe me, I've tried. He's a mystery, too, in a way. I don't fully remember how I got him, and when my friend Mister Stjepan looked at me with his arcane sight, he said it looked like I had a lot of memory modification spells cast on me at some point."

Telamon frowns. "I see..." He cocks his head. "Have you consulted anyone about trying to get those spells reversed, if possible? Having large chunks of my life missing strikes me as dangerous, not to mention disturbing." The waitress comes by to collect empty plates, and to refill Telamon's wineglass.

"Well, I have talked to some powerful spellcasters," Ravenstongue says, "but they're reluctant to try and unwind them. When you have a system of spells laid on top of each other, it's difficult to unravel all of them without adverse effects. That's how it was explained to me, anyway."

Pothy croaks at the waitress, presumably to bring him more nuts.

Hurriedly, the waitress comes by with a new bowl of nuts for the clearly impatient bird. Meanwhile, Telamon frowns again. "Damn. I'm... not versed in that sort of thing. And my grasp of magic is still very... basic, I suppose is the best word. That doesn't solve your problem though." He sits back. "Maybe another visit to the Arcanists' Society is called for? Surely someone there has some idea on how to handle stalking flocks of birds."

"I think I will go have a visit there soon," Ravenstongue says. She smiles a little to see how invested Telamon seems to be in her problems. "It's really sweet that you care so much, though. People here are so nice compared to back in Rune."

Telamon offers a smile. "Well, like you said, half-elves have to stick together. Plus, you can never have too many friends." He reaches over and gives Ravenstongue's hand a squeeze. "And what are friends for, if not to help with your burdens? I imagine we'll both have tales to tell as time goes on."

Pothy interrupts the rather sweet moment by walking over to Telamon. Tap, tap, tap. He looks up at Telamon with those big blue eyes. "Merp," he croaks. The raven has decided he is now the center of the show and Ravenstongue's had too much screen time.

Ravenstongue snickers. "Sometimes he's more like a ham than a bird," she says.

He gives Pothy a bemused look. "I'm going to have to reach an accomodation with you, won't I? Fair enough. Although I'm tempted to introduce you to Raspberry. You'd like him, Pothy. Or perhaps not, he's not the talkative type, thank the gods." Telamon looks at Ravenstongue with a grin. "Some mighty magician I am, eh? No noble steed, just a donkey to carry my goods."

"We have to start somewhere, right?" Ravenstongue smiles. "We're novices at what we do--for now, anyway."

Pothy taps even closer to Telamon until the beak is uncomfortably close to the face. "Ahem. MERP."

"Oh, he does that when he wants your attention," Ravenstongue says, snickering. "Just pat him on the head and he'll stop."

Telamon reaches up to pat Pothy's head, scritching very gently. "He's definitely a handful. One of the mages I met with back home, when I was younger, had a cat familiar. She'd bat at you if she wanted to get your attention, and she wasn't above a little clawpoke if that didn't work."

Pothy... purrs. Apparently ravens can purr, or at least, Pothy can. Then again, Pothy is magical. His tail feathers even bob up and down in the universal happy gesture. He nudges his fluffy head further into Telamon's head, not unlike a cat. Maybe familiars are universal in their demands for pets.

"Pothy bites," Ravenstongue says, seeming to pale at a distant recollection of what can only be presumed to be some awful Pothy biting incident. "That's his last resort if his constant croaking doesn't get your attention, though."

Telamon lets the bird nuzzle into his hand, his touch gentle. "Well, I'll try not to force the issue. I'm happy enough to hand out pets in exchange for his good will." His eyes twinkle a bit. "I wouldn't want him to disapprove of me, after all. And he strikes me as a good influence."

"Good influence," Pothy echoes, uncannily able to mimic Telamon's voice. This earns a giggle from Ravenstongue.

"He certainly thinks he is. Although that's coming from a mostly-reformed food thief. He was an absolute terror after I got him for the first time."

Telamon shakes his head, continuing to stroke Pothy's feathers. "I mean, a familiar is more than just a pet, or even a favored animal. So I kind of expect them to be... different." He looks down at Pothy. "So, what do you say, friend? Partners?" He offers the bird a finger to shake.

Pothy takes the finger in his corvid mouth and holds it in his beak, croaking happily. The corvid handshake is complete. The pact is sealed.

"I think that seals it!" Ravenstongue says, smiling. She's actually finished with her food by this point, and is notably happier than when she arrived at the pub earlier.

Telamon shakes happily with Pothy, before turning his eyes back to Ravenstongue. Looking pleased at her, as she seems far more at ease now. "Why don't I settle up here, then, and then I can walk you back to your place? There's no rush, and the evening really is pleasant if cool."

Ravenstongue smiles. "That'd be really nice," she says. "I actually live close by, so it won't be a very long walk. Plus Pothy loves trying to get samples from the food stalls on our way home."

Telamon nods, and grins. "Of course he would. You're as voracious as three trolls, my feathered friend." He pets Pothy though, before deftly sliding out of his seat and signaling to the waitress. Moving over to the bar to settle up with the establishment, the clinking of coins and cheerful reassurance that yes, the meal was excellent.