To Find a Mourner (Part 5)
Log Info
- Title: To Find a Mourner (Part 5)
- GM: Verna
- Place: Caracoroth's Teeth
The heroes descended the elevator with other slaves to meet guards. Guards which were swiftly dispatched. Departing the elevator brough them down a short hall to a small room, presumably a guardpost or control point of some sort, where Rune unlocked the grate-door to another short hall.
This short hall ends in yet another grate-door and small room, seemingly similar to the one in which the heroes stand; save for the fact that the other room had a guard in it. Past-tense, care of Telamon's magic which is not halted by cage doors. Unfortunately, there was another, who took notice of his dying co-worker and unexpected visitors. Rather than face them directly, he moved out of view and, shortly after, a shrill alarm has begun to sound.
Harkashan is keeping his magics reined in so far. Instead, he's keeping his focus on starting to move ahead of the team slightly as the shrill alarm starts to sound. "We're probably expecting trouble coming in soon. So I'm going to start casting a bit of preparation magic." He rumbles.
"I'm taking requests." He adds, as he touches his chest and lets pale magic wave over him, creating an aura of evil-suppressing magics upon his own armor.
GAME: Harkashan casts Magic Circle Against Evil. Caster Level: 13 DC: 20
Auranar frowns, imagining a horde of enemies descending on them. They don't have time to be stalled here. Not with Verna waiting. "We don't have time for this. Rune, can you get us through the door, and the rest of us can provide something suitably dangerous-looking for our hosts." Her dark eyes fall on Telamon. "If you could provide the proper ambiance and explain the situation?"
GAME: Rune rolls perception+6: (15)+33+6: 54
"Tch. Unfortunate." Aelwyn states in clear frustration as the guard gets away. He swings his glaive around and moves up front, his chest expanding and shoulders rolling. Mentally, he prepared for a what probably was long and painful combat.
"Make this one big again?" He asks from Harkashan with a playful voice, before he shakes his head. "Pray for the assistance of one's gods, for this one feels there shall be a bloodbath." A brief glance towards the Ravenkeepers. "One supposes."
GAME: Rune takes ten on Disable Device+6: (10)+31+6: 47
Telamon has finished choking out the hapless guard with his magic, as Rune hurries to the door. "It was going to happen eventually, Aelwyn," he remarks. "Frankly, I thought we'd have to fight our way in from the start. The fact we've got this far before being spotted is a good thing." Tel gives Auranar a nod. "When the guards start arriving, I will have such sights to show them."
The sudden blare of an alarm has Rune clap her hands against her ears at first, the instinctual reaction when everything has gotten too loud too quickly. The reaction doesn't last long, though, as she reaches back for her weapons, edging towards any place along the walls where shadows are more present, blending in with them slightly. "Well, it looks like we've blown the quiet approach."
Blue eyes in the shadows look towards Auranar. "I'll follow where you lead, what do you want to do?" She leaves it in the hands of their 'leader', because if it were Harkashan in danger, she'd want to be the one making the calls. Since it is Verna, that responsibility falls to Auranar.
With the command given to deal with the door, Rune nods her head, stepping forward as she sets to the task at hand, "Pothy, I'll need your assistance again, my friend. Same as before." They are a bit faster this time, since it seems to be the same mechanism as previously.
GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+6: (16)+6: 22
The Goblin looks quite concerned at the alarm, covering her ears slightly. "Hopefully they do not have separate alarms to indicate from which door we're intruding through." She lets out a low huff. "Think this stone can be messed with using magic? I regret I've only prayed for one, but I can probably cut out a few of the barred doors, to expedite things a little?" Simony blinks as the door swings open.
"There is that, I suppose.", she says gesturing to the now open door.
Pothy is a tremendously good lockpicking assistant. He is learning tricks and tips that will make him an absolute menace once he returns to the Lupecyll-Atlon abode.
Cor'lana, meanwhile, looks more nervous at Pothy learning how to lockpick than the general situation. "Peace was never an option," she simply remarks. "Silence was only ever a guise meant to be torn off at some point, like a cloak torn dramatically off the body for a revelation." She's spent too much time in the Theatre District lately.
As before, there is no lock that can defy Rune, with Pothy's direction (or is that the other way around?). While the door doesn't fight back, it appears the guard might be. From a bit of distance, as a crossbow bolt flies through the holes in the door yet misses both Rune and Pothy to bounce off the stone wall.
GAME: Telamon rolls Perception: (6)+33: 39 GAME: Auranar rolls Perception: (6)+5: 11 GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Perception: (8)+24: 32 GAME: Rune rolls perception: (2)+33: 35 GAME: Simony rolls perception: (4)+14: 18 GAME: Aelwyn rolls perception: (18)+1: 19 GAME: Harkashan rolls Perception: (15)+18: 33
Rune and Pothy (and any others immediately at the now-unlocked door) can see a guard to the far left of this new room, against another grated door, frantically trying to reload a crossbow. Not much more than hints of another, longer hallway can be seen beyond the door with the guard in front of it.
Directly across from the now-unlocked door is another similar door that reveals a descending stone staircase beyond it.
Those not at the door cannot view the guard and door to the left, but the direction from which the bolt came is obvious.
"I don't think that was me." Harkashan answers Aelwyn. "I don't think I am familiar with any magics given to me by the Deathsinging Dragon. But I can do some research if you'd like me to when we get back?"
He steps up besides Rune, watching her lockpick while touching his shield just above the lock - to cover her head from any ranged bolts or magics that might come at her from the other side of the door.
Harkashan then, as the door opens, steps in and stares down the guard that is frantically trying to reload the crossbow, while pointing his Khopesh at him. "Don't." Is all he says - as he proceeds to cast a spell of weakening his enemies, and approaches practically to being right in his face, staring him down.
GAME: Harkashan casts Archon's Aura. Caster Level: 13 DC: 20 GAME: Harkashan rolls Intimidate: (17)+9: 26 GAME: Ravenstongue casts Charm Person/Persistent. Caster Level: 20 DC: 21 GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+4: (8)+4: 12
Telamon looks pleased as Rune and Pothy pop the door open easily. "Well now, that was ominous. I may need better locks on the pantry door..." He frowns as a crossbow bolt goes zipping past, his dark eyes flickering. "Now that's just rude."
He incants a brief spell, "Duksium irhandi," and a crackling disc of force appears in front of him before fading, as he ambles along behind his wife and Harkashan. "You know, I'm kind of puzzled. I mean, surely they expected an assault."
GAME: Telamon casts Shield. Caster Level: 20 DC: 20
Cor'lana smiles at Telamon, and there's a little glint in her eyes. Something that suggests she's up to no good.
"I'm going to do what I do best." Uh-oh.
She strides forward and makes a little gesture of spellcasting. Her words become more honeyed. She even bats her violet eyes. "Hello, might you be able to help us?" She sounds so sweet. Such a compelling argument. "No one needs to be hurt here. Maybe you can help us get through this little castle."
"Holy shit," Pothy murmurs in Grandfather's voice.
The danger of the moment is lost on Rune until the sound of a bolt firing sounds, causing her to look up towards where Harkashan stands in guard over her. "Uh... thanks, big guy." She looks across to make sure Pothy is okay, and then notes to him, "Better get back to 'Lana, especially if there's arrows being flung around."
Of course, just at that moment, it looks like the Raven's mistress is currently... occupied. Rune rises to her feet, but her eyes are drawn to Cor'lana in that inexplicable way of someone who can't help but be swayed just a little even if it /isn't/ aimed at her. Instead, she mutters an aside to Telamon, "Have I ever told you, your wife is hot?"
"Ah, but is Lava not magical?" Aelwyn asks from Harkashan, with a flash of his teeth. "To even offer research, how anyone say no?" The draconian flicks his tail. He spins his glaive in his hands and lights up the flame, slowly making his way across - pausing to address Rune. "He is quite the blessing."
The Dragoon, the joviality aside, strides soon after the others into the room, his own eyes quickly turn away from the guard towards the rest of the area, scanning for any signs of movement. He lightly steps on his feet, weaving his way around.
"Holy shit!" The guard and Pothy share something in common, it seems. Maybe more than a little, as there IS a bowl of snacks on the table in the room. Unlike the corvid, however, the guard has begun to make a puddle in his boots as he stares at Harkashan. Then Cor'lana swoops in to save the day!
The man crumples and crawls towards her to hug her leg and try to move around behind her for protection. "Don't let it eat me!" Despite trying to cling to the leg, he isn't even looking up at Cor'lana and is still staring at the Makari. A ring of keys is dropped at her feet, though. "Here!"
Auranar picks up the keys and smiles at her sister. "You have such a way with people." She shakes her head, glad that this particular tactic isn't something that she has ever even considered trying. She makes her way cautiously forward. "Maybe ask your new friend if there is anything you want to know about?"
Telamon watches Lana's magic slam down on the hapless guard. "It's your lucky day!" he points out. Looking to his wife, something passes between them, his eyes meeting hers. Then he gestures Simony forward.
"I'm sure this fellow is going to be very cooperative, Temperance," he says with a grin. "Because if he isn't, I would like you to... adjust his thinking. Concussively, if need be." His eyes glint with a hard, cold light.
The Goblin moves forward when beckoned, having been staying out of the way. Her expression is parts amused and quizzical.
At Telamon's voiced suggestion, the cold-iron hammer is pulled from the loop on her belt. Twirling the hammer about it's handle, the head spinning about. She nudges the guard with the head. "This will leave a mark if you don't answer all the questions these lovely ladies wish to ask you."
Cor'lana blinks at the man who is currently hugging her leg for dear life. She is never, _ever_ prepared for the way that her enchantment magic affects people. She leans down and picks up the keyring.
"Show him some leg!" Pothy crows in the voice of a drunken lecher.
"Shut up," Cor'lana says. She smiles brightly at the man. "Can you be a dear and help us find a prisoner? Her name is Verna Lupecyll-Atlon."
"And answer them quickly." Rune chimes in, drawing out her weapons. However, it is not the guard that concerns her, it's the path deeper into the keep that she is keeping an eye, and ear, out on. "I imagine we'll have trouble incoming shortly."
Then, she turns her eyes to Aelwyn, if only for a brief glance, "Aye. He is." Rune looks to Harkashan, "I'd rather save the bleeding for later, when we're dealing something other than hapless guards. Though, I prefer them to be the ones doing the bleeding, wherever possible."
The guard now looks up at Cor'lana and blinks. "I don't know the servants or prisoners by n-name," he stutters. "The manor-servants are there, near the main hall," he points down the hallway he was previously standing in front of. A hall that reveals numerous cell-type doors along each side, yet they are unlocked and swung against the walls open.
He then points to the stairs leading down. "The weak, the slaves, any who displease Our Lady are down there..." Then his eyes snap back to Harkashan as his voice cracks. "... and the monsters below them..."
Auranar's fingers tighten on the keys, her eyes firm. "We rescue Verna first. She is likely below. Nothing matters save that we have her." She will *not* leave Verna's mother alive however. Not this time. She looks at the stairs leading down, knowing that her urge to rush down them is foolish in the extreme. "We have to go. Quickly."
GAME: Harkashan rolls Sense Motive: (19)+24: 43
Harkashan remains... perfectly pleasant as he's being referred to as were he some kind of mere beast or monster. In fact, he pities this man and his small world. To consider those of his lingeage as mere 'creatures' such as that...
Reading into Aura's expression however, he just nods at her and in her place, begins to storm downstairs. "Well, let's go then." Giving her an expose to rush down at top speed right along with him.
"Hmmh," Aelwyn clicks his tongue, twisting his head. "This one supposes one shan't give out the name of an important prisoner to the servants. Temptation," A glance is given to Cor'lana. He flashes his teeth in amusement for a second, before he continues, "Of a rich name can cause many a prison break."
Meanwhile, he turns to look at the stairs as well, moving towards that ominous stairway. "This one agrees," He says with a nod towards Auranar. "Focus on the mission."
Telamon closes his eyes for a moment. "Ni'essa Sky-Singer. You have gifted me much, for which I am grateful. I ask for a drop of your wisdom. Guide my steps to find my sister, that my family might be whole again." He takes a deep breath, and nods to Auranar, starting to move along with the others, praying he is right.
"We're going to find her, Aura. We're going to bring her home. And the gods have mercy on any who stand in our way."
Rune's eyes narrow at the mention of the 'monsters'. The sheer fact that this guard seems to consider Harkashan a monster has her gripping her weapons just a little harder before turning her attention back to the others. "Aelwyn is right, focus on the mission."
With a nod, she moves to follow the others, "Let's go."
Cor'lana smiles brightly at the so-helpful guardsman, even though the implication of his words are not very nice at all. "Oh, you're a very helpful boy, aren't you?" she coos, batting her lashes.
Pothy stares at Cor'lana. "Wow," he mutters.
And then she puts a hand out to the guard. "Be an even better boy and come along with us? So I'm not all-so-lonely."
"Holy _shit_," Pothy says again. He does not endorse these shenanigans.
The guard accompanies Cor'lana, doing his best to ensure that she is between himself and Harkashan and that he is as far away from the Scary Sith(TM) as possible. The stairs descend another level, turning 180 degrees before they end at another gate door (which is easily opened) to yet another guard post. This guardpost is empty, however, and the gate to another hallway to the right is open. Directly across from the stairs is another door, though this one is solid timbers reinforced with much metal.
"Slaves, monsters." The guard helpfully indicates with pointing at the open hallway and then the solid door, respectively.
"No, Telamon. No mercy. From us or the Gods." The Goblin sniffs, and shifts her warhammer to her shoulder, trailing along behind the guard. "I wonder, though... what do people like this consider to be monstrous? Sith? Demons?"
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Perception: (17)+24: 41 GAME: Auranar rolls Perception: (8)+5: 13 GAME: Telamon rolls perception: (13)+33: 46 GAME: Rune rolls perception: (8)+33: 41 GAME: Harkashan rolls Perception: (13)+18: 31 GAME: Simony rolls perception: (6)+14: 20 GAME: Aelwyn rolls perception: (13)+1: 14
Telamon narrows his eyes. "I doubt she's with the monsters. Check the slave pens first." There's also a thought: a slave revolt would cause even -more- chaos in the fortress.
He glances at Simony. "Undead. Aberrations, perhaps. Though frankly, the Charnethi habit of misusing people does tend to create monsters." He peers down the cell-lined hall. Pauses. Squints, and tilts his head. "I see you," he murmurs. "Wherever I go, She is there lighting the way."
The hall to the right is similar to the one on the floor above, yet this one is less kept. And the cell doors are all closed. AS well, there is a general musty stink of unwashed bodies, illness, perhaps death. The hall ends after the cells.
GAME: Ravenstongue casts Dispel Magic. Caster Level: 20 DC: 21 GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d20+sorcerer: (15)+20: 35
Cor'lana catches sight of that shimmer at the end of the cell-lined hall that her husband sees, and she squints. "Illusion," she says softly, before she lifts a hand and begins to incant, fingers working in a complicated motion.
Then she unleashes the magic as she commands, "Dispel!"
She's successful. The shimmering disappears, revealing a solid wooden door that was made to blend into the stone. "Found you another door, Rune!"
GAME: Rune rolls perception+6: (9)+33+6: 48
"A pair of sharp teeth and set of claws can always be intimidating." Aelwyn replies with a flash of his teeth - as macabre as always - before he starts to wrinkle his nose at the smells. Then he pauses, still struggling to either smell or to avoid breathing.
The Dragoon had obviously hard time focusing, since his eyes kept darting towards the heavier of the doors, before he finally relents and asks from the guard. "What is behind that door?" He nods his head towards the metal reinforced door.
Harkashan, kind of 'running ahead' of the gang, stops when he comes across the foul scents below. Even making a sneeze-like sound.
"I smell a deep hunger..."
"Beyond the Heavy Doors I smell the befouled ones of my Kin." He growls. The male then motions for Aelwyn to step back a bit as he bites at the air. "Forgotten." He tries to impress upon the others.
Any good humour Simony had is long gone, the talk of undead and people misused and changed into horrors taking it from her. She gags at the smell of people, her upset expression turning to distress. "All these people. They're sick. Some dying. Some dead.", she whispers. Her glance goes to the guard, and it's not a nice glance at all.
Auranar glances toward the door and has to suppress a soft shudder. "They will all be free soon enough." The words are a soft murmur. A promise to herself. Her eyes fall on the guard dispassionately. He will pay for his crimes in due time...
"With this asshole referring to Makari as monsters, it wouldn't surprise me if they have some of them down there. Either that, or their Forgotten kin." This causes Rune's lips to form into a thin line, already having dealt with enough related to the hunger-driven Makari and their mindless killing sprees as of late. However, she does look to Harkashan, knowing that he has a distinct investment in that regard.
The fact that Harkashan can scent his defiled kin... well, that answers that question. Rather than saying anything, she just rests a hand on his arm. "We'll lay them to rest later."
Then, Cor'lana is calling out, and Rune responds with: "Ooo hidden door."
The next moment, she is over next to the half-sil pair and is looking over the door. "Looks like they may have depended on the illusion to be the main source of protection for this one. No traps, no lock. But... I should open it just to be on the safe side. You know, just incase I missed something."
So, she proceeds to motion the others back a pace or two, and then opens the door.
"Hnngh." Aelwyn replies, nodding his head towards Harkashan. He moves up to the bigger makari and slaps him on the shoulder. "Lost for now, but not forgotten." He ruminates, before he pulls out his ever handy mask of herbs and slides it over his face.
When Rune starts to work on the door, Aelwyn adopts a defensive pose in the middle of everyone again, eyes alert for any danger.
Telamon smiles mirthlessly as his wife strips the illusion away. "Probably depending on the glamer to prevent unwanted entry. But if you were stashing a 'special' prisoner somewhere, this would be how I'd do it." He takes up position next to Lana, curling his fingers slightly as Rune checks the door.
When it opens, he'll be ready to deal with anything on the other side. His eyes flick to the others, nodding as they take up positions as well.
It may be some consolation that most of the nearly two-dozen cells passed are empty. One cell holds three strewn on decaying straw mats on the floor. Initially, all three appear to be corpses until one moans weakly. The stink suggests that either the area is never cleaned, or the significant vacancy is recent.
The door at the end is not a cell door, but a simple, rough wooden door. The room beyond may have once been storage, as it is large in comparsion to the cells. It is dimly lit by luminescent fungi and a flickering mana lamp. A pool of water has collected against one wall from a flow seeping through the same wall.
In the far corner stands a massive portion tree trunk. At first it appears as if it may have grown through the stone until bolts and chains are noted that mount it to the wall, with various tubes stretching from it to a small glowing device mounted on the same wall. The wood is grayed, but not rotten. Surprisingly, a single small shoot with two green leaves sprouts from its center.
The room is furnished with a simple wooden bed, upon which a woman sits, facing the doorway as the door opens. She is exceedingly fair, with a mottled complexion not unlike treebark, though nearly as grey as the trunk in the room. Her hair is short and swept back, yet resembles wilted foliage more than normal hair.
Her voice is flat, yet still somehow melodic. "Why are you here?"
GAME: Telamon rolls knowledge/nature+4: (11)+21+4: 36 GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Knowledge/Nature: (7)+19: 26 GAME: Simony rolls knowledge/nature: (17)+8: 25
Cor'lana stares at the woman for a long moment, regarding her like someone who has just met someone that they recognize but from a long time ago--and then she bows her head gently before the woman. "Fair and noble dryad," she intones in Sylvan, "we are here in search of a prisoner in this fortress. We had not come here expecting to find you--yet find you we did."
She offers the woman a smile. "I am called Cor'lana, and this is my sister, Auranar. We are children of Alud'rigan, the Feathered One," she says, gesturing to herself and her sister. "Know you anything about the other prisoners here?"
Telamon actually recoils slightly, though his expression isn't disgust, but pain at what's been done. Then he recovers, though he doesn't paste on his usual smile. "We come seeking Verna Lupecyll-Atlon, lady of the wood. Though we will free any other goodly folk from their chains if they wish."
"I am called Telamon Lupecyll-Atlon. Do you have a name I may address you with?" His dark eyes, shot with stars, are full of compassion.
None of the cells holds Verna. Auranar checks in spite of the smell. If not here though... then where. She looks at the woman in the last cell, not recognizing her for what she is nor having any idea what she might be. Fae perhaps? It's the best guess she has, and thus she chooses caution in spite of finding the woman locked up on Verna's mother's home. She glances at her sister and her brother-in-law, trying to determine if they know more than she. When Cor'lana speaks, she knows that this is true.
"I find it odd, Telamon. This is a trap.", the Goblin says. "Why hide this door? It's not like the guards don't know it's here. And surely they go in there... to ... well who knows?" The groan from someone who she thought dead gives her pause and she trembles. "I can't. I won't. We're taking these people too. Good lord, someone needs to come back through Charn with an army and..." Simony lets that thought slide at the sound of the melodic voice.
She eyes the woman, then the tree, and it's shoot, ... hope in the darkness.
"Did you wish for some daylight? Would it help you?", she wonders of the dryad, in the same language, if a little accented and squeaky. She looks to Telamon. "This is the last straw, Tel, I am going to start pulling things down til I find what's holding this place up."
Once it's clear that the door and the step beyond it are safe, Rune holds it open to allow the others entrance. However, the quiet from their surroundings leaves her suspecting that they may not quite be in the right place. One hand reaches up to rub beneath her nose, trying to avoid the urge to cough as she raises a bit of dark fabric up and over her mouth and nose.
She keeps a step back when the others look into the far room, her ears twitching at the tones of the Sylvan tongue which... up until recently would have been foreign to her. For now, she listens. She can do little to help the prisoners other than working the locks, if asked, so her best position is closer to the door they came from, watching so that the group does not end up trapped.
Aelwyn grits his teeth as even more prisoners are revealed. Slaves, monsters, Forgotten, now even dryads? "Tch." He shakes his head - he did not understand the language spoken, but that wasn't new to him. There were far better silver tongues to tend to such matters such as diplomacy in this little slice of unburied hell.
"She raises a valid point," Aelwyn says with a nod towards Auranar. "We are now in the prison cells with who knows which; and an unknown force coming for us." He lets out an hiss in annoyance. "And we still do not know where our objective lies."
The dryad's expression relaxes at the introductions and she peers at some more thoroughly a moment before she responds in kind. "Some call me Neriae. I know much of this keep. My Lady knows I cannot flee, so does not restrict me as the other slaves. I will help you... but there is a price. I require your help in return, cousins. By your oath."
"The have Forgotten themselves. We have not Forgotten them." Harkashan answers Aelwyn as that hand slaps on his shoulder. His tail swatting at the ground in irritated fashion.
There's a heated huff that blasts from his nostrils at this, Rune drawing his attention. His head turning away and glancing at the big hunking door while the others are leading them elsewhere. Away from their kin who are incarcerated, not just within this prison, but outside of their own minds.
He's leaving them to speak to what they appear to have identified as a Dryad of sorts.
Cor'lana looks between Telamon and Auranar with a crease of worry on her face. They all know what it means to make an oath as fae--and what it means to break an oath. "I will not make this oath if either of you have any reason to object," she says.
Pothy shivers. "It's up to you," he croaks in the voice of an old man, but he seems absolutely rather against the idea. The bird has experienced enough pain and misery by way of an oath.
Telamon raises his hand. "My lady Neriae," he says formally. "My wife cannot swear without my consent. However, I have had negotiations with your kindred in the Alexandros wilds before." He offers Neriae a smile. "I will swear, with one condition: that this oath does not make me unfaithful to my bride, or my goddess. But I suspect you desire neither of those. What would you ask?"
Auranar looks at the other woman solidly. Unflinching and unafraid in spite of the danger she knows lurks in such a situation. "It depends then, on the oath." After all, an oath to give the woman a bit of water is one thing. An oath to kill someone innocent? Quite another. Thus she echoes Telamon's sentiment in some kind. "For I will no more betray my wife, nor the gods I serve than my brother-in-law. Nor my kin."
"I would offer my services also, if it does not make me betray family, friends, or the oath and service to my deity. Nor a duty I have been tasked to, the ... removal of a demon.", the Goblin says. "If you would have me."
For now, Rune leaves matters of Fae oaths to those with far more experience in that regard. Though, there is some measure of curiousity there. For a moment, that need to find out more about strange creatures wars against her need to stand beside her mate.
The later wins out, for the time being. Rune steps out, but leaves the door propped with one foot as she keeps an eye on her Makari partner. "We'll come back for them. If not today, then as soon as we can." She tries to offer some reassurances.
Aelwyn nods his head towards Harkashan. "This one feels it too," He tells him with an annoyed swish of his tail, "And this one has no desire to see one's kin, as distant as they be, to bleed like such." The Dragoon glances at the talk of oaths and what not, but he has heard enough about making oaths to strange creatures to leave it to professionals, as well.
Neriae regards her mortal-kin and their allies a moment before she makes a clicking noise with her tongue and speaks now in trade, head turning briefly to the trunk in the corner. "It is safe. Come." Then comes a peep from the trunk and a sudden skittering of shadow along the wall.
The small thing moves briskly along the wall to the bed and then up Neriae's back. A small ebon-scaled head rests nestled in her hair whilst tiny claws clutch. Large, wide eyes peer at everyone in worry and/or wonder from the blackscaled Makari younging of maybe three summers. It is slender and small, likely poorly nourished, but otherwise appears well.
Neriae looks back to the group and continues her words in trade. "You will take this child from this place, see that he is nurtured to grow and bloom. That is the oath I require."