By the Tornmawr Bank

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Revision as of 21:16, 7 June 2023 by Riptide (talk | contribs) (Created page with "<div style="padding:5px; background-color:#e7eaea;"> ==Log Info== *Title: By the Tornmawr Bank *Emitter: Ravenstongue *Characters: Ravenstongue, Rune *Place: Banks of the Tornmawr, Alexandria City</div> ''Bank of the Tornmawr, just after noon.'' The white clouds roll by in towering formations in the blue sky that hangs overhead in the heat of this Firetide Gilday. While the heat is certainly one to be cursed and lamented by those who are dreaming o...")
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Log Info

  • Title: By the Tornmawr Bank
  • Emitter: Ravenstongue
  • Place: Banks of the Tornmawr, Alexandria City

Bank of the Tornmawr, just after noon.

The white clouds roll by in towering formations in the blue sky that hangs overhead in the heat of this Firetide Gilday. While the heat is certainly one to be cursed and lamented by those who are dreaming of winter, it's not nearly so bad by the banks of the Tornmawr close to the Market District, where just being by the water feels cooler and calmer than the rest of the city.

It's no wonder, then, that a certain white-feathered friend is flying up in the sky, and there's a certain violet-eyed sorceress who stands at the shores. Her waves of black hair whip about, and combined with the white dress that she wears that billows in the wind, it'd be an impressive sight.

If it weren't for the fact that Cor'lana's currently trying to hold a small journal and write at the same time, mumbling curses under her breath as the pages keep flipping away from her. "How is it that the sand and the sea provide inspiration, yet the wind is doing its damndest to keep me from writing down the inspiration?" Cor'lana mutters more loudly.

Rune has been absent from Alexandria for a number of weeks, though not without notice or reason. An entire group had gone to Am'shere to address various issues there, including smugglers and strange behavior on the part of a certain lava-scaled cleric. However, certain tasks have brought Rune back through the portal, at least for a time.

Tasks that seem to have brought her into the Market district. One of Rune's favorite places is to perch up on the bridge and watch the boats go by, which is likely how she spotted the white-feathered raven in the skies and a certain beautiful half-elf sitting river side.

"They wouldn't call it art if there wasn't some suffering involved." Rune answers the question that Cor'lana had left out in the wind. The rogue is quite good at being quiet upon her approach. She perches up on a rock, crouched and watching with a curious expression. "Need some help? I can hold it for you, if you want."

GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Bluff: (17)+25: 42

Some people would startle upon being approached quietly. And yet Cor'lana only bats away some strands of her hair out of her face, turning to face Rune with a bright smile. "Leirune," she says softly. "I'd take the offer, but the poetry I was attempting to work on was... somewhat personal in nature. Moreso than usual, that is. Most poetry is personal by nature, but..."

There's a small quirk of Cor'lana's lips as her violet eyes flicker out briefly to the waters that flow in the Tornmawr. "This is where Telamon proposed to me," she says. "Soon, it'll be a year and a half since we agreed to court each other. It may seem silly to mark the half-years of such an occasion, but every happy moment that I can steal away from the despair that my enemies would drive me to is one that I cherish greatly. And so... I was attempting to write a poem to give to Telamon in a few weeks' time."

She shuts the journal and stows away her charcoal pencil. "How have you been?" she asks. "Well, I hope."

"So maybe you're the Crimson Pen." Rune's voice is lighthearted as she offers a soft laugh. "I've heard your off-the-cuff poetry, I can't imagine what the steamy sort might be like." She is most certainly teasing.

"It's alright, I'm not the sort to pry." Pushing up to her feet, the rogue steps closer, but still keeping a respectful distance. "I've always loved reading, especially elaborate tales of adventure. Never developed my mother's knack for storytelling, though. Maybe it skipped a generation."

She quiets slightly at the location's meaning. "It's not silly..." There is a gentleness in Rune's voice as she fiddles with the singular ring that she wears. It doesn't have that deep a meaning, but there is meaning there, none the less. "It's important for us to cling to every moment we've got, especially with the shadows that loom over us."

Toeing once at the sand, Rune gives a small nod, "I've been well. Talked with Harkashan about his changing behavior and what it means. Discovered a bit more about it. Apparently he has something similar to you and possibly my mother. Some sort of bond." Then, with a sigh, she rubs at the back of her neck, "I've got an appointment with some Fey creatures in Am'shere as well, in hopes they might know more about the Golden Fate. That's actually why I'm back for a few days. I needed supplies."

Supplies, in this case, seems to be a pouch that rattles with the sound of hard candies, which she pats once.

Cor'lana huffs in an amused way with the Crimson Pen remark. "If you believe all of the Crimson Pen books that have been penned about me, I'm a seductress with a harem of men at my beck and call. Some call me the 'Temptress of Alexandria' even though I've had only one partner in any sense of the word in my life--who would be the man I'm married to. Such is the way of rumors. I try not to let them bother me. If anything--I wish it was the only thing I had to worry about."

Then the sorceress's expression turns to a thoughtful one. "A bond. Is it..." And she gestures to the mark on her chest, partially visible through the neckline of the dress. "Something that he's bound by blood to? If so, send him my way. I can teach him how to draw on the connection."

Her violet eyes flicker to the pouch of hard candies at the sound they make from Rune patting the bag. "Fey creatures in Am'shere--I'm afraid I'm entirely unfamiliar with Grandfather's people in that locale. But they exist everywhere in some capacity. People make the mistake of believing that they have only touched the Lucht, the elves, the oruch--but they are everywhere and their whispers linger in this world just as they do in Quelynos and beyond."

"Why does it have to be a harem of just men, though? You should really branch out." Rune adds to her teasing with a wink. The fiddling with her ring causes a soft laugh, "I suppose I'm more scandelous than you are in that regard. I have Harkashan and that's not going to change, but I also have Jacob who fancies me." She sighs, "Not that I haven't already made it clear to him that I can't be what he wants me to be."

Rune seems glad enough not to delve further into that particular problem, and instead focuses on topics of bonds and Fey creatures, instead. "I think so. From what I understand, it's some sort of dragon and he may have been promised to it before he even hatched." She draws a hand up, pulling dyed strands behind her ear, "He's still a bit unsettled about it. Struggling with figuring out what memories are his own and which ones belong to the Dragon and his previous chosen."

Then, her blue eyes look over to Cor'lana again, "I've heard they're called the Chaneque, and that they can be devious and bloodthirsty. But... also that they have a liking for sweets." She pats the bag of candies again, "Picked up some candies, but also some fresh honey. Murder is going to help me get some animal blood to bring as well." She gives a sort of uncertain shrug, "I'm hoping that's enough to trade for information on the Golden Fate, if they have it at all."

Cor'lana smirks at the first topic, but like Rune, doesn't delve further into it. The things that Rune says about Harkashan's dragon are, however, things that catch her attention, the smirk turning into a much more curious one with a glint of recognition in her eyes. "That is... strikingly similar to my own case," she says. "I was promised to my Grandfather before I was born. Due to his... nature, he falls into fits of madness by despair if he is left alone too long. My paternal family elected to send whoever the 'firstborn's firstborn' happens to be when Grandfather is ready for a housemate--but thanks to my sire's disregard for family tradition and manipulation from his brother's wife, he neglected to inform my mother of this fact or that Grandfather had put in the request when she was still pregnant with me."

She folds her arms and huffs again. "Which is how Grandfather was unfairly pegged by my mother as a monster, and why she blasted him with magic and teleported away with me. The reason why I don't live in Quelynos now with him is because Telamon and I have promised that one day, when the both of us are older and ready to move on from the mortal plane, we'll move in with him--and give him more grandchildren to fawn over and visit before then. Which is a long-winded way of saying that generational pacts are quite powerful and quite important... And may be more to Harkashan's advantage than one might think. There is happiness to be found in such a thing."

The notion of animal blood for the chaneque doesn't even inspire an iota of surprise in Cor'lana's face. What she does offer is, however, probably surprising. "Some fae appreciate an offer of letting them drink your blood," she says, in a way that suggests she knows from first-hand experience. "I only advise it with the ones who are smaller of physical stature. The larger ones... may drink you dry, and with very little remorse. The initial offering of sweets and animal blood may be enough to draw their attention--but to buy information, you may need to offer that." Again, spoken with the weight of knowing.

GAME: Rune rolls bluff: (6)+11: 17

"That... is certainly one complicated family story." Rune lifts a brow as she takes a few steps closer and eventually moves to settle down on the shore next to Cor'lana. "I'd heard a little about Fey sometimes asking for boons like that. First-born children." Her lip quirks, "Not something I'm terribly worried about, myself."

Something in the idea of Cor'lana and Telamon retreating from the mortal world casts a shadow of sadness across Rune's eyes, but she takes a deep breath and lets it out, "That will be a sad day for the world, I think. So I'm certainly hoping it won't be any time soon." Rune may just be a bit selfish in that regard, not wanting to lose friends to places she can not reach. She doesn't have the sort of magic that allows for shifting to other planes.

Clearing her throat, Rune rubs at her forearm, "I kind of figured that would be the sort of sacrifice they would want." Shaking her head, "I'd rather pour blood out into a chalice than have anything trying to feed from me directly." There is a subtle shiver at the idea. "If that's what needs to happen, then so be it. I knew a long time ago that I'd go to the ends of Ea for answers, what's a little bloodshed along the way."

Cor'lana offers a small and sympathetic smile, catching the sadness in Rune's eyes and words. "It will not be for well over a century, by my estimation," she says. "Tel and I have lives ahead of us--places to see, stories to be written, a family to be started. None of that can happen if we move in with Grandfather well before we're ready. Ideally--we'd like our grandchildren to be grown before we think of doing so."

There's a moment where Cor'lana regards Rune's clear unease with the concept, before she slips out a sewing needle from the sleeve of her dress. "If the notion of letting them feed from your skin is too disagreeable--then I suggest pricking yourself with a needle or a knife, and letting them feed from the blade. So long as it is not cold iron, of course."

Rune gives a quick, shy glance, those blue eyes giving away far too much despite the fact that she often tries to keep such feelings to herself. There is relief, there, though. "Good." She admits, fidgeting with the buckle of a leather strap. The rogue hardly ever sits still. "Hopefully I'll be a gray-haired old woman by then, and I'll have ample opportunity to spoil your kids rotten."

As Cor'lana draws out a sewing needle, Rune tilts her head. In response, she reaches into one boot, pulling out a neatly hidden dagger and flips it in her hand. "I think I should be able to manage. I plan on bringing Harkashan along, so he should be able to make sure any blood-letting doesn't get too severe."

Then, after a pause, she asks, "So, in regards to our werewolf problem." She neatly shifts topics, "Do we have any updates? I mean... I still have those plans we could try in order to fuck with Blue Moon, but I'm more the idea person, not the right person to make them work."

"You can bring my husband along if he's amenable to going to Am'shere," Cor'lana says with a slight smirk, "but I may stay at home here in Alexandria. The... situation with the 'problem', as you put it, has taken an interesting turn."

She looks to Rune and drops her voice. There's no one around, and the sorceress can see the invisible, anyway, but it's worth the caution. "We have a deal with Dace Zinskas. It turns out that Marsward is a servant of the fiend known as V--not working with it, but in servitude to the entity--and that his ambition is to turn over the Red Maw, and the god tied to it, to V's portfolio. Dace Zinskas, being a devout follower of Caracoroth, can no longer abide working with the man--especially since Marsward had tried to get him to bring back Zalgiman as one of the undead against his will. As such, Zalgiman's cremains have been relocated elsewhere in a safe location, and I have allocated additional measures should they be stolen, or if Marsward finds alternative means to bring the man back against his will."

While mention of Zalgiman had, in the past, caused Cor'lana to be moved to emotion--sometimes into tears--it appears this time, she is not. Perhaps the tides have changed. Perhaps, like the Tornmawr itself, the waves of grief are no longer as violent. Whatever the case, Cor'lana adds, "We have agreed to supply Dace Zinskas with a scroll for a spell that will allow Dace Zinskas to destroy the portal and ruin Marsward's plans. However, we are not intending to let Dace have total control of the Red Maw. That plan is still ongoing--I have the scroll, but I have not yet delivered it to Dace. In the meantime--I think those plans regarding the Blue Moon are well worth pursuing, and if myself or Telamon can be of aid, please let us know. He's a diplomat's son, after all, and I'm... able to convince people by charm or magic. Both, really." She's selling herself short, honestly.

"It sounds like your husband's gifts may be better left to dealing with the situation here, though he is more than welcome to come with." Rune replies, seeming thoughtful. There is a lot to take in, a lot of details in the ever-changing landscape of threats that face Alexandria. "I hate being away for so long, it feels like there are more important things we should be doing."

Worry is evident in Rune's blue eyes as she takes in the deal that Cor'lana has laid out.It is concerning. Her own voice drops quieter, "Are you sure that Dace can be trusted? I mean... as far as trust extends for this particular problem." Her brows furrow. "What's the possibility that he wants the scroll for some other purpose and he's just using you to get it?"

Rune flicks her dagger in her hand, doing a few little tricks with it as an idle motion. She just can't help fidgeting, it seems. "Maybe Telamon and Harkashan can work together on trying to convince the inns and pubs to stop carrying the ale. I think they'd probably make a good team." Then, she slides her dagger back into her boot. "Maybe you and I could work together on spreading some rumors? I thought maybe rumors of people getting sick, or finding rat bits in the ale, or something equally disgusting."

"I trust Dace in that he hates Marsward and Marsward's intentions for the avatar of his god," Cor'lana replies. "This particular spell that he wants is useful really only for destroying a magical item or an artifact--and only one. Meaning he doesn't gain much from destroying the totems, but he does gain everything from destroying Marsward's ability to control the Red Maw. I've gotten to be better than I've ever wanted to be at discerning people's pains, and... He carries one where Marsward is concerned. One that I share, in a way."

She looks contemplative. "Spreading rumors about the ale itself? Yes. That I could do. I am capable of magically disguising myself. I could easily walk into any establishment as someone else and spread all manner of rumors. I can't go as myself, simply due to the fact I am known to the werewolves. You... Aren't quite as known to them yet. That's an advantage we can use."

Finally, Pothy sails down from the sky and lands on Cor'lana's shoulder. "Hello!" he greets Rune, this time in Cor'lana's voice. His tail wags up and down. He is a happy bird who is happy to see a friend.

"The enemy of my enemy..." Rune bites at her lower lip, but she has to trust that her friends know what they are doing. "It may very well be worth playing one against the other so long as it benefits us. Both will still be strong foes to deal with, but hopefully we can take Marsward down a few notches."

For a long moment, Rune seems to be taking in her half-sil friend, likely looking for those subtle signs of upset that usually came with this sort of discussion. Especially with the prospect that they might try to ressurect someone she cared for against his will. Yet, she sees no sign of the vulnerability that usually lingered there. "Are you okay?" She asks, likely trying to double check her own appraisal.

Then, Pothy comes down and makes his greeting. "Well, hello there, Sir Pothy. Have you been enjoying your perch?" She offers to him the same way one might talk to another person, rather than an animal. "I've been gathering some berries I thought you'd like from Am'shere, but I'm afraid I didn't bring them with me on this trip."

Then, looking to Cor'lana, she nods, "I can certainly hide some of my more noticeable features as well." She pauses, thoughtful, "Maybe Slixvah could give me a hand. I know she's particularly good with disguises."

GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Perform/Oratory: (8)+23: 31

The question's asked. There's something in Cor'lana's eyes for a moment--and it may not register immediately, but it's surprise. This is then followed by an expression that probably makes little sense at all: a soft and affectionate smile.

"He is answered and he is free;
And so gently he waits in repose
Where the Halls keep him well
And he awaits the world beyond."

The poetry leaves her effortlessly as per usual, and there's a twinkle in her violet eyes. "Apologies. I... I had a communing with my sister-by-bond, the Mourner Verna, with the goddess Vardama. At the end, I asked if Zalgiman was at peace in the Halls--and instead I was able to speak to him for a short time."

She looks out at the water, watching the gentle lap of the Tornmawr at the banks. "I received what I needed. I feel guilt no longer--I am free, and he wants me to be free. He wants me to be happy. He wants me to be in love with Telamon and to have a family with him. And so--I am at peace. At least on that regard. I am, in some regards, still the tempest."

She looks back to Rune with a smile. "He's been in love with the perch," she says. "It's funny. His nest, as long as I've ever known him, has been a stack of books. But he adores that perch. It's been a great comfort to him--"

And as she says that, Pothy takes flight into the air with a call. Cor'lana sighs. "To the point where it seems he's tired of me trying to write romantic poetry and would like to go home to the perch. I should probably indulge him on that one."

She returns the sewing needle to her sleeve and smiles widely. "Let me know where and when we strike first," she says. "I think I know just the disguise."

Though Rune did not know Zalgiman in life, she knows the pain that his passing had caused to someone she cares about, and that is all that matters. Through words, she knows that little bit of Cor'lana's heart, so she lifts a hand and touches the other half-sil's shoulder gently. "I'm glad, but... if you do ever need to cry again, I'm always a shoulder if you need it."

Then, the concern fades and a smile returns. "Good. I'm not much of a craftsman but I know a lot of people, so it's a little bit a piece of every person who helped along the way." Little pieces which all come together to make a stronger whole. "I just wanted to give him something to call his own since you all lost so much."

And then, in a flutter of white feathers, it seems that their time is done for the day. "I shouldn't keep you, then." Getting to her feet, Rune dusts off some of the sand and dirt from the edge of the river. "I'll come up with some ideas and let you know. I might have a word with Slixvah first and see if they can recommend something to help with the disguises, at least for me, anyways. But soon. I don't want to sit on anything."

With that, she raises a hand in farewell. "We'll talk again soon."

OOC

Pothy's new perch:
<OOC> Rune shoots a quick desc of it: The perch is made of white driftwood gathered from the Tornmawr river. There is a heavy wooden base that it is attached to. Both base and branches are carved with swirling patterns. The main branches are wrapped with simple leather and leather cord for better grip from bird feet. From the taller, shorter branches, a series of toys dangle. Some are shreddable wood blocks, feathers, and bells.