Charming Staff and Catching Up

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-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-<* 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.
                               EXTRAS: +view                                 

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Braelnoir       A tall, pale Acanian woman, branded in silver.        0s   3h
Cesran          A tall dark-skinned man                               16s  2m
Morgan          Short pixy like half elf with fair skin               6s   24m

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An Artifice-driven Boggle Board

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Out <O>

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Cesran opens the door and slips in before more of the cold wind that's blowing outside can get in. He shivers as he heads over to stand before the fire. He leans on his staff for a bit before he heads to an empty table and takes a seat. When one of the servers come over to take his order he orders a bowl of stew, some biscuits and a green hornet to drink. He sets the staff behind him and it remains standing straight up, it's dragon head looking at the back of the man's head. He reaches into his pack and pulls out a book, which he opens and starts to read.


Morgan is sitting at a table with a few big books in front of her. To her side is what might be her meal but a small cat sized dragon is eating it. Every once in a while she reaches over and pets betwen its wings.


Cesran continues to read as the crystal head of the staff turns to regard Morgan and the cat sized dragon at the other table. The sounds of clearing throat comes from the staff and Cesran looks back to the staff. He follows its gaze over to the other table and he closes his book. Cesran puts it away and goes to get up. He grabs his staff and heads over to Morgan's table. "Hello there, my staff couldn't help but notice your familiar, I'm guessing. She wanted to be introduced to it."


Braelnoir descends the stair not long after, absently rubbing the ruddy copper scales spiralling around and down her left arm. Her expression is drawn, and whatever itch seems resolved as that hand rises to stifle her yawn about halfway down to the main floor. She scans the place a little more businesslike than her usual, but smiles on sight of the familiar Sage and the little dragon, who get a, "Hey, luvs, 'ow's things?" on her aproach. As the little caster seems to have a gentleman caller, she smies a mite impishly, but continues on up to her other side, "Hiya."


Morgan smiles as she looks up "He is not mine, but my friend that likes for me to buy him food." The Dragon looks up and sends a mental Message to Cesran "Hello and hello to the staff... I do not know how to talk to smart mages stuff." Morgan then looks to the staff "A intelgient item I have not seen one in a few years." Once Brae enters "Hello my love please join us."


Cesran turns towards the well armored woman who comes over and he nods politely to her, "Hello there. That is some nice armor that you have there." He turns back towards Morgan. "It's nice to meet all three of you. I'm Cesran and this is Ral-sara." He introduces himself and his staff. "I will relay what you say to her, so just speak normally. When she feels comfortable she will speak for herself." He gives a smile, "It's quite an interesting story of how she came to be, at least interesting to me."


"Thanks, luv. Mostly keeps me from getting tore up to bad." she replies with a wink. The explaination about the staff knits her brow a mite, prompting a little list of her head to the side, "So.... someone's soul stuck in yer staff, or...?" she inquires with cautious curiosity.


Morgan chuckles to the question that Brae asked "Well some of them were made like that but not all, and its mostly a small number." She then looks to the man that approached "I am Morgan Lore master of the city and this is Whisper my buddy, And Braelnoir here is my girlfriend." The dragon looks more to the staff as it is trying to figure out where its brain is."


Cesran grins, "And may it continue to in the future." He shakes his head, "No. No one's soul is trapped in here. I actually constructed her. I'm from the Jade Islands and first learned the acrane arts there. It's a tradition that when a wizard feels they have enough magical prowess that they construct a staff to reflect that. She's made from a branch of living darkwood that the local druid circle gifted me for all the help I provided to them over the years. The topper of the staff is made from a rare crystal, along with my former bonded item. Combine all together they became Ral-sara." He goes to take a seat, "It's nice to meet you all. I've been away from the city for a couple of years. I didn't know we had a lore master of the city. Perhaps you can help catch me up as to what's going on."


Braelnoir turns to Morgan as she speaks, allaying some disconcertions about being trapped as a staff for all time. Brr. The Corpse Armors still spice up her nightmares. The Korite gives a nod, a little more of an easy smile parting her lips, "Well, then, well met, Ral-sara!" The merc twists in her seat to regard the half elven server, "Hey, Kaeryn, trouble ya fer m'usual an...." A look to the others, "What'll ya have, m'luvs?"


Morgan nods "Well I would be good one to tell you about most things then went on. But tell me where you been, I was thinking of taking a trip to explore different places." she looks to Brae "Maybe take you and Cyro with me."


Cesran is about to speak when the staff speaks up first, "Well met." She says in a sassy tone of voice, "Don't mind Cesran, all that knowlege in his head and he can't remember half of it." Cesran chuckles, "But eventually I do connect all the dots and it's usually the right answer." He says says the food and drink he ordered comes over, "Thank you." He tells the server, "As to where I was I had exhuasted all the research that I could do within the city when dealing with Assumit and the Lich Mandy. Are they still a problem?" He asks and then waves his hand, "Wait let me answer your question first. I left the city to do more research on them from other libraries around the world and well..." He looks rather sheepish as his staff pipes up, "The fool got lost in his own research." Cesran nods, "Yes I'm afraid to say that I became so focused on the research that I forgot to check back in with the city to see how they were faring. I'm also afraid to say that my research although fasinating to see how other cultures from around the world dealt with demons and liches, didn't really produce any substative answers beyond what I had found here." His staff snorts, "Three years among musty old tomes and damp crypts and nothing to show for it." Cesran shakes his head, "Not true, I made plenty of friends with other librarians and researchers across the globe."


Morgan hmms "Well I was part of the group that killed the Lich Mandy. She came back to cause Sandy some trouble but that was short lived." she motions for a drink to be refilled and she adds "yes Sir scaly but here would like a refill of water also." calling the dragon that gets a his.


Braelnoir takes all that in and gives a low, soft whistle, "Well, that's been'n awful lotta studyin'." she concedes with some more respect for the endeavor than many with her particular embellishments would commonly ascribe. To white, "Ain't heard nothin' new outta them, so I'magine ya put'm down proper." Morgan's offer seems slightly troubling for some reason or other, but she smiles it off, "Sounds great, luv. Will run't past herm but we have some... biz we gotta iron out, first."


Cesran smiles as he tears up the biscuits and he puts them into the stew, "Good to hear. I'm glad she was finally put down for good. Hopefully everyone survived? Was Jareth there? Oh how I've missed my friends." He nods as he starts to eat, "Yes it was, too much studying, but I had become obsessed with finding a way counter Asumit's power and finding a way to destroy Heth. I was part of a party that went forward in time to try to do just that, destroy Heth, but when we did there were runes on his bones and it only made matters worse. We were pulled back, but I thought that given enough time and research I could figure it out...and well three years later I realized that if I didn't stop and come back there might not be a city left to come back to. So what problems plague Alexandria these days?"


Morgan looks to the time as she says "Oh you time travled also. I had the luck to appear here when this great city was just a small village. But I have to go I have a item I am enchanting for a friend." She gives Brae a kiss on the lips in aloud "Come by the guild some time Cesran and I will ceatch you up on every thing you want to know." looking to Brae "If you want to spend the night at my place please do stop by."


Braelnoir hmmm's over a drink from her beer, taking a healthy swig, then sets the tankard down. She smiles up at Morgan as she makes to leave and gently lays a hand on her arm, "I'll catch up, be safe, luv." She turns then to the magus and explains, "Well, there were a couple plagues about, well one plague an one sonofa...." ahem, "An artificer gettin's jollies on folk. Fae queen, the Endless Winter'r something like that, sent out a magic plague that made folk cough up black slime that'd attack an' infect anyone magical. If ya cast, you puked a slime, if someone cast on you, ya puked a slime." She shakes her head, "Artificer was hittin people with a thingamajig, some spook-tech he stole from a friend o'mine, made people turn into random stuff. Had me fer a long time."


Cesran nods, "Yes, but only that time I believe. Interesting I'd like to hear about it sometime. I'm sure you must have had historians stalking you to hear what Alexandria was like back then." He nods, "I understand I'll have to get back into enchanting myself. I will, I do want to be caught up on what's going on in the city." Ral-sara pipes up, "Have a good night." He listens intently to Braelnoir, "Artificer, Fae queen, endless winter. Magic plague that makes you puke if you cast spells. Noted. Is that plague still going on? I wouldn't want to make someone puke up a slime or be puking up slime myself. I'm glad you are better. Reminds me of a cursed item I picked up one time, a quill that robbed me of my sleep. It was horrible."


"Maah, naah, M'sister an'a bunch a big swingers managed ta..." here, she seems at a lost to properly compress the dynamics of the story she wasn't directly part of, but she tries, "Managed ta turn aside an Archdemon under'r controll... kind of... and set the..." she frowns, takes a big swig of her beer, then, "Sorry, luv, still gettin' m'head around this part. The real queen is a fae kid, been stuck in a.. sleep spell or... somethin' fer Gods know how long, right? Well.. Her... anger, curiosity an' imagination run amuck an' made what we thought was the Queen, and it concocted all her schemes, the slimes I guess were... Cryo'd have ta explain that part'm afraid. Long story short, they woke the real her up, and she called off the plague an her demons or whatever got sent off except that big one who picked a fight with all the fae an' all th'Heavens while he was at it. Ain't heard anythin' bout him, since."


Cesran takes a drink of his green hornet as he listens to Braelnoir's rendition of the story, "Thank you I really appreciate you filling me in on what's going on. Any information is good information to let me know how I can lend assistance to the city. A Fae Queen huh? Really sorry I missed that. It sounded intense. Have any more giagantic war golems shown up? Those were some intense battles." He leans back a bit, "I hope it's a long while before I have to fight an giant adamantine or mithril golem again. Nasty fights especially for a spell caster."


Braelnoir shakes her head, "Not.... here." she takes up her utensiles and deftly begins to work on her seared steak, getting it cut into bite sized chunks, though of a largely random shape, "Outside Merkabah, I guess some goblin kid got turned inta a giant.... artifice... dinosaur golem thing... ended up having ta get put down, but I only ever this much detail on the story I'm afraid."

The Korite gives that a moment to percolate, mulling over the idea of giant golems running amuck, but shakes it off, "Anyway, fer a while merkabah'd opened up, an' there's stuff leakin out causing trouble, or folks going in an... runnin inta the sorta horrors as'd explain why the place shoulda been wiped out a lot sooner'n it was."


Cesran aws as he hears about a giant artifice dinosaur, "I'm really sorry that I missed that. I wounder how celestial T-rexes would have done against something like that. Must have been an amazing battle." He says excitedly just thinking about it. He finishes up his stew and ahs softly, "I missed the stew here. Something about the combination of spices that they get just right." He hmms softly, "That's not good, those flying cities are a great sourse of knowledge, but not worth the price although I expect many many artificers would disagree with me."


Braelnoir nods, "Oh yeah!" she says, leaning forward a little bit with a particularly Korite gleam in her eye, "That was probably a shield smasher ta be sure!" A sigh, then, "Shame about the kid... sounds like whatever done'm wasn't like me, it did'm body an'soul. Merkaban black tech from the sound, some old relic or somethin." She pops a bite in her mouth and chews, swallows and "Oh yeah, the stews are great. There gunpowder chilli ain't bad, neither. The thing what got me, what m'friend was workin on an' got stolen.... that was a nuisance, but only cuz th'bastard was just hittin people at random. Kaelyn, my friend, not Kaeryn th'waitress who's really friendly." a pause to let the meaning sink in and she continues, "Well, Kaelyn figgered if the gizmo was able to be properly used, it could help folks adapt ta wierd situations or needs. Haven't heard out of her in way too long though."


Cesran grins, "Sounds like it was, nothing to get the blood pumping like mortal danger. I'm sorry to hear that a child was caught up in the black tech and was not able to be recovered. All the more reason to stay away from it and for that awful science to be forgotten." He chuckles, "Just stay away from open flames for a while after you have the gunpowder chili." He chuckles and nods a little as he gets Braelnoir's meaning, "I've heard the bawdy talk of others about Kaeryn. I'm glad your friend was able to turn you back to normal. I am familiar with spells that do the same, I wouldn't just go around using them randomly. It can be quite a tricky spell to undo. Magic is a two edged sword, used in the right way it's a blessing and in the wrong way it's a bane, for most spells, not all though. Some you just want to stay away from all together."


Braelnoir frowns, and shakes her head, "Well.. she wasn't. Managed ta do't myself after things started ta go wrong. I's in Merkabah, run inta some nasty work. we found some little fishies that... ater magic or something." A shrug, "Well, druid friend o'mine ended up adoptin' a bucket full of'm and now she's got'm their own little pool. Used them later on ta break the artifice effect, but, well.. I ended up not quite what was before." She fluffs her silver locks and glances at the silver gleam of her shoulder, "An... I dunno if it turned me all magical now, or if it just unlocked something from before."


Cesran makes a face as he hears about the fish that eat magic, "Well I'll have to be careful of little fishes, I don't want my magic to be eaten up." He gives a knowing nod, "That's one of the problems with transmutations it might not go quite right." He looks over to the magical gleam, "And interesting after effect. It might have, sometimes to unlock our true potential something had to change in an unexpected way. Or perhaps there is no true potential and this is just path to walk down, different from the one you were originally on, but no better or worse than the first one, just different."


Braelnoir considers that for a moment or two, then, "It takes'm a while ta eat a big spell. Makin' a coin glow? That kinda spell takes a big school, say, two, three minutes ta eat." She gives a little shrug and, "Never tried bigger 'chants, except me an a goblin, both tryin ta get rid of the transformations. Never asked him how long it took him, he done solved his pretty quick. But I had a lot more of the effect ta eat through. Took me days ta get it.... an I thought I screwed up bad near the end."


Cesran rubs his chin, "Good to know, but I'll still try to avoid them if I can. I'd rather not have anything interfering with my magics. Perhaps because he was phsycailly smaller there was less spell to work through or you might have been hit with a more complex version of the spell. I'd say that your efforts were well worth it." He smiles over at his staff, "I can understand that feeling, when I first crafted my staff I thought that I had messed up when she started to talk, it took me a while to realize that even though I had not intended my staff to have intelligence it was a gift that she did."


Braelnoir nods, working through another few bites as he explains, her eyes sweeping over the staff again, but she washes things down with her beer before she deigns to reply. "Thank you." that with a smile, then, she sobers just a little, "Run across things a couple times now, souls trapped, aware, bound ta serve ferever. Ain't no way ta be." she says thoughtfully, "Locked outta the Hall fer always. Glad that ain't the case, here."


Cesran finishes off his drink and sets his dishes aside to be picked up by the server. "You are right there, freedom is the right of all sentient being. Hopefully you were able to find a free them. Nothing should interfere with the Grey Lady's judgement of souls. If you want to go to the Hall of Heroes and you are worthy then that's where you should go."


Braelnoir smiles wanly and nods, "Yeah... Yeah we managed ta free the ones we found in Merkabah." another swig of beer and a slightly haunted glimmer in her eyes for a moment, "Almost went the other way. Still... they're gone beyond, now, ta wherever's awaitin' them."


Cesran nods, "Bitter sweet work, glad you were able to free them, but sad that they needed freeing in the first place. I certainly know the feeling there. Hopefully they've been able to find some measure of peace, certainly nothing could be worse than being trapped and unable to move on to what's next."


Braelnoir lifts her tankard then and smiles a little more, "True that. Ta givin' folk due passage." she offers as toast.


Cesran reaches to get his empty glass to toast with Braelnior, "May they find their enternal reward." He sets his glass back down, "Thank you Braelnoir for a wonderful conversation. I'm glad to find out about what has been happening since I've been gone. I've got to get going now. I am going to stop by the Society tomorrow to see who is still around." He rises and takes his staff. "It was a pleasure meeting you Braelnoir, I hope that we can talk again soon."


The Korite touches cups and smiles broadly, tossing her drink back. When he offers his thanks she gives a nod and a , "Sure thing, luv, no pro'm a'tall." the merc watches the mage rises, then, taking up his staff/companion ahd she salutes with the tankard, "Been a pleasure, Cesran, Ral-sara. You two take care now, an hope ta share a pint with ya'gain sometime!"

As she is left alone to her meal, and thoughts, she takes her time to properly parse and digest them both.

She should introduce him to her sister.


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Starring -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

BRAELNOIR

       A woman with almost unblemished, sunkissed skin, standing most of six feet, she's probably Acanian, though broad enough of shoulder that she's probably more than a little Aesir as well. Life has cultivated her a solidly muscled physique, tempered to a balance between strength and grace. Silk of spun silver forms a left-parted train from her scalp, bound doubled back on itself into a low ponytail, it still reaches beyond her belt. Her features are fine and even, with stern brows over wolflike amber eyes and a tendency toward a feral grin. Her voice is a smokey tennor, accented to the particulars of Stormgarde. Ruling the knot of muscle of her right arm's shoulder, an emblem of gleaming, pebbled silver renders a howling skull within a heartlike boundry. Rougher, shimmering red scales dot her upper left arm, forming a winding pattern that is cut off at the lines of her equipment.
       The only 'jewelry' upon her person is a copper earring in her left ear, from which dangles a small brass skeleton and an artfully simple gold ring on the finger of her left hand.
       A fine, nearly black, breastplate, tempered to an almost iridescent blue violet, is cross strapped at her back, over a fitted corsellet of black leather. Her right hand is clad in a spiked gauntlet of fine, Arvek make, while the left is protected by a half-fingered leather affair with an hourglassed demi gauntlet over that, stamped with the symbol of Kor. Her legs are clad in loose trousers of what could have been sailcloth, dyed black in a way that left various whorls and ripples of smoke grey. Overknee greaves of black leather are strapped over matching hardsole boots cut just a bit longer.
       Her other accoutrements are manifold and equally diverse. A Khazadi bandolier containing Gods-know-what crosses her torso right-to-left to leave the pouches lining the inward curve of her waist without impeding her sword arm, with a couple larger pack at her back. An Aesir warhammer rides double frogs on her right hip, while a short Alexandria sword rests in a sheath on her left. For all this, the grimly ornate war scythe she carries is easily the weapon that's seen the most wear and care.


CESRAN

Cesran is a tall lanky man standing about 6'1". He skin tone is the color of dark mahogany and he has dark hair that has been styled into long dreadlocks that hang down to his shoulders. He has high cheek bones and a strong jawline. Cesran has amber colored eyes. He has a very wiry build with long arms and legs. His fingers are thin and long. Cesran is wearing a long red robe that reaches all the way down to his ankles. Around his middle is a deep blue sash that he has his pouches and melee weapons. He wears a simple silver ring on his index finger. His feet are adorned a pair of sandals that have red and gold intricate bead work in a geometric pattern.


MORGAN

        Her diminutive figure stands at a keen 4'10", including the amber wave of hair flowing not much past her chin. Bound together by red bow, four long braids rise up from the crown of her head, and entwine themselves together in a single, undulating cascade. Her petite form seems childlike upon first glance, yet her witty laugh and smooth voice have far more polish than a mere babes. And those sparkling emerald eyes have seen far too much adventure to belong to any but the most hard-bitten of youths. 
        A long, deep blue, doublet adorns her with black buttons that hang undone. Long sleeves that flare some at the wrist to keep her hands free for her work. Below the doublet is a red tunic of cotton, black vines etch little flowers along the tailored garment that cuts in at the waist before being belted just above the hips. A pair of woolen pants, dark blue to match the doublet, are upon her legs, a flare to them as they breach over the tops of her calf-high black leather travel boots.