Pharris' mouth makes a large O at the others, "me? speak fey? Yes, but not from my homeland!"
Then Pharris steps over to where Laithe points and sweeps the blanket round and down at invisible fey.
And comes up empty, just.
In sylvan "by the Stone of All Liars, what do you want, Red cap master of illusion and quicker than the buck after the mate!"
The soft, flickering yellow glow of Laithe’s faerie fire reveals the outline of a tiny humanoid shaped figure standing under the table.
How is that? Just need the last two positions, I will not add the red caps until we know where they are or can see them.
Pharris steps over to where Laithe indicated, in the corner and sweeps the blanket down. She feels a small, unseen shape at the blanket’s edge for a moment, then it slips away.
Pouting at the empty blanket, she straightens up, then calls out in a musical language that sounds a little like bird song, a little like the chirping of crickets, a little like a babbling brook, with just a hint of a discordant sound like the barking of a fox.
Then come two high pitched replies, from under the table and from the corner
“But does the tall gerl, head aflame, know us by nature?”
“Quick with a blanket, yet slow to catch, poor gerl.”
“We want you out if running and ‘fraid, or in if corpse cold.”
Nicholai grits his teeth in anticipation, and possibly concern, as Pharris steps forward and sweeps her blanket down. He doesn't relax when it comes up empty.
As Pharris talks in a language that sounds like it belongs in a summer meadow, he tries to tell where the responses are coming from.
He can't tell the voice from the pounding of blood in his ears, apparently. But he gives a quick smirk as Laithe's spell reveals the one under the table.
Kajetan will switch his delay to a ready action to cast the glitterdust if things turn hostile. He has no idea what is being said, but it sounds pretty.
Pharris keeps burbling and boggling away at the missing faerie.
Sylvan
She shrugs and drops her blanket by the door, waiting for an answer.
Laithe appears to catch on to what Pharris is saying and hesitates, trying to determine the intentions of the small creatures.
The strange voice comes again ...
An instant later, several things happen; there is the sound of rattling and banging coming from the back door of the cottage; a faintly glowing light appears amongst the shadowy rafters of the cottage above Pharris; and there is a ~plop~ sound from the fireplace, and the last embers of the fire splutter and die, leaving the cottage lit only by Laithe’s faerie fire and the faint glow from the rafters.
NIcholai flinches and winces as the noises occur. He blinks in the sudden gloom broken only by the soft glow of Laithe's Fairie Fire.
"Oh, bugger,..."
Kajetan would like to take his delayed action as soon as he can, casting Glitterdust on the corner to try and catch the none glowing fey in the area. He is aware this may also threaten one of his companions, but is more interested in outlining the one we can't see.
An instant later, several things happen; there is the sound of rattling and banging coming from the back door of the cottage; a faintly glowing light appears amongst the shadowy rafters of the cottage above Pharris; and there is a ~plop~ sound from the fireplace, and the last embers of the fire splutter and die, leaving the cottage lit only by Laithe’s faerie fire and the faint glow from the rafters.
"Ignore the distractions; these two have the ability to create minor illusions and galmours," Laithe warns the others. He then whispers the words to a spell of his own, concentrating on the two creatures.
.....
.....
Altons eyes dart around the room, following the faint flickers of movement in the dim room. Not sure how to act against this foe that he can barely see, he stays with his back to the wall, watching out for more enemies and seeing how his friends react.
Keildrithe maintains his defensive posture, but utters a mystical word as he does so, while continuing to look through the hole in the seeing stone. All of a sudden, the bard can be heard making the strange whispering, rushing and babbling sounds that Pharris had made moments earlier when she attempted to speak in Sylvan with the redcaps.
"Redcaps, what do you want with us? We mean you no harm. We will put our weapons away, if you would parley with us..."
Keildrithe:
Altons eyes dart around the room, following the faint flickers of movement in the dim room. Not sure how to act against this foe that he can barely see, he stays with his back to the wall, watching out for more enemies and seeing how his friends react.
"Stand down, but keep your guard up," says Keildrithe to his companions.
Keildrithe's mind reels as he tries to think of things to say that might de-escalate the situation. "Redcaps, you startled my friends, but I assure you, they mean you no harm. We know of your might and craftiness, and are awed by them. Only fools would do battle with redcaps. Would you accept a gift of gold or gems to make amends? Perhaps we share a common enemy that we can help you deal with? We have no love for the Artonites... what of you, what brings us to this cabin? I beg you, parley with me..."
The bard still isn't quite used to his thoughts forming in Karandic, yet being spoken in the completely unfamiliar Sylvan tongue.
Pharris waits and listens after her poor attempt at chatting up the redcaps.
She steps back in front of the now closed door.
Confronted, perhaps for the first time with evidence of a world beyond the one she knows, Anastasia hesitates, unsure what to do.
"Friends, I should like to regale thee with tales from afar, if you would be inclined to hear them," says Keildrithe to the redcaps, further hoping to distract the tiny fey and cool their tempers. "I promise they will be worth your while..."
Nicholai nods slightly at Keidrithe's words, but his hands remained poised,...
Kajetan was just about to utter the words of power when he is halted by Oldsun's request. He pauses unsure of what is being said and continues to play possum for a little longer.
Sylan:
“Think that we haven’t heard tales of moon and wood and stone and star? What have you to tell that we don’t know?”
The high pitched voices continue, seeming to come from different parts of the room, as most of the group wait, warily, seeing if Keildrithe is able to talk their way out of this situation.
"How about tales of devils that roam the earth to prey on fey and how one can defeat them, and of the devil boxes that released them? Or tales about the ancient dead that lay restless beneath old ruins guarding vast treasures? Or how about I delight you with clever riddles? Or sing you songs the likes of which you have never heard before? If you kill me and my companions, those delights will forever elude you... are you not the least bit curious? Let us say that if you fail to guess the answer to my riddles, or if my songs should please you, then you shall leave in peace... Surely you would not fear to pit your wits against mine? What have you got to lose? Is there something in particular that you seek in this cabin, or from my companions and I?"
Pharris pipes up in Sylvan
Ana's eyes dart back and forth between those speaking the fluid, unfamiliar sylvan tongue and he empty spaces in the cabin. As the voices come from different spots, she shifts slightly, warily standing ready to defend herself is need be. In the dimmer lighting of the cabin, she seems younger and smaller, despite the confident way she holds her sword and shield.
Sylvan:
The odd, high pitched voice comes again, with other sounds here and there that might be grunts of consent. Then, from the corner, and from the glowing patch under the table, and from near the fireplace, and sitting up in the rafters, appear half a dozen tiny, wrinkled old men, no more than eighteen inches tall, of roughly similar appearance; prodigious noses, squinty eyes, long wrinkled fingers and pointed ears. They wear drab pants and tiny shoes and ragged coats, and each has a bright red pointy cap … and holds a knife or small sword that look somewhat too large for them. The currently hold their blades down, in their clawed fingers, looking expectedly at Keildrithe, with occasional glances at Pharris and sideways looks at the rest of you.
Laithe rises warily as Keildrithe begins conversing with the Red Caps, listening intently to the talk. His companions notice his knuckles whitening at one point in the discussion, and he appears coiled, ready to attack. But as Keildrithe speaks once more, and the Red Caps appear into view, he relaxes a little.
"Keildrithe has offered a tale or song in return for peace" he explains for the benefit of those note able to understand the conversation, speaking softly in Atuscan so as to not draw attention away from the hedilye. He forces his body to relax further and appear as non-threatening as possible. But as he awaits for Keildrithe to begin his performance, he takes careful note of the position of each of the little men, wanting to be prepared if things don't go well.
Pharris stifles a laugh and leans back against the door, her arms folded.
"You are up, hedilye!"
"Well, that sounds fair!" Nicholai says with a smile, but while he relaxes physically, he is still obviously staying alert and aware.
The twisted little men sneer, roll their eyes, clack their taloned claws and otherwise fidget in semi-menacing fashion as they await Keildrithe’s response.