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Sookie's face noticeably reddens as the women respond to her, particularly the enchanting Aliseya. She nods in regard. "You are indeed correct on the matter of Tsukiyo. He is rather fond of jade." She pulls out her own holy symbol. "If you had told me fifteen years ago that I would serve a man--God or otherwise--I would have laughed in your face. I was an audacious child. I still am, but like most adults I have just learned to hide it well behind a respectable facade."
Sookie cuts herself off there, realizing that she is rambling as she often does when nervous, then returns her attention to Christoph.
"Ah! Now I remember, the order based in Wati, yes? How delightful. I do hope they are doing alright there after that whole incident with the Sky Pharaoh. Flying war pyramids and all that. Absolutely dreadful business." She takes a sip of her tea.
"... flying war what?" Naught perks up when Sookie brings up events from elsewhere.
"Errr, of course. Christoph or Speaker Metzger are both fine. And... uh, thank you?" Christoph is clearly unsure how to take the compliment and, as Aliseya's gaze lingers, he coughs and looks away as a slight flush creeps up into his cheeks.
Thankful a break in the silence, he nods his greeting to Zelda even as he ponders her words. What Father Yeniaminov had to say of them was enough without knowing the gritty details. Given who we're hunting... He nods his agreement, "From what little I've heard already, I suspect you're certainly right, Zelda."
"The Sky Pharaoh? Flying war pyramids?" Baffled by the direction of Sookie's understanding of his order, he pauses a moment to think. "Ah, I think you refer to the original home of the Voices in Wati. We have no contact with the Great Speaker Shepses in any regular fashion. We each have enough to occupy us without worrying about the goings on half a world away. Our house here in Ustalav is new. The priest I mentioned earlier, Father Yeniaminov, founded our order here. He was one of my predecessors as Speaker."
Judge Daramid patiently observes the gathering in her living room as Christoph settles his gear, the new arrivals take their seats, and the introductions have concluded to her satisfaction.
When Naught responds concerning her lack of surname, the judge simply replies, "...I see."
To Christoph's statement of proving to be of some use, "I'm quite certain that you shall."
...
The grandfather clock chimes as late morning unfolds.
Well then, shall we begin." Judge Daramid doesn't so much ask for everyone's agreement as states what's going to happen now whether they agree or not.
"You have been summoned here today because of the necromancer. I believe you have all come to know of whom I speak?" She scans the group, looking each person in the eye, discerning that there is no hint of confusion about this before carrying on.
Looking at the three younger ladies, "Miss Belododia, Miss Lamplighter, and Miss... Naught. In spite of your lack of expertise or experience in the matter, the three of you have managed to deal admirably well against the consequences of Auren Vrood's dark plot. Serving the Whispering Way, this sinister necromancer has worked towards some secret ambition, bringing naught but tragedy in its wake."
She pauses a moment to graciously sip her tea, before continuing to describe the two tragedies.
"He first visited great evil upon the town of Ravengro. Ustalav's most notorious and nefarious criminals were once imprisoned at nearby Harrowstone; when it burnt to the ground several decades ago, they were trapped inside. The necromancer performed a dark ritual to capture one of the two guardian spirits there, that of the late Warden Hawkran. The late warden's ghost had lingered with his late wife's, keeping the ghosts of the most nefarious prisoners' spirits from escaping to commit heinous evils to nearby Ravengro, and beyond. But once the protection of Hawkran was removed by the necromancer's ritual, the prisoners' ghosts sought to wrack the hapless town with the same brutalities and heinous villainy they'd executed in life."
"The three of you had managed to aid Lady Hawkran's lingering protective spirit and destroyed the five most powerful of the villanous ghosts, saving many lives in Ravengro."
"But Vrood evaded that town before your arrival, and with the spirit of Warden Hawkran still in his possession he targeted Lepidstadt University next. Capturing and cruelly imprisoning Count Caromarc in a device of torture in his tower, he controlled the Count's golem, the Beast, to steal the Seasage Effigy: an ancient and mysterious artifact, and the next piece in the sinister puzzle he has been assembling. He left the Beast at the scene of the crime to take the blame, and the ensuing trial and mob discontent served to distract most eyes from noticing his own agenda."
"I'd hired you at that time to investigate the theft, as well as the murders the Beast was accused of. Though the trail ended badly, your evidence was sound, and your case compelling."
She takes a breath and sips her tea again.
"Your mettle is undoubtedly resolved to have survived this long against such a formidable and ancient enemy as the Way. Yet reason demands that you shall require professional assistance now to ensure your success. If you are up to the task of carrying on further in this most pernicious of missions, I have taken the liberty of finding more experienced additions for your team as you track down the necromancer, uncover his nefarious plot, and put a stop to whatever greater evil he plans to unfold."
"Speaker Christoph," she gazes now at the violet-eyed one-man militia, "has trained his entire life for this very purpose. He represents an organization whose sole purpose is to combat the forces of undeath in this world, and has the training and experience to adroitly execute the task."
"Miss Clayten," gazing at the scholarly auburn-haired woman now, "is a priestess with both exceptional martial training and the divine favor required for the task as well. And with a formal education and professional experience in the field of mental health," she looks directly into Aliseya's eyes now, making the Varisian feel like a school girl called on by the strict teacher. "To be blunt: I don't know whatever possessed you to pull such a foolish act of chicanery in my courtroom," criticizing Aliseya's plan to bring that murderous creature to testify in court, "but with your rapidly developing powers and the dark potential inherent in them, it's clear that you require professional help. With your mind, dear girl. You must deal with the inner turmoil you undoubtedly suffer from, so that you may control your power with greater mental focus and discipline."
And Judge Daramid seems too precise a personality to have the wrong time by accident...
A low scritch is heard from Naught's coat before a peacock sticks his head out. "Hmm, what's that Roland?' Naught asks while petting his chin and looking over at the grandfather clock. "I think your clock is an hour fast..."
Christoph listens intently to the judge as she begins to speak. The chiming of the clock distracts him, however, with a sense that something is off. Frowning at it as he studies it more closely, it quickly dawns on him that the number of strikes was wrong. When Naught voices her opinion, he nods agreement, "Yes, it should only be ten I believe."
Unsure what to make of the sudden appearance of the brightly colored fowl from the depths of Naught's coat, he says nothing more but returns his attention to the Judge's recitation. He nods at a few points as he recognizes the parallel between the account given to him by Father Yeniaminov and his host. He returns the Judge's gaze with a level one of his own and nods appreciatively at the description.
Her revelations in regards to the enchanting young dancer elicit a grunt of surprise. He remains silent, for the moment, looking at the young Varisian with an appraising eye.
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Ali gasps, pouts, and crosses her arms when the judge criticizes her courtroom tactics. She politely waits for her to wrap up her thoughts before saying, "Well, we did find one of the murderers, and we did get it to confess to its crimes..."
Considering the thought of professional help, she looks down at the floor. She confesses, "Well... you've got me there, Your Honor."
She answers Zelda's question, pointing to Sookie, "She means her, Zel."
She opens her mouth to ask a question of Sookie. But the peacock's sudden emergence grabs her full attention.
"Awww, who's a cutie wootie little peacock?!" she babbles, rubbing Roland's head affectionately.
The clock banter also catches her attention. She turns to look at the clock as well, and shrugs.
Sookie is as surprised as everyone else that she's able to notice the clock at the same time as the others. She's not particularly accustomed to being quite so observant. She waits to hear the Judge's response to the others questioning the time before chiming in.
Naught puts a comforting hand on Ali’s shoulder while Roland basks in the attention and affection from the dancer.
Judge Daramid raises a brow as the peacock makes its entrance. After Naught and Christoph suggest the correct time, she simply agrees.
"Indeed, it is."
When Aliseya gets a bit defensive, the judge sharply raises her voice.
"A man died in my courtroom. By your witness's hand, Miss Belododia..."
She lets that thought linger in the air for a bit.
Her voice returns to normal volume as she continues. "You could have consulted with me beforehand; you could have trusted my judgment in the matter. Alternative arrangements could have been made: shackles for the dangerous creature, a special appearance in a closed session of court for the protection of the public..."
Seeing that her point has been made, she changes the subject. "What's done is done, however. I'm certain that you shan't think so carelessly going forward. My concern now is for your success in this far greater and graver venture, should you each choose to accept it."
Looking over the group more generally, she asks, "I do realize that I am asking no simple task of you all. Yet on two occasions now," she looks at the three younger ladies in particular, "you have already come together of your own accord to defy this tenebrific cult. Some would deem it Fate. Others, that you've chosen this of your own free will. At my advanced age, I've found that both the will of the gods and the choices we make go hand in hand towards the very same greater destinies; from which, in hindsight, we'd rather not stray. And I would not have called upon you had I not believed in your capabilities to triumph. I believe in each and every one of you," her glance passing Aliseya with this sentence, "even if there is room for improvement. For there always is for us all."
Another graceful sip of tea.
"So, then. Do you accept this mission? Do you have any questions or concerns that I might address before you can ultimately decide?"
You therefore feel certain that she's hiding something.
What significance or impact on your life or this mission an imprecise clock might have seems trivial, however. Furthermore, we're each entitled to our secrets, and the judge might have very sound reason to not reveal this particular secret.
Nonetheless, it does pique your curiosity.
Ancient Osirian sigils? The clock must be very special, old, and expensive...
Perhaps Sookie's mention of flying Osirian pyramids a moment earlier helped you to then notice something else of peculiar interest. An interesting symbol is engraved into the bronze clock face or dial. Above a symbolic pyramid shape hovers a beetle... more precisely, a scarab beetle of Osirion. Unlike it's real life counterparts, the symbolic scarab has outstretched feathered wings. And an open eye, ablaze with light, rests centrally on its back.
You cannot recall to mind the significance or meaning of such symbology, however...
Naught reflexively scooches in front of Aliseya as the Judge lays her attention into the dancer. "After everything we've been through that they've caused, after everyone whose been lost... I don't think I could sit by and let them keep doing it."
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Zelda looks at Aliseya and Naught and smiles. "None of us are perfect all we can do is try the best we can." Turning to the judge " after all i have seen, all the pain and suffering this group has caused, I cant walk away and let them continue to terrorize innocence. I must do what I can to stop them.
A tear appears slowly falling down her cheek.
" I have seen too much death in my life. I can no longer do nothing.
Naught couldn’t help but grin as Zelda’s states her plans. She was doing everything she could to not simply lunge and hug the barrister.
"I am new to all this, as you know. In fact, I probably could have simply left that unstated. But I was born to the upper class of Caliphas where everyone states matters that should be left unstated and leaves unstated matters that should be stated, so you must forgive me."
Sookie adjusts her collar as turns more serious.
"Regardless, I believe that this matter is completely relevant to my skills and that I can provide worthwhile support to this group of fine young women--and one token man. And Tamako-sensei gives her blessing on top of all that. I would be happy to lend abilities to this task."
"Having an additional friend, and a healer at that, would be most welcome," Naught pipes up.
As the judge criticizes her courtroom plan, Aliseya looks glumly at the floor. Taking it to heart, her eyes begin to water; they dart left and right, as if searching for an escape from the guilt over that poor man's death.
Suddenly yet briefly, enraged eyes flick upwards from the floor, taking aim at the judge. But she then closes her eyes, and takes in a deep, calming breath. When they open again, much of the anger seems to have been quelled.
When Judge Daramid finishes, the dancer stands up from between Naught and Zelda. She places a supportive hand on each of their shoulders.
"We lost a lot of good people because of them," some anger remains in her voice, aimed now at the cult. "Professor Lorrimor, Cellawyn, Govannon, Aleks..." Her voice trails off for a moment here. It seems the thought of the dead might again bring her to tears, but she recovers before that happens. "And many more will die if we do nothing."
She makes direct eye contact with each and every person in the room now.
"Let's do this," she demands with firm resolve.
Roland lets out a worried chirp as naught is about to speak before Aliseya collects herself and stands, taking her hand in her own.
"Professor Lorrimor, Cellawyn,"
Though her eyes widen at the mention of these names, still she doesn't speak, instead letting her eyes drift away as she thinks about those and the others they've met and lost in this strange, dark journey.
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Christoph arches an eyebrow as the new details surrounding the trial slowly become clearer. Unsure what to make of this new band which he was preparing to commit himself to his eyes wander back to the clock. Something about it had struck him as odd. On closer inspection, he notices the writing that he'd discounted initially as decorative motif were in fact hieroglyphs. Just like when I served as an acolyte. A shame I don't know what they mean. And that scarab... with its wings... and I'm not sure what to make of that eye. I suppose the honorable Judge must be a student of history and far-off places. Certain that there was some meaning to the symbols, but not willing to interrupt his host to ask, he makes a mental note to investigate later.
"I am committed. This is the role for which I have trained and I will not shirk my duty now." Christoph's studiously calm acceptance of the task seems slightly forced, but his voice is even. "It seems we're all resolved to the task. I gather that you know something about what the way is up to? Or perhaps where they will strike next?"
Judge Daramid nods as each member of the fellowship commits to the task at hand. The magistrate's eyes well up a bit at Aliseya's mention of her deceased associate. "Professor Lorrimor saw great potential in you. He would be very proud," she affirms to the three younger ladies in particular. Her voice falters a bit from emotion, a departure from her more usual stoic resolve. If there was any doubt before, clearly the magistrate and the professor were more than mere associates, once...
"Petros was a brilliant polymath, and a good man. But he was too damn stubborn for his own good. He liked to go it alone, to a fault. His lone wolf attitude is what got him killed in the end: going after the Way, all by himself at Harrowstone..." She shakes her head disapprovingly as her voice trails off. "Do not make the same mistake. Your strength is in your fellowship. No matter what," her eyes curiously glance at Aliseya in particular, "do not give up on each other. You will need each other to succeed. Against the Whispering Way, each of you undoubtedly will be challenged in ways you cannot yet even imagine. Stick together, lest you fall apart."
The judge then answers Christoph's first question. "The necromancer has captured the soul of a good man, the warden of Harrowstone Prison. He has also stolen the Seasage Effigy from the university, an ancient artifact of enigmatic origins. Of what the necromancer ultimately seeks with these and perhaps additional thefts, I know not. I can only surmise that a greater nefarious plot is afoot."
She continues, answering his second question. "I have been informed that the cabal was headed east, into the Shudderwood. Where precisely is not known to me. But I suspect you would best start your search at Ascanor Lodge, since that is the only island of civility in the Shudderwood's deadly depths."
Judge Daramid rings a light hand bell before continuing.
"The Silent Path is an ancient hunting trail through the Shudderwood, now little more than a memory marked in places by strange bone fetishes. An associate of mine often used the trail himself, when he was younger and had more energy, to seek out rare plants and toxins. You can access the old trail about a mile downstream from Schloss Caromarc, about 25 miles northeast from Lepidstadt. I would surmise that this was most likely the path the Way took."
The sound of Mr. Giles's light feet are heard coming back up the stairs. In his hands, he manages to deftly balance five small ornate wooden boxes and five matching envelopes in his hands. He hands one box and envelope to each of the party members present.
"Entry into the very posh hunting lodge is by invitation or reservation only. However, my connections have enabled me to acquire blank invitations, which I now give to you to use to gain entry." Inside each envelope is a formal invitation to Ascanor Lodge. There is a blank space for each of you to write your own name on it.
As you open the boxes, you each find a small fortune in platinum coins. "Please accept my further contribution to the cause. This should help you prepare for your journey, or aid your needs at the rather fashionable lodge."
"For Petros!" Naught declares as she toasts with her tea cup.
taking the gifts with a thank you towards both Giles and Daramind Naught spends an inordinate amount of time going over the envelope at the expense of the box, carefully taking it out and looking over the parchment and ink.
Tears flow from Aliseya's eyes as the judge speaks of Professor Lorrimor and how proud he'd be of them. She seems tempted to throw her arms around the judge in a warm embrace of empathy for the loss of a man she must have deeply loved; but she then rethinks it, on the consideration that the stern old woman is definitely not the hugging type.
Smiling, the Varisian beauty raises her cup to clink Naught's.
"Oh, thank you, Judge Daramid." Unlike Naught, she marvels wide-eyed at the shiny platinum pieces inside her box. In spite of her facial expression that clearly says, "I am not worthy," her friends who know her well enough by now might imagine that she's wondering what new posh outfit, fancy shoes, or expensive jewelry she could buy with the coins.
They would, of course, imagine correctly.
After a long moment with the coins, Aliseya then moves on to the envelope. She gasps lightly on touching the parchment inside. Closing her eyes for a long moment, her fingertips lightly trace its surface; and from beneath their lids, her eyes dart to and fro... as if observing a scene that only she can see.
After a minute, she opens her eyes, shrugs, and says, "Huh. I thought I got something for a moment there. Oh well."
Naught examines her invitation carefully...
The parchment seems to be of a very fine quality, as does the ink. Probably a few gold pieces of materials were used, rather than a few silvers more commonly. Whomever wrote it had a very steady hand, and was obviously trained well in calligraphy.
The wording is certainly on the sophisticated side, but it essentially indicates that it is a valid official invitation to Ascanor Lodge. It bears the official seal of Judge Daramid's office of the Magistrate of Lepidstadt, and appears identical to the seal on Zelda's earlier invitation from this morning to meet the magistrate.
"Lovely handwriting," Naught murmurs as she delicately holds the invitation, much more so than the cup and platter in her other hand.
Unsure who he was, but unwilling to slight the memory of a man who was clearly important to most present, Christoph silently raises his cup of tea in toast to Professor Lorrimor. He murmurs a blessing as he traces the Pharasmin spiral, "May he find his rest past the Spire and the judgement of the Lady."
He listens with intense interest to the Judge's recount of the Way's activities. A shame we don't know more about what they've taken or what it could be for. It's bad to be stumbling after them in the dark without an inkling what they're about. He accepts the invitation and box with a gracious nod, immediately scrutinizing the envelope and it's contents. After a moment, he opens the box and whistles softly at the hefty sum contained therein. Earnestly, he thanks the Judge, "This will be of great aid in our hunt for the Way, Your Honor. We'll all we can to reward your faith in us, I'm sure."
Sookie’s brow creases as she listens to the full story of what has happened. Quite a dramatic tale! She is engrossed in hearing each new piece. By the end, she finally remembers where she knew the name “Professor Petros Lorrimor” from. ”I had a brief encounter with this Professor Lorrimor several years ago. I helped him with a spot of business concerning a seugathi. Dreadful creatures. His daughter—Kendra, I believe—was quite a treasure. I should have liked to speak with her more, and I do hope she has been holding up well. My condolences in regards to his passing.”
Sookie takes one of the invitations and flips it over in her hand. ”How exclusive. I thought the part of my life spent at posh gatherings was over. I shall have to see how much I remember. Do we know what any of these Whispering fellows look like? Might we expect to see any there?”
"Gloomy clothes, evil secret handshakes, whispers a lot, that sort of thing," Naught thinks aloud as she continues looking at her invitation.
"Thanks," she smiles at Sookie.
Aliseya nods at Naught's description.
"And don't forget creepy masks," she adds, recalling a traumatic memory of her own personal encounter with one of them...
Feeling the side of her thigh, she remembers something. "Oh, speaking of masked creeps, I should finally get my leg checked out. It's been manageable lately, I almost forgot about it..."
Realizing some people in the room don't know what she's talking about, "A month ago, I think one of the cultists visited me while I was sleeping. I whacked the creep right in the masked face with my staff; it may as well have been a light tap for all it did. He overpowered me and shoved a black small object, right in my freakin' eye!" She points to her red eye for emphasis. "I felt it move through my body, and it landed in my leg; there's a bump there, and it throbs sometimes." She touches her upper thigh to show them where. "For a while, we thought that might be the reason for my..." she trails off, not finishing her sentence, with a look of regret on her face.
Naught blinks, then slowly looks at Aliseya’s leg.
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Zelda quietly holds up a glass to the lost of a good man. "The professor will be missed by many."
Opening the box from the judge her eyes open wide. "Oh my, I dont know what to say! Thank you!" Zelda thinks for a moment, "How much time do we have before we should move on? I would love to upgrade a few items first, if we have the time. You notice her gaze moves down to her weapons with a hopeful look in her eyes.
Judge Daramid raises her own cup of tea in the toast to Petros Lorrimor.
"May it help your efforts to thwart the nefarious Way's plans," the judge simply states as she is thanked several times for her financial contribution to the cause.
"Miss Belododia," she informs Aliseya, "should it be beyond either Speaker Metzger's or Miss Clayten's expertise to assist you, perhaps a visit to the Temple of Pharasma would be productive concerning your leg. I believe Speaker Metzger knows the way."
"Prepare yourselves for the journey, Miss Lamplighter," she answers Zelda, "Yet do not tarry, for I fear there isn't time to waste. Who knows what the necromancer has already accomplished of his designs in the Shudderwood."
"The last time didn't work out so well," Naught mumbles when the judge brings up going to the temple of Pharasma.
Christoph glances from the lovely young dancer's unsettling red eyes -just now noticed- to the point on her leg Aliseya highlighted. Unsettled by her tale, he nods, "I think it would be prudent to seek help with Church, yes. That it's been allowed to linger so long is... troubling. I gather some effort has been put to the problem-" Christoph casts a sidelong glance at Naught before continuing, "-but if we're to be in the wilderness and hunting the Way besides it'd be best to deal with it now. We should go as soon as we're done with this briefing, as we've little time to waste."
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Aliseya looks down with Naught's comment, as if reminded of a tragedy.
"I agree," she concurs with Christoph. "But let's take just a little time to make sure we're at our best before we head out. Like, even if there's a small chance they can help, I really want this friggin' rahat out of my body already," pointing to her leg again, "and if Zelda says she needs better weapons, who am I to argue." She winks at her blonde friend.
"To save time, maybe I go to the temple while Zel shops for weapons? We can meet back at the gate to the bridge leading east?"
A tinge of jealousy then hits her as the thought of Zelda shopping without her troubles her soul, even if it's not for clothes and accessories. Knowing the importance of their mission, she manages to refrain from complaint.
You discern from her usage that Ali clearly means the latter.
Judge Daramid rises from her seat.
"I must now tend to other important matters. That will be all, then."
To the three younger ladies, the judge shows some warm emotion. "The professor cared for you all. And so do I." To Christoph and Sookie, "Look after them, protect them. And may the gods protect you all."
To everyone, "Farewell. Khu ba heteph," she adds in a strange language that none of you understands, but then translates, "Seek and you shall find."
The judge makes it clear that the meeting is adjourned. Mr. Giles, her manservant, begins collecting your emptied tea cups on a tray. After taking them away, he returns with most of your coats (Naught kept hers on) after you descend the stairs back to the first floor. In spite of his relative lack of height, he manages to wrap each lady's coat around their shoulders like a proper gentleman.
"Thank you,' Naught tells the Judge before taking Ali's hand. "Are you wanting to go to the temple first?" she asks her.
"Thank you so much, Judge Daramid. For everything." Aliseya smiles at the stern magistrate, seeing a soft spot in her heart after all.
"Yeah," Ali confidently replies to Naught. She holds her hand in return. "I want it out. Like, yesterday. And the less these creeps have over me, the better..."
Her voice trails off. Her eyes look down at the ground as she adds, "...for all our sakes, I fear."
She then looks at Sookie and Christoph with reluctant hope, "Unless... can either of you do something about creepy necromantic leg implants?"
After the gnome helps her put her coat back on, she smiles at him. "Thank you too, Mr. Giles."
Judge Daramid instructs Mr. Giles to allow the party to use a private study for them to examine Aliseya's leg, if they wish.
After taking your coats off again without complaint, Mr. Giles leads the group to a private room on the first floor of about fifteen feet wide by thirty feet deep. Through the rich wooden door, the room within is an elegantly furnished study. Dark wooden bookcases line the walls, packed with various and many tomes. Some look older than others. A large window on the far wall brings ample sunlight in for reading. A central chandelier in the ceiling would be lit for nighttime reading. A mahogany desk and matching leather cushioned chair are at the far corner of the room. A closer leather couch lines the wall to the left to seat three.
Aliseya plops down right in the middle of the couch with a smile. As Christoph offers to examine her leg, she agrees. She reiterates the tale of the night an agent of the Whispering Way overpowered her and placed a small black object into her eye. The object moved through her body, and settled in her upper thigh. She describes feeling a throbbing sensation in her thigh at times, which has escalated to intense pain on occasion.
Christoph begins to examine Aliseya’s thigh with his inner senses. He extends his hands over her leg without touching her, closes his eyes, and begins to sense the presence of multiple magical auras emitting from a small point in her upper thigh...
After half a minute of examination, Aliseya grows more and more uncomfortable. Suddenly, she yelps in pain! She begins to sweat profusely, as her body spasms involuntarily several times. She grips nearby Naught's upper arm with both hands and squeezes so tightly, Naught nearly screams in pain as well.
"IT HURTS!! AHHHHH!!!"
”It’sokatIt’sokayIt’sokay,” Naught frantically tries to calm Aliseya down as Christoph examines her, ignoring the Dancer caused pain in her arm.
”Are you learning anything?!” she asks the Speaker.
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Before leaving the judge zelda turns to the judge. "Thank you so much for your time and assistance we appreciate everything you have done for us. Clearly this town is truly privileged to have someone like you looking over them."
When Aliseya begins to yell Zelda quickly moves to her side and glares at Christoph. "Are you quite through yet.
Sookie bows to the judge as well. "Thank you for all that you have done, Judge Daramid. Your faith in us shall not be misspent."
In regards to the situation with Aliseya, Sookie tries a different tact, consulting with her memories of anatomy to see if there's anything she might remember that might help Aliseya deal with her pain.
To naturally reduce her pain, it's critical to identify and alleviate what triggered the convulsions, if possible. During such an episode, protecting Aliseya from injury is of primary concern. Remain calm, and try to help prevent injury by using mild restraint in order to avoid allowing the extremities to strike nearby hard objects. Vigorous restraint can cause orthopedic injuries (i.e. injuries to bones, ligaments, and tendons), as the muscles contract strongly against resistance.
Christoph nods his agreement with Aliseya's proposal. Little time to be lost, but it doesn't help to charge headlong and unprepared into danger. He rises as the Judge does, bowing stiffly at the waist to the woman. "With Pharasma's grace, I will do all I can."
Gathering his gear from where he had propped it against the wall, he rejoins his new-found companions. He meets the young dancer's gaze, then shrugs in answer to her question, "I might be, ma'am. I might not. I'll just say the healing arts aren't... where I've trained most. It can't hurt to have a look though. I've some training. Enough to keep myself alive long enough to be seen by the true healers in the church if naught else."
Gathering his holy symbol in his hand, he chants an invocation with practiced ease. Eyes now glowing softly, he begins to study the young woman's leg with intense concentration. So focused was he on his study that he doesn't notice the woman's discomfort until she screams in pain. Wincing at the ear-splitting pitch of the scream, he stops his spell without hesitation. Face serious, though clearly ridden by guilt, he curses, "Brigh's buttocks, but damn me for a fool. Aye, I'm done for now, Miss Lamplighter. I'm sorry for the pain, Aliseya. I wasn't expecting examining the thing to cause you such pain. It gives me a fair bit of worry that just studying the thing can do . I learned a little -less then I'd like- but I doubt I can learn more without causing you more significant pain. The item, whatever it is, is a curse of some type. I recognize the aura of the thing. Magical, a curse, and caused by a member of the Way. Any one of those is enough to warrant caution, but all three together..."
Whistling softly between his teeth, he shakes his head. "Let's get you to a church and have someone with a better healer's hand take a look. I'll certainly need to come to share what I've learned."
He gives the woman a moment to catch her breath, but is clearly ready to make all haste to the Church.
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It takes a moment for the spasms to subside. Leaving deep indentations in Naught's arm, Aliseya breathes several sighs of relief and blinks several times as she recovers.
"That was, like, the worst. Ever. It's hurt before, but never like that."
"Sorry love." She places a warm hand on Naught's cheek.
She listens intently to what the speaker has to say. "Yeah. Let's go."
As they get up to go, though, she casts Christoph a funny glance. "Wait. Whose buttucks?"
The door to the study opens once more. Mr. Giles steps through the doorway with concern in his visage.
"Is everything alright?"