"Good question." Donovan said. Knowing the money was probably quite a bit more intelligent than most would assume, he looked down and said. "Alright, take us to Esme. Go on."
The monkey stops it's anxious tugging and proceeds to turn and scamper out the door and in the direction toward the Inn. It stops every so often, looking back and making the beckoning gesture again to ensure someone is following. Olivia pauses near a storage building that is incompletely latched and glances inside. Seeing nothing, she closes it again and latches the lock. She then follows behind Donovan.
As you step into the streets from the Outfitter's shop, you notice the sounds of musicians tuning up their instruments as well as the sounds of a milling crowd with much talking and laughing to the south. The streets on the north side of the town are virtually deserted now as the sky takes on a deep purple hue and the sun slips below the horizon.
Donovan continues to follow the monkey back toward the Inn. The cold knot in his gut was forced back down.
No reason to assume anything is wrong. Stop being paranoid. he chided himself. Still, he found himself walking faster.
Esme gently lays the old woman down on her bed. Turning her onto her side, Esme checks her back carefully for disturbance in her clothing that might indicate a wound beneath. Heal:
Satisfied that the woman bears no obvious wounds on her back, Esme does the same for her front, also looking to see if the woman's belt or other attachments are too tight. If she cannot fit two fingers under the belt easily, she will remove it. Halfway down the body, Esme stops at the wrists, feeling for temperature and the thread of life. Heal: At the same time, she examines the fingers, to see if they are limp or rigid, indicating their being wrapped around the bars of Geryon's Cell on the Third level of Hell. Knowledge Religion:
As she works her way down the body, Esme removes the woman's shoes and presses her thumb into the woman's skin, above the ankle looking for fluid which would mean a natural problem with the heart. If she finds such, she will need to do something drastic with the bed, so I'll wait on that. Heal:
Lastly, Esme leans in close, sniffing the woman's breath lightly before taking the bedside candle and leaning in. Peering into the woman's eyes transversely, she tries to catch a glimpse of the edge of the woman's soul where it attaches to the canal of Burkhardt. Concerned that the woman's soul may already be stolen, she checks the other eye as well. Knowledge Arcane:
If all checks are negative, Esme will wrap the woman in a blanket if her skin is cold or will ask for water and a rag if her skin is overly hot. It the woman with Esme leaves, Esme will work much faster, using her hair to perform many of these tasks.
Esme notes no wounds and only a few superficial bruises, probably a result of bumping into things. She does note that Magda is dehydrated and likely exhausted. She definitely suffers from arthritis and it would seem she is usually pretty sedentary. Her pulse indicates she has a somewhat irregular beat, and she does indeed to have some degree of heart disease, but that does not seem to be the source of her current condition. She also has a significant wheeze. Her hands are now limp and relaxed and her breath now smells only lightly of tooth decay, nothing like what she smelled before. Esme also sees no reason to believe that her soul has left her body.
When Olivia realizes the monkey is heading for the Inn she breaks into a sprint and reaches the Inn first. She opens the door and spies the broom lying on the floor and calls out, "Aunt Sophia?". Sophia answers her call "Up here Livi! Something has happened to Magda. Would you go and see if you can find Francesca?" The monkey and Donovan enter the Inn lobby now and Olivia is on her way back out behind them. She heads south down the street again, still sprinting, her yellow skirt trailing behind her. She reaches her brother where he is waiting with some of the straggling party members. "Something is wrong with Magda, we need to find Francesca and bring her." He nods and they both turn toward the small house a few doors down from the Outfitters, they knock and call out, but no answer comes. "She must be at the dance then, come we'll find her quickly!"
Donovan listens to Olivia's concerns, his brows furrowing in worry. He makes his way up to Esme's doorway. Standing in the doorframe taking in the scene in front of him, he simply asks, "What's going on?"
I will follow Olivia, and wait in the hall unless I am needed. When Olivia heads off to find Francesca, I am going to try and quietly sneak away to the storage building where Olivia paused, closed and latched the door. I will not enter the building, but I will walk completely around it, looking for a window, or something else that might let me look inside. I will use Detect Evil, focusing my attention toward the inside of the building.
Dimitrio was confused by the turn of events but suddenly sensed that there was something much more to the young halfling girl than he first perceived. His curiosity roused, the rogue followed the girl, watching closely for any suspicious activity.
Peering around Donovan's shoulder into the room, Rannveig's golden eyes go wide. She immediately steps back, going into a crouch, and her right hand flies to the hilt of her scimitar, though she does not draw, and her left goes to Ylva's shoulder, urging her friend to keep her senses open.
On hearing Donovan's voice, Esme calmly replies, "The old woman collapsed in the street so I brought her here. I hope the girl has gone for the woman's family as she is not able to move on her own currently. Would you please bring me a glass of beer from downstairs. I also need a blue candle if there is one handy although it is not critical. A yellow or white one would do in a pinch."
Ninefingers will not follow the group but rather grab tankard at the nearest beer stand and take perch near the dance. He watches the performers but, also, the bystanders to see if he notices their behavior or anything unusual.
he will make small talk with anyone who is nearby.
Donovan raised an eyebrow, but nodded and went down stairs in search of beer and candles.
The storage building actually shares it’s walls with the house that Gregorio and Olivia stopped at and banged on the door and the Basketweaver’s shop on the west side. The door is latched and locked and there are no windows on the storage building. Artegal circles around the house through the garden and finds windows overlooking the garden but he cannot see anything inside as it is now growing quite dark and there is no light inside either. The rear of the building yields no further information. The music swelling from the nearby dance in the town square is also preventing him from hearing well enough to be certain nothing is amiss. Finally he calls upon his ability to Detect Evil and focuses it on the unseen interior of the building, but senses nothing. Only when he relaxes his focus does he pick up on the faintest of lingering auras under his feet right in front of the storage building. He refocuses on the spot trying to determine the nature of it, but it fades away under his scrutiny before he can get a good feel for it.
Gregorio and Olivia hurry along, both of them sprinting toward the crowd of milling people. They are greeted by smiles and even applause from some of the people who begin to call out to them to join the festivities. They exchange only a few words with some individuals however as they split from each other, each traversing opposite sides of the street, scanning the crowd and stopping only to speak to someone for a brief moment before hurrying along. They do not seem to notice Dimitrio following behind them, but he is finding it harder and harder to keep them both in view.
The town square is beautifully decorated with colorful paper lanterns strung between the buildings. In the center of the square is a 10 foot tall statue of a lovely young woman holding a small child aloft, both of them laughing. Dimitrio thinks the statue looks like it might resemble Azura, albeit a younger and more slender version of her. The people appear to be decked out in their finest, especially the young people. Dimitrio thinks he has lost Olivia in the midst of so many much taller people, when he catches a glimpse of her golden curls through the crowd. He starts to hurry to keep her in view but suddenly finds the way blocked by the same dark-haired beauty who spoke with him earlier.
“There you are! I had begun to worry you did not like my gift after all. You promised me a dance, did you not?” she extends her hand toward Dimitrio and smiles shyly, her confidence waning as she notices his distracted expression. She is beautifully dressed in a dress much like Olivia’s but made with layers of sheer fabric that show off her silhouette in an extremely flattering way. She smells of lilac and freesia as the breeze carries her fragrance to Dimitrio’s nose.
”My name is Mariposa, I think I forgot to say before. My friends call me Mari.” She smiles shyly again and bites her bottom lip as if worried she has been too forward and put the handsome rogue off. Dimitrio looks again to locate Olivia but sees no trace of her now.
Sophia answers Esme, "Yes, Francesca is Magda's daughter. I hope Livi can find her soon. Sir, I'm sure Azura keeps blue candles and obviously the beer over at the Tavern. Jovanni is watching the bar now, he'll help you find what you need."
Donovan, you should be able to find what you need and return in a few minutes, but feel free to RP any conversation with Jovanni you wish.
Nothing seems amiss at the dance. People are laughing, dancing, eating and drinking. The beer vendor fills the dwarf's tankard and waves away his coin. The musicians reach the end of one piece and pause momentarily as they launch into a softer, slower tune. Many of the young men and women begin pairing off, twirling in each others embrace. The pretty redhead again glances toward Gregorio, but this time he catches her doing so and looks away swiftly, his cheeks flushing with color.
Nicu hesitates, then shadows the others back to the inn, quietly observing from the background. It's the gold, I told them it was bad luck, the coins fell too freely at the festival!
“There you are! I had begun to worry you did not like my gift after all. You promised me a dance, did you not?” she extends her hand toward Dimitrio and smiles shyly, her confidence waning as she notices his distracted expression. She is beautifully dressed in a dress much like Olivia’s but made with layers of sheer fabric that show off her silhouette in an extremely flattering way. She smells of lilac and freesia as the breeze carries her fragrance to Dimitrio’s nose.
”My name is Mariposa, I think I forgot to say before. My friends call me Mari.” She smiles shyly again and bites her bottom lip as if worried she has been too forward and put the handsome rogue off. Dimitrio looks again to locate Olivia but sees no trace of her now.
The rogue is surprised at first and annoyed that he lost both of his 'targets' but quickly recovers.
He once again bows to the girl in front of him, "And I am a most dumbfounded Dimitrio. Very pleased to see you again Mari." The beautiful girl should have been enough for Dimitrio to relax but he is still concerned about what was going on. However, the perfume is the drop that tipped the bucket and Dimitrio quickly forgets his previous self-appointed task.
He extends his hand to Mari and allows her to twirl in front of him while he softly whistles as she giggles. "I must have pleased Desna for sending me such a lovely butterfly this evening. And Dimitrio is a man of his word and a dance you shall have."
The rogue nears the girl and whispers, "I'm sorry about your gift but the little boy really wanted the doll. He said he had a collection or something. But come Mari, you can gift me tonight with a dance, eh?"
Ninefingers continues to watch the festivities, when he spots Dimitrio he shakes his head in disbelieve. Give 'im credit, he's got an eye fer the cute ones. Then he continues to look around at the gaiety.
Once I am satisfied there is nothing more to be learned here, I look for Luc, and move toward him.
Rannveig stays in the hall, watching Esme with wary eyes. Stepping back, she allows Donovan to pass without ever taking her eyes from the changeling.
The wind begins to pick up some and you hear the rumblings of a storm coming your way. Clouds begin to blot out the stars overhead.
Artegal reaches Ninefingers just about the time that Gregorio appears to have summoned his nerve and approaches the pretty redheaded girl.
The two of them notice a man watching the two young people as they speak, from his demeanor as he walks around self-importantly as well as his over formal uniform in this setting they suspect that this must be the Constable Gregorio disparaged earlier.
"Boote lookie there" he raises is beard towards the self-important man, "he's the one we should talk to. Probably the Constable" Keeping his prejudgments to himself while in the open with prying ears. "Wanna 'ave that chat?" He stops to relight his cigar, "You can lead, I'll join in when necessary." He chuckles.
As Donovan leaves to find the candle, Esme rummages through her packs. Pushing the bed against the wall, she draws this in the middle of the floor with practiced, sure strokes.
While she's drawing, the shadowy puddle of her hair on the floor seems to stretch out. Creeping out toward the bed with the old woman, the dark strands merge with the darkness beneath before sliding across the bedclothes and slipping under the old woman.
The body slowly rises from the bed, floating toward Esme, kneeling on the floorboards. As the last of the chalk circle joins, the old woman settles in the center. The shadowy tendrils of hair withdraw into the greater shadow cast by the witch as she looks up to see if Donovan has returned.
Donovan had a quick conversation with Jovanni that essentially amounted to "Yeah, a glass of beer and a blue candle. Not really sure why she needs them, but if it'll help the old woman, I'll go along with it."
Then he came back into Esme's room as if on cue, holding out the candle and the beer.
Some of the older women are eyeing her with mild disapproval, and Dimitrio suspects a hint of envy.
The Constable is making rounds of the dance, and stopping at nearly every vendor and sampling the food, topping off his tankard at every opportunity as well. He doesn't look drunk, still holding himself steady as he struts about. But Artegal notices the practiced, measured step of a man with much experience at not seeming drunk. His expression is placid as he observes the celebration and he is now approaching the beer vendor where the Dwarf and Halfling are speaking.
Artegal can also hear the laughter of children inside the Secolo Theatre behind them. Seems the last show of the night is well underway.
Jovanni merely shrugs and smiles, as if to say 'Women, eh?' as he gathers up a few pale blue candles and a large mug of beer and hands them over.
"Hope Magda is alright, Sir Donovan. Thank you for helping her."
She guides him out onto the dance floor swishing her hips to the undulating rhythm. She grins wickedly as she shoots a glance at her friends who are watching her with alternating expressions of shock and awe.
Some of the older women are eyeing her with mild disapproval, and Dimitrio suspects a hint of envy.
It's easy to see that the rogue loves the attention but he is savvy enough to share it with his latest dance partner. He smoothly sways to the rhythm letting the girl bask in the attention, both awe and envy, from other women. But when it is time for Dimitrio to lead, the rogue saunters to center stage, click-clacking with his boots in tune with the music. A few twirls and plenty of sexual innuendo later, both dancers end as this particular song winds down. The applause is quick to follow where Dimitrio again bows deeply giving Mari more than her fair share of the credit. He nears her from behind and whispers in her ear, "Oh, I bet you could make a peg-legged pirate look good dancing. What other surprises do you have for Dimitrio tonight?"
Ninefingers watches the Constable approach and when he gets to the beer stand he is the dwarf is fearlessly guarding says, "Evening...fine festival. Buy'ya a tankard?" He smiles, extending his hand hand with four fingers to the peace officer, "Names Luc Ninefingers and this here is Artegal Boote." There is big smoke ring that envelops the officer as Ninefingers speaks, a result of years of practice.
Constable Aldo is an average looking man. Muddy brown hair and eyes, not really remarkable in anyway beyond the officers uniform he wears. He looks for the source of the voice addressing him, focusing for a moment on the beer vendor before his eyes travel down and left enough to notice the Dwarf and his Halfling comrade. "Oh, 'ello there! Din't notice ya at first. Master-uh, Fivefingers was it? Odd name, that." he blinks, a bit too slowly and one eye opens again a beat slower than it's partner. "'ave ya come to Piazza for business or pleasure, sirs?" he raises an eyebrow in an attempt to look discerning but combined with the too wide placid smile on his face, the effect is comical at best.
He turns his gaze out to the dance floor again and a sour look pulls at the corner of his mouth as he notices the scene of Dimitrio and the dark haired beauty in brilliant form on the dancefloor. "Now that looks like a nefarious sort of feller, don't it?" he crosses his arms in front of him and watches the display while nursing his freshly filled tankard.
Mari laughs with surprise and delight at the way Dimitrio commands the attention of all with his expertise. She is winded from the exertion and her eyes wide with wonder. "You are much more surprising, by far. Never have I danced like that before. That was incredible!" she is clearly under the charming rogue's spell. Many of the other young ladies have moved to surround the two of you, watching raptly. Some look to be lining up, even.
Esme reaches out for the candles with a nod of thanks. "Doamnă de tronuri, dă-mi flacăra ta."
As the first candle springs alight, Esme moves towards one of the five symbols. Softening the bottom of another candle in the flame, she places it in the center of the smaller circle. Repeating the incantation and placement four more times, Old Magda is soon surrounded in soft golden light.
"The old woman is exhausted though her soul still abides within her frame. Sophia, please attend."
Once joined by the woman, Esme takes one long nailed finger and dips it into the beer before spreading the liquid on Magda's lips. Repeating the motion, the liquid slowly trickles into the old woman's mouth, to which she reflexively swallows.
"Please repeat this until the glass is empty. Go not too fast less she choke, yet the glass should be empty within the quarter hour.
Rising to her feet and looking at Donovan, Esme warns, "We should find the others. Night is coming and this...place...grows thin, fraying around the edges. Watch yourself lest you become lost in the fringes. Quickly now, this old woman will be fine and we've little time to waste."
"Aye, just passin' through fer now, the place looked friendly enough to rest and resupply. Doesn't hurt th't the beer is guud too." Bet he knows where the guud drink is located. "Any fav'rite places fer a tankard?"
The dwarf glances at the the dancing, "Why'ya think he looks like a nefarious sort of feller?" Trying to bait him into disclosing his personal beliefs and perhaps predisposed opinions.
Donovan's brows furrow. If there was anything he liked less than dire warnings, it was cryptic dire warnings. "I'll see if I can find them."
"Someday I'll figure out why magic-y folk can't just speak plain words. Reminds me of Cousin Xander." he muttered, mostly to himself as he left.
When he made it out to the street and started toward the festival, he looked to Rannveig and said "I know you don't much like crowds, but you're a better tracker than I am. Might need you to sniff out Dimitrio's cologne if he's managed to slip away into barn with some local girl again. You up for it?"
Rannveig simply nods, her face grim. She made sure Ylva was staying close by her side as they picked up speed, trotting towards the noisy crowds of the dance.
Sophia had backed into the corner, gripping the walls with the flats of her hands as if holding herself upright. Her eyes wide with shock and fear as she watched Esme move Magda into the center of her chalk drawing. She tries to compose herself when Esme turns her gaze on her, but only nods her assent that she will do as green skinned woman bids her.
Aldo's too wide smile returns as the conversation turns to drink. He leans a toward Ninefingers conspiratorially and says low "Have my own special supplier. This be the Tavern's suds here though. When Ninefingers asks about the rogue however, Aldo turns a perplexed look on the dwarf for a moment before answering. "Waddaya mean? Look at 'im! Carryin' on thata way with the Mayor's niece... He's philanderpher! An probably more besides. Hmm?" he takes a deep draught of his beer.
Mari laughs with surprise and delight at the way Dimitrio commands the attention of all with his expertise. She is winded from the exertion and her eyes wide with wonder. "You are much more surprising, by far. Never have I danced like that before. That was incredible!" she is clearly under the charming rogue's spell. Many of the other young ladies have moved to surround the two of you, watching raptly. Some look to be lining up, even.
The rogue knows that he put in a pretty darn good performance and takes his bow-to quickly give credit to the winded young girl at his side. He smirks at Mari, "Why girl it looks like there are others that want to dance with Dimitrio. You'll have to excuse me."
Dimitrio walks towards the other girls trying to pick out the best looking one much to Mari's disappointment. He suddenly stops, "Ladies, I will be here all week but tonight..."; he turns back Mari, ... tonight Dimitrio has already chosen a dancing partner."
He bows again to the girls and saunters back to Mari; he offers her his arm and whispers, "Come with girl. The magic of this night has just started."
"A dwarf can 'ppreciate a special brew."
He flicks his hand up dramatically at the couple, "There kids, just dancin', no 'arm in dat. Besides, he could be a earl's son fer all th't you know...th't be a guud marriage then." He is curious if his half-hearted bluff registers with Aldo.
"Sir," Nathaniel addresses the constable, "the man you are talking about is a companion of ours. He can be, um, a bit unorthodox, at times, but he is trustworthy. You say the girl is the mayor's niece? Is your Mayor in attendance, I would like to formally introduce myself and make assurances that we," he sweeps his hand in a wide gesture, "My companions and I, are friendly and thankful for the hospitality of you town. My name is Artegal Boote."
Nathaniel whispers to Luc, "I am not comfortable talking about anything serious with this man, given the obvious notion that he is mildly intoxicated. I have no personal convictions or judgments regarding the use of intoxicants, but it is not wise to ask question of someone who might not give answers that are reliable due to their state of mind. If you could keep him occupied, I will seek out the mayor and make sure we are formally introduced and any fears are put aside."
Esme follows behind Donovan, happy to let him part the crowd. Remembering the earlier warning, she keeps a careful eye out for anything unusual. Ariadne is following on the roofs above her.
Perception Esme:
Perception Ariadne:
Knowledge Arcana Esme:
Knowledge Planes Esme:
There is sudden gag as Ninefingers swallows his cigar. Ayeeeeeeeee, of course the Paladin blurted out he's a companion. So much for me bluff.
"Twas the perfect time to ask 'im questions. His gums could've been flappin'"
Aldo scoffs and waves away the suggestion of the flashy rogue possibly being an Earl's son and eyes Artegal and Ninefingers both with suspicion as he reveals that Dimitrio is their companion. "Hmmph, I haven't seen the mayor tonight. Odd that. It's likely too late to go meetin' folk now anyway. Once the Theatre show is done, the dance will end too." He says and turns to watch the dancing again.
Mari slaps Dimitrio on the arm playfully, but does not withdraw her hand. Instead she grips his shoulder and pulls herself close to him so as to whisper for his ear alone.
"Oh-Livi-ahh! Did you see us dancing! You must treat everyone with a performance as well! Eh? Eh?!" she holds her arms out to the crowd, calling for support.
Olivia gives Mari an exhausted look, but as the pretty young redhead and several of Mari's friends join her in cajoling Olivia and Gregorio to perform, she breaks into a genuine smile and turns to her brother. Gregorio is already holding his spear-head shaped pipe in his hands, ready to do his part. Olivia unscrews the cap off the end of her whip handle and unfurls a trio of bright yellow ribbons twice the length of her body and the crowd clears back to give her wide berth. Even the musicians set down their instruments, glad of a break and eager to see a show themselves.
Olivia cracks her whip and speeds out into the clearing, leaping and spinning and flipping with graceful ease, as Gregorio launches into a lively tune that seems to match her steps precisely. It almost seems as if he lifts her into the air by his music alone. The ribbons spin out in wide sweeping arcs as Olivia's whip lashes out to rend the night air, punctuating the music with it's percussive crack. The crowd joins in, clapping along. It is a breathtaking performance and nearly everyone present is watching Olivia and Gregorio with rapt attention. Even the Constable watches them, although with the same sour look on his face as when he watched Dimitrio and Mari dance as well. here!
Mari-diplomacy:
Aid another:
Aid another:
Aid another:
Aid another:
Olivia-perform(dance)
Olivia-perform(acrobatics)
Gregorio-perform(wind instrument)
Mari-stealth
Neveryoumind!
Neveryoumind!
Neveryoumind!
Esme notes the sounds of the dance and Olivia's performance as do the rest of the party travelling south from the Inn toward the Town square. The storm is drawing closer as the low rolling thunder is now graduated to sharp cracks and rolling lightning can be seen in the clouds above that blot out the stars overhead. A misty fog has been developing and now creeps along the deserted streets and alleyways on the north side of town. Ylva leans heavily into Rannveig's leg and whines slightly, looking up at her pack-sister anxiously. Esme, Ariadne is growing increasingly anxious and wants very much to be by your side.
Arriving at the dance, Rannveig, who would ordinarily be taken aback by the display of color and noise, instead looks around purposefully. Not immediately spotting Dimitrio, she growls softly to herself. Closing her eyes, she raises her face up, sniffing.
No. Not enough.
She lays her hand on Ylva's shoulder, drawing once again on the comfort of the familiar presence...and this time a bit more. With a mental shrug she couldn't quite describe if she tried, she reaches out to her friend's essence, takes ahold of her own, and mingles the two. The change is subtle - most would probably not even notice anything occurred - but when Rannveig's eyes snap open again, the uncertainty that usually fills them is gone. She raises her nose to the wind again, and sets out through the crowd, searching for mustache wax, cologne, and very likely a girl; the familiar scents that would inevitably mark out Dimitrio.
Mari slaps Dimitrio on the arm playfully, but does not withdraw her hand. Instead she grips his shoulder and pulls herself close to him so as to whisper for his ear alone. "If you'll stop teasing me, I think I know a place we could go... But we'll need a distraction to slip away." She pulls away and turns to look around for a moment. Then that wicked smile returns as her eye falls on Olivia.
The rogue smiled, "Never let it be said that Dimitrio is just a tease but tease is part of the game." Dimitrio looked around and shrugged his shoulders, "There should be plenty of opportunity to slip away once drinking starts in earnest."
Mari turns to you and winks and points to a street heading southeast from the square and then takes advantage of rather clever distraction she's managed to stage and slips off through the crowd and into the shadows in that same direction.
Being on the road for a while, the dancing, the drinking, the eager, beautiful girl at his side was too much for the rogue to resist. Nonetheless, Dimitrio's instincts kick in one last time and the rogue looks about trying to ascertain the crowd and Mari's intention.
Mari's perfume and her eagerness was too much. Tossing care to the wind, the rogue followed the girl. "Lead on girl; I'm right behind you."
Luc's eyes move from the constable to the dance floor then back to the constable. "Another tankard? He asks Aldo.
The constable sees nothing beyond Olivia's performance as he has been watching her closely, he still has the same sour look on his face, but his eyes are wider now and he has even gone up on his toes when necessary to keep her in view.
Mari was being careful to slip away unseen, but since Ninefingers is attempting to keep an eye on Dimitrio and the girl he notices the direction she is heading as the crowd closes around her, blocking the view.
Dimitrio senses that Mari's intentions are indeed of an "impure" nature and she does not wish to be witnessed slipping away from the dance. But she doesn't seem intent on hurting the rogue... much. One of her friends definitely seems to be in on it as she closes the gap behind her as Mari makes her escape. The rest of the crowd, especially the girl near Gregorio seem genuinely interested in watching the performance. As Dimitrio pauses to observe the scene, he can see why. Azura's children are very talented indeed. Gregorio's quick notes on the pipe sound more like symphony of minstrels than an adolescent on a clay pipe and Olivia floats and spins on the air in such a way it is easy to imagine she could fly in truth like a pixie on gossamer wings.
Esme's fingers twine in her skirts, nervously grasping the fabric without realizing it. What is this uncertainty in the air, almost panic. Is the village fading already and this the chill of the grave I feel? Am I not made of sterner stuff that the warning of a half dead woman should chill me so to the bone? Nay, this shall not stand for I am no chit of a girl to run crying to a strong man with every bluster of the wind.
Even after her inner-dialogue however, she calls for Ariadne, and the panic subsides almost instantly once the familiar has joined her. The young monkey tries to hand her the violin, startling her as she had forgotten asking for it. "Oh! Well this hardly seems the time. And yet, what better time to play than as reality unfolds around us. Still, she slings it onto her back by the case's strap.
Reaching the dance, she abandons Donovan, immediately heading for Artegal. A strong man is no doubt a comfort in strange towns after dark. This lunacy calls for a different breed of man however. One more versed in the spaces between.
Walking up to the halfling, she speaks, "Nathaniel Artegal Boote, attend me, for the time of your testing is upon us. Tonight we learn the cost of mettle!"
Pulling him aside, Esme takes a knee, better to speak to him alone.
"A warning has been given Sir Boote, and we must act upon it before this place doth fade into naught. The dead do speak, Sir Boote, to me and through me to you. This place is thinning they warn, unraveling at the fringes. Open your eyes Sir Boote, and speak to me, speak to me of evil."
So saying, Esme mutters, [b]"Deschide-mi ochii ca s-ar putea discerne scaunul tău de domnie. Turning her head with one eye squinted, she peers at the populace, searching for magical auras.
"Esme, what in the world are you talking about?" Nathaniel speaks as quietly as he can, and glances back toward Luc. “What do you mean, ‘the dead speak to you’? What warning is this? Speak plain, what is it you need me to do, here, now.”
I feel the hair on my neck stand up. It has never been easy to talk to Esme, but her urgency and mannerisms give me a sense that she is afraid, and I do not like it when fear takes hold of anyone.
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"I can speak no more clearly than I am now, Sir Boote. This place is not as it seems and that which is within grows thin, giving way to that which is not.
Tell me Sir Boote, you do see the nature of men's souls, do you not?Evil walks this night and I call upon you to find it, lest we fall unwitting to our unseen foe. Open your inner eye and observe, as I search the same for the space between that which you see and that which is."
Does she understand that it is not always as simple as that. Yes I can sense if there is evil, but an evil intention is not an evil act, and what if there should be some poor man or woman here who has drunken too much, and in a fit of misjudgement feels that they must do something terrible to stop the pain in their heart? Is an Evil thought, an evil intention enough? Often it is not, but I will see what I can see.
"I understand what you are asking, but let us proceed with caution. I am not the sort of person to confront people because their hearts are not in the right place. Judgement is not easily handed out if all of the facts are not understood. Right and wrong are greater and more complicated than good and evil."
Nathaniel concentrates, nods to Esme, and begins a slow walk around the crowd as it is thinning out.
I cannot afford to be wrong. I cannot put an innocent at risk because I am afraid to act, and yet I am afraid to be wrong as much as I am afraid to be right.
Luc gives a strange look at Esme as she pulls the paladin away from him. "So Constable how long does the festival last?" he pulls out two new cigars, he hands one to the Aldo and places the other in his mouth. Better to butter 'im up some. He strikes the flint and steel with practiced hands and lights both cigars.
"So, I 'eard there's quite a few orphans in the village, seems a bit unusual. Any clues on why that occurs?" Take a puff of his spiced tobacco.
Rannveig reaches for that part of herself that is and will always be wolf. Her senses seem to unfold like a ship's sails in the wind, bringing her a cacophony of senses in this urban, human packed place. The sounds and smells grow stronger, and Ylva, sensing that the wolf in the woman is closer to her now, whines again softly and presses her shoulder into Rannveig's leg again.
Something tickles at the Wolf Shaman's senses and she stops focusing on the scents and sounds for a moment and tries to open herself up to this strange sensation, familiar and yet unfamiliar all at once.
The sensation is gone almost as soon as Rannveig was able to focus on it. It felt like the eyes of a great predator had fallen upon them, but Rannveig cannot see anything threatening anywhere nearby.
Artegal takes advantage of the distraction of Olivia's performance to Detect Evil on the surrounding crowd. A few of the people give off a very faint aura that seems to fluctuate as if they were merely entertaining the idea of carrying out an evil intention before dismissing it. Only the Constable and a short, portly man moving through the crowd give off any truly notable aura. Aldo still stares at Olivia as she is finishing her performance with the same unpleasant look on his face.
The constable turns toward Luc and Artegal notices his evil aura weakens as he listens and speaks to Ninefingers, "Festival ends tonight, likely soon now too. Thankee kindly, sir Fivefingers." he puts the cigar in his mouth and puffs a bit too enthusiastically, sending him into a fit of coughing. As he begins to regain his composure, Luc asks about the orphans and the man shrugs and says, "Worthless nomads prolly jump on a merchant 'n train leave their charges for good settled folk to worry over. Happens all the time."