True to her earlier admonition, Annalla expressly forbids Isabella from imbibing anything other than water for the rest of the evening. She on the other hand is quickly weaving and blurry-eyed.
"You are so beautiful," she slurs at her wife. "I don't tell you that enough."
She reaches out and grabs at Chrysa's arm clumsily. "Isn't she the most beautiful woman you've ever seen? And her boobs are to die for." She giggles, surprised at her own usage of language so crude.
Chrysa graciously accepts the first drink, meaning to stop at that. One shouldn't refuse a drink from a place that is so proud of their product. Unless they are just trying to be rude that is.
She means to stop there, but the brew is much stronger than she expected, and soon feels quite warm.
She finds herself with a constantly refilling glass, and then suddenly entwined in the arm of Annalla. "Her... What..." her cheeks reddend to her ears, her gaze jumps to the two in question, engorged on milk and gulps "I... I hadn't noticed." she lied Very Badly.
Chrysa takes a gulp of her ale to hide her fumble, and....
Isabella is about ready to complain about her beverage when Annalla explains it. She scowls and lowers her voice "Enjoy it? The only reason I'm here is so that I can be drinking! You can't take my beer away from me?! My mother surely drank ale while she was nursing me and I turned out just fine!"
Try as she may, she is unable to sneak a drink past Annalla's guard. Finally deciding she's had enough of this nonsense and is going to do something about it. "I need a moment, I'll be right back, need to stretch my legs. Back is killing me." she says, leaning down and kissing Annalla's cheek as she rises.
She smiles at the drunken comment and says "Thank you. You are beautiful too. I think you may need me to finish your drink for you though, you've probably had enough?"
Once she is shut down again, she pulls Chrysa away with her and once they are out of sight, she makes small talk for about five seconds before giving up and saying "Chrysa. Look. I need a favor. Annalla is being ridiculous and won't let me have a damned glass of beer. I need the distraction and their water tastes like piss here. I'm going around the corner there, bring me a mug full to the brim. Oh. And don't let Annalla see you. THANKS!"
Isabella looks over at Annalla and smiles, making a show of stretching before dipping around the corner.
Chyrsa stares very intently on Bella's face, very very very firmly not letting her eyes dart down to the milk boulders that she swears are waving at her. "Yes... drink. OF COURSE, That horrible wife keeping you from your preferred drink." she puts her hand on the other woman's shoulder "I am the GODMOTHER, and one of the gods is... that Cayden guy, who supports drinking mothers of all kinds, so I am required to help you!"
She tries to slip through the merrymakers away from the gaze of Anna.
Isabella grabs the shorter Chrysa by both shoulders and brings her face crashing towards her right into her enlarged chest, pressing her face into her breasts as she says "THANK YOU!". She lets her go and gasps, "Now go, quickly! And stay clear of Anna!"
----
Isabella rocks back and forth on her heels, waiting for Chrysa to arrive with the golden chalice of decadence. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon" she says impatiently looking over her shoulder. "What's taking so long!?"
Annalla watches her wife walk away and a moment later give Chrysa a hug. Chrysa then heads over and grabs a second mug of beer. She wonders in confusion for a moment why the rogue would need to drink with both hands. Her eyes narrow with suspicion as comprehension slowly trickles down into her non-biological brain.
She rises from her bench to confront Chrysa.
"Yes," she responds to the woman's attempts to distract her. She touches her own chest with a finger. "Boobs." She reaches out and pokes Chrysa bosum. "Boobs." She leans to look at the mug she dangles behind herself with her hair. "Beer."
"That wouldn't, by any chance, be for my wife, would it?" she asks. "Because if my son's own godmother was dish-disobeying my reshtrictions. I might have to rethink her ... appointment."
"Wait.... wait.... you'd divorce Bella because of dishes?" she looks deeply at Anna in worry before she realized She is the Her and her appointment is "NO! You can't take that away, once a GODMOTHER always a GODMOTHER. I saw that written somewhere. I think it was a tattoo.. Unimportant Detail." she stares at the woman in front of her and then teleports behind her. "HA! Obstacle Avoided." she gives into her happy dance since victory is hers, spilling both drinks ALL over.
Chrysa looks at the sodden mess of beer suds all over the place and frowns. She has failed, in that she knows, and feels a deep sadness at the failure. 'Part of her brain is shaking her head in WTF, but that part is deep underwater.'
"Bella needs beer, Anna." she turns to face the other woman. "just one? please." she looks in one of the mugs, which remarkable still has half. "Just this much?" she shows Anna the beer in the mug, quite slowly, and with measured grace (). "How did..." she exclaims in shock as the foamy liquid jumped straight out of the mug, and is now dripping from the androids cheeks.
Annalla blinks and reaches up to wipe the remainder of the beer from her face. She looks down at the few swallows left in the mug and gives a curt nod. "Fine. She can have what's left in the mug," she says. She lifts a hand with a single finger raised. It wavers slightly as does the android. "If either of my sons end up sick, Chrysa, I'm hold ... urp ... holding you personally responsible."
Her smile turns bright as a daisy waving in the sunlight. Pulling herself from the impulse to kiss her in thanks, probably rather sloppily, she instead solemnly nods "I accept the re-spon-si-bil-ity."
Then around the corner, with extreme carefulness, Chrysa presents the mug to Bella "Anna found me." she admitted with a sigh.
Isabella looks at the beer all over Chrysa as she approaches "For the love ... Chrysa! Did you leave any in the mug?!" She takes the mug and raises it to her lips and is about to drink it down when the Godmother of her children tells her that her wife is on to them.
She pauses, sighs and lowers the mug. She sets the mug on the ground at her feet and stands up, patting Chrysa on the shoulders "Thank you for trying. I can't do it now." She walks around the corner and looks for her wife. Holding her hand, she asks "Dance with me?"
"But... I accepted res-pon-" the stricken rogue tries the word again, but sighs defeatedly. "she probably planned that" she shakes her head, then decides to slump to the floor in shame.
Annalla stumbles into her wife's arms, ignoring the outstretched hand entirely. Already weaving to music that isn't really tempoed for dancing, her arms slide around Isabella's body.
"Did you enjoy your beer?" she asks as they sway awkwardly.
Isabella, who has had no alcohol despite desperately wanting some, steadies her wife and holds her up. "Annalla, I did not have any beer. I wanted to have some beer, but it looks like Chrysa poured it all over herself and then she told me you found out so I decided that despite wanting some really badly, I'll forego for the children. "
Annalla is not her normal dancing self and their dancing is greatly subdued, though it still fairly lively. She tries to avoid spinning Anna, afraid she might puke from getting dizzy. "Are you enjoying yourself tonight?"
Annalla pauses in her swaying to look at her wife. "You are such a good mother," she says, reaching up to pat Isabella's cheek. "I think I prefer wine over beer," she says with a frown. "But other than that, it has been interesting watching the others negotiate and ingratiate." She smiles. "That's a fun word ... 'ingratiate'." She repeats it a few times with different emphasis each time.
She leans in to kiss Isabella's neck. "If I let you have some beer, would you take me back to our room and have your way with me?" she whispers with a giggle.
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
Sootscale was small and certainly not the type to drink lots of alcohol. But if there was anything he could tell about Maegar Varn, it was that he respected someone who could hold a drink!
Well, Sootscale was up to the challenge. It was just a matter of treating the alcohol like any other strange alchemical concoction that he would ordinarily imbibe. He grabs a mug of whatever it was they were serving. Sniffing the contents, he steels himself and takes a sip. "Hmm . . . not too bad." He starts to walk around and clank his mug with anyone who happens to be at his level, which largely consists of children. "For great celebration and success!" he toasts.
As the night goes on, a few people start getting drunk, but it seems that Sootscale is still going strong. "King Sootscale love Cheerful Delver Stout! Black like kobold scales, good drink for good peoples." With the party getting wilder, he climbs onto the tabletop and starts to dance, clanking mugs with the men of Varnhold.
It seems King Sootscale is still holding his own, as men many times his size begin to falter. There was only one challenge left. "Baron Varn! King Sootscale challenge you to contest! See who is greatest drinker of the land!" He saunters up to Maegar, confident that with his alchemically enhanced fortitude, he could prove once and for all the greatness of the kobold race. Clanking mugs with the leader of Varnhold, he downs the entire thing. And then a second one. And then a third!
<Gurgle. Glug. Glop.> "Uh oh, Ipmeek not feel so good . . . " he says, as he hurries to the latrine. It seemed that King Sootscale had finally reached his limit.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Isabella laughs when it becomes clear that her wife has clearly had too much to drink. When their dancing becomes more of the android leaning heavily on her with giggles and kisses, she declares "I think perhaps one of us should not drink because the other is probably going to feel sick in the morning and won't want to take care of the children."
"Go Sootscale!" she cheers on, watching his drinking contest from afar. When he dashes off, she laughs and says "Perhaps we should do the same. No, Anna, not go to the latrine. Retire."
She announces that the pair would be retiring for the evening, claiming to be exhausted and needing her sleep. She bids everyone goodnight and half-carries her wife back to their room, making sure she doesn't trip and fall down.
She replies with soft laughter to most of Annalla's claims of being the best mother and having amazing anatomy parts while they walk "Thank you. Yes, I love you too. Yes, I do like my breasts too. Thank you, I do. Of course."
A very sober Isabella closes the door to her room to have her way with her wife, wondering how long she has before she's interrupted with childcare duties.
Sophiel nods silently, smiling slightly, when Varn talks about telling tales later, and follows the inkeeper up to the room she'll share with Chrysa. She looks around for a safe place to stash their things, and seeing nothing, furrows her brow and sighs. Before the innkeeper leaves, she asks, "the door is lockable, yes?" When the keeper nods, she pockets the key, and excuses herself for a moment. She heads to the lavatory for a few minutes, and returns, with her hair down, and her jacket loosened unbuttoned slightly.
When she returns in a few minutes, Sophiel goes to the bar and orders a mug of the Cheerful Delver, which she downs slowly, watching the ribald behavior, watching all the behavior from the side of the room. This was a noticeable deviation from how she typically acts, which was not to drink at all.
She watches the nobility, including King Sootscale, ingratiate themselves to Varn, as they revel in the party atmosphere. She leans quietly against the wall, sipping the sudsy brew. When she sees Isabella try to procure alcohol, she frowns slightly, and steps forward for a moment, before sighing and returning to her place, nursing the beer, and seeming to will herself to pay attention to other things.
She smiles as Chrysa has fun, though, happy that her friend can play along and work well in this environment, and grinning happily as Sootscale tests himself against Varn's drinking ability. These expressions fade after a bit, and she blinks, as if realizing something.
She grabs a finger of a harder liquid, downs it quickly and then approaches the innkeeper. "Miriam, isn't it?" She smiles, "this inn is quite fine, and you've got stiff drinks to boot. Does Varn always carouse like this? She gestures a thumb toward Varn while watching Miriam, seemingly amused at how the mercenary captain is acting.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Cephal smiles at the “child” and replies ”One does not just ‘look’ at a Spellbook, young man. It requires thorough study and delicate handling. Perhaps another time when there is less chance of Lord Varn tarnishing it’s pages with some wayward stout, yes?”
Varn, initially not interested in mingling with the kobold, takes some goading from Willas in the form of a whisper and begins trying to drink Ipmeek under the table. At first he doesn’t take the game serious, but as it goes on, his mood lightens but he still seems intent on making the kobold chieftain pass out. Eventually, though, he settles for an honest toast the “King’s” way and says ”Alright, we’ll call it a draw.”
The bartender, Miriam, at this point is quite intoxicated herself. She simply shrugs and says ”He likesh ta have a good time. But on Merrymead, ishn't the point to cut looshe?” she says with some alcohol induced slurring as she pours more Delver for Sophiel.
By the end of the drinking, Cephal is leaning heavily on his staff, Miriam is dancing on a table amidst much laughter, Willas is seemingly arguing about something with Ervil, who is passed out on the table beside him, and Caspar is over by the river, puking.
Eventually, Maegar clambers up on a table and calls out loudly ”WHO WANTS A STORY!?!?” to a clamor of cheers from his people around him.
He walks, well, staggers along the length of the table as he weaves his story to everyone, using liberal use of body language while miming out his tale, “When the we first arrived here, this whole area was infested with spriggans. The little bastards attacked thought us easy prey, because they clawed their way out of their holes and hovels and tried to kill us! But the Varnling Host isn’t so easily defeated!” he says with a thump on his chest. ”Cephal here threw balls of fire at the horde! Willas, channeling his Ulfen blood, cleaved through wave after wave of them with his blades while standing back to back with me as we fought for our very lives! Miriam here damn near was killed by a bolt from one, but thankfully Father Morgarian,” he pauses, looking around before finding Caspar still wretching at the river. He chuckles and shoots a thumb the priests way ”Was better at healing than drinking it seems!”
A hearty chuckle rolls over the crowd before he continues. ”Eventualy the Chief came. Bald little punk suddenly grew from the size of a halfling to the size of a hill giant! Him and all the rest of ‘em! We knew we were in for the fight of our lives if we couldn’t run ‘em off!” He draws his elegant longsword, the blade glowing a faint silvery light. ”So, I pointed my sword at the leader and told the others to bring him down! So we all focused on him and managed to slay the fiend! The tribe gathered what survivors they could and fled to the hills, and that is when Varnhold was born!”
A loud cheer rises up from the gathered town. Varn then turns towards all of you and holds out his arms invitingly. ”Come, my honored guests from the Greenbelt! Surely some of you have some tales of your adventures! I’m sure everybody here is bored to death hearing mine all the time!” The crowd chuckles at his self deprecating joke.
__________
Sophiel nods at Miriam, and accepts the pour, somehow managing to nurse the single glass of delver for the rest of the evening.
Sophiel clears her throat, and speaks, smiling thinly ”If I may Varn, a simple tale. One that ends in success, but not without tragedy.” She glances about apprehensively and then minds herself, and continues,”we had tracked the army of trolls harassing the green belt to their fort after weeks of investigation...” She steps forward as she speaks, stepping up onto a chair and speaking in a clear voice. She relates their investigation of the troll lair, using clear metaphor and language, gesturing and adding a few jokes here and there.
Chrysa joins in, teleporting onto the table next to Sophie "It was HUGE, teeth yellow and the size of my arm, pebbling gray skin thicker than Varn's legs, and decorated from toe to nose in the bones of its victims!" she waves her hands out slow to show size, creates little crude bone fetishes with her magic. She embellishes wildly as all good stories should.
King Sootscale cheers on the storytellers from the sidelines. "Yes, we kill many trolls in revenge, after they attack and enslave kobolds. Watch them burn!". Sootscale is delighted with the recollection of his vengeance.
To everyone else, though, the overall effect of Sootscale's message is off-putting and rather a distraction from the main storyline.
He shrugs meekly and decides to sit down with the mighty Willas. [b]"King Sootscale see that you talk with Varn. Thank you. Sootscale surprised you tell tales about Spriggans. What about centaur? You fight many centaurs here?
Ipmeek was genuinely interested in the centaurs. Though from his perspective, the centaurs could be a friend rather than a foe.
Most of the town cheers the story. The rest are either passed out, too drunk themselves to pay attention, or are busy tending to inebriated children.
Willas looks at Ipmeek, confused as to what he is talking about. The Ulfen man simply grunts dismissively and turns back to his argument with the unconscious bard beside him.
The rest of the evening and night is filled with more booze and revelry. Eventually though, sleep (or intoxication) claims the crowd and everyone disperses to...recover.
__________
Everyone awakens to the new day somewhat worse for wear courtesy of the bountiful amounts of booze taken in the night before. As folks make their way downstairs to the common area, you see Ervil sitting at a corner table, clutching his head in both hands as Father Caspar trying to be supportive of the man’s woes. Miriam can be seen cleaning off other tables in the room.
__________
Eventually Baron Varn and Willas make their reappearance. Willas appears as gruff as usual, and Maegar appears to have survived the night well enough. His clothes are clean and he appears to have a fresh shave and hair cut since you last saw him. His beautiful sword hangs at his hip and his clothes are finely pressed. He approaches again with arms outstretched and a broad smile. ”Ah! I see you all have survived! Thank Cayden!” he says with a wink.
As he walks with you through the center of town, he asks you ”So, how goes things in the Greenbelt? I hear you have had issues with trolls and an owlbear? Is there anything I can do to help?” he asks sincerely.
Sophiel nods cheerfully, and chuckles when Chrysa teleported next to her, steadying the tipsy rogue. Sootscale’s addition was welcome, and she nodded at his description. ”True enough!” She added, and finished relating the story, describing everything, but conspicuously leaving out the part where Orri’s corpse was vaporized and he woke up later. Her serviceable description seemed to have the effect she wanted, and she stepped down after a few minutes, taking a bow and blushing, trying to keep Chrysa steadied. She joined her friend on the dance floor, still light on her feet despite the alcohol, and she danced with the rogue, the alchemist, Varn, and even a genteel dance with Vincent, seemingly tireless for much of the night, though her hair grew more stray and wild, and there was a blush to her cheeks and a cheer that was rarely present. The drink affected her some, it seemed, and after not too long, she dragged the semi-conscious form of her friend to their shared room, putting the rogue to bed, and collapsing herself a moment later.
————————————————————————
The next morning, Sophiel is seen at the bar, drinking a strange red tonic, and contemplating the “ruins” of the inn. The others are passed out or barely functional, and she raises a glass to the others as she spots them, offering the spicy tonic to all who request it, though how Sophiel has seemingly downed a pitcher of the stuff is not immediately apparent. She’s dressed in the businesslike manner that she had when she first arrived, and seemingly prepared for whatever else Varn would throw at her.
When Varn appears, she nods, ”you are an excellent host, Master Varn. We are in your debt.” She smiles at the broad, powerful man, and adds, ”it was perhaps more than some of us are used to, I think.”
She follows at Varn’s side, speaking to the captain with her hands folded in front of her, ”indeed. You have a keen ear. One of the barons had his settlement devastated by a mutated beast that was beyond my reckoning. Research proved fruitless. The creature was seemingly set against him, though we know not how. We are inclined to assume that something like this could strike against any of the settlers in, well, the stolen lands. Even Varnhold. I doubt the power to do this was exhausted.” She paused, and added, ”the others in my company may wish to speak of their own troubles. The people in my lands seemingly are content - though we do not have celebrations such as you do, perhaps to our discredit.” She smiles prettily at Varn. ”Otherwise, should you like, we would help you with your troubles as well. Some in our company are new to, I suppose what the Society would call “adventuring”, but we’ve mostly survived, with most of our digits and souls intact.”
In the morning, Chrysa has beaten her pounding headache into submission, only wincing at really loud noises. Dressed in her dark colors, neat and tidy, she greets Sophie, leaning forward to tell the half elf “You are an excellent dancer, Lady Medvyed. That is at least one memory of the evening I have retained and will keep to the end of my days.” a wry smile and a wink later she moves off to talk to Miriam, if she can convince the innkeeper to spare a moment or two.
-------------
That afternoon, after a healthy amount of time spoiling her godchildren, Chrysa meets up with Sophiel again, hoping to compare notes only to find Varn there. Her eyes narrow a bit at the offer of their aid, but she hides it quickly enough only Soph hopefully noticed. “The famed mercenary commander, I’d imagine, is quite capable of dealing with any threat. Still, exploration helps us all and might provide us clues on this threat that is focused in to our lands. Are there areas of concern?”
Varn shrugs. ”Our troubles are well in hand. The centaur are a nuisance at their worst at this point. It saddens me to hear of your troubles in the west, though. I am hopeful that our various baronies can live peacefully and prosperously with one another. To hear that one of yours has been savaged so...that doesn’t sit well with me.”
He thinks a moment after the two women’s words and then says ”Look. Varnhold has had it’s own problems, but we are doing alright. Let us help. I will arrange for a shipment of supplies to lend aid to your beleaguered nation in three months time. By then the pass through he mountains should be cleared of snow, making the journey a good bit shorter. A show of good faith between us. In return, perhaps one day Varnhold will be in need with no hope of repayment, as you are currently, and you might show some good will our way.”
He smiles casually and adds ”Plus, we might work out some forms of formal trade in the meantime.”
Chrysa doesn't feel like they are in need with no help of repayment in the least, but her town was not the one trampled to death by a giant owlbear "We appreciate any help you can give to those in need." she looks up and the giant man (to her at least) and smiles "Thank you, Varn. You are a good person."
Chrysa warms up to the prospect of trade greatly. Talking about fabrics, and bows, gold mines and moon radishes. "We've established a route into Restrov that has turned a nice profit. How about you? Being even closer to them I'd imagine it was trivial."
Sophiel nods slowly, at the offer. ”Some in our company could certainly make use of whatever help you can provide. We have provided what assistance as we can, but it has not seemed sufficient.” She chuckles, ”we are not all suffering from enemies within and without. Though as you astutely observed - fates can change quickly, and we must all be mindful of the portents of such change.” Her eyes glitter, and she appears lost in thought as she trails off.
When Chrysa mentions trade routes, Sophiel nods and bops onto her heels, ”and I control the northern Tuskwater, should you wish for river trade, I’m certain we could build the necessary infrastructure for such things.” She waves her hands idly. ”We’ve managed to get a stable supply of rare woods for example - one which should replace itself quickly enough that such a thing will not be exhausted should we manage well.”
You all begin returning to your city-states in the Greenbelt. You travel along the northern road to Shadowfall before turning south, leaving Chrysa behind to tend to her own affairs. After passing by the Kobold “Kingdom,” and parting ways with Ipmeek, Orri elects to rush home cross-country to return to Orrville as quickly as possible to aid in the reconstruction efforts, with Vincent in his company.
Annalla, Isabella, and Sophiel all turn towards Gliocas. After a days travel, they arrive to very somber and stern faces, many of which are glaring at Annalla and Isabella. It doesn’t take long before members of the city watch arrive along with Kesten Garess, Alidar, Balis Silverbow, Andrea Brightdawn, and Sila Chervis, all members of Lady Medvyed’s court. They immediately move protectively around Sophiel as Sila raises her weapon and points it at the two women of Gealladh Dòchas and announces ”Ladies, I hereby place you under arrest for the crimes of your nation against the people of Gliocas!”
Sophiel raises an eyebrow and then laughs, ”come now everyone, there’s no need to be so protective, first, if they could have hurt me, they had ample opportunity in the last few days. Second - before anyone is arrested for anything, I’d love to know what they supposedly did.” She has a flinty look in her eyes, the suggestion carrying the weight of an order.
She gestures vaguely, ”weapons away, if you please.” She turns to Annalla and Isabela. ”I haven’t the foggiest idea what this is about.” She turns back to the others, ”well? They don’t have all day.”
Annalla throws an accusatory look in Sophiel's direction before stepping between the weapons and the babies. Blue light swirls along the traceries on her arms and forehead mimicking the spells spinning and dancing in her mind.
Sophie rolls her eyes at Annalla as she waits for some sort of explanation.
Sila speaks up ”About a dozen or so men of there city were spotted in our borders. Our scouts rode out to speak with them and were immediately attacked! Our men fell back and gathered reinforcements before meeting them head on and pushing them out. We captured one of their men who has confessed the whole thing as they were given orders!”
Alidar steps over and leans in close to Sophiel and whispers to her.
"I wish to speak with this person that claims to be from my city and acting under my orders," Annalla demands.
Sophiel speaks with Alidar briefly and then rubs her the bridge of her nose, and closes her eyes, ”They may have been lying. Or mind controlled. Was there any investigation? Where is Marcanth? Send for him immediately.” She opens her eyes, ”lower your weapons. We have nothing to fear from them. I have nothing to fear, as well.” She gestures, and they hesitate. Sophiel clenches her teeth, ”until such time as I have passed on responsibilities to the others - I am the administrator, am I not?” She says simply, ice in her voice, ”now.”
She takes a moment, ”they have children with them, for the sake of the Eldest. Would they risk the children’s lives to attack us? Think clearly. Take three breaths. Practice mindfulness.” She gestures, ”neither are in any fit state to attack anyone. Though if Bella wished to, she could kill most people here in a matter of seconds. Our weapons are useless against her, for the most part” The assembled people lower their weapons, some reluctantly, and most put them away, though they remain interposed between Sophiel and the pair. None had been threatening the children, but those who had come closest to doing so look embarrassed.
Sophiel smiles, sighing, ”they do not have the resources for such an endeavor. And even if they did, and had a mind to attack us... which they don’t. Again, they have had ample opportunities to kill me... they would have done so in a way that wasn’t so ineffective.” She taps her head, ”think. Orrville was nearly destroyed. Someone has a mind against all of our neighbors. An unseen foe. I suspect them long before Isabella and Annalla.”
When Annalla demands to speak to their accuser, Sophiel says, ”my dear, I am sure you didn’t have anything to do with this - but your wish is meaningless.” She waves dismissively, ”I would speak with this “invader” first with Marcanth, once he gets here and then we can speak with Annalla directly, and then she can speak with him.”
When Annalla demands to speak to their accuser, Sophiel says, ”my dear, I am sure you didn’t have anything to do with this - but your wish is meaningless.” She waves dismissively.
Sophiel's response is like a slap in the face to the android. She takes a step back and her face flushes.
She takes a step closer to Isabella. "Thank you for making your feelings clear," she says in a clipped voice. "Then when it pleases Your Highness, we would like to get our sons inside and out of the sun. I would also like to petition the ruling powers that we may feed them."
She leans in and whispers to Isabella.
Sophiel chuckles in response, "Annalla, you're the one threatening people and making demands. For reference, I am an administrator, and my job is to protect the people who trust me to do my job. People who were harmed, seemingly, by your people. I don't think you had anything to do with this, as I said, but instead of ordering people around and menacing them, why don't you try to work with me? I have no idea what's going on myself. Our first duty is to the truth, here." She pauses, "nobody was going to hurt you or your kids. What kind of person do you think I am." She looks genuinely hurt, but then sighs, "you've been in the sun a total of fourty seconds, and it isn't like you're carrying Tristian and Tremaine anyway. You always foist them onto your maids..." She shakes her head, the same look of disgust seen at Varnhold, and then composes herself.
She tilts her head, and a significant number of burly-looking men and women of different races emerge from the ruins of the castle, wearing wild-looking expressions and accompanied by varying animals. Sophiel smiles at them, and pats Alidar on the shoulder, "well done." She waves towards the academy. "please see that my friends are well supplied."
She turns back to Annalla, "you will find every comfort in this place that we can afford you."
She takes a pause, and then says to the others in a loud clear voice, "let it be known, by temporary decree, that should Annalla and Isabella wish to leave, that they be afforded the right to do so. However, leaving before the resolution of the case will be an admission of guilt, and by our code, Section A.2. the punishment afforded to them will be exile from Gliocas for a period no less than three years. Further capital offenses against Gliocas from now until a period of three years from now will follow the standard escalation of punishment per amendment III of Subsection C.III.a.i." She bows at Annalla and Isabella respectfully. "I do not rule, here, Annalla. The code rules here. One which we all worked on, together. You do not understand what you are dealing with. If you are guilty of this crime, you did not cross me - you crossed a nation of self-determined individuals." Sophiel bows to Annalla as respectfully as she can.
Sophiel is concealing her anger pretty well. She doesn't seem like she's deceiving anyone, and is pretty confused by the situation.
DC 15 plus - she's annoyed a little by Annalla's imperiousness but is more annoyed at the fact that the others didn't come to Sophiel first to have her intercede. She's almost incandescently angry with her councilors for having been so rude to Annalla and Isabella.
The laws of Gliocas are not too strict - but: It seems that other than some clearly defined capital crimes, there's very little permanent punishment. Non-capital crimes have remuneration, reconciliation, and making amends. Capital crimes have a step-plan that starts with exile, then jail, then execution. Capital crimes include murder, treason, certain types of sexual assault, and espionage that causes death. They notably do not include punishment for deaths incurred in the event of a war, fairly declared. In this case, it seems as if Sophiel is invoking an executive power that allows her to declare a war was a sneak attack, voiding the typical rules of war, and causing escalation into the crime of a capital crime immediately.
"I have threatened no one, Your Administrativeness. Don't attempt to place the aggression in our hands. It has been your people pointing weapons. Although your assurance that they wouldn't have actually injured us, I take as completely meaningless where our sons are concerned. There has been a claim from someone that someone else from our nation has given orders to carry out aggressive acts. But I have heard nothing but second or even third hand testimony. And simply wish to confront our accusers directly."
"As far as how often I carry either of my sons, I see no need to explain myself. But I will. In our home, it is very rare for me not to be carrying one or the other. But anywhere where their safety is not assured ..." she leaves the implication hanging, "Then we prefer to have our hands free to defend them as may be needed."
"You may claim not to rule here, Sophiel, but that claim is disingenuous. You hide behind the rules that you have created to shield yourself from any responsibility of their consequences."
"I have committed no crime that I'm aware of. Under your laws or ours. I have directed no actions against your nation. I will be patient, however, and trust that you are as good as your word and will let me confront those that say otherwise."
"I have threatened no one, Your Administrativeness. Don't attempt to place the aggression in our hands. It has been your people pointing weapons. Although your assurance that they wouldn't have actually injured us, I take as completely meaningless where our sons are concerned. There has been a claim from someone that someone else from our nation has given orders to carry out aggressive acts. But I have heard nothing but second or even third hand testimony. And simply wish to confront our accusers directly."
At the accusation that Sophiel or any of the people of Gliocas would have harmed children, or even Isabella or Annalla, Sophiel opens her mouth in disbelief as if flabbergasted. It does not appear to be an act.
"As far as how often I carry either of my sons, I see no need to explain myself. But I will. In our home, it is very rare for me not to be carrying one or the other. But anywhere where their safety is not assured ..." she leaves the implication hanging, "Then we prefer to have our hands free to defend them as may be needed."
"You may claim not to rule here, Sophiel, but that claim is disingenuous. You hide behind the rules that you have created to shield yourself from any responsibility of their consequences."
Sophiel, in muted response, looks sad, pityingly even, towards Annalla.
"I have committed no crime that I'm aware of. Under your laws or ours. I have directed no actions against your nation. I will be patient, however, and trust that you are as good as your word and will let me confront those that say otherwise."
Sophiel shrugs, "other than being criticizing you, when have I ever betrayed you, or harmed you, or your family? Ever? When have I lied to you or Isabella?" She adds meaningfully, "when have I betrayed your trust. Annalla." She adds this name with emphasis, enunciating each syllable clearly. She shakes her head in disbelief. "for that matter, how would you have my people act? Like yours? Murdering people in the street that they disagree with? Slaughtering each other?"
She gestures at the people of Tri Firinnean. "We would never do this to you. And nor would I. I feel sorry for you that you think so little of me and us." She does seem really sad. "Leave if you wish, our decree stands," she looks disgusted, and turns away from the pair, letting them do as they wish and conferring with the others, who have now put away their weeapons.
Annalla and Isabella are now free to leave, or follow the druids into the academy to rest.
She's completely sincere. She's very sad about the developments, but she's not sure of any other way to address this.
Isabella listens as the accusations are leveled against them and then as Sophiel and Annalla go back and forth. She lets Annalla do the talking because she's clearly the more level-headed of the two.
She places a hand on Annalla's shoulder and says "Anna. Let us rest."
It's only her desire to question her accuser that prevents the android from turning around and directing her people to leave the city immediately. Instead she glances at Isabella, her look reinforcing her earlier whispered comment.
"Yes, of course," Annalla says to Sophiel in a polite voice. "I'm sure I entirely misunderstood the blades that were drawn upon us earlier. They were totally harmless, no reason to think otherwise. My mistake. We will wait upon your pleasure."
After about fifteen minutes, Sophiel and her cohort, the gathlain Marcanth, come to the Academy. The Academy is not guarded, in any sense of the word, though it is obvious that it is being watched. Annalla and Isabella are clearly able to leave whenever they wish.
Sophiel claps her hands, "So: it sounds to me like one of the racist separatists of your - " she gestures vaguely, "barony" and takes a pause "got it into their heads that a fellow named 'Ismort' ordered him to attack us. So, as a matter of copacetic relations between our fine expanses of lands, I will ask you and Isabella one question. The answer will be, if you please, in the form of a 'yes' or 'no' or even 'I don't know'. Your answer will be recorded by," she gestures vaguely towards Marcanth and then with air quotes says "'magic'. The magic will not harm you, or Isabella, but if you resist it, Marcanth will know, and your answer will be invalid."
She pulls out a small slip of paper, and begins to read, "please be clear, on the rules that I have prescribed, per the code of Gliocas. One: invalid answers are an admission of guilt. Two: the only valid answers are "yes", "no," and "I don't know". Any other answer is invalid. Three: I will ask you and Isabella one question, which is the same question." She opens her hands, "you may choose to avoid this questioning, but given the nature of the crimes, and the previously invoked codes, avoiding this questioning is an admission of guilt, and has been deemed an Invalid response, and the sentence of exile will be enforced, as prescribed in the code. As previously stated, guilt is also triggered by invalid answers, so please practice mindfulness." She puts the slip of paper away, which appears to have been printed neatly and folds her hands in front of herself, leaning forward slightly, graciously, and kindly. "If you agree, you may both say yes. If either of you disagree, please say 'no', with the understanding that lack of agreement is an invalid answer and a tacit admission of guilt." She gestures towards both of them. "You do not have to decide now." She looks at the sun outside through the high windows, "if you'd like, I would be happy to give you time and privacy to decide." She gestures, and a veritable conspiracy of ravens departs from hidden areas above.
Marcanth, ever fussy, looks at his fingernails through his spectacles, his wooden wings flapping lazily, and then back at the android and the human.
Sophiel adds, "for what it's worth, I'm sorry we have to do this. It appears someone from your lands came to Gliocas and killed a number of our people. I'm lucky I had the foresight to get a militia mustered. It could have been much worse." Again, she seems sincere. The arrogance of her previous interactions seems to have melted away, and she is only filling a role at this point.
Annalla looks confused at Sophiel's reading of legalese.
"I don't understand. You're asking us if you can ask us a question? Of course you can ask us a question."
She looks to Isabella as if for further clarification and then back to Sophiel. "Was that the question?" She shakes her head.
"Akiros Ismort is our Warden. If he gave this order then he is soon to be our ex-Warden and possibly, soon after that, an ex anything. I'm sure you can understand that I will still need to see and speak with this individual that is claiming that Akiros gave this order."
Sophiel nods, "I apologize." She bows "I have not asked the question. To summarize, I will ask each of you the same question. Please answer "yes", "no", or "I don't know". Your truth will be tested by magic. If you: resist the magic, refuse to answer, or answer with anything other than the prescribed answers, you will be deemed guilty."
She adds, "and yes, aside from everything else, Akiros is my friend, I can't imagine him ordering this. I will help you figure out what's going on, if you'd have me." She shakes her head, "I apologize again for the formality." She looks sad.
"Do you both agree?" She cocks her head.
Annalla looks at Isabella, confusion still on her face.
"I agree that we will answer your question, yes," she replies, a frown on her face an indicator that she still doesn't quite understand.
Sophiel nods, a bit awkwardly, and pulls out another slip of paper from her shirt, one that was folded, and unfolds it, peering at the document. "This is directed towards Annalla," She nods at Marcanth, who appears to be concentrating as soon as Annalla speaks.
"Directly or indirectly, have you ever ordered any entity, citizen or otherwise, to perform an aggressive action directed towards the people, environs, flora, or fauna of Gliocas?" She waits for Annalla's response, and looks for Marcanth's gesture.
"No," is Annalla's response. She looks to Marcanth to confirm her answer.
Marcanth nods, affirmatively. It's as if air is let out of a balloon in the room. Some more animals file out quietly.
Sophiel smiles, happily, "I assumed this was a just a formality. Isabella, the same question to you: Directly or indirectly, have you ever ordered any entity, citizen or otherwise, to perform an aggressive action directed towards the people, environs, flora, or fauna of Gliocas?" She again waits for Marcanth.