Abnaki, fine, you continue to press Osna after his fifth or sixth whiskee or what-have-ye, and he snaps, "Alright, ye stupid pluck! Ye lost yer memories of yer best girl to some dumb crow that flies around in dreams! Ye gambled one too many times and it bit ye in the arse!" He slams his latest shotglass on the table.
Kallik, You notice now, Odebie looks completely elen - no trace of his multicolored eyes or his emerald grin remains. He takes a deep, shuddering breath. "You think these be trees? These are the Feykind that all turned bland for the sake of protecting this damned place and these damned people. And now I'm alone." He sits heavily upon a bare stump, hands covering his face as he weeps.
Samen, Hoot Arcanic's place is locked up tight. You see the remains of powerful abjurations that protected the place last night, and many of them are still in cooldown mode. An educated guess tells you an angry owl (or something worse) lies in wait for anyone who tries to force the door.
After half a candle of searching the quarter, you spot a crude cart loaded with small charms hanging from fine chains. Among the brickabrack, you notice a wooden spoon no larger than your pinky finger, bound to a chain finely-wrought steel. You immediately recognize it for the kind of gruel spoon you seek.
The vendor is a young, tired-looking undine, ears pierced with several brightly-colored studs. He looks up from his work - at a glance, he appears to be practicing the finer points of Benthic calligraphy - and says, "Anything interest you sir?" His tone is polite, and also tired.
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Samen looks over his handiwork and offers some pointers.
"Hmm, not bad, but your majuscule descenders are out of proportion with your minuscules. You want them to draw the eye, but remain in balance. Embellish, but not overpower. As with everything undine, it's all about the flow and motion. I once had the privilege of working in ice for a competition."
He remembers why he's here and gets back on topic. "But yes, I am interested in some of your wares. This spoon, specifically."
The undine stares at you, in awe of your audacity, skill, and tattoos.
"That... that doesn't sound right. I'm sure I'd remember... wouldn't I?" He holds his head in his hands. "Was it worth it? Did the gamble work?" He stands, a bit unsteady from the drink. "I need to talk to those Undines. The dreamers."
"Are you talking about the ones from the sewer, bird? The place where I stumbled into misty volcing purgatory? Why the hell would you want to get mixed up in that cac again? We're tryin' to save yer brain, not pickle it." Osna steadies you, but doesn't seem convinced of where yer drunken arse is going.
**
Samen, the young el shakes his head and says, "Ah, yes. Well, I have to warn you, the stuff tastes awful, but yes, it will keep you alive." He smiles apologetically.
"With a small discount as thanks for the lesson and the advice, that will be 5000 gold." He bows slightly, as if anticipating your rejection.
**
Gabriel, slipping unseen into streets and streams of elenity, you hear their fears. Rumors of dragons growing in Hearth; stories of more war at the southern border of Forest.
Of particular interest to Gabriel -- several noble's mansions were looted in the night. No one was killed, but a fair amount of wealth has been taken from most of the major players of Hearth. No one is sure what the Watch will do regarding Elenity's Guild of Thieves, as they are calling themselves.
"Eh? No, the dark phoenix folks, the ones who caught on fire?"
Frowning and looking around before refocusing on Odebie. Things aren't right. "So the Fey gave up being Fey? They are trees? Please explain."
Bird, was that when I was running around with half my mind asleep and Lord Moony was grinnin' up in the dead sky? I don't remember half the cac that happened that day." Osna laughs bitterly. To take his mind off the past, he compulsively readjusts his coat as he speaks, trying to settle it on his shoulders.
"So where do we find these phoenix-sleeper undine guys? Maybe they're in the next bar over?" He sweeps a few specks of dust from his shoulder with mage hand.
"That's right Kallik Feynothing, there's none of them left anymore. As far as I can tell us damn half-breeds are all that's left. All the true Fey shielded us and thousands of others from all that Moon madness, and now there's no one left."
He let's out a loud belch that reeks of wine and almost-vomit. "So that'ss why I'm drinking," he slurs, "and why I'll keep drinking. You have any better ideas?"
Samen's eyes bulge a little at the cost. "Five thou-!" He cuts himself off, as yelling at this merchant won't accomplish anything useful.
"That's a chunk of change, far more than I was expecting." He pauses for a moment, trying to decide if he has anything else of value to offer.
An idea comes to him. "Tell you what, if you can do it for half that, I can show you how to use that Benthic and a dead chicken to make some horrid abominations. I'm sure it has many practical applications, I just haven't had a chance to study it further. As a purveyor of magical trinkets, I'm sure you could come up with something."
He eyes your tattoos. "No." The undine's voice is thoughtful for a moment. "With respect, I am not interested in your flavor of sorcery. Your mastery of word-art, however..." He rubs a spot on his chest absently.
"I want you to tattoo the names of my family on my chest and arms, in your very best Benthic. If you do this, I will sell the spoon at cost - 1000 gold.
Resuming her walk towards Odebie. Letting her arms fall to her side and trying to look as nonthreatening as she can manage, "If they really are gone then you are doing an awful job of honoring their sacrifice. You lead here and if you are so quick to give into despair then everyone left will do so as well."
Holding out her hand for the bottle, "Give me that so you can recover and lead your elen. They lost the Fey too."
"Deal. Let's begin."
Samen, the young el does his best to remain stoic throughout process, but he yelps a few times, and tears stream from the corners of his eyes now and then. After he regains his composure, he bows deeply (and painfully), and hands you the spoon with a respectful gesture. "Thank you."
"A pleasure doing business with you. It's good to remember the simpler times."
He pays the agreed upon sum and moves a distance away from the shops before calling out Abby.
"This will provide a steady stream of conjuration magic for you. I wouldn't recommend tasting it, but this will provide you exactly what you were looking for."
Samen thinks to Stof, "Anything you want while we're here, your royal grumpiness?"
Sequoya watches in silence as Kallik reaches out, seeking to pull Odebie out of his spiral, being inspiring in spite of herself.
Kallik, Odebie sneers, looks about ready to scream and throw the bottle, then...
his shoulders slump. He hands you the bottle, and you end up in an unexpected hug. "I miss them."
"Oh Say-say, it's perfect! A cool bit of nourishment for-" and her voice looms and crackles for a brief, terrifying second-
"
Without missing a beat, she concludes, "You are such a sweet elen. I owe you a kiss." She swirls happily around in figure-eights of gentle arcane light, humming to herself as she enjoys her new possession.
Samen, Stof gives a brief, neutral sentence from Stof. Protect from wet?
"Understandable and reasonable. However, before I pursue that, I need you to promise me you'll never again attack without warning in the midst of combat. If I am to aid in securing your survival, I must be able to trust you won't seek to harm me or my friends without notice. What do you think?"
Cautious. How much notice? One full candle-time?
Abnaki, yer stumblin' around half-drunk with yer best mate. Not a great way to keep outta trouble. It's still mid-morning, lad.
Osna points to the symbol of the Eternal Phoenix that blazes over the Temple. "Ye said you were lookin' fer phoenixes of some kind, bird. Should we head toward the big fiery one over yonder?"
"A full candle would often, but not always be sufficient.
From what I've observed of you, you don't attack without provocation. You're not merely opportunistic, or you'd kill me while I sleep. You seem to only strike when scared or offended. What I'm looking for is enough time to react to a situation, deal with other imminent threats, and resolve the antagonizing issue before we come to blows.
In the event that you've decided that correcting the situation is no longer possible and that either our paths must diverge or one of us must die, then yeah, at least a candle's notice would be appreciated."
Sequoya, Mishipeshu seems agitated, or perhaps just interested, in something nearby. He is sniffing the grounds loudly and vigorously.
"No, you're right. I've spent too much time focused in on me already. By the Dead Witch and the Grey Father, I'm supposed to be helping people. First thing is finding a cleric that can cast neutralize poison on me, or maybe delay poison. After that is to head over to the Young Elder, and see what the fey need of me. And if the answer to that is nothing, well, I'll walk the streets, and try and offer some hope where I can."
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Abnaki, ye have to wait 'round a bit, but eventually ye get to see a minor priest who gets you fixed up. Yer head is clear. Osna decided to stay bolloxed. "Great success, bird. Had a few drinks and then paid to have 'em gulped out of ye. To the Young Quiet Whatever Elder!"
Samen, after a long pause, Stof says, Oath is given. Agreement. Before drifting back to his inert state, you catch a brief glimpse of a foreign emotion from the dust genie - contentment.
Abnaki, on the way to the Quiet Elder, as you pick your way across the rubble of what used to be a fine restaurant, a crow lands on a tall stone, some twenty feet away from you.
Samen, you receive a brief ping! in your head, like a tiny mallet playing a single, clear note on the glass of your brain.
We can talk more tonight, at deepest dim. Look for a Star high in the dead sky, halfway between Hearth and Light.
Abnaki, ye get a fair slap on the back of the head from Osna's mage hand. Not painful, just irritatin'. "Pay attention, bird! This ain't a great part of town we're waltzing through. Stop staring off at nothin', or I'll think yer mind is driftin' into a puff of cloud again!"
When you look around again, the crow is gone. No sign of it ever being there at all.
Holding out her arms before slowly patting Odebie on his shoulders. "I'm sure you do."
Looking around while the bottle thunks against his back. "I know alot of elen are missing someone with what happened. Everyone is missing someone."
Not sure how but now she is hugging him back. That smug el who pisses her off so easily. Leaning into the hug, "Cant just live life focused on what you lost... You have to focus on what is left."
"The crows are back." Abnaki muses. "They helped me save you, you know. And probably took what I forgot too." He shakes his head.
"Already focused enough on me today. Come on Ozhna, let's see what good we can do for my other patrons, the ones who took my elenity. Too many strings, and who says this is all over yet?" He puts on a buoyant smile, in an attempt to return to the Abnaki of old. "Eh bird?"
Sequoya, Mishipeshu seems agitated, or perhaps just interested, in something nearby. He is sniffing the grounds loudly and vigorously.
Her attention drawn from Kallik's interaction with the strange former fey, Sequoya turns to see what has Mishipeshu agitated, walking over to where he is focused.
Gabriel continues listening, taking notes, he chuckles at the nobles getting robbed...Dragons? That is someething worth noting to the gang, Gabriel will head back with this new information in tow.
Abnaki, Osna laughs in spite of his sourin' mood. "Don't you volcing start. I'll keep the patter goin' around here. Now what say we-"
But Osna's further musing is cut off by the sudden silence surrounding the Quiet Elder. In previous visits, the mere presence of the Fey caused rustlings, murmurings, and twitches of all kinds. Now, there is only the absence of movement and sound. The memory of laughter hangs in the air like dry pollen.
You find a single seed, wedged between the cracks of the floor. Your pry it out. It has a small face, like Shchelchok, the curious plant-person.
Kallik, after another long minute of intense emotion, Odebie starts to pull himself together. Sobs slowly calm to shuddering breaths. He steps back, and looks at you. His face is ugly with tears and drink and lack of sleep, but the smile is beatific. "Thanks."
He tromps away, picking up his equipment and cleaning himself up as he tromps around the tanglewood throneroom. "Give me a minute, and then we'll be on our way."
"Well. That's not normal. I fear something awful has happened here too. Let's see what we can do about it." And with that, he marches further in.
Kallik and Sequoya, Odebie pauses suddenly, alertness showing through his stupor. He sniffs the air loudly. "Gems...?" Sniff. "And Dreams?" Growling, outraged, he shouts, "Coming around here to pick the corpses, eh? Think you can do as you please, eh? Gahh!!!" And without hesitation, Odebie is running down the nearest hall, heavy earthbreaker raised above his head in a warcharge.
Odebie (or, at least, an Odebie drained of most of his Fey features) charges around the corner of the twisting halls of the Quiet Elder, blind with rage. He hurtling directly toward you, heedless of whether you are truly an enemy or not.
friendly reminder, you have met Odebie many times before:
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