Alice steps over to the one who called for mercy.
”We need to return what was stolen. And I think it would calm my very strong friend if you would kindly discuss the Mistress.”
“She and I need to have a fairy-to-fairy talk,” Alice adds, though she’s relatively certain she is nothing like the Mistress and Siobhan is the true incentive for the satyr to comply.
Rachel continues to hold Siobhan until the barbarian has fully calmed down.
Meanwhile, the satyr cocks his head when Alice asks him about the Mistress. "We cannot talk about the mistress," he says in the exact same tone that the satyr outside used.
With a flash of insight, Alice gleans that there is likely some sort of magical compulsion preventing these fey from discussing the one who commands them.
“Oh… you truly cannot!”
Alice asks Felitcia to please talk to her privately.
“Could you ask them if they took orders from a woman my size? If the response is, we cannot talk about the mistress, that might be a yes. To test that, please ask another if they took orders from a woman taller than you and see if you get a just plain no. If this works, we can press for details, like whether the Mistress—but let’s not utter the word—has wings.”
Felitcia was pleased the fighting was over, though seeing Siobhan's state left her a bit shaken. Once Alice spoke to her quietly she nodded in agreement and had an even better idea. "Felitcia moved closer to the satyr and said, [b]"So you can't talk about the Mistress? Hmmm, does that only include talking about her? Could you write about her? Could you gesture yes, no, or unsure," Felitcia nodded her head, shook her head, and shrugged her shoulders to indicate a gesture for each response,"about her?"
The satyr gives a little nod, though it seems even this takes a lot of effort.
Felitcia eyes lit up in delight. "This is just like when I was on an episode of supernatural under a geas and the brothers had to find a way to get information from me!" She was obviously quite pleased with this and said to Alice, "You know more about the fae than I do, as long as you stick to questions about the Mistress that can be answered as yes, no, or maybe/don't know he should be able to respond in gestures."
Rachel quirks an eyebrow. "Damn. How long was 'Supernatural' on the air?" she asks in disbelief.
Felitcia considered and then said, "Oh, it ended about a year before I was brought here, give or take. Can you believe it ended up with fifteen season!"
"Fifteen? Holy crap," Rachel says, dumbfounded.
"I once again stare into the void..." Jed says dramatically, falling to his backside.
He was fine, of course.
Alice asks the satyr yes-no questions,
“Is she big like them?” (Felicia and Rachel, she means. If a fairy is big like Siobhan, it might be best not to talk about the Mistress.)
“Is she small, like me?
“Does she have wings?
“You boys are so talented! Can you draw her?
“Did she ask you to steal?
“You didn’t kill. Has she ever asked that of you?
“Has she given any order to kill?
“Please write her name.”
Richard smiles and shoots a glance at Alice. Fey, he had read about, were tricky creatures but had loopholes that could be worked around.
The satyr shakes his head to answer in the following order:
No.
Yes.
Yes.
No.
Yes.
No.
No.
When she asks him to write the Mistress’s name, he reaches out with a trembling hand. But then his whole body starts to shudder. His eyes roll up into the back of his head and he slumps to the floor. He is not injured, but he is unconscious, and no amount of shaking seems to rouse him.
By the time Siobhan has regained her composure, the satyr has collapsed into a coma after providing what answers he could.
"...I'm alright." She says, trying to straighten herself up. "Let's... let's find this Mistress and end this."
Searching through the crates and barrels here, you can see that most of the cargo is simple trade goods like bolts of cloth, bundles of wheat, and the like. A case of wine has been thoroughly ransacked. Of note, though, is a finely crafted mithral chest with a silk-lined interior. The chest is empty, but a note inside indicates that it previously contained some sort of magical amulet that was on its way to a wizard in Oppara for further study.
There is also a runestone containing a +1 weapon potency rune.
Alice replies to Siobhan, “She has to be stopped, but she hasn’t killed, and so we shouldn’t.” The British showed no mercy to thieves, at least not the poor ones. The wealthy could legally cheat others into starvation and get a giant key from the mayor. Every important gentleman donned a top hat for such an occasion!
Americans just used guns and ropes, so it was explained to her. In Siobhan’s time, you probably got impaled for most offenses.
“Fey have rules,” Alice explains. “That is… I think so. Like not writing the Mistress’ name is a rule,” she says to the still-awake satyrs. “And because I honor your request for mercy, I shan’t ask another of you to attempt to give the name again, now that I know that happens.”
She wonders if her fey nature helps her interpret what she’s noticing correctly… or is Alice’s imagination doing its thing again?
It would seem that Alice’s assumptions are correct as to the rules governing the fey. The satyrs nod gratefully as the interrogation ends.
Alice says to Felitcia, “It seems I truly do know fey, as you said.”
To the satyrs, “So I imagine you know the rule where a fairy granted you mercy; therefore, you are not to trouble the humans and their wagons again. I can tell you that taking advantage of my kindness carries a far more dire consequence than attempting to spell the Mistress’ name.”
She glances at Siobhan as she speaks of consequence.
The satyrs seem suitably cowed by Alice's threats. There's too much cargo here for you to carry back to town by yourselves, but you can mark the location on a map and inform the mayor of Old Sehir so that he can organize his own recovery efforts. You return to town and do just that. The mayor thanks you profusely and gives you the promised reward of 100 gp. "You can keep the axe, as well," he says. "It deserves to be wielded by a fierce warrior once more."
Siobhan is quiet (as usual) when the party returns to town. She taps her new axe against her tattooed thigh.
"Fey aren't bad folk, just like to get into a bit o' trouble. Might have to come back and visit." He says with a mischievous grin.
"Hmm. I'm concerned about that missing amulet, though," Rachel says. "The satyrs' mistress went through a lot of trouble to get her hands on it. What could it be, and what she does she plan to use it for?"
Felitcia was relieved the mission ended so successfuly as they returned with most of the loot they were after. She too found herself worried about the amulet, at least a little, and suspected it would come back to haunt them just like the leader of the fey who seemed to want it so badly. "If all the stories and movies are to be believed we'll loop back to this later when the time is right."
Rachel chuckles at Feliticia's comment. "You know, from what I've seen, Golarion does seem to follow the rules of narrative cohesion."
Alice suggests, “Then narrative cohesion gives us little choice but to bask in our glorious moment at the Old Hitching Post, assuring the townsfolk that we have emerged victorious.
“…amulet aside. We probably don’t need to go into that detail at the saloon.”
That evening, you celebrate in the Old Hitching Post. Plenty of townsfolk have heard that you stopped the faerie attacks, and they are more than happy to pay for you drinks throughout the night.
Rachel raises a glass of beer to the group. ”To the Gaian Explorers! We all fight well together. I’d say our adventuring career is off to a successful start!”
Siobhan stares into her glass and doesn't say anything during the toast. Her hand clenches tightly--and without even realizing it, her aches start to heal themselves.
"...I... I lost my composure back there. I'm sorry." She finally says.
Rachel puts her hand on Siobhan's. "No need to apologize. I think your anger actually made you stronger during the fight. We'll just have to help you keep it in check once the battles are over." She gives the other woman a reassuring smile.
"Oh, you're too kind." Siobhan sighs.
"It was something about those pan pipes... I don't know how it sounded for you, but... it sounded too much like a Roman war horn."
Alice casts Prestidigitation to form a cup she can dip into her shot glass and drink just enough to regret. Her glow is the hue of a pink lady apple after the first glass. She will have food before there is a second. Or fifth. Alice isn’t sure whether she had one glass or a few or several.
She finds an overturned shot glass, slides it closer to Siobhan, and says, “Siobhaaannn… you. You went through….. alllot. You menshhunnned the… the… sufffring brought on by the Romans. You have everrry right—every bloody right—to feel… the way you do. Feel.”
Alice gets up and places her tiny hands on Siobhan’s fingertip.
“You’re among… us. Among… friends.”
Alice lingers a bit, leaning on Siobhan’s finger because the world is spinning and it needs to stop doing that.
Siobhan feels a little better when Alice voices her support--and holds onto her fingertip.
"...thanks." She nods.
Felitcia quickly joined int he drinking, one fo her favorite past times before coming here, but one she was being careful to moderate in this new and more dangerous world. She had begun to change already, becoming more aware of the dangers around her and becoming less self absorbed and arrogant. She was several drinks in when Siobhan began apologizing and went over to her after hearing Alice and Rachel give their support to her.
"Bad s~%@ happened to you but you're here now and we're not letting any nasty old romans get hold of you ever again." Felitcia smiled wickedly as she added, "And if we do find any Romansh we'll make sure to reshtrain them sho you can demonshtrate your dishpleashure on them!" Obviously Felitcia was getting drunk but she wasn't all gone yet.
The painted Celt nods before staring into her beer glass... and proceeding to drain it in one long pull.
"I'll hold you to that."
When Jed is told his drinks were covered for the night, his brows shot up clear to his hair. He gave a massive grin nearly ear to ear and swarmily sidled towards the bar.
And proceeded to do his damndest to make them regret that decision.
Small he may be, but his appetite for poison was mighty, and the drinks went down as fast as they came out. Jed was a one man party, starting games and singing and getting the drinks flowing. People were dancing on tables, rolling around with each other under tables, angrily slamming cards down.
Jed takes care that Alice's consumption is moderated and of the high value variety. Debauchery must be paced, lest they fear not doing it again.
Alice staggers back to her shot glass.
She sits on the wrong glass—the one with her drink in it!—and she slides butt-first into her own drink. She remains there for a bit, knees and arms preventing her from sliding further in and getting stuck.
Rachel is just finishing her second glass of beer and feeling slightly tipsy when she looks around and sees the Jed-inspired chaos happening in the saloon around her. She reached over and gently plucks Alice out of her glass. ”Well, that escalated quickly...” she observes.
Alice giggles as she is rescued. She casts Prestidigitation to dry her dress and says if the potent clear liquid, “I thought the tiny glass was for me… but Jed drinks many and many, over, over again… what a waste of glasses.” She points to the two transparent beer mugs in Rachel’s hand that keep overlapping each other. “Why not just put all the little glasses in… one big?”
Alice takes in the sight of big people. Some are transparent twins, some are blurry, some tilt when the world tilts. The glass seat is stable. The whole of it amuses her.
Richard is surprised by how much he can put down. Drink after drink and he doesn't feel much. Until...hoo boy, he sure does. His vision is blurred as he stares at his hands and the veritable pile of empty mugs in front of him, "My handsh are shtill sho green. Thish never getsh any weirderrrr. Mphm."
Unlike the others, Siobhan doesn't drink herself senseless--if anything, the only alcohol she drinks is the first glass from before.
She eventually gets up from the table and steps outside, sitting on the front steps of the tavern and looking up into the stars.
This is a damnable risk. The Morrígan doesn't take kindly to being questioned... but what else can she do to me now?
"...Morrígan?" She asks, a tightness beginning to form in her chest. "Your omen told me that I was supposed to die that day, yet here I sit. I would never presume to question you as to what your visions mean, but now I find myself at a loss as to what to do next... or even as to why I am here."
"You must have put me in this realm--this 'Golarion'--for a reason. Forgive my impertinence, but I must ask you..."
Her throat constricts for a moment, trying in vain to hold the question back.
"...what must I do now?"
“Why not just put all the little glasses in… one big?”
Jed gasps as if he just realized the answer to the universe itself. "Cute and smart! Bartender, bigger glashes! Maybe a troff" He chortles at the word troff, then promptly forgets what he was doing and goes back to a card game he was losing at.
Felitcia couldn't help but giggle when she saw Alice fall into her glass. It looked like one of those nerds from TV getting folded into a trash can and Felitcia started giggling. Fortunately Alice wasn't in fear of drowning so she wasn't too concerned about her tiny friend.
Felitcia saw Siobhan go outside to get some air but didn't comment on it. She knew the woman had problems and suffered from PTSD. Felitcia was feeling rather playful and more than a bit horny after the celebrating and the drinking and she found her eyes drawn to Rachel. Rachel may have been a bit older than Felitcia's usual type but she was still gorgeous despite that and could easily pass for still being in her twenties.
Felitcia didn't like to admit it but she had been a bit of an anime fan at times and there was one thing that she had always found amusing and wanted to do. Deciding to give in to the trope they seemed to be living one of those tropes and, given how proper Rachel had seemed so far Felitcia couldn't help her mischievous side coming to the fore.
With Rachel distracted helping Alice Felitcia used the opportunity to come up behind her. Smiling naughtily she reached around Rachel and grabbed her breasts, one in each hand and said, "Well now, you sheen to be better endowed than it seems Rachel." She squeezed a couple of times and and then said, "You should join me shome night, I bet I could show you shooooo many thingsh."
Rachel squeaks with surprise when Felitcia suddenly gropes her from behind. "Eek! Felitcia! Wh-what are you doing?" She quickly stands up, blushing fiercely, and turns on the actress.
"You can't just go around grabbing people like that. You're... you're drunk," the oracle says, though judging by the way she is swaying slightly, she seems to be one to talk.
Alice finally finds some water which is actual water and not something potent that burns and makes the world spin the wrong way.
Alice Prestidigitally makes a cup the size of a thimble. Alice sips slowly. Alice sees Felitcia grab Rachel’s breasts.
“PVVVVVVVVVVVVVV!!”—water escapes Alice’s lips in mist form.
She blinks. Averts her eyes. Looks back. And the two women are standing and talking.
This water is more potent than Jed’s.
Alice pushes the alleged water glass away.
Felitcia stumbled back and giggled at Rachel's reaction to her constructive groping. Noticing the way Rachel swayed a bit made Felitcia giggle, "Oh but you're drunk to Rachel." Felitcia's hands exteneded and she opened and closed her fingers like claws as she headed towards Rachel's breasts with them and said, "Shinsh your drunk and ahm drunk itsh alright...right?"
Alice decides to walk down the bar to create a diversion since she’s too drunk to help Rachel talk Felitcia down.
She sees strangers and creates a fan of cards using Prestidigitation. The backs face herself. She cannot see the front, but knows that they are, from strangers’ left to strangers’ right:
• The 7 of Hearts
• The 4 of Diamonds
• The 10 of Spades
• The Jack of Clubs
• The Jill of Stars
• The 6 of Top Hats
• The Queen of High-Heeled Shoes
• The 5 of Kites
• The Ace of Sea Bass
• The Princess of Toadstools
“Pick a card, any card, and don’t tell me what it is.”
In response to Siobhan's question, a sultry voice seems to whisper in her mind. "Go west into the Thistle Barrens. Find the mark of the Morrígan and dig."
***
The bartender nods and acquiesces to Jed's request, filling up larger glasses with liquor to keep the party going.
***
Several people gather around Alice as she performs the card trick. A farmer takes one of the cards from the air, looks at it, and puts it back, eager to see the next part of the trick.
Rachel takes a step back as Feliticia advances again, bumping into the bar. "I mean, you're gorgeous, Felitcia," the oracle begins. "Obviously. And, uh, I mean, of course I would love to get to know you better but, uh... Maybe... Maybe we shouldn't do this while we're drunk. I don't want to... To, uh, take advantage of you..."
The oracle is breathing quickly, and finding it hard to concentrate as the actress closes in.
The deck disappears. Alice casts Prestidigitation, revealing……..
“Is this your card, sir?”
The farmer laughs. "Well, I'll be! That's it! That's my card!" he exclaims. The other patrons applaud and clamor to be the next one to try the trick.
Felitcia grinned as she advanced and saw Rachel bumping into the bar. She continued to advance but rather than groping Rachel she pressed up against her and Felitcia grasped the bar on either side of Rachel's hips to trap her. There was no space between them as Felitcia pressed the length of her body against Rachel's in front of everyone and said, "But shinsh I shtarted thish I'm taking advantage of you?"