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Sithiel giggles in spite of herself as Shalagor "sings" to the frogs. She believes Brik has things well in hand with the gillman. She is quite interested in the trinkets on top of the column of rock, but the yucky centipedes keep her from getting too close. Seeing other coins there, she flips a copper to the top of the column, being careful not to hit a frog.
"I'm not particularly pious," says Sithiel guiltily, "but Arodan was a human god that has since died." She suddenly realizes that doesn't sound too impressive, and adds, "I really don't know the details." She notices Shalagor come to a sudden halt and creeps behind him, peering around his thigh at the kneeling man.
"I've been in chapels before, but this place actually feels...um, sacred. I don't know much about religion, but a lot of the humans back home spoke of Aroden. Hopefully we'll prove the tenants of the Fisherman and Tailor by accomplishing our mission. But the Scholar speaks most to me!" She makes crude, quick copies of the images. "And, in honor of the Shepherd, I'll do what I'm best suited for!" Sithiel casts detect magic and studies the miniature city and the trinkets.
Bing Wu speaks to Azora: "I first saw Sithiel through strange window. She was in trouble. I leapt through and helped. We bonded, and I found myself newly awakened. She taught me much; I learned her languages. I like this world, except there is too much water. Do you speak flame tongue? Would you teach us?" Sithiel and Bing Wu had begun learning Ignan, but they know only a few words and basic syntax so far. They'd love to use this trip to learn the language from Azora. Sithiel regards the sobering Brik in a new light. Such a carefree spirit, she thinks. Not unlike me.
Sithiel feels guilty about the spill. She thought she was rather clever, but now she's not so sure. Focusing on the task at hand, she thinks out loud, "gillmen...full moon...weresharks?" She's never heard of such a thing, but she's already seen a lot today she's never heard of before. A bit louder, and directly to Janira, she asks, "local
Sithiel's initial reaction is wow, he's cute! but then he spoke. She suddenly feels better about the all the social faux pas she has made since entering the tavern. With a weary expression in her eyes, and a slightly fake smile on her face, she says through her teeth, "Aye, that we be!" Then she thinks to herself, hey, if a drunk guy can become a god, a drunk guy can become a Pathfinder and her smile becomes genuine.
Sithiel looks like she's about to cry at the accusation "Bing Wu's not my slave...he's my friend." Then she recovers slightly. "I'm an Andoren and we do not condone forced servitude." Her conviction seems to get stronger. "In fact, we actively work to snuff the practice out." She then continues sagely, almost as if quoting from some tome, "it is the responsibility of a summoned creature to discern the motives of the summoner, and they may refuse any request. All my friends chose me." Her eyes widen again because she doesn't want to come off accusatory, and then she smiles in wonder. "Have you been to the world of flame?" She stares up and up and up at Shalagor, then looks to Oso as her eyes turn into large saucers and she starts quivering. She squeals, "Oso is so cute! Can...can I pet Oso?" Then she thinks again, "I mean, is it even okay to pet--is Oso a boy or a girl? Like, if Oso can, um, reason like a person then I guess that would be weird?"
At the mention of carrying another spirit within him, a look of compassionate understanding overcomes Sithiel's face. When she hears "Chelaxian," anger flashes in her eyes. All the rest she listens to with rapt fascination, laughing at Enrique's jokes. She says solemnly, "When I was growing-up, I'd tell my parents I could hear whispers from nowhere. They dismissed it as a childhood fantasy, and I even convinced myself they weren't real. But when Bing Wu, a fire elemental steed, first appeared to me, I knew it had been him and others like him the whole time. There are eight other spirits I can call upon, and I hear many more indistinct voices I haven't been able to fully contact yet. So I can understand the bit about sharing a spirit. Luckily, all mine have been quite benign. I can't imagine what it would be like if those whispers were evil..." She shudders visibly at the thought. "But you are a jovial fellow! This is exactly the kind of experience I was hoping to gain from the Pathfinder Society!" Upon seeing the new arrival, Sithiel looks overjoyed and eagerly takes the offered hand. "My horse is a fire elemental!" she exclaims proudly.
"Please excuse my ignorance, Enrique, but did you just refer to yourself in the first and third person at the same time? Is that a quirk of translating your native tongue to Taldane? I study languages. In Gnomish, they don't use pronouns. So that last sentence I just said would be 'In Gnomish, Gnomish speakers don't use pronouns.' Well, kind of--it wouldn't work because they don't have a word for 'pronouns.'" As she finishes, Sithiel patiently awaits the answers to the questions that she buried in her paragraph.
As Sithiel pushes her "Slip seat" into place and climbs atop it, her eyes grow wide as she notices the frog-like being already seated. She realizes she is being incredibly rude, her cheeks turn bright red, she recovers her smile, and says, "Well met! I am Sithiel Neuma. I like your armor; did you make it yourself? From what land do you call home? I'm from the free lands of Andoran!" When she turns to see who this "Krstani" is, she becomes flustered all over again. "I...aye, I'm a Pathfinder...or will be," she says sheepishly. "Please accept my apologies," she says to both the grippli and Krstani, bowing her head solemnly. "We do not have many...of either of your kind in my part of Andoran." Her smile appears again and her eyes flare to life. "And from where do you hail, Krstani?
A halfling wearing a flowing sky blue cloak with silver trim rides atop a white pony whose mane seems to be made of flame. As she brings the strange beast to halt outside the Pig's Paunch, the stable boy that comes out to receive her stops and stares in horror. She smiles disarmingly as she dismounts, a smile the stable boy cannot help but return. She turns to her pony and says, "Thank you for the ride, as always, Bing Wu. Enjoy your rest." Astonishingly, the pony replies, "This one is happy to serve. It is always fun to visit this strange place." The halfling holds the palm of her hand to a glowing rune on the pony's forehead--the same rune that glows on her own forehead--and the pony disappears in a gout of flame. The halfling looks at the stable boy and shrugs. "Sorry to not have any work for you, but here," and she flings him a copper penny. The halfling enters the Pig's Paunch, and takes a moment to look around at everyone assembled, a big smile of wonder on her face. With her left hand clutching a spear over twice as tall as she is, and the other hand a fist on her hip with her elbow sticking out, she has a commanding presence her 2 foot 8 inch stature belies. When she spies the elven man, she pulls back her hood and a mop of clean but unkempt light brown hair cascades over her shoulders. She asks a barmaid for an ale and a "Slip seat" with no discomfort at the using the self-derogatory term. |
