Practice Cake

Log Info

• Title: Practice Cake
• Emitter: Cryosanthia
• Characters: Cryosanthia, Zant, Nels, Aya, Faranmidahn
• Place: A07: Fernwood Pub
• Time: Saturday, March 14, 2020, 6:43 PM
• Summary: Cryosanthia is on shift at the Fernwood Pub, along with the half-elf. Zant arrives and immediately gets the half-syl's flirtatious attention. A discussion of her and her techniques ensues between Cryo and Zant. Nels, Aya and Faranmidahn arrive. Practice cake, the magical dead-spot beneath the artificer hall, the magic plague and demons are discussed. No resolution for any seem in sight, and everyone finishes their meals and separates. Cryo gives Faran some practice cake for next day's training.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-<* A07: Fernwood Pub *>--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

The common room of the Fernwood Pub dominates the inn, spacious and airy because of the high, vaulted ceiling. Ornately carved beams of dark, polished wood form a lattice overhead, supporting the arched roof two storeys above the floor. To the right of the double-door entry is a spiral staircase, winding upwards to a balcony that rings and overlooks the main area. Large windows at this level grant an excellent view of the river to the west and colorful market stalls to the north and east. An air of coziness is salvaged by keeping the pub dimly lit; parchment-shrouded mana lanterns hang at intervals from the base of the balcony, nestled amongst lush, magically propagated ivy and ferns that grow over this false demi-ceiling and the struts that support it.

The bar is sleek and simple, comprised of meticulously polished black lacquer. Tables are set under the darker niches formed by the balcony floor as well as on the balcony itself. A few are deliberately sized to accommodate halflings and gnomes, but the majority are meant for human-sized individuals. A large common table is on the main floor, set before a semi-circular stage situated against the western wall. Beside it, with pipes mounted upon the wall and running up past the balcony and almost to the ceiling, is a refurbished pipe organ made to look like the one lost when the Fernwood was destroyed during the Merkabah Siege.

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-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-  Appearing, in Order  =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Cryosanthia  6'7"     245 Lb     Sith-Makar        Female    A dashingly tall, lithe white lizardgirl with tattoos.
Zant         6'0"     190 Lb     Human             Male      Olive-skinned, wild-haired young man in simple clothes
Nels         3'7"     42 Lb      Goblin            Male      Tall, for a goblin, and athletic. Close-cut black hair.
Aya          4'7"     105 Lb     Shadow Elf        Female    Mul'niessa. Braided hair. Simple clothing.
Faranmidahn  3'3"     35 Lb      Halfling          Female    Albino Lucht woman in black leather armor with a BIG spider 
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=

It's afternoon and the Fernwood Pub is relatively busy, half the tables and the centre table is full. A few people are hanging out on the second floor balcony, looking down with drinks. The servers today are the half-elf and the sith-makar, and the special of the day is stuffed squash, making the room look like an off-season Spooky Time. Nearly everyone has a baked yellow gourd in front of them, filled with rice and ground meat, and topped with cheese and chopped vegetables. Sides are the ubiquitous bread and a few steamed roots.

The door to the pub opens, with a flurry of gold and white fabric signalling the arrival of one (1!) certain Truthsayer. "Hello~!" Zant's cheerful greeting comes along shortly after the door has closed up behind him, making to pad his way to a table close to the fire.

"Hello Zant!" Cryosanthia waves from across the room, holding her hand high above the heads of others, gesturing around "Take a seat wherever!"

The half-elf server appears in front of the man, bouncing on her heels. "Hi! Sit over here, it's my section! You don't want to sit by the fire, it's smokey." Bounce-Bounce.

"Oi oi, Cryo!" Zant calls back to the Sith with his own hand raised up high, even giving an eager side-to-side wave to it.

He stops short when the half-elf appears, however, blinking once at her. "Is that right...?" He murmurs, with a subtle, curious tilt of his head... that just happens to direct a quick glance towards Cryosanthia, too.

"Well, just as well!" He chimes out quickly after, and with a smooth pivot along one heel, he turns to direct himself to a table the half elf has indicated. "Business good today?"

"Oh yes, it's been super good!" The half-elf sounds cheerful, very cheerful, almost forced with a higher pitched voice than earlier visits. She seems on task, even if her uniform is a little tight, and short. She spins around with a flourish, pulling out a chair for Zant, "We have stuffed pumpy-kins and squash ale."

Cry meanwhile, smiles awkwardly and turns to get a few orders from her tables.

"I can get you a menu..." the half-elf suggests, drawing out her words.

"O-...oh, that's fine," Zant says with a little stammer in his own words. "I'll try the special! Uh, just the food, though, I'll take tea for drink. Just as is, no sugar or anything, please and thank you." He doesn't quite try to throw a look to Cryo's way now, after he's been seated, not while the half-sil's attention is so closely on him. Probably when she turns away to get the order set, though.

"Okaaay." She leans in close, very close beside Zant, and her vanilla scented perfume wafts his way. It's in her hair, and on her neck. She takes out a crayon from her apron, and draws a little heart shaped symbol. A broken heart, two lobes with a jagged line down the middle. "That's my sign, if you want to call me. I'll get your food right now."

The half-elf departs and her scent follows soon after. She moves almost as much sideways as she does forward as she heads into the kitchen. Exactly how her symbol is meant to call her wasn't clear, perhaps she watches for coins stacking up on it. Then, she's out of sight.

Cryosanthia meanwhile, is edging between tables with trays of drinks, dropping them off here and there.

There's the hint of a blush forming up on Zant's face, but with his darker skin, it might not be immediately noticable, thankfully. It disappears again when the half-elf has leaned away and turning to move away... only for him to stare down at the sign drawn up on teh surface of the table.

"...What am I supposed to do with this exactly...?" He mumbles to himself, hand drawn over to give a curious tap of a finger against the broken-heart sign. As if though it might be some kind of magic sigil. "...Yeah, as if..."

"Yes? Did you wish something?" The half-elf appears, almost instantly, legs locked and leaning so her torso is almost horiztonal, her eyes at eye level. It's imperative to look up, especially with the way she has her hands clasped. It wasn't magic, but she is fast.

"D'AH!" Zant yelps out in surprise, first, instinctively scooting backwards on his chair with a hard scraping sound of the wooden legs along wooden floor. Eyes wide as saucers by the time they've reached up to the half-elf's face, and his body pressed back into the backrest of the chair for a few seconds before his brain body catches up with what is going on. "O-oh, no, everything's fine... You're quick, though, I didn't even see you!"

"I can be slower... if you like." The half-elf raises an eyebrow and quirks a small smile, drawing her finger slowly along the table, from a point near Zant to herself, then just as slowly stands. Her uniform is quite tight, lots of creases, her apron struggles. She taps a her mark again, "If everything is all right then, well, I'll leave you. But you can call me, if you want me."

Then she slips away. Presumably, to get some squash.

"E-eh, what? No, you just surprised me, s'all..." Zant insists, only to end up flicking his eyes to follow the traverse along the table. Oh look, there's that blush again. "...Sure. Thank you for your time."

Once she leaves, he lets out a heavy breath he didn't even realize he was holding back, and rubs one hand over his face. He knows he told Cryo he'd try subtly talking to the other waitress, but maybe this isn't what he was expecting!

Speaking of, he does sweep his gaze through the pub then, to try and spot if the Sith happens to be spying him making a fool of himself.

The sith-makar is keeping an eye on things, though whether she say the exactly exchange is uncertain. Perhaps she doesn't have to see much, if she's generally aware of what is going on. With Zant free for the moment, Cryosanthia swings by, moving like a shark around the tables. She nods, leaning on her tail leaning against the wall, "Peace on your Nest, Zant. You're an interesting colour."

"May the Sun shine warmly on you," Zant offers to Cryo in return with a raised hand... only to slap that same hand lightly a few times over his own cheeks upon her observation. "E-eh? Uh, well, you know..." He mumbles in... really, no explanation at all. He can't lie, afterall, but he can try to avoid things at least! "Your co-worker is... a bit more intense than I remember."

The white-scale sith turns her head, looking in the direction of the kitchen. Her long snout in profile, her eyes large, her crest tall and leading into a smoothly bent neck. "Well... she's trying some new things, and she does enjoy jiggling her jiggly bits, quite... a... lot. Does that work, when she does that, between half-elf and human? I suppose it must, otherwise there wouldn't be half-elves."

She returns her full gaze to Zant, both eyes now, unblinking. Watching. Tracking the colours in his face. "I don't like her new voice. With the old one she never said anything nice but at least you knew she wasn't lying. How goes the Truth-saying?"

Zant puffs out his now-less-reddened cheeks briefly. He's just about to say something in the middle of the Sith's words (probably something about not calling the 'jiggly bits', well, jiggly bits), but when she presents that question, he's promptly silenced, and his olive-toned skin suddenly flares He often seems to subtly glow and radiate warmth to begin with, so that effect of flushing color is only all the more intense with him -- unfortunately for him. Good thing he's not allowed to lie in the first place, because that would most certainly make it phenomenally difficult. "W-well, you know, they're... same kind of features humans have and... *you know*.... Is it warmer than usual in here?" This asked while his cloth-wrapped hands tug at the two brilliantly-colored scarves draped over his neck and shoulders, and a thumb brushes some of that wildly-flowing hair of his back on one side.

A breath taken in, and then exhaled with a measure of focus, as if in some effort to regain his own composure. "...Well. Did you have some kind of talk with her after the last time I saw you here? If this is a new thing, it seems like she's trying to improve on her tips." A single finger scratches at one cheek. "Truth-saying, huh... Just some service and advisory done at the temple, lately. No one's wanted an arbitrator latey either, so I've been filling time at one of the hospitals."

Cryo watches Zant, showing no expression, immobile. She continues to stare, patient, immobile, like a crocodile lying in wait as his skin shifts through various shades. She doesn't blink. Until she can contain it no longer and she bursts out laughing, hugging herself around the middle. "You all turn the best colours! I shall have to line you up, you, Elly, Seldan and see which glows the most."

Snickering, she rocks back against the wall, exhaling and sighing. "We talked a little. I asked her to take my difficult customers, the dark elves mostly, said I'd give her all my tips if she did. Maybe something someone else said sunk in, I'm not sure. Helping out with the plague victims at the Hospital? Or, more normal ailments?"

Nels walks in to this conversation, not really catching any of it as she yawns and calls for ale, looking around for where to sit. It's been a long and complicated day. Aren't they all, though?

"...Eh?" Zant's initial reaction to Cryo's sudden laughter is to blink his eyes rapidly at her, staring with blank confusion. And then she says all that, and... "You're doing it on purpose?!"

With a little huff and a pouting of his lips, he leans back on his chair and folds up his thickly-muscled arms up together over his chest. "So mean!" It probably doesn't help things that he's still so very bright red.

At least he doesn't seem too upset. Not upset enough to not continue the conversation otherwise. "...She is much more chipper and energetic. Though the cheer seems a bit forced... But I guess she is trying to play more to, uh..." Beat. "...Her strengths. I would imagine a lot of men like being served by her. But, no, just one of the smaller clinics. I took up studying non-magical medicine a while ago. Just so I can help with that if the need rises, you know? It's just people with common sicknesses and small wounds, though, I can't do anything more than that as is."

"Here you go." The bartender places an ale in front of an empty seat at the bar and waves at Nels. He jerks his thumb over his shoulder at the kitchen window, "Want anything to eat? I'll put an order in."

Cryo smiles enigmatically, raising her eye ridges at Zant's red glow. She wobbles her head, "Maybe. Sometimes we get up to games. And there are favourites. Non-magical options seem like a good option, there aren't always priests or blessed fighters about. I hope everyone you minister to is appreciative."

Nels sits down at the bar, sips the ale, and hrms about food. But tired always makes her hungry, and she says, "Yeah, let me get a goblin chili." That's the one with the gunpowder flavor. Not too many humans go for that, but she only -looks- human. She looks over to Cryo and Zant curiously, but doesn't interrupt the conversation.

"Favorites?" Zant's own brows lift up at that, peering at the Sith questioningly while he loosens his arms up again, rather than keeping them crossed up. "Well... I am still a beginner at that thing, you know? I wouldn't exactly rely on me or anything... Better to find someone more experienced if it comes down to that."

"One Goblin Chili, coming up." The bartender puts the order through to the kitchen.

"Hey Nels, Peace on your Nest." Cryosanthia raises her hand in a wave, calling across at her, "Anything New? Braelnoir got her hands back. And her scythe. It fell out of her... well it fell out of her."

"Regular Alexandrians, people who come here for lunch, that work in the warehouse district, sometimes from the docks or theater. Non adventurer types. That don't tip well because they aren't full of monster gold."

She takes a moment to glance around the room, "Well don't sell yourself short, you have to start somewhere."

Nels smiles to Cryo and ooohs at Braelnoir getting partly cured. "That's good news," she says. "I found out there's a no magic zone under the academy place, so I'm gonna try going there and see if the curse breaks."

"Monster gold... That's what we're calling it now...?" Zant blinks his eyes slowly. "And nah, that's the thing, right? I have to recogniez my training is still incomplete, and while I'm striving to be better, I should still defer to someone else if it comes to a matter of life and death."

At the mention of Brae he perks up a bit. "Oh! I talked to her here a while ago. I don't think I had seen her at all while she was... fully transformed. But she did tell me about that story."

"Oh, that sounds like a great idea!" Cryo stands taller, eager and energetic, intent on Nels, "Do you need a spotter in case something goes wrong and you turn into a giant or a blob? I can bring a rope, a hook, to pull you out. This one is very curious to watch, I can let Braelnoir know how it goes."

She turns to Zant, "Well we're all incredibly, filthy rich, right? At least that's the story. Yes, she had it rough for a while, lion paws and all her stuff vanished to wherever stuff goes when people change."

Nels nods to Cryosanthia, and says, "Actually, yeah, I would like some backup to go there. I know nothing about what'll be there, so I'm a bit nervous. But anything to cure this awful curse. Between this horrible body and the fatigue," she yawns, "which sucks rocks, I'm ready to try anything to be done with it."

Aya enters the main room from the chill outdoors, a brief snippet of the wind sneaking in along with her to rustle items and individuals in the vicinity.

"Because of... adventuring..." Zant rubs his hand along the back of his neck, with his fingers briefly brushing through the voluminous hair gathered there. "Well... I guess that Guild does happen have the whole policy of letting people going on work bring along what they find for themselves, so it would make sense. It's not like I haven't seen some of the people from there decked out in incredibly pimped-out armor and pay for food with gold coins, you know?"

The outside world also lets in another figure. A comparatively tall Lucht woman in black enters behind the Mul'iessa and pushes the door closed before she turns to look the place over from within the horizontal slats of her helm. Hrm, Faran reaches up to remove her helm as her little feet make muffled slap-slaps within the shaggy fluff shrouding them and she shakes her head to alleviate it's effect on her hair, "Hello!"

"Okay, let me know when you're ready Nels and I'll get my rapier and a rope. And a soap on a hope. Hmm... hope on a soap? Dope on a Nope? Taup on a lope? Ah, I'll figure some rhyme out." Cryosanthia smiles at Nels, wobbling her head. "Is this no-magic zone down a flight of stairs, or is it an expedition thing I'll have to schedule a day for?"

The white-scaled sith nods to Zant, "That's the perception. I've rarely brought back more than a bad attitude. I got paid a few times, at least."

Cryo looks over as the door opens, and raises a hand to Aya, "Oh, hey..."

Suddenly the Fernwood's half-elf server is between her and the mul'neissa. She sprung out of nowhere, or a convenient lurking place beside the bar. She bounces in her too-tight uniform and tighter apron, her voice high-pitched and disingenuously friendly, her smile brittle and bright, "Hello, Welcome to the Fernwood. I would love to be your server tonight. Please be seated anywhere you like over there."

She waves at several open spots at the bars, booths and tables. When the door bangs a second time her script goes off again. There is a momentary pause as she blinks, resets, and greets the lucht, "Hello, Welcome to the Fernwood. I would love to be your server tonight. Please be seated anywhere you like over there."

Distantly, Cryo leans around the eager half-elf and gives a wave to Faranmidahn as well.

Nels can only shrug to Cryosanthia, and she complains, "I never got the chance to ask. I had a lot of questions, too. I don't have any soap on a rope, though." She sips her ale and eats some chili as she says, "I'll let you know when I'm ready to go, but soon, cause this curse is really driving my nuts."

Aya arches a brow at the sudden arrival and zeal of the half-syl server. She offers half a smile in return. "Thank you." She then bypasses the server, presumably to locate a seat wherever she likes, avoiding the intervening space to reappear in Cryosanthia's vicinity. Aya is only doing as bid.

Before she can inquire of possible enchantments upon the Sith's peers, Nels' comment gains her attention. "Curse? Would this be in regards to the plague, the fiends, or a new curse upon the city?"

Faranmidahn makes big blinky eyes as the half-elf suddenly has a loop in her 'It's a Small World After All' routine, a brow arching with the exhuberance of the greeting and the fact that, "Your outfit is very tight." Cryo's wave is returned with a smile before leans to either side examining the woman's midriff and, "Can you breathe alright...?" she asks in a whisper with some open concern on her face. She doesn't catch the Mul'iessa's shadow-fold, though the talk of a 'curse' tears her attention over yonder, "Another one?"

"Well, suppose there's..." Zant starts to murmur... but his words wander off while he completely stills in his place. And just like that, his eyes widen up. "AH! I FORGOT!!!"

In an instant, he's bounced up onto his feet from his chair, and his hand gives a quick tap to the sign drawn onto the table in front of him. "Excuse me! Can I get that food to go? I'm sorry! I'll pay extra! AAAH I AM SO LATE!"

"If you're having trouble getting answers Nels, bring me along next time. I can sometimes dig them out." Cryo offers, canting her head so she can see the cursed human, smiling with a small shrug.

Her reaction when Aya relocates is a little different. A quiet, "maaaaaaaaaah......" noise, the sort a cat makes unexpectedly falling off a bed. She sinks down in a crouch and slides like a contortionist under Zant's table and wriggles out the other side to stand with it between her and Aya. "There's a seat!" Cryo offers, pointing at the spot she's vacated, which is nicely close to where Zant was sitting. His seat is also recently vacated and still warm.

Meanwhile, the half-elf server gasps quietly to Faranmidahn, "Enough. Would you like a sea... eat?" Leaning that much was a bad idea apparently. Except, she leaves suddenly too, "Innaminna."

Her sign was tapped and the half-elf arrives beside Zant with a box and an eager grin. "Yes Extra, here's box! Thank you for coming." It's magical how fast she has the meal ready to go with her hand out, just like that too.

Nels huhs to Aya, and says, "I'm talking about the curse on me, actually." She sighs. "Some artificer business I got caught in collaterally. I mean, I lived upstairs from an artificer, but that's not a crime, is it? Anyhow, I know about the plague, but not about any fiends. What are those?" She blinks as Zant bounces and zooms out, but can only shrug. To Cryo, she said, "It wasn't exactly trouble getting answers, but I wasn't going to interrogate the artificer who was mostly helping me. He was mostly pretty cool, for an artificer. But then stuff came up, and he couldn't finish explaining."

"THankyousorryI'llcomebacklater!" Zant rambles out at lightning speed to the half-elf server, first, one hand taking the box of prepared food and the other slapping a collection of silver coins onto the sil's outstretched hand. His neck cranes to tilt his head faaaar back so that he can peer, upside-down, to Cryo and call to her "I'llseeyoulatergottagobaaaaaaaaaai!" And with that, he's practically a blur on his way to the door and through it, the brilliant scarves trailing behind him like a flutter of colored wind.

Faranmidahn cants her head and shrugs as the half-elf is suddenly turned elsewhere. She sidles to the side and pads over toward the Sith and her friends, tucking her helmet under her arm, "Hello, Miss ryosanthia! How are you? Have you seen Miss Kaelyn lately?" Zant's haste warrants a quick wave and a, "Good night!"

Aya ahs to Nels. "Fiends. Demons. Crawling about the city the last I heard. That they seem to be more quiet lately isn't entirely reassuring. Might I ask what curse that is?" She looks back to Crysosanthia, only to find her relocated. She could comment, but decides to simply thank her and take the offered seat.

Cryosanthia manages a quick wave as Zant vanishes, and follows it up by looking towards Nels, "Very well, This one is available when you need her."

She turns attention to Faranmidahn, "With Kaelyn, I haven't. Last I heard she's been staying in her room. I've knocked but she didn't open. Once she said 'Working!'. Food is left, and it goes overnight. It's kind of a mystery. The staff is kind of waiting for her to come out, or an explosion... or a smell..."

"There was an artifice artifact that one of our friends was looking into, it transformed people into things, like a polymorph spell I suppose. It was stolen and the one who took it used it randomly on people, who would suddenly change hours later. Nels, may or may not have been struck by this device, perhaps a similar one. No one has appeared complaining of an involuntary transformation in a while, so we think the culprit may have crippled themselves or something with it. Kaelyn was working to track and counter the device, but was turned into a large, feral feathery thing, and this made it hard for her to work delicately. As Faranmidahn noted, we haven't seen her in person in a while."

Nels wrinkles her nose at the thought of demons crawling around the city. "I dunno, I think quiet demons are better than demons killing everyone. But the curse is this," she says, and points to her face. "It's the shame of the goblin community. I can't even show my face at Ma Rosie's." She hangs her head. Though she nods as Cryo explains what seems to have happened. "But I just today learned about a no magic area under the Academy, and I'm going to see if going there breaks the curse."

"Kaelyn told me about that, actually, miss." Faran interjects to Nels' question. She steps closer, setting her weight to the hip under her helmet to help hold onto it longer, "She said the foci go dormant as long as you're in the field, then reactivate once you leave, but it won't result in a new form."

"Demons can read minds you know." Cryo holds up a hand, showing off her white glove and a gold ring on her third finger. "I think that's the worst part. They aren't here on vacation, if they aren't killing people they're up to something worse. I have a hard time imagining worse, but that's the explanation I was given."

The white-sith exhales hard, looking at Faranmidahn, "Of course, it couldn't be that easy."

Cryo looks over at Aya, "I'm sorry, this one forgot to ask for your order. We have stuffed squash, steamed roots, practice cake and the usual at the bar, should any of that interest you." Her tail swishes slowly behind her.

Nels grumbles at Faran's revelation, and says, "Well, we were gonna do something, and she was a no-show, so I'm not sure exactly how much faith I have in her. She's an artificer, too. I figure if I camp out there for a bit, maybe all the curse will drain off." It's a plan, anyhow. Shr cringes at what's worse than demons killing everywhere. I wonder if I can get somonslaying magic put on the thunderbelcher."

Faranmidahn blinks with big pink eyes up to the Sith, "Oooh! What's a practice cake? Is it like the first attempt or maybe the third?" It's hard to tell from her leg shag, but she did suddenly get a few inches taller. Her curiosity pales as the other lady relates her problems with curatives. She drops to her flats and pads over to the human, reaching up to lightly touch her arm, her expression sympathetic, "Nothing is hopeless, miss. I'm sure a cure will be found, soon. But... I can understand your frustration." Shes a little confused by the lady's consternation, and she hasn't noticed any amalgamated bits, or random disfigurements. By all accounts, as she understands such things, the nice lady is quite beautiful for one of her unreasonable size.

When no one is observing her, the mul'neissa vanishes.

Cryosanthia moves over to the bar, and leans against that. It's her turn to hold it up and watch the half-elf server bound around the room taking care of the tables. "I think you know Ezil and Merek, Nels. They are looking to join the Iron Book, and might be able to help you out with that. I have been wondering, can the thunderbelchers and dragonspitters shoot magic balls, spells that do things when they hit?"

"Yes! Practice cake is exactly that. Chef says it's the cake you make when you're attempting a new recipe. So, I guess it could be any number of attempts if it isn't turning out right. He was working on a Red Velvet Cake, but making it like a Black Forest Cake, so it's a Red Forest Cake? Red Volcano Cake, not sure, but if you want something cake-like that might be good or might not, ask for it for sure." The palescale sith explains.

Nels might be decent enough for a huma, but for a goblin, she's pretty horrible, and that's the problem - she started out as a goblin. "Thanks for the support. I'd totally swap you if that were an option. At least you have some cool parts, I'm just this blah..." She shrugs. She nods about a cure soon, and says, "Maybe I'll just bring a lot of food and camp out in the no-magic place...."

Faranmidahn seems really torn on that, but, "I'm afraid I'll have to pass, Cryo, I will have to get back to the chapterhouse soon, training begins early, and Torrent has new barding to break in." The comment from the human makes her blush a bit and smile up at her, "Thank you..." she thinks, "This is how I've always looked, well, since I grew up, anyway."

"Let me at least get you a slice to go." Cryo offers, heading for the kitchen, "you can have it tomorrow, after the training. Good luck breaking in the barding."

"If you decide to do that Nels, I can bring you food every couple days, maybe some books, so you have something to pass the time with."

The sith slips into the back, coming out with a box, and she slides it towards Faranmidahn.

Nels oohs as this plan seems to be coming together. "I'll take you up on that," she says. "I can come back in one day, and if I'm still cursed, I'll stay in for two days, and so on."

Cryo headbobs, "It can't hurt to try."

The white-scale sith gets a glass of water and takes a sip from it. She gazes out at the pub, watching the half-elf bounce around and generally work for tips. "I think she's got it covered, I might go in the back for a nap.

Faranmidahn smiles and nods and lightly pats the human's arm again, "I wish you well, miss." before turning toward Cryo as she presents her to-go box. She briefly sets it on the table to don her helm, visor up, noce more, then smiles up the sIth, and offers her some coin, "Thank you, Cryo, you're very nice!" She glances toward the half-elf, then whispers to Cryosanthia, "Your friend may want to talk to a tailor to get the effect I believe she's seeking and still be able to breathe well enough to keep up with the busy times."

"I'll... pass that along." The sith looks over at the half-elf, making a mental note of what 'too tight' is for softskins. "Peace on your Nest, Faranmidahn, train well."

Nels smiles to Faranmidahn, "Thanks." She finishes her chili and ale, and will head upstairs, herself.

Cryosanthia waves as the other two head off. She makes a small effort clearing a few tables, and talking with the Chef in the back. Then the call of the comfy bed becomes too much, and she finds it, and flops out hard.

Dramatis Personae

Faranmidahn
A tallish Lucht with a wide, heart shaped face of moon-eyed countenance, she bears the marks of an albino, with skin a pinkish cream, and pate of full, knee length hair of ivory and bone. Her eyes are a peculiar shade of rose beneath somewhat thick ivory brows, with long silvery lashes, to which she's added two matching rows of round tourmaline settings starting at her brow and tapering down her cheeks to her jawline. Like her people, she prefers to feel the ground beneath her bare feet, though she's manifested the Clydesdale like shag of ivory more uncommon than unheard of among her people. Her voice is high and light enough to be almost troublingly cute when she intends to be anything but, though her posture is straight and proud.
She's taken her spider affectation to a functional extreme, probably more due to a certain amount of reality checks than a true forbearance of eccentricity. Black spiderweb lace sheaths her limbs, emerging from kilted leather armor; over her heart, an embossed sigil of violet, lavender and green proclaims her to be of the Order of the Purple Rose, in those circumstances where the matching broach pinning a black web-embroidered cloak to her shoulders is absent. A matching helm with a visor of black strips, when it is worn, adds shadow enough to aid the suggestion of spiders' eyes her jewerly is meant to project. At the right side of her waist, a comparitively long sword for her stature, blackened steel with a red hourglass on the pear-shaped pommel, rests in a lacquered sheath opposite an array of pouches that no doubt contain an array of adventurer's tools, while a matching Lucht Traveler's blade is strapped to her left thigh.

Nels
This person definitely does not look like a male goblin, aged 20. In fact /she/ looks like a young human woman, aged 20, with long black hair gathered into twintails past her waist. The twintails are tied with red ribbons, and she has a fancy cloth headdress, black with orange frills and lacing, atop her head. It doesn't really keep her hair out of her face, it's just there. Her figure is wiry, agile and quick, generally with sleek movements, which turn awkward occasionally. Her most notable feature, though, are her eyes. Heterochromatic, one is orange-red, like fire, and the other is burnished gold.
She is currently wearing a floor-length dress, styled like a ball gown, of orange satin that matches her eye, trimmed with black stripes around the skirts and up the bodice, and black lace everywhere. An orange satin sash around her waist has more black frills edging it, and is tied in a bow. Her upper arms are bare, but her forearms are adorned with faux-sleeves with red-orange trim, and laces, tied in bows at her elbows. Her feet, when they can be seen under her skirts, are in dark leather platform boots.