Storm's Edge

Log Info

• Title: Storm's Edge
• Emitter: Faranmidahn
• Characters: Faranmidahn, Auranar, Cryosanthia, Sabina
• Place: A17: Airstation Alexandria
• Time: Saturday, April 18, 2020, 11:08 PM
• Summary: Faranmidahn, Cryosanthia, Auranar and Sabina take an airship to the Desolation to visit the Everstorm Research Camp. On the flight there they discuss their families. Almost all have had tragedies, Auranar's were killed by a demon when she was a baby, Sabina's were killed in front of her eyes by an angry mob. Faran's live, or hopefully live, but were distant and she worries that Salina may have taken revenge. Cryosanthia doesn't share anything about hers. After landing and travelling, the worst is revealed. The camp is completely frozen, a perfect Winter Wonderland, with the residents caught in mid activity. Ice and snow blanket the entire area. Even her beloved pet pony is dead. Faran is heartbroken and devastaged, and the others are shocked to their limits. Somehow, they struggle through making arrangements for the dead and preserving the research and valuables to be returned. After, they sit and drink to raise their spirits, listening to an odd story about a spider narrated by Cryo. It's uplifting but they have a deep well of darkness to come out of, and they finally sleep on a wish for the death of winter.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=<* A17: Airstation Alexandria *>=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

The vast Airstation of Alexandria occupies a large portion of the upper, northeast city. The main hub of the Airstation consists of a gigantic domed and arched chamber of predominantly brownstone and red cipher colors. Tremendous pillars stretch up from the ground towards the domed roof. Their airy architecture gives a view of the docking towers and the numerous ships that come and go therein. Desks line the airstation's walls, maintained by the Guild of the Skies and the embassies of respective nations wherein charters can be made for passages between most of the civilized lands.

To say that this place is abuzz with activity would be a mammoth understatement as it practically swirls with with life, colors, races and cultures of all sorts of variety and magnitude. Beyond it all are the majestic Redridge Mountains, while the great expanse of Alexandria may be seen below, and beyond that, the rolling hills and farmlands of greater Alexandros

Towards the southeast, a long trail winds downwards for about a mile. Travelers who take it will find themselves in the midst of the small, but well-known Deluge Mines, and outside of Alexandria.

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-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  Appearing, in Order  =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Faranmidahn  3'3"     35 Lb      Halfling          Female    Albino Lucht woman in black leather armor with a BIG spider
Auranar      4'8"     123 Lb     Wild Elf          Female    A wild elf with dark skin and a red dress
Cryosanthia  6'9"     267 Lb     Sith-Makar        Female    A dashingly tall, elegant white-scaled lizard woman.
Sabina       5'4"     130 Lb     Human             Female    Tsuran woman of dark hair and green eyes
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The Lucht sorceress was in a peculiar state as she gathered some of her friends, both recent and dear, a fine veneer of constrained rage soon giviing glimpses of something deeper, no more or less true; fear. She'd made the arrangements and the group were in the air before she finally intoned a dreadful sentence in light of recent occurances:

"My fa-!" she starts, her voice cracking at first, then sswitching to trade, 'My... my father isn't answering message spells.' A swallow, then, 'Mother could just be engrossed, but Father...' Her knuckles whiten again in turn as the closings of a fist ripples along her hand, 'I... the Everstorm could be the problem.... it... it could be, but...' <halfling>

Auranar sits, trying not to watch the world go by distractedly. Faran's words make it easier to ignore though. She turns her dark eyes on the lucht and weighs her carefully before speaking. "So... If I understand correctly... This fae woman that started the plague kidnapped Seldan's mother from the Soldier's Defense... and you think she went all the way to the Desolation to do the same to yours?" It's not said as gently as she intends, but she /tries/.

Cryosanthia is along. If one were to imagine a small white dragon, on guard against a seething, broiling mess, that would be close to her inner state. She has a lot of feelings, all rather too large, that her self discipline is watched. Trying to keep, there, where they will not get in the way or overwhelm her. This leaves the white-scale sith seemingly distant, reserved and formal. A look not helped by her beautiful wizard robes, which are back and indicative that she's got all her things again.

The passing landscape is a distraction that draws her as well, but she has settled onto a seat and keeps her focus on Faran. "It is possible She has. The Tower could go anywhere, and it seems she was watching... us, and picked out at least one for personal revenge."

Bina adjusts her pack and .. her peacock on her shoulder. "Are you sure the messages are getting through?" She asks. "I do not mean to question. I know now how horrible this fae woman is but the distance, like your friend has said." She trails off as Cryo corrects her lack of knowledge and she sighs. "Such power.."

Faranmidahn barks a short, mirthless laugh spiked with desperation that sounds a lot like one Cryo's only heard once after their first experiment, "It.... -could- be the storm. It could " I need it to be, "Many things, but...I need to know."

The airship cuts through the sky at it's pace, the land beneath transitioning slowly to different carpents of flora, different hues of grass and soil alike, "If I'm wrong we wasted a trip," She brings a hand to her face and shakes her head, "The things that impede us don't touch her."

Auranar gives Faran a comforting look, even leans over and touches the lucht on the shoulder. She offers her presence as best she can, but she's worried that it's not enough. "We're here with you Faran." She shuts her mouth before she can say everything will be alright... just in case it's a lie. "We're almost there."

Cryosanthia looks over at Auranar, then back to Faran. She moves and sits close to the lucht, on the opposite side. "We are travelling as fasst as we can. The waiting will not be long. We will do what we can."

She hesitates, then asks, "Tell us... about your family?"

Sabina nods slowly at this voiced question. Her times spent both gazing down at the lands they pass over and watching the Lucht and her reactions. "Yes please do? It may help us later on. Who knows." And a good distraction for now she hopes.

Faranmidahn swallows again and looks out the window for a moment, "My father, Korsandir..." she smiles sadly, "He's an errant Purple Rose of some seniority... but he is as much Ranger as Cavalier. He's very very brave, and very kind. He... he's easily the one the most to thank for how I am. Serrendine, my mother... she's an academic, she's.... distant with me, but while she's warmer to my father, her truest love would... probably be her research. She's been studying the Everstorm, and, to a lesser extent, the phenomena of the Vast for longer than I've been alive."

Auranar lets her hand slide away as Faran talks about her parents, her eyes wandering over the sky and land but still listening. It might not /look/ that way, but her attention never leaves Faran for a second. "They sound nice." Her black eyes land on Faran and they're slightly darker than they usually are, her face gone still with some old wound. "Busy, but nice."

Cryosanthia nods, "I've heard some of the Vast from Ezil, but am unfamiliar. I hope she will have good stories, and it will be nice to meet your father as well. Is his choice mount a spider also?"

The white-scale looks briefly at Auranar, expressionless. She's noticed a few signs of pain, but hasn't been comfortable exploring them. She holds off again. Her attention on Faran once more she suggests, "Well, perhaps you can tell her you've done some research as well, she might be interested to hear."

Bina listens and then nods with a smile. "You are blessed to have parents that allow you to be who and what you wish to be. A parent to look up to and emulate. And you care greatly for them and thus our trip. I believe they are equally fortunate to have you as a daughter, Faranmidahn."

Faranmidahn looks up to Auranar as she feels the hand slide from her shoulder, catching her eyes and listing her head just a bit and reaching out to her, now. Cryo's words break her focus and she looks down a bit, "She... might? She'd love you, all, probably. You're all more learned than I am. Enkesys, though?" she smiles a little wistfully, "He's a pony, but he's fearless with Dad-" ahem, "With Father in the saddle, but he was always gentle with me. Father... I think he wanted me to ride a pony too, but... spiders... and once we found Torrent... He probably thought I was too much like Mother to talk me out of it." Sabina's remark, though, almost takes her feet out from under her, and there's a flicker across her expression but she hastily turns to regard the window once more. A beat, "The storm is coming into view..."

The pink and black haired elf is not unaware that her facial expression has given her away and she quickly schools it back into something smoother, eyes darting away to hide and she's smiling softly to hide the rest. It's good that Faran's words are worth the smile. Auranar's watching the storm come where she can see it. It too is worth the attention. So she lets a soft exhalation leave her lips and goes to the edge of the ship for a better view of it. "Oh wow! That's amazing! Look how beautiful it is! I didn't think that a storm would be so /pretty/." Awe touches her voice.

"A storm? We should put loose items, close the window shutters and check the cabinet latches." Cryo says, rising automatically to start doing so, halting for a second, then continuing. A quick check around the room and then she is leaning to look out the window as well, her tail swaying behind her. "Those are some prett colours. It looks large."

Her hand works through a gesture and a flicker of light cascades along her arm, then the scales around her eyes start glowing, "Looks a normal storm."

The Tsurian turns her full attention to the storm outside the windows. Her expression is rapt, a child seeing a wonder for the first time. "I've seen it from a distance a time or two but my parents always tried to stay clear of it in their wanderings. To see it from above the land.." She trails off and grins.

Faranmidahn almost dragged out of her funk by nostalgia as she looks out at the storm, "It's beautiful, looking at it up close sometimes does strange things to people, though. They don't change, per se, but some people just get lost in the sight." The Lucht gives a shrug and looks to Cryo as she casts, having pretty good idea what she's doing. There is, nonetheless a light touch to Auranar's arm, lasting only till the first flinch, but it's there. Maybe she saw something, something she could see, though, "I was too far away by the time I learned my detection spell... I've never looked at it that way, before."

Auranar looks backwards at the touch of on her arm, not flinching away but, she's surprised and perhaps embarassed. It shows on her expression. Her black eyes look downwards briefly and when she looks up it's pure apology in her eyes. "Sorry. It's just... you're so close to your parents. I really hope they're okay." The words steal the apology away until there's just that old pain again. A lingering reflection of something that happened a long time ago.

Cryosanthia keeps watching. She blinks, here's a slight sheen to her eyes now, and the coloured parts of them seem to be falling in to her pupils, a slow cascade of their sapphire colour. "Oh it's kicked in now. I see all the magics"

"Oh wow..." Her words trail off and the sith-makar is fascinated. Apparently one of those easily drawn in, who will stare endlessly at the rolling turbulence. She sighs, sounding wistful. Completely missing everything exchanged in glances between Faran and Auranar. So it's unexpected when she asks, "Were you close to your parents Auranar?"

Bina winces at Cryo's question, keeping her eyes on the storm without looking at it though magical eyes. The storm seems to bring the Tsurian a form of contemplation or rembemberance. She breaks out of this soon enough and turns to reguard Auranar in earnest.

Faranmidahn returns her hand to her own space, then and smiles contritely, "Forgive me, Auranar.. I..." she pauses and just sort of nods it off. Her eyes glimmer in 'we should talk later', but she won't make more issue of it, here. Not now. She takes a deep breath and begins her own incantation to take a refined look at the Storm that so enthralled- ENTHRALLS, enthralls- her mother. What seems to be grabbing- her inner lute breaks a string midtune as the entrapt Cryosanthia's question pops up out of nowhere.

Auranar starts to smile, forgiving Faran is on the tip of her tongue when Cryosanthia's question hits her with all the subtly of a whip. She flinches at the question and she blinks quickly to keep the obvious hurt in her eyes from spilling over onto the rest of her face. She looks down, she looks away, anywhere but at a person. She's not young but some pains don't go away with time. "Ah..." Her voice is oddly hoarse. So she swallows. "They died when I was a baby. I don't even have memories of them." She smiles, brief and more pain than anything else and quickly takes a breath. She smooths her skirts down and finally looks up, her face under control, but not her dark eyes. "They were killed by a demon."

The pain may be tucked away but Bina can sense it's there. She chips in her words in a nuetral and friendly voice. "Mine were killed by people in masks. I remember it all too well, I'm afraid. I got to watch it from my hiding spot under the family wagon." A bit of shocking information to take the sting from the situation? She can but hope.

"Oh, a demon, that sounds horrible." Cryo's reply is distant and distracted, as if she wasn't paying attention but clearly was paying enough to answer. She is enraptured by the tumultuous mass coiling around, the endless storm. Her inner dragon, likewise, has completely abandonned the iceberg watch to stare out the window. It's left to her other headspace functions to tap-tap and get her conscious attention to return to the room. Which, it does.

Cryosanthia pulls herself away from the window. Turning around, her eyes are still momentarily doing a strange swirl, but it passes. "Auranar! I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking. Everyone kept telling me sith aren't as close to their parents as softskins, it seemed a natural thing to ask about since I didn't know what they were on about. I was not aware, please."

Faranmidahn's gaze turns toward Auranar, her eyes sympathetic and she moves closer to try and hug her high about the waist. Looking back to Sabina, astounded by her own troubles, she realizes that she was, comparitively blessed, even spoiled, despite her maternal issues. A sort of subtle shame touches her eyes for a moment, then, "I'm.... I'm so sorry!" She doesn't have an answer for Cryo's musings, but focus on Aura.

At first Auranar is utterly surprised by Faran's hug, but after a moment she returns it gently; curling around the lucht. "It's okay. Really I never knew them." She looks at Sabina and blinks her black eyes in surprise. "Oh my gods. That's... I can't /imagine/. It's hard enough to know I'll never meet my parents but to know them and then watch them die?" She holds her hand out toward the other woman.

Bina smiles warmly and waves a hand as if to shoo the concern away. She does take the offered hand though and grips it greatfully. "I'm Sabina. I'm glad to meet you Auranar. My parents loved me and tried to do well by me as they raised me. But their ways were.." She hesitates and then shakes her head still smiling. "They were wrong. Stealing money with lies and trickery. And while I grew to love the challange of the grift I never liked the outcome. They were wrong and in the end they were punished. But their punishement was not fitting of their crimes. If that makes sense? I have come to make peace with it."

Cryosanthia recognizes she missed something, and reviews what she remembers hearing in the last few minutes. She straightens with a shocked expression, and then she's holding her tailtip in both hands. She sinks down to sit at the far end of the bench. She listens, squeezes her tail in her hands, breathes carefully.

Faranmidahn frowns a little and shakes her head, giving the taller woman a last, lingering squeeze before slowly releasing her, "Still... you've grown to be a kind, generous woman, Auranar.... I wish... I wish you'd had more..." Swallow, "More time." Sabina then has a hand set to her arm, the lucht's expression grave, and more, but she's trying to keep it on her friends... her friends who've just exposed a wound they share. There's a glance to Cryo, something there, but she's still trying to steer it away... away from her nagging dread.

Auranar has the grace to look embarassed. "Now what's a girl to say to all that flattery?" She chuckles away the pain in her eyes and in her voice, squeezing Sabina's hand briefly. "It's okay Cryosanthia, you didn't know. We all have our little pains to hide. Mmmm I think that the ship is landing." There's a little bump and jerk that suggests that she's correct. She tightens her hold on Faran briefly, a quick squeeze to let the lucht know everything is going to be okay even though she has no idea how true that is, and then she puts her brave face on. "Come on, lets go meet your folks."

Bina turns to Faran briefly and winks and then to Cryo and holds out her hand to the woman of white. "And you, my dear Cryosanthia, should not feel bad either just as Auranar has said. You are of your people and that is not a bad thing. Just different. And all good differences should be embraced, yes?"

"Yes." Cryosanthia is quick to agree, standing and moving towards the door, "It should be a happy reunion."

The white-scale sith nods to Sabina, "That was my goal, yes, to embrace the differences. There are many rough edges."

Faranmidahn tries really hard to push her baggage back down, turning to force a smile up to the two orphans in turn, then, she clears her throat and says, "We'll have to ride the rest of the way, it's too dangerous for the airship." She gently touches Cryo's arm in passing, patting her twice and leading them down to the next phase of their transportation.

The ride is a small wagon with a team of suitable beasts for the journey. She doesn't bring Torrent, yet, though she does fit him with all of his tack before they leave. There are several distant vistas to regard in the distance, though up close the Desolation does earn it's moniker. Faran drives the wagon, since she knows the way and is probably the best with the creatures, considering, but aside from looking around for potential hazards, she seems to be withdrawing into herself and barely acknowledging attempts at small talk along the way.

The way to Faran's home is a tense drive for Auranar as well. She watches the world go by out the window, watching with interest, but with a low rile of anxiety twisting in her stomach. The last thing she wants is for the lucht to lose her parents the way that she herself has, or possibly worse... the way that Sabina has. She clenches her teeth, and keeps her mouth shut lest she say something untoward, and wishes that the ride was all the faster.

Cryosanthia sits beside Faran, her tail curled around her and back across her lap. While a friendly gesture, the tail weighs more than the lucht does, making it a rather secure safety belt. She's unlikely to go anywhere as long as Cryo keeps it put. She gazes off in the distance, out of habit of watching for threats. There's a window to talk into the main area of the wagon and the sith-makar uses it a lot, snaking her neck around and sticking her head through upside-down. Only once does she get hung up on her horns. "Looks Ok so far." She reports each time, and occasionally, "Whatchya talking about?"

Sabina is watchfull at this return to her home soil. She knows that just around the next bend may be a danger or a new friend in the making and in either case it's wise to pay attention here. Her smile is wide at this reunion of person to homeland, however, and she looks for other things familiar enough to draw nostalgia from within. "It never gets old to me. Even if much of it appears the same."

Faranmidahn continues to control the wagon, secured by the press of Cryosanthia's tail, the gesture helping, even as she talk between her other friends reassure her that she isn't alone in her quest to find out conclusively the answer to her current dread. Just as much they remind her that the answer isn't guaranteed to be sun and rainbows, none that aren't writhing along the skin of the Everstorm. "We're about a league away, we should see the camp soon."

The knowledge that they will arrive soon has Auranar sitting upright, soothing her skirts in a nervous fashion. She offers a smile to Sabina, knowing that she hasn't been the most pleasant company during this whole journey (she's hardly said anything and that feels rude). "Sorry, we're not talking about much. Gosh that storm seems so different down /here/." She leans and looks out the window at it to get a better look.

"Well... normally I'd have some interesting story, or I'd keep asking questions until I got an interesting story. At least, that's what I used to do when I had real company. I'll try to think of something worth singing. I guess I'm worried what's in the box." Cryosanthia explains to everyone behind her. Her tail squeezes on Faranmidahn, then she stretches her head up to see if she can spot the approaching camp. "Shouldn't be long now, hot soup, friends, marvelling at the storm. A great evening."

The palescale manages to sound positive. Only holding onto the seat a little tightly.

Bina grins back in return to Auranar and shrugs lightly. "You're not here to entertain me? I could do more on my side of things too. I think we're all worried about what we may lay ahead is all. The unknown brings that out in us all." She then nods to Cryo. "Hot food sounds a wonder as does a few songs and stories. Perhaps I can dredge some up from memmory."

Faranmidahn's nerves are still fairly wound by the time the final leg of the journey begins, the trail cresting a hill to bring an obviously built up camp near a raised outcropping of rock hooking like an accusing finger across a vast basin toward the lightening wreathed Everstorm as it twists and writhes.

The Lucht looks about with more haste and a tremble begins in her hands as all seems quiet in the camp. Maybe it's just... it's mealtime. That's it, everyone's inside for dinner. Everything's fine. It's then, as they get closer as certain discolorations become apparant, as certain accumulations of snow and rhime ice become more apparant, she whispers a taunt, "....no...!" and cracks the reins in a sudden frenzy, "HYAH! HYAH!" and the trembling becomes outright tremors as she repeats almost like a golem with a frozen gear, "No..no nonononononononno....!"

Auranar doesn't realize that there's a problem until the horses jerk the carrage forward in a sudden burst of forward momentum. Then... Faran's words reach her ears and the dark skinned elf is leaning out the window to look at the line of ice that is suddenly covering the grass most unnaturally. "Oh. No. Oh gods. What /is/ that?" Snow? It's /snow/. Snow and ice have encapsulated everything. Suddenly the edge of the chill hits Auranar and she shivers.

The sith is quiet, looking straight ahead again. She allows the weight of this mission to settle on her, and with it the cold, clinical, emptiness of the tower. Her movements become minimal, her tail remains a snug weight on Faran's lap but she might be more conscious of how its stealing heat. Cryo closes her eyes and thinks, would She? Would She reach this far, just because she could. Am I an instrument of my friends' undoings? Not a thought she wants to entertain when her ratio of successs to disasters is so imbalanced. What is over the next hill, then, she sees...r

Her hands tighten, she stands so she can see further, holding tight to the roof. She thumps it twice, a warning, be ready, and watches as the camp pulls closer and she leaves her heart behind.

Bina closes her eyes and her face contorts into a look of pain. "Two screams like that have happened in just a short span of time. It can't be anything but her." She says softly and to Auranar as the cold hits. She takes out her holy symbol and prays to Tarien. "Please my lord of laughter. Help us so that we may share the warmth of your blessings once again in a better time and place."

The wagon passes the open gate of the camp perimeter and the team seems about to ram the building before faran gets rein properly drawn. The Lucht yells, "Kagadash? Sornim!" toward one direction as she digs herself out of Cryosanthia's tail, leaping down to the unnaturally snowy ground, "FATHER!" She draws her sword, even though something in the deep dark know s it's pointless, "MOTHER?" A shakey free hand points toward one tent, "Infirmary!" another tent is labeled as the "Mess!" and she runs toward the primary structure.

The moment that the carriage stops Auranar is hopping out of the back. Really... she's not certain what she /can/ do, but she's on Faran's heels as quick as she can move. "Faran! Don't run off! Wait! There might still be trouble here!" She's not even sure the lucht can hear her, but the worry has become reality and all she can do is try to keep pace with the smaller woman. It's perhaps the first time in her life that she's been glad of being bigger than someone given that she's not particularly tall herself.

Bina is slower to get out then Auranar but still quick enough. She draws the cloak she throught she might not have to use out and around her shoulders, clasping it about her neck and ignoring Emp's grumbles.

She pauses there a moment, noting that Faran and Auranar have run off in one way she pulls out a dagger and moves forward towards the tent marked infirmary, slowly but with some purpose and building dread.

Cryosanthia leaps off the carriage as soon as Faran does, hitting the ground. She has no knowledge of the layout, names, anything. She's searching for scents, the sounds of someone alive. The snow crunching underfoot. "Anyone? Hello?"

Lacking clues, she follows Sabina to the infirmary.

Faranmidahn is hasty, and the chill in the air actually raises gooseflesh along skin that won't take kindly to the sun for very long as she hasn't cast her usual standby, yet. A glance back at the sound of her name tells anyone looking into her face that she her horse has thrown at least one shoe. Speaking of, "Enkesys! Here, boy!" She draws up near the door, lightly touching the back of her knuckles against the doorknob, testing to make sure it's not cold enough freeze to before she tries to open it. Please be ranging, Daddy, please be ranging, Hunter above let him be ranging, please... pleasepleaseplease...?

The infirmary is silent as the rest of the camp, the enclosed air cold enough to prick the nostrils, a khazad frozen to one of the beds and a sil woman bent slightly as she was caught handing him what was probably a bowl of soup, a kindly smile locked upon her lips.

Auranar comes up to a short stop as Faran does. Doesn't want to run into the other woman. It's cold. /So/ cold. Like winter lives here and she's shivering with it. Her breath comes up in short puffs of white air hanging around in a halo around her head. She struggles not to let her teeth chatter as she takes in the sight before her eyes. People. Frozen in mid-step. Frozen like statues. She moves toward one like it's a dream and reaches out. Hesitantly at first and then she's touching ice but... it's a /person/. She shivers again and it's not from the cold. "Oh gods." She looks around in horror. They're dead. Corpses standing there. Suddenly her stomach rolls and her dark complexion takes on an ashen sheen. She's never seen a dead body before. She blinks tries to breathe and quickly steps back from the person thats stairing at her blankly. Dead eyes. Gods. She's shaking and that's not just the cold anymore either...

Sabina takes only a short time to inspect the place and it's occupants, her eyes closing as her head lowers. She turns to Cryo and speaks to her in a quick urgent tone. "Do we need to rush to Faranmidahn's side and stop her or allow her to find more horrors we know are going to be here, Cryosanthia? This is a duplicate of her work we saw just a long set of hours ago."

Cryosanthia is struck still by the sight inside the infirmary. "No..." She breathes. She locks eyes with Sabina, "She's gone ahead to her family tent. She's going to find them. We need to stop here, there's nothing we can do but wish some were away. Come."

Cryo turns, running back outside again, tearing after the sound of Faran's voice. Sometimes in Am'shere the ground drops right out from under you, a crust, a hidden burrow, an underground stream washout. That one is falling, doesn't even register properly at first, visually things are moving while the inner ear hasn't caught up. This is how it feels for the sith-makar as she runs to catch up with Faran and Auranar; she's already plummeting in the hole and hasn't realized it yet.

Into Endless Winter. Perfect Winter. Nothing changing. A frozen scene. She forcibly stifles the first thing that comes to her lips, unbidden, she can't say it. Cryo is horrified she even thought it.

Thank you Mistress.

"I'm responsible." She whispers, staring at those dead eyes, "Oh Faran."

Faranmidahn's teeth are clenched tightly though she is clearly shivering badly by the time she steps into another frozen hell. All these people... familiar faces... kind memories, some.... some indifferent... but... familiar.... and now they're gone. Wait.... She looks at the shelves, "The research..." she murmurs softly, noticing several bare patches in the frost where most of the tomes and journals have been removed after the iceover, "What would she...?" At the desk though.... on the desk, pretty as you please, is a note emblazoned with a snowflake mark, and her sword clangs to the frosted floor as she races to it.

Auranar... She's not okay. This is is so far from /okay/. She can't imagine how Faran is dealing with it. She looks at the lucht and moves toward her but Faran is already moving, always moving. Instead Auranar looks at Cryosanthia, bites her lip. "No. You... you didn't do this Cryosanthia." Her voice sounds oddly hollow in her own ears, but in reality it's as hoarse as it was when she spoke of her parents death. She moves. Has to move. Drives herself forward after Faran because she can't leave the other woman alone. The room has been stripped of many of its books, she can tell. She's a researcher herself. Then she notices the letter and her arms wrap around her body, it's /freezing/ in here.

Bina is right on Cryo's heels as they trace after Faran and Auranar and come quickly apon the sight of more frozen death. She sidesteps into the room, watching Faran closely, her breath steaming here in what feels to be the coldest space visited. The cold itself makes her pause. "Was she here longer then other places? It's so cold."

Cryosanthia moves through the frozen landscape like it's her natural environment. To a degree it is. She doesn't feel the cold, the harsh dry air is a refreshing change for her lungs. Inside, her emotional guardian is put to the test, bodily on top of a mess that's about to boil out of control. Auranar's reassurrance helps, but gets lost in the mess. Sabina's question draws her attention enough she rambles off some facts.

"Her Tower can, it can be anywhere. It creates cold like this around it. There may even be a footprint. I am sure She is strong enough on Her own."

Faranmidahn's head is shaking as she shambles to a stop at Mother's desk, as though it had a 'protection from halfing's spell cast upon it, inarticulate murmurs and several dischordant notes that could have been fumbled attempts at syllables pass her lip as she starts to pace back and forth like a caged animal, barely more than twice her shoulder width with a faltering hand outstretched toward it. Her steps become increasingly shuffling, head canting tither and yon as though she was at war in her own head, only to go ramrod as her hand touches the note. As her friends converge behind her, the little sorcererss starts to move again bringing the note, unfolded, to reading distance. Noises. Mouth noises. Talking. People talk. People are talking. Near. Behind. Talking behind her. She's dealing with it... not great?

Auranar can't stand it. She... drifts toward Faran as if the lucht is made of a metal that draws elves. The empty shelves are like cold sentenals watching and suddenly Auranar's gentle fingers touch Faran's hand. Touch the note that she's unfolding and she pinches her lips shut briefly. "Faran. Faran." She says the name gently and moves so that she's standing in front of her new friend. "P-please." She doesn't even know what she's asking but her stomach is in knots and her eyes hurt and she's /so/ cold. The clothing she's wearing was never meant for this weather. She licks her lips and tries to reach Faran with her dark gaze. "It's okay."

It's not. It's really not and she's crying for Faran. Tears that freeze on her cheeks. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." It's a whisper and she doesn't know if it's /okay/ to hug Faran or not. So she doesn't. She stands there stupidly.

Bina tries so hard to watch. To witness the pain and honor it for what it is and what is means. She has to look away if only for a few seconds to retain what control she has left. Drawing in a stinging breath she moves over closer to that pain and reaches out a hand as if to take the note. Her movements slow and steady. Trying not to provoke or startle the pained Lucht. "Faranmidahn.. Faranmidahn.. Let go."

All around, ice, snow and cold. This is a part of her. She is a part of it. Her heritage and her time in the tower has made this the most comfortable environment for her. The white-scale sith-makar steps forward, picks up Faranmidan, without asking and with little warning. She turns her head, looking at Auranar, then Sabina.

"It's too cold. There's Nothing here." She states the obvious. "You need to be someplace warmer. Think. Come."

Cryosanthia moves direct and without hesitation, out of the tent, out of the winter wonderland, back to where there is grass without frost and the frozen horror isn't everywhere.

The lucht, as ever, isn't that much heavier than a lapdog or a really 'well-rounded' cat, though her grip on the note is like iron, and, is even as the way she's being carried makes rocks her, casting her limbs largely to swaying like willow boughs in the wind, her eyes are locked, harpooned by the delicate, artful lines composing Salina's frame of her most recent affront. It's a question whether or not she's breathing, but little Zephyr is trying to stay on her hair as all of this is going on. The sword already frosting over.

Auranar doesn't try to hold onto the note, wouldn't risk ripping such a delicate thing, but she achingly wants to take it away as if shielding the lucht from that much might shield her from the rest of what's been done. She blinks her tears and hurries after Cryosanthia dumbly, the ache in her chest and the tightness in her stomach an unfamiliar and unpleasant sensation. The elf trails along, wringing her hands uselessly until they're out of the wasteland of ice and back on grass that doesn't crunch underfoot.

Bina takes one last look around as if trying to understand the alien intent of the Winter Queen. She sighs then, breath smoking heavily, before moving along after the others and sheathing her dagger. She takes her chilled hands and brings the cloak on her shoulders closed to trap her warmth the best she can. "Madness." She states to the air as she leaves the frozen place behind.

The white sith moves with purpose, and settles to the ground once it is soft. She concentrates and her clothes become a lot warmer, for the lucht, to shield her. Deep velvet cloth with large fur ruffs, all white but with the glacial highlights in patterns, in particular the fur.

Cryosanthia holds Faranmidahn carefully, her neck and head above the lucht's like an umbrella or strange helmet. Her gaze is distant, "This one cannot fathom Her. I'm so sorry Faran." Words, do not suffice.

Faranmidahn's body shivers in Cryosanthia's arms and her nightmare scenario, her worst case has given her silence. Nerves slacken and there is a softly clicking hiss as her lips drift slightly apart to draw in breath between chattering teeth. The white spider is prodding the sorceress with her forelegs for some time as her mistress just sits there, staring at the note, though at the sounds above her, or the chilled dryness of her eyes, something makes her close them and she brings both hands to her face and she unleashes a long, baleful moan into them.

Auranar... welll she sort of hovers nearby, not really certain what to do with herself. So she stands there, and when Faran cries out she makes a low sympathetic noise in her throat and she settles down in the grass, not caring for once about her skirts or what the grass will likely do to the cloth. All she can do is watch. All she can do is bear witness.

Sabina does bear witness to Faran's grief. Her face tightens with surpressed emotions as she watches. The second witnessing in as many days of grief hard and cold as the land just a few feet back where they came from.

She moves then towards the cart and their baggae and supplies, rooting about within until she finds needfull things to start setting up camp, begining with a fire and tripod with kettle for tea. She knows she can not soothe with wrods now. It is too soom so instead she does what she can to soothe in other ways.

That sound is known to her. Instinct calls, as Cryosanthia recognizes the pain, for her to join in, amplify the noise. Let the whole world know a tragedy has occurred. One that should not be ignored. Her own mournful song starts, a dirgeful wail that signals you are not alone in your grief, others have been touched and wounded and we are with you. Your anguish must be heard. Cryo's unresolved grief joins in but she has new terrible feelings to sing from these sights, to carry Faran's high and far.

What words can be used for comfort, what promises? Nothing. Overtop of her noises she can only add her friend's name, to give her some grounding. "Faran...."

The hands fall and the note slips free, only to catch up against her leg. The lucht brings in another, quavering breath before the first sobs start, softly at first, then increasing in intensity between intakes of breath as she starts to curl in on herself and it's about as her legs touch Cryo's arms about her that she breaks out in great, bawling tears. The little spider swivels, looking between the Sith and the human, the elf, turning and waiting, turning and waiting with tiny onyx eyes, not knowing what to do.

Auranar bites her lip and then she reaches out and rubs Faran's back. There's approval in her gaze as she tracks Sabina's movements, and she nods once to the other woman before she realizes that the letter has falen and with hesitation picks it up. She doesn't want it to get lost, or hurt, or... She holds it against her chest gently, not reading it. Instead she offers her hand to the little spider as a optional perch to Faran's head. If she can't comfort Faran then... Maybe she can help the lucht's familiar instead.

As the activity continues, some of the rhime ice collected on the corner of the building falls free to thump into the frozen grass. The proper winds of the area try to return the heat, though the lingering effects of the Endless Winter's visit steals much of their blessing before they reach the sole living occupants of the camp.

The Tsuran woman flinches as Cryo joins in the wailing, pausing with her back turned from them before the tripod. She moves again as soon as the wails stop and the sobs begin, taking out a dagger to cut into the sod. A circle for the camp fire. The sod set to the side to be replaced after.

Water is called to the pot from Tarien's blessings. The ball mesh filled with tea leaves and set into the pot. Then to get things going faster she calls apon magic to warm the pot and the tinder, quickly a fire is started.

"Cry Faran, let them know how much you cared, everything you feel now is from love, what they meant. You honour them. Feel, don't hold ..." Cryosanthia says, her voice soothing, her painful song switching to something more comforting. The noise she's made most often for herself, but which was always meant for others. I'm here. I will protect. I am bigger. Primitive promises and hardly truths, but it's the best the sith has to reassure her friend. She catches Auranar's attention, glances at the held familiar, and coos carefully to Faran, "Zephyr doesn't understand Faran, she wants to help you, she's here for you Faran, we're all here. Whatever you need, as long as you need."

Zephyr scurries onto the Elf's hand, looking in her direction before starting this little bobbing dance on her palm then, after a few seconds, tucks in like a little puff. Faran's grief is lasting, and her tears burn for the cold as they flow. The warm clothes and the fire start to alleviate the woes her conscious mind has been too overstressed to acknowledge, but it isn't until the tea is nearly ready that words finally seem to be getting past the anguish and the lucht, a dreadful mess for the crying, manages to lift her gaze to her friends about her, the tiny spider turning in Auranar's hand to regard her. She closes her eyes anew, shaking her head, but starts to choke back the sobs. Longer time, more breaths between new fits, until she is, for the moment at least, back into an anguished functionality once more. Laceclad hands lift tremulously toward the elf and she only says, "...I'm sorry...!"

While her mistress is so distressed Auranar takes comfort in being able to hold the small familiar. The soft dance brings a soft smile to her lips that's slightly embittered by the harshness of the situation. "I wish I knew what you were saying." She offers as apology to the little spider, petting it until finally Faran can breathe once more. Then when Faran reaches out for her familiar Auranar is quick to allow the little spider's return in the hopes that it will soothe the woman to have her returned. "There is nothing to apologize for."

Sabina makes another trip for cups to hold the tea, taking her time. When she returns she begins to pour out the cups one at a time and hand them out. As she does she sings softly a Tsuran song but changed the words to the language of the Lucht. Sad song, a dirge. The song sounding as old as the land they rest apon. <<Rough wind, that moanest loud. Grief too sad for song; Wild wind, when sullen cloud. Knells all the night long; Sad storm whose tears are vain, Bare woods, whose branches strain, Deep caves and dreary main,--Wail, for the world’s wrong!>> The last cup she pours for herself and sits down to complete their small circle. The peacock on her shoulder hopping down to roost beside her.

Cryosanthia rocks back and forth, velvet shrouded arms holding onto the lucht. Her comfort vibration continues to spread through Faran's back. "No apologies Faran, none needed. I can't imagine. This is wrong. So unfair. She is empty. She doesn't understand, doesn't know how this will not break us, will rebound on her. She will pay, you will make her, we will see it."

Her cihuaa's words, as best as she can remember them. They're little comfort, the sith knows, but they're all she can think of. She takes one of the cups and holds it for Faran to sip from. One hand goes through motions and light trickles and swirls down her arm as quiet, ghostly accompanyment adds to Sabina's song.

Faranmidahn's lip quivers as the familiar rejoins her and she cradles the little creature to her breast, but doesn't try to speak past that point, at first. She lifts tormented eyes to the women, a flicker of gratitude managing to pierce the despair. The song isn't one she knows as her own, though the words... the words can be no truer for her, right now. The offer of tea after Cryosanthia's words is met with reticence, but she ultimately sips from it twice before she finally utters a weak, true, "Th-thank you... all of you... I... endangered you all... please forgive me..."

Auranar accepts the tea gently, laying the letter still unread on her lap so that she can accept it. She holds it close to herself, clearly glad both of the warmth of the fire, and the hot liquid that she sends her breath across to cool. "There is /nothing to forgive/." Auranar states the words firmly and turns her dark eyes on Faran briefly before looking away, into her cup. "If I could summon that bitch here right now I'd beat the ever-living life out of her with my bare hands. I don't care that she made some magic plague. Or that she can freeze people where they stand." She sniffs and straitens her spine. "It'd be enough satisfaction to see the /look/ on her face."

Bina shakes her head. "We forget that the wrold is not safe. We congregate together and work together and the dangers are lessened but they are always there, Faranmidahn. You have not endangered us." She looks around to the others and then settles her eyes on Cryo. "When the time is right, I would hear everything about the Queen of Winter you know or can remember from time spent there. Everything. There are things that need to be thought apon. A random thought comes to my mind."

"Don't hug the scorpion's tail, Auranar." Faran says softly, eyes half lidding. She looks mournfully around the group at the statues and she almost withers, "I knew these people.... all these people.... gone just... Gone." A shake of the head and she reaches up to gently curl her hand over Cryo's arm, "Is there anything we can... do for them? At least not leave them like this...?"

Cryosanthia shrinks a little, nodding to Sabina. Certain the information she could share would be disappointingly brief. She rubs at Faran, holding the cup for when she wants it. "She makes it less so. I will do my best to explain her, some time when we are not facing her work."

The sith noses carefully at the lucht, "We... can do what must be done in the camp. Let us... know, when you are ready, what it is."

"My people, would burn the remains. Or they may be buried. As you wish."

Auranar looks toward the camp and her eyes tighten. Slowly she sets aside the note and the tea and she rises to her feet. "I will attend to it. You stay here Faran." A look to the sith-makar to encourage her to remain as well, for the sith is still comforting Faran and that's more important work. "Best it be done before things begin to thaw."

Bina nods and also rises after draining her cup. "Passers by and scavengers both two legged and four will be by here. What do you wish us to do with the valuables and items that are here? Burn them? Burry them? Leave them left to be found and scattered with theose that pass?" A sensible but somewhat cold question. "Or are there those that we can ..make ready for kith and kin?"

Sabina says, "I am willing to stay until others can be contacted to collect family if there is need. There were those that did so for me and I would return the favor if I am able too."

Faranmidahn closes her eyes again and her little spider disappears into her hair once more as she thinks about that, "I would.. have them returned to their families..." She gently patpats Cryo's arm and exhales a termulous sigh through her nose before she starts trying to rise, "There may... have been new transfers, though most of these souls I knew. The Arcanist Society at the least will need to know what's happened.... and the Purple Rose must know about..." her voice tightens, "About...."

Cryosanthia keeps rocking back and forth, quietly cooing and making comforting noises for Faran. Her clothing becomes even more plush, extra deep velvet with large furry ruffs to rival even the lucht's fuzziness. To keep her warm, keep her insulated, comfort her with the things she seems to like. The sith is not fluffy, but she can fake it with her clothes. Hopefully this will help.

"Shhh...shhh... it's Ok Faran, we'll handle it. We'll notify." She rubs at the lucht, stroking her back and hugging her.

The sith looks at Auranar, Sabina. She glances at the carriage, it would not make a good hearse. "Send for Mourners? Load up the valuables to take back where they need to be. Close the camp while some of us wait and some of us go?"

Auranar rolls her shoulders. "I will lay the bodies out. It would be best though to bury them here and now. I doubt that they would burn given how frozen everything is." She sighs. "I'll do what I can for now." She starts to drift away. The note on the ground ruffles in the wind.

Bina comes to Faran and kneels "I am sorry, Faranmidhan. Sorry that we must ask you to do anything right now at all. This should be your time to grieve as you wish. But if you desire to see things set right here as best we can then we'll need you to identify those you can after we set them out. I'll find things to make signs for grave markers and write them as you tell us names. Items can be sealed in containers to hold each tent or shelter's items and again marked with family name. We'll tryto make this as simple and as painless as we can, ok?" She offers the lucht a sad smile.

Faranmidahn is still fighting down the effect of looking at -it-, working around it... it's too soon, she had to know it was... work around it, but not... she couldn't look at -it-. Not yet. That she's being torn in two directions on this is obvious, but she dips her chin and draws in her breath deep, then, "I must.... I have to.. they deserve... they deserve so much more but I can't..." She chokes off her words and starts to gather her feet again, and steps quickly over as she spies the note fluttering as if ready to be taken in the wind.

Cryosanthia slips to her feet as Faran gets to hers. She moves over beside Auranar. She has a very blank sort of stare, at nothing in particular on the ground, and her voice is neutral and quiet. "This one can make a cold tent and keep them from thawing. It feels like adding insult to injury but they would be preserved. The Airstation is not many hours behind us. Carts could be sent while the rest of us pack up the valuables and there may be a transport in here we could load. I don't with to burden Faran with decisions, she seems to want them all to go home, it will take more time but there's no reason we can't respect her wishes."

All of it said quietly so it won't trouble the lucht, and Cryo looks her way once she's done her explanation. "This one could ride quickly, but I might be better here, for comfort and the sorting. The cold will not bother me, and still tasks the rest of you."

Auranar nods to Cryosanthia. "A cold tent is a good idea I just..." She hesitates and looks at the tents that they had brought for sleeping in. "Did not relish the idea of the dead being in so close proximity. Perhpas we can use the medical tent? It seemed large enough, and it's still very cold in there." The elf looks over at Sabina. "Would you be willing to make the drive? I've never driven a carriage before." She has the grace to look a little embarassed.

Bina sighs. "It's been a long time for me. I've not had riegns in my hands for years but I can try. Perhaps I should take Faran and she can correct me? If not I will do my best and explain things once I get to the station." She says softly. "But her spider mount should stay here as well as gear we will need for this evening."

Faranmidahn takes up the note in her hands again, very steady, very quite and she unbuckles her breastplate on one side and slips it under the leather cuirass. Buckle buckle, then, she spends a moment cleaning her face with a handkerchief before she turns back to the women, "Torrent is still on the ship." she says softly, "I can.. summon him if we need, but I can only do it, once." She moves closer, "I can.... I can take her back once I've... once i've identified everyone, and then I'll return."

"Faran... are you going to be okay riding alone?" Cryosanthia asks. She mulls it over, the ride might give a sense of purpose, away from here, also good. Returning, will be hard. Her mouth tightens as she thinks. It would give everyone else the opportunity to deal with things, and while the sights are horrific, they don't cut as deep as they would for the lucht.

"It would save you sitting and fretting, but you will be okay, to ride and return? You won't go... swimming?" Cryo tilts her head as she asks the last.

"She will /not/ go alone." Auranar says sternly. "She will take someone with her when she goes. And... I will come with her to identify the bodies." The elf moves closer to Faran and lays a hand on her shoulder. "Leave Torrent where he is, take the carriage and one of us when you go."

Bina turns to Faran and nods to her. "We will take your lead, Faranmidahn. We seek only to.. " She trails off and shakes her head. "To ease things as we may. If we take it too far it is because we are worried and care. Tell us what you wish to do and we will make it so."

Seeming about to answer the sith's query after a moment, whatever Faran was about to say is curtailed by Auranar's assertions. There might be something, a protest, an uncertainty, whatever it is in her eyes it only lasts a moment. She lowers her chin, looking askance, a moment or two, then lifting her gaze once more, "As you say." Bina's words seem to balm her mood some, though, and she nods another, "As.. you say...." swallow, "Thank you, friends... "

The wintery sith-makar performed all the duties with an automatic mute efficiency. It descended upon her, a habitual attitude, cleaning up her Mistressess' messes without fuss, without reaction. Almost without thought. The horror is too much, and she's long practiced in not thinking about it. It's fortunate Faranmidahn isn't around to see her friend in this state. Despite the fluffiness of her clothes, the way she moves speaks of having seen this, and worse, many times before even if she can't remember it. It's a learned reaction, a suppression, a dissociation to protect herself, but it makes her seem like the Endless Winter Queen, or her puppet. Neither sight would help the lucht if she witnessed it.

Finally, the task is done. The victims are moved to the Infirmary. The valuables are packed for transport, the less valuable research station items, like the semi-permanent structures are disassembled and packed for later pick-up. The camp is ready to move.

The other camp for the group is set up, with tents and a roaring fire. There is warmth, but hardly enough.

With everything done, and everyone returned Auranar moves to sit by the campfire to ease the chill out of her hands. She streches her fingers and pours herself a cup of tea. "What I wouldn't give right now for some nice mulled wine." She sighs regrefully and then seems to cheer after a moment, pulling out a little flask from the folds of her skirts. "Who's for a little spice for their tea?"

Bina holds out her cup for the added extra to be poured in. "Yes, please. I don't have wine for mulling but I did bring a bottle of white. I think we could break that out after everyone is warmer?" She adjusts the bedroll with her free hand as the peacock settles into her lap. "I also brought some sweets. Because Alexandria is filled with wonders." She says lightly but also quietly.

Once returned, the albino was in more... stable condition, though still a far cry from alright. Her friends are each embraced in turn, in fierce, silent fervor as she found them, and she sounds only a genuine, if subdued 'Thank you' as she withdrew. She sits with Zephyr sort of perched on her chest as she slowly oils her longblade, her eyes far away, with neither wrath nor serenity within that distance, but there comes an absent, "Please." <Halfling>

"Yes please." Cryosanthia holds out her mug towards Auranar for the spice, then Sabina for the wine. She's withdrawn, although it's her and not a mock-fae version. She sits with her legs crossed, her clothes all fluffy and her tail coiled around into her lap where she holds onto the tailtip. It's a very youngling sort of gesture, one that was old when Cryo was 21, certainly inappropriate at her current age. She's upset at all levels and her emotional guardian is exhausted and sprawled in a heap on top of them. She shakes her head, "This one cannot explain. I'm so sorry Faran, so much."

She curls up tightly on herself, "Winter and cold are things I enjoy, and She's ruined them. There was beauty, She has none, knows none."

The 'spice' of course is alcohol. A strong one too, as it seems that when Auranar likes to drink... she likes to get it done properly. She pours some out in her own tea as well of course. "I wouldn't mix that with wine if I were you, it's got a rather nasty kick." She flashes a grin that's all teeth and pleasure and takes a drink of her altered tea. A sharp exhaltion of breath follows.

Bina takes a sip from the altered tea and raises a brow. "Should I ask? Or leave be?" She asks Auranar. Her eye goes over to Cryo and she slowly shakes her head. Setting the tea to one side she reaches for her pack and pulls out a small bag that almost rattles like beans. Rolling open the top reveals dark brown seeds? "Chocolate covered almonds. With cinamin." She offers the bag around.

Faranmidahn sets her oilcloth down to accept her teacup, well seasoned in all likelihood, especially for one of her size. It's brought to her lips absently. Her eyes close, but.. that's a looong sip. "It's alright, Cryo." while she looks better than she sounds, she doesn't sound like she's about to do something crazy.

The sith is happy with the alcoholic spice, or the spicy alcohol, and if the wine will get her there faster she's happy to have that added to the mix. She holds the mug with both hands, a visible puff of breath as she sits with her tail curled around tight. She takes some almonds, eating them slowly. "I can answer questions, if you mean this one. I was Her Beloved Pet for some time. It left a mark."

Cryosanthia removes her left glove, displaying a snowflake on the back of her left hand. "My casting hand. So I'd always remember I am hers when I make magic."

Auranar drinks her tea perhaps... a bit more quickly than she really should, welcoming the false warmth that it gives her with a little shiver. "It's a speciality of a friend of mine. It's strong stuff." She smiles at Sabina, and accepts a bit of the seeds, and spreads them out on her lap. "None of that now Cryosanthia. I think the last thing we need is to hear more about that... /woman/. What do you want to do Faran? Maybe play a drinking game?"

Sabina grins at Auranar and nods. "Perhaps I'll try to find your friend." She looks around at the others and gets a feel for the tiny gathering. "I think a huddle together for warmth and comfort while looking at the stars and storm sounds like a good thing to me? There are tales of the stars. I'm trying to remember them but they're slipping though my thoughts."

The look turned to the sith, or rather, the mark on her hand isn't a good one, it's also a look laden with turning gears. Faran turns her gaze back to the blade resting across her lap and sips her tea some more. Her eyes go faraway as she listens anew, seeing how this piece connects to that one, how this strand made the scene dance. May the Hunter guide the Spider as she begins to spin... "Sure." she says absently

Cryosanthia quickly slips her glove back on, looking ashamed and guilty. "This one apologizes." She takes a long sip from her mug, draining it, and stares up at the sky.

"This one knows a story of a shepardess. Not a sith story, as we don't have those. Myrrish, I think, they like to make rustic tales for things they hardly pursue anymore. A shepardess would tend her flock on a hill, and one day a cloud descended and the King of the Sky said he would make her his bride, as long as she agreed to one condition. This was to never look in one room. She was very impressed with his cloud, and his castle of glass and readily agreed. They were wed, she was crowned Queen, and the cloud went back up into the sky. Life was bliss. She lived in a place of crystal, one could see from one room to any other room, except this one which had opaque walls. Every day her husband would go into the room, for an hour. She had no idea what he was doing in there. Finally, she snuck in. What do you think she found?"

Auranar pours herself more tea, and more drink. She's not sure what Faran's saying 'sure' to, but Cryo takes it as a reason to tell a story so she makes herself comfortable. "Go on. Tell us then."

Sheabina takes a few of the candied almond and savors their taste as she watches the play between Cryo and Faran. Her eyes fall back to the bag of sweets and she stifles a sigh. The spiked tea is then lifted and sipped as she awaits Cryo to continue.

Faranmidahn still seems mostly stuck in her own head though in the firelight, Zephyr seems to have settled into her little coconut puff posture against the Lucht's neck. She doesn't venture a guess, but she's vaguely looking upward, now, a glow to her cheeks, perhaps from her seasoning.

"This one is telling the story wrong. It's meant to be adjusted. For commoners the extravagance of each room is described. For Lords and Ladies, the same, but the extravagance should be based on their own dwelling so they relate to it. If the crowd is mostly men, focus on male stereotypes, like arming and trophy rooms, if mostly women, their stereotypes, closets and spas. If mixed, both, especially if the woman is martial and it would get a laugh to imply she needed a soft comfort. List all rooms except the Throne room, so the smarter in the audience might guess. Ultimately the rooms are irrelevant, so I left them out." Cryosanthia explains, gazing at the bag of sweets but not asking for one. She inhales and goes the rest of the way.

"So, she finds his Throne, in a Throne and hides behind it to see what happens. Which is this. He comes in, sits on the throne and turns into a giant spider. And for the entire hour he is a giant spider, sitting on the throne. Then he turns back into her husband and leaves the room."

"She leaves too. The castle is no longer a crystal castle in the sky, it is simply a house, the clouds have turned into a hill, her sheep are there. Her husband is still her husband and says nothing about the room. Everything is the same. And different."

The sith brushes at her legs, hunching forward. "It's got a point but I don't understand it. I hoped you'd like it because it had a spider in it. I think... it was not a good choice, all things considered."

Auranar arches one dark eyebrow at the sith and shakes her head. "That sounds like a very, very drunk story." She smiles to take any edge off her words and looks up at the night sky. "It's not a bad story though. I think the moral of the story is something like... you should let the people you love have their secrets. Because they might not change the person you love, but they might change how you see them. Like seeing a spider rather than the one you married. Or maybe it's just saying that you should love who you love no matter who they are. Because love changes the world. Maybe it's both." It's too philosophical for her so she drinks more alcohol.

Sabina smiles at the story and then shrugs lightly to Auranar. "The story is what all stories are. Leasons, history, entertainment and conversation beginers. A chance to interact and know one another and each other's point of view. And I would say the only wrong story is the one left untold." She gathers up the bag of candy and tosses it lightly to Cryo. "Everyone has a story to tell, a story to write and a story that is yet to be writen. The question always boils down to what story will you write with your life?"

Pink eyes half lid at the story's conclusion, "Don't look if you can't bear the answer you might find." comes from behind Faran's spiked teacup in a near murmur before she drains it and sets it aside. She turns her chin slightly toward the side the spider's on, then looks back to the women, a little more of the world refleting in her eyes, "One to forget."

"I thought it might be that eventually the person you love turns into a spider but that's ok because you've learned to love spiders." Cryosanthia says quietly, catching the back of candies and looking through it for white ones. She won't exclusively eat white ones, but still wants them first. She gazes across at her small friend, "Faran, my biggest fear is no one would come after me. At worst our stories are lessons for others. There's only one who deserves to be forgotten. Not you. Not your family."

"She will be erased. After all this, She must be. Here, have some sweets. Forget Her. Sleep. That's all we can do now."

Auranar tracks one eye to the sith-makar, looking at her and the lucht. "Never fear. There's at least one person here that'll come after both of you." She flashes a white-toothed smile at them and salutes with her cup. "To the death of the winter my friends."

Faranmidahn accepts the bag, perhaps realizing she's eaten nothing since.... since the Defense, really and pours out a few before passing it on down. The talk of coming after her brings the Lucht's eyes up, smouldering and wet, "You think -no one- would come after you...?" her voice cut to the bone, "You think I'd....?" but, certain unpleasant truths come up in her memory and she turns her face away, ashamed.... with the only answer to Aura's toast is, "...she'll pay..."

"No one did Faran, the firsst time or the sssecond time." The sith's voice is quiet and distant. And hissy from drink. She shakes her head violently, "No! It's not a thing you can blame yourssself for. It happened before and afterss."

"I like that toassst! To the death of Winter! Come Sssspring!" Cryo toasts, saluting with her cup and drinking it down. She churrrrs happily at the thought and stretches out on her side, her inner landscape awash with alcohol and what better use for ice? Her thoughts slosh, the ground isn't even but she can meet it halfway and her consciousness floats up and away. Things are not fine, but she doesn't have to think about them. "Yussss friendssss..."