An Unkindness, Part 2

Log Info

• Title: An Unkindness, Part 2
• Emitter: Ravenstongue
• Characters: Ravenstongue, Seyardu, Telamon, Ashes, Jinks, Morgan
• Place: A14: Society for Progressive Arcanists
• Time: Monday, November 29, 2021, 8:00 PM
• Summary: Ravenstongue and Pothy are in the library in the Society for the Progressive Arcanists, researching her options. Seyardu, Telamon, and Ashes have joined her to help. They look for books, with Telamon encountering a woman determined to turn herself into a Fae. There is an argument at the door, a man attempting to leave with books. Seyardu intervenes, and ends up in an argument with an elf who is being attacked by birds. Ashlee is successful, having located a book which describes a piece of art a Curuchuil, and the man is Ravenstongue's father. He advises Ravenstongue to turn herself over to the Fae to see what happens. He's criticized for this. Jinks and Morgan arrive, and assist. The group determines that with a ritual template that Telamon has discovered, and the curuchuil of the family, might give Ravenstongue a way out with the Feathered One.

-=--=--=--=--=--=<* A14: Society for Progressive Arcanists *>=--=--=--=--=--=-

The central courtyard of the Arcane Society is a large and sprawling affair within the heart of the city. Soaring marble pillars reach upward to the sky, four sets of three, evenly spaced apart as the massive columns form a rough circle, each trio of pillars warding a particular direction. Carved into the smooth stone floor within the center of the atrium is a massive circle within the ceiling itself, which opens always to the stars, in honor of Eluna, the Goddess of Light Magic. Taara, the Goddess of the Dark, is given no such honors.

The central courtyard radiates outwards into paths, leading through the exotic gardens of the Society. One extends to the Library, another to the College of Magic. Another path leads off to a small, rather plain looking building between the two colleges, most likely the dormitory for the students, and yet another for the famous Cafeteria. Numerous magi can be seen walking back and forth most hours of the day and night here, with familiars or other odder creatures roaming about, most of them in the latest styles, as dictated by Madame Gelfure, the a more social head than the Society has had in most of its history. Myriad scents and aromas can also be sensed, some delightful, others repugnant, others quite colorful as apprentices and magi alike go about their experiments. Arguments are not unheard of, and even the most "dignified" of magi might be seen from time to time, in a pique of anger, waving an agitated hand to teleport the disagreeable person to the top of the nearest tower.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  Appearing  =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Ravenstongue 5'0"     99 Lb      Half-Elf          Female    Short half-elf girl with violet eyes and black hair.
Seyardu      5'6"     150 Lb     Sith-Makar        Female    A friendly silver sith-makar with a perpetual squint.
Telamon      5'6"     140 Lb     Half-Elf          Male      A platinum-blond half-sil man with dancing dark eyes.
Ashes        5'11"    177 Lb     Hobgoblin         Female    A somber arvec in grey clothes with a skull face
Jinks        3'4"     39 Lb      Gnome             Male      A gnomish fellow in fancy garb and jewelry.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  Works there  =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Morgan
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  As the GM  =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Ravenstongue 5'0"     99 Lb      Half-Elf          Female    Short half-elf girl with violet eyes and black hair.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=

It's been a little over two weeks since the incident that last occurred in a disused corner of the Arcane Society's courtyard. Those who frequent the Arcane Society or even just loiter near it have heard a whisper of what went on: a ritual of some sort was cast to identify the sender of the strange bird creatures that had been following around a young half-sil sorceress named Ravenstongue.'

The full story goes something like this, according to the whispers: Much to the chagrin of Ravenstongue and the woman who cast the ritual, a lyranesi woman by the name of Lady Ainasse Lúpecyll, the ritual very much did not go according to plan. The birds transformed into odd multi-feathered creatures and flew into a flock-formation of a humanoid man, who demanded that Cor'lana (the apparent true name of the girl known as Ravenstongue) meet with him in the Felwood, as she was promised to him as a child and was taken by her birth mother before it could be fulfilled.

The entity disappeared and Lady Ainasse flew into a rage, attacking Ravenstongue (and proceeding to receive a face full of white raven attacks for her troubles). It turned out that, by sheer fate, Lady Ainasse is, in fact, Ravenstongue's step-mother in that she is married to Ravenstongue's birth father, and that she knew the entity to be a fae lord known as the Feathered One. She said that the Lúpecyll family has a dark secret: once every few generations, the Feathered One demands the head of the family's firstborn child to give up their own firstborn child to him--the "firstborn's firstborn", so to speak--and it just so happened that Ravenstongue's father discovered that his human lover that he was having an affair with behind Ainasse's back twenty years ago was pregnant with his firstborn child-to-be when the decree came down from the Feathered One.

This all certainly has made for some hot gossip among College students slacking off on their studies and the general arcane-type spellcasters involved in the Society. The half-elf Ravenstongue seems to be acutely aware of this as she passes by some bored students in the library, all looking over at her in a state of horror as though they expect her to explode into a medley of bird feathers instead of staring at their unattended textbooks. This riles up the white raven on her shoulder. "Whaddya lookin' at? Huh, punks?" he demands of the students, mimicking some greasy-sounding city slicker.

"Fuck, let's book it!" one student yelps, and the rest follow him... leaving their textbooks behind. Perhaps that'd provide a reasonable explanation for why they didn't do the homework assignment.

Ravenstongue sighs as she looks at the corvid on her shoulder, rewarding him with a little scritch on his pale head. "I appreciate it, Pothy, but you don't have to be my guardian all the time," she says. "Besides, we're here today to do some research. We have to find a way to safely communicate with the Feathered One face-to-face... and I bet the answer is somewhere here in the library. I just hope some friends show up to help, too."

"Try treats. If his beak is full, he won't be able to talk."

Telamon comes out from behind one of the stacks, and gives Raven a smile. "I just got back into town. Needless to say, gossip moves faster than a quickling hopped up on goblin coffee." The elegant-looking half-sil approaches Ravenstongue, hands open. "How can I help, Raven? The good news is that you're in the best place you could be -- and probably one of the better protected ones, at that -- for coming up with a plan."

Rarely does one wish for a Mourner to appear. Even more rarely is one counted as a friend. For a certain ashen Arvec, adding 'wanted criminal' and 'anti-social' to those hurdles makes them insurmountable. Thus, it might be counted as a miracle or not even a surprise that the skull-faced hobgoblin appears.

She likes libraries. They are quiet, like the grave. Also, full of dead trees, and she appreciates dead things. She arrives, as silent as a dying breath, and greets much louder, "Hello."

Seyardu promised to help, and promises were not something broken easily. That being said, the cleric often had many promises going on at one time. So sometimes they were strained, at least a bit. It was one of these occasions that had the silver sith-makar sprinting into the building, before she stops, and realizes where she is. The cleric takes a much more subdued pace into the library proper, looking and finding those she sought.

"Ravenstongue, Ashes! Peace on your nests, it is good to see you." She greets. "And you as well Ashes, I hope you have been doing well. I do not believe I have met the other with you, but peace on your nest, all the same."

"Telamon!" Ravenstongue brightens to see him, although her greeting has to be kept mostly to an enthusiastic whisper--what with them being in a library and all. Pothy also croaks in a happy echo of her greeting. "It's so nice to see you again. I'll explain in a moment."

And Ravenstongue doesn't have to wait long at all. She smiles to see Ashlee and Seyardu, even if the arrival of the Mourner seems to create even wider of a berth between the group and the rest of the crowd. Judging by Pothy occasionally looking around to give students the stink-eye, that might actually be a boon. "I'm so happy to see both of you, too," Ravenstongue says to the newcomers. "Telamon, meet Seyardu--and Ashlee, if you haven't met before." She indicates each party with her hand as she names them.

The sorceress claps her hands together now that introductions are out of the way. "So. I need help finding things. Specifically a spell or a ritual of some kind to safely summon the fae lord I've apparently been bound to since birth. Madame Morgan actually helped me send a message to him, and I received a reply back. It was... unfortunately pretty brief, but at least he said he was willing to wait for me to find more agreeable method of speaking at length and a method that doesn't involve bribing messenger pixies--apparently he is a recluse and does /not/ like talking to other fae--before I go prancing off into the Felwood to be 'claimed'... Whatever that means. I still don't know." Ravenstongue sighs. "So we're searching this library. All the books in it. All the artifacts."

Telamon raises an eyebrow. "The wording is... worrisome. Could mean anything from investing you as some form of... steward, or servant, of the First World, to, well... being married. Which might be exciting but I'm pretty sure you're not interesting in that kind of whirlwind relationship." He tugs at a lock of his hair, looking to Ashlee and Seyardu. "I guess the first step is to find a ritual or calling that would safely bring him in without leaving us vulnerable. Containment. Hmmm... I thought I saw something in the upper stacks on safe conjuring..."

Ashlee holds up her hand in greeting. She has stylized bones tattooed on her hands also. Against her grey skin and grey clothes, she seems very skeletal with a strong shadow.

"I'll look around." She announces, although the first thing she does is take out a cigarillo. This is followed by a look at all the books. It goes back in her satchel.

She starts walking the stacks, trailing her hand along the spines of the books.

"Ah, so we should find a particular ritual that may work. That is interesting they do not like speaking to other fey, how did you find this out?" She asks while collecting herself after sprinting across town to reach the place. "But yes, I do not think it is a good idea to go out directly to meet them unless that is our only option. Thankfully, we have plenty of time to check other ways. Have you spoken to the owner of this library yet? Perhaps there is some insight they can share."

GAME: Telamon rolls spellcraft: (3)+8: 11
GAME: Ashes rolls perception: (8)+4: 12
GAME: Ashes rolls knowledge/arcana: (20)+20: 40
GAME: Ashes rolls spellcraft: (6)+12: 18

Rooting around in the upper stacks takes a while, especially if you don't know exactly what you're looking for and if some student has taken the book out to read and hasn't put it back in the proper place. Telamon would find a human woman with white hair standing... on her tiptoes? ... reading a book with a promising title emblazoned on the cover: 'A Treatise on Conjuring Troublesome Spirits and Creatures'.

Problem is, she's death-gripping the book and seems to also be reading very slowly. Seems that methods must be used for the bird to get the worm.

Meanwhile, for Ashlee: the books are very comfortable for her. It's fairly easy for her to get her head on straight regarding where to go for books on summoning entities and communicating with them. Round some corners and walk down long rows of books, and there's a dusty bookshelf with a blue-bound book by the name of 'The Sildanyar Curuchuil and Fae Bonds: Communing with Quelynos'.

"Well," Ravenstongue says to Seyardu, "I... kind of didn't want to press my luck after the whole thing with Lady Ainasse went down in the courtyard. Quite frankly, I thought they'd tell me to never turn up to the Society again. So I haven't talked to any of the librarians yet."

Well, this is a conundrum. But still, you don't spend time around humans without knowing how to nudge them a bit. So he ambles up with a charming smile on his face, and inquires, "Are you looking to conjure them, or banish them? Important distinction, I would say." He doesn't think much of the prospects of wrestling for the book; it'd be undignified, and besides, he's pretty certain someone here remembers that whole mess with the animated books from the library a while back. No point in begging for trouble.

Ashlee drifts along the bookshelves, encountering the blue-bound one. She halts, takes it off the shelf and opens it up. Her familiar, Chippen, emerges from her sleeve and perches on her thumb where he can read as well. She leafs through it.

It appears to be about something specific to the elves called curuchuil, a collaborative piece of art that bonds the people involved. It is typically passed down through families, but is not exclusive to them, and tends to be linked to strong emotions. The author posits a theory that they are an echo of when the sildanyar were children of the fae themselves and could possibly be used to 'bridge' to Quelynos, where the fae reside--so long as a curuchuil is established between a person on the mortal side and in Quelynos.

She finds an interesting entry. It appears to be about something specific to the elves called curuchuil, a collaborative piece of art that bonds the people involved. It is typically passed down through families, but is not exclusive to them, and tends to be linked to strong emotions.

"There's something here." The Mourner states, returning to the group. "A Curuhcuil."

She lays the book down, pages spread and pointing to a section where the author posits a theory that Curuhcuils are an echo from when the sildanyar were children of the fae themselves. One could possibly be used to 'bridge' to Quelynos, where the fae reside--so long as a curuchuil is established between a person on the mortal side and in Quelynos.

"You do not want to press your luck? I am sure many here have accomplished much worse without being kicked out of the society." Seyardu chuckles. "It is part of being a wizard, and I am sure they would easily understand that you did not intend to do what you did. That being said, I will speak to them instead, if you are concerned."

Seyardu pats the sorcerer on a shoulder, before she goes off to find the owner. She did save one librarian's life before, perhaps they were in communication with each other?

"That is an interesting theory, Ashes, but that would require both parties to agree to it, yes? Yet Ravenstongue is meeting him for the first time. That being said, perhaps there is a way to set it up before hand?"

"Her father might have made one, or the family further back." The ashen Arvec suggests, "as part of the agreement."

She faces the sorceress, then stares at her. Sometimes this gets answers without asking any questions.

The woman Telamon has encountered with the book that he wants continues to stand on her tiptoes and flips a page. She slowly... slowly... slowly turns to look at Telamon with glassy, dark eyes. Her voice is deep and monotone as she says, "I want to become one. One of them. One of them. One of them."

She giggles a little, but it's a hollow laugh, somehow all the joy sucked out of it. "But this book doesn't tell me how. Can you find me one that does, and I will give this book to you in turn?"

Ashlee, Seyardu, and Ravenstongue are blissfully /not/ having to deal with strange women. Ravenstongue looks thoughtful as Ashlee presents the book. "That is interesting," she says. "That... woman, Ainasse, said that there was a longstanding deal between the Feathered One and my father's family. If curuchuil are magic bonding pieces of art passed down from families... I wonder if the Feathered One is involved with that."

When Seyardu goes to find the owner, however, she comes across a rather curious sight: an elvish man with long red hair and very fine blue silk robes having a bit of a row with a librarian.

"What do you /mean/, I can't take books out of the library?" the elven man asks, quite irritated. "Do you know who my /wife/ is?"

"Sir, I do not know who your wife is," the librarian responds. "My job is to ensure no books leave the library. It is that simple."

GAME: Telamon rolls Spellcraft: (9)+8: 17

Seyardu does come across the owner, or who appears to be the owner, and she sighs, before settling herself and walking forward. "Peace on your nest." She greets, turning to the other for a moment. "I am sure your wife is a good person, but the rules of the library must be respected. If you really must take something from the library, you may transcribe a copy of pertinent information for your own use at one of the many desks around here."

Telamon's eyebrows try to climb into his hairline, as he nods slowly. "Sure, ma'am." He gives her a dazzling smile. "I'll be right on that." He immediately begins sorting through some of the other volumes before he finds what he's looking for -- he found this treatise while looking at books on the effects of sorcerous bloodlines. He pulls the book, 'Fae-rly Certain On Becoming Fae' off the shelf, makes a face, but then walks back to the woman and smiles again. "Is this what you're looking for, ma'am?" he inquires.

"Maybe your step-mom has the art." Ashlee suggests. She looks at the two conflicts, the noble who wants exceptions and the woman who wants to be exception. "I'll see if I can find something else."

She wanders off to once more drag her fingers over book spines, see if anything leaps out at her. From some of the rumours she's heard about this library, things might.

Much like a ghost, she drifts the dead pages.

The strange woman regards Telamon with another moment of that eerie, glassy gaze before she smiles with all of her... Oh god. Spiked teeth. Spiked like shark's teeth. "Yee-eeees. That is wonderful. Thank you, dear man, sweet man, thank you." She snatches Telamon's offered book and gives him the book he wanted before she suddenly and quickly walks off, giggling to herself all the way.

The books seem to speak to Ashlee in that strange way that only they can--not with words but with the soft indication, somehow, in their leather covers, that she's going in the right direction, that she's going to find what she's looking for so long as she keeps her fingers on their spines. Down, down, down the row... And she finds a slim black volume. It reads, 'Rites of the Fae as Told in Prose and Song' on the cover in embossed letters that have begun to wear from time.

The man wheels around with an aggravated sigh at Seyardu. "I haven't the time nor the energy! Those blasted birds keep following me around and my wife insists she needs to bring home a book from here! She's not allowed here anymore on account of inane reasoning--but nothing that a generous donation can't solve."

His eyes are violet, and his face has the cheekbones that are also on a half-elf sorcerer not far away.

GAME: Ashes rolls spellcraft: (20)+12: 32

Most of the short stories and poems in the book are accompanied by little charms and spells to summon lesser fey. There is, however, one short story in the book: "The Lonely Lord," appearing to be about an elf woman who leaves her village in the woods to confront the local fae lord, whose ravens and owls have been alarming the villagers. She learns that the birds have been making a racket on account of the lord being lonely for the first time in many years, and so she offers to be his friend and teach him what friendship is. At the end of the story, they fall in love and live happily ever after... But whatever spell was supposed to accompany it has been ripped out on the next page.

"If you have neither the time nor the energy, yet think that a generous donation would solve matters, then I would highly suggest hiring one of the many scholars here to transcribe and deliver it for you, as I am sure that many would be happy to do so. Learning magic is not inexpensive, after all." Seyardu continues to state, one brow raising just slightly. "But if you think that status or thinly veiled bribery is the course of action to take to get what you want, then you will find yourself quite disappointed in coming here. If she was banned here after all, is that not more reason for the rules to be enforced as they are?"

Telamon comes back downstairs... that was less that pleasant. Hopefully she doesn't turn into a shark or something. Are there shark fae?

Telamon decides to jettison that line of thought for now. As he approaches Raven, he overhears the other man ranting about birds, and slows. "Ah... good sir, can you hold that thought, just for a moment?" And immediately Telamon moves over fast to where he left Ravenstongue. "This is more of a guide than a codified ritual," he says to her, "but you might want to know there's a gentleman here complaining about birds following his wife around... did this fae lord say he was starting a collection or something?"

The book Telamon found was 'A Treatise on Conjuring Troublesome Spirits and Creatures'. It contains a rough blueprint for summoning fae.

Morgan comes walking down the stairs that lead to the library, perched on her head is a little dragon "Yes I find it insulting that you are calling me a taxi service." said with a chuckle as it flys off to its owner some where else in the room. She notices others in the room and wonders over to hear better what is being said.

This is nice. Ashes enjoys her silent browsing. Chippen has relocated to her head, digging down into her hair like a bangle. He watches as she drifts, letting the books lead her to a slim black volume.

She gently takes it from the shelves. She has monster fingers, of course, but she's not a monster to books. She opens it, reads. One of her big goblinoid ears flickers as she hears complaints about owls, ravens, which sound familiar. A voice, that doesn't, but a situation which does also.

She drifts towards the commotion. The one about birds, not the one about fey. She halts near the man. Despite her self-image, which is very small, the Mourner is actually quite tall and solid for a cleric. Monster vigor.

She turns a skull-face towards the man, "Your daughter needs you. Over here."

Message delivered, she returns to Ravenstongue, hopefully with someone in tow. If not, at least with a book full of interesting rituals.

Did someone say 'status and thinly-veiled bribery?' As if summoned by those magic words, Jinks creeps out of a side room marked 'INTAKE & RESTORATION' and carefully latching the door behind him. His form shifts, half-blurred and shimmering for the briefest moment as the illusions conjured by his kit shift and settle. He turns away from the door with that 'criminally pleased with himself' smile plastered across his face.

The cavorting coyote pin is still sitting in for his jeweled brooch and thin chains dangled between his nose and ear piercings. He puckers his lips, quirking a brow and looking quite intrigued at the hubbub. Don't people know you're supposed to be quiet in librabries?

The gnome glides his way through the stacks looking for the source of commotion. "Oh, hello tallman," he greets Ashlee with his winningest smile, correcting himself "Mourner." Then, not quite liking the sound of that, a third attempt; "Mourner-tallman."

The color drains from Ravenstongue's face as she hears Telamon's words. She looks quickly to the book in Telamon's hands and says, "Oh gods. No, no, no, I don't--"

Much to the relief of the poor librarian, who looks over to her fellow library worker in Morgan and mouths something along the lines of: 'that man's a shithead' to her, the man stops right in his tracks as Ashlee says 'your daughter.' He gives a little huff, straightens out his flowing red locks, and then strides behind Ashlee to follow the Mourner to...

"Cor'lana." The man's words are weighted, almost deadly in their heavy load. His violet eyes stare into hers--mirrors in that they were identical. "You need my /help/, apparently."

Ravenstongue's bottom lip wobbles for a moment. She shakes her head, and then buries her face into her hands.

The tension could be cut like a knife.

Morgan sighs as she walks closer to Raven "May I help you Raven." said in a strong tone as a Librarian would to keep people quiet. She stands there hoping things will calm down.

Telamon pauses, glancing back and forth. Wait, is he... oh. Crap. He heaves a sigh, and straightens up a bit, before turning to fix the older man with what his own father called, 'second order hard stare'. "If you are here to -help-, good. I hope you are not here to waste her time." He's inwardly VERY glad that there are several other friends of Raven here. Maybe Mr. Jinks could be convinced to give the fellow an accident if he's too much of a hassle? Nothing permanent, of course...

"Mourner. Or Ashlee." The ashen Arvec corrects Jinks, speaking in a flat monotone that is not apologetic or coercive in any fashion, as introductions seem to be being exchanged. Her skull face turns towards the man. She stares.

This is her main talent.

"I'm Mourner Ashlee Ciaradh." She states, struck by the sudden awareness. She's in public, amongst strangers. Mostly strangers. She should say something casual, topical, to ingratiate herself and break the ice. She carefully considers her options.

Ah yes, "Have you prepared a will?"

It makes the post-death experience much easier on the survivors.

The man was going, but now was no time for Seyardu to speak to the librarian. "I am a cleric I will have you know, so if you need any restoration magics for your, dangling bits, then I can offer what help I can. Though regeneration magics are still beyond me, if it has truly fallen off." She states to them before they are taking off. She had her suspicions of who it was, but they were confirmed. Shortly after, she joins the others. As if by another que, the source of her suggestion is there as well. "Peace on your nest, Jinks." She greets, before she watches the others. "There may be help that you can provide, yes."

Ravenstongue just leans into Morgan, wilting into her friend. It's a wordless act but it speaks volumes: she wants to be supported. She still doesn't remove her hands from her face--for the moment, that is. But not a sound is leaving her.

The elf man identified as Ravenstongue's father furnishes an embroidered handkerchief, featuring an initial 'G' in gold thread, as he wipes the sweat off his brow. His violet eyes flick over to the Mourner in confusion--and doubly so to Seyardu. "I have an idea of what both of you are implying and I don't like the tone of it," he says. "But if you must know, I am Glórenacil Lúpecyll. My friends call me Glór--and you are welcome to call me that too. Yes, I have a will prepared. You don't marry into a house like my wife's without one. And no, I am very pleased to report I am intact despite the threats made to my wife. As for help I can provide--I can tell you that it would be easiest, for /all of us/, for Cor'lana to simply accept the Feathered One's demands. The damned creature has been harassing my wife and I since two weeks ago and he's threatened to eat me too if I don't do something about it!"

Telamon's expression takes on a quality that might be best described as frozen. His fingers twitch, reflexively, and for a long couple of moments he says nothing. Finally, he speaks, his voice a bit rough. "You know, this COULD be construed as attempting to sell someone unwillingly into slavery." He clenches his jaw, before continuing, "Didn't expect it would come from her own father." His fingers are twitching again, like he really wants to wrap them around someone's neck.

"Gló..." Ashlee attempts, then stops. She has fangs, or tusks, little ones. They're cute. They also get in the way. She won't be able to pronounce that, not without a terrible accent. Best not to embarrass herself.

A lizard climbs out of the collar of her shirt. It, he actually, seems about to head down her front. She catches him, and clips him to her ear. The white lizard dangles, legs splayed.

"Elves think differently," the hobgoblin suggests, turning to stare Glórenacil, "Did you mate a human so you'd have disposable offspring?"

Jinks makes that 'oh' face as he comes up to speed after lagging briefly behind. His smiles threatens to touch his ears but he takes a moment to contain it, smoothing down his goatee in the interim with thumb and forefinger. It takes some effort but he doesn't laugh.

"Easiest thing in the world is to not get out of bed in the morning. It's easy to sit back and let Charn roll into this little city, execute the governing family, and plop their little flag down on top the castle." The gnome might be worrying about other things in his idle hours these days. "Easy can be nice, certainly, but it's not always the way you want to go...

"And family is almost always never easy." He glances east out the corner of his eye for just a heartbeat and then taps at his temple. "Why not help us? Maybe we help you." He steps back, gesturing with both hands to take in the assembled crew. "Coyote, Telmentar, the Harpist, and Goddess Dreaming? That's quite a pantheon working to vex some minor, ornery, nobody of fae nobility. Mulria's sideways smile, man, if you fold this easily I'd love to have you opposite me at a Golem table."

"I believe this is something referred to as the consequences of one and their actions. I understand that nobles are not used to them, but they are still around, on occasion." Seyardu notes, allowing herself to glare at the man. "That you answer so readily to give her away makes it clear very little was learned from the previous encounter with your wife."

"You can help us, but only because resolving this problem will be a lucky coincidence that it will benefit you."

"I did not besot a random human woman with a child," Glórenacil says, offended at Ashlee's notion. "I loved Nadina and I loved Ainasse--but certain circumstances prevented me from being with her. No one knows when the Feathered One will make his edict, as he does it every few hundred years, and I thought I didn't have to worry about it. I thought that my own firstborn would. But it came sooner than anticipated--and when Nadina saw me begin the curuchuil rite on Cor'lana, she attacked me and stole the child. Call me a liar, and I understand why you would, but I never wanted to sacrifice any child of mine. Our family's legacy has been sacrifice, of servitude to this entity that takes sons and daughters and none of us ever see them again. My grandfather's older brother was taken as a babe and the hole it left in his heart was... immense. But none of us have ever wanted to deal with the consequences. The Feathered One has been begging me for years to find /you/, Cor'lana." He finally addresses Ravenstongue directly before he sighs and wipes his brow again.

"We have been giving children to him for so long that our family has forgotten why. I just... want a normal life. But I understand you can't just give up on yours. I will answer any questions you have regarding our family's curse--you, and your friends'." Glórenacil seems to have deflated like a balloon, losing all of the pomp and arrogance within him.

Ravenstongue looks to the others. "Well... What did we find so far on our own? I think we can figure out a solution now."

Telamon has heard enough, and leaves.

"I found this." Ashlee announces in quiet, flat words. She sets a slim black volume on the table. Gently slides her finger down the edge, opening it. "It's a book of poems."

It is.

Mostly short stories and poems. Almost every one is accompanied by little charms and spells to summon lesser fey. There is, however, one short story in the book that the Mourner noticed. She flips to it: 'The Lonely Lord.' It is about an elf woman who leaves her village in the woods to confront the local fae lord. A lord whose ravens and owls have been alarming the villagers. She discovers that the birds have been making a racket on account of the lord being lonely for the first time in many years. Thus, she offers to be his friend and teach him what friendship is. At the end of the story, they fall in love and live happily ever after...

Except the last page has been ripped out. Whatever spell was supposed to accompany the story is gone. The Mourner looks at the Elf, "Did you take the page?"

Jinks' grin dips the smallest amount at the presentation of the book. It's a library, sure, but time spent pouring over books ranks pretty low on his 'fun things to do' scale. "Is there a record of who's read through the books before? Or magics to reproduce the missing page?" The gnome pulls out a longer-legged chair meant for the shorter races and half-climbs into it to sit for a spell. He leans back and adjusts the cuffs of his shirt, then unbuttons the topmost button of his coat. When a yawn threatens to escape he covers his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Somehow that is hard to believe with how your first response was to say how this would all be easier if she went to him." Seyardu sighs. "Yet, yes, this ritual you speak of may be of use. If you have the art needed, we could make use of it, if you do not need to take part."

Why was it that both of them deflated like such under pressure? Perhaps it was what brought husband and wife together. "I can speak to the librarian, I am sure she takes the state of her books seriously. And I may be able to use that tome to scry for the missing page if necessary, but I am not prepared to do such today."

"Page?" Glórenacil skims the story, his violet eyes widening as he seems to recognize something in the text. He fishes out a folded piece of paper from within his coat. "My wife said she found this while researching here--before, well, you know," he says, clearing his throat. "She thought it was curious that there was a copy of my family's curuchuil rite in the library in a little book of poems and stories--but I assure you, she copied it down rather than tearing out the page. Our family's curuchuil is different than most--because it is only given to every firstborn in the family. It is a link of our love for each other--and our legacy, and the burden that we bear."

Glórenacil pulls down his robes to reveal his rather unmuscular chest. There, over his heart, is the mark of a feather. "Cor'lana was supposed to receive this. It was not finished when she was a babe, which is why she is not linked to him. If the curuchuil is done, she--you--" he says, looking directly at Ravenstongue now, "will be able to summon him with a rite, perhaps like one detailed in your friend's book there, and you will either break our family's legacy and reap what I imagine to be your own bloody end, or possibly... Negotiate something with him. If you are able and you are cunning enough, that is." The book he is indicating is in Telamon's arms.

Normally it'd be very difficult to summon someone like the Feathered One. Yet, if Ravenstongue gets the curuchuil done, they can just cast a regular fae summoning rite to get him to appear. The rough blueprint in the book Telamon found would make a good guide.

Jinks makes a thoughtful noise and cocks his head when the tattoo is put on display. He scratches idly at his own chest and then bobs his head in thoughtful consideration. "Curious if the Weave can be fooled and something else bound to the creature in facilitating the rite... leave the girl unfettered." He glances at Ashes and Seyardu, then at the more academic types arrayed around the table. "A corpse... or a leg of lamb."

"I'm not a corpse." Ashlee says flatly. She's also not a leg of lamb, which she feels she shouldn't have to correct. She does have an urge to scratch her thigh though.

"No, obviously not." Jinks responds quickly, waving a hand. "I just thought you might know where we could get one."

The Mourner nods slowly. "I do." She shares a piece of advice that was drilled into her from day one. "No matter how good an idea it seems, if it involves decorating a corpse, it isn't."

"There may be something to the ritual preventing that." Seyardu notes. "After all, it requires agreement from both sides, does it not? I do not think that the fey in question would agree to being joined to a piece of sheep meat. I think we should look into the missing page, as it being more directly tied to something similar is probably best. But if it comes to that, we can consider the alternative. But only if Ravenstongue agrees to it, and I will not have you pressuring her to do so whatsoever."

Ravenstongue has finally removed the fingers from her face. Her eyes are puffy and red, her cheeks stained with tears, and her lips red from having bitten them to keep a sound from peeping out of her. "If the curuchuil means I have a chance to negotiate with the Feathered One, I'll do it," she says. She walks forward and she snatches the piece of paper from her father.

Then her face twists in anger for a moment as she smacks Glórenacil across the face. The man yelps and puts a hand to his cheek. "I suppose better from you than that bird--and if you have that bird, that means Nadina is..." He shakes his head. "I won't trouble you any longer. Farewell, Cor'lana."

The man walks off and out of the library. Ravenstongue immediately looks exhausted, but she looks to everyone. "Not tonight. But I'd like to prepare everything we need and we'll do this curuchuil--and the summoning. I'd like all of you there for it. If you're willing."

"Ok." Ashlee says simply. There is a glance at the gnome, a silent and solemn look, before she nods to the sorceress. She attempts to think of something encouraging, uplifting, safe... to say.

There are seven words. No... those don't work.

Silence. Silence is best. She nods and then stares, this will indicate her agreement and undivided attention. A skull face, focused on Ravenstongue, until she moves away.

Jinks takes his hand away from his chest, inspecting his fingernails briefly before rubbing his fingertips together as if to loose debris. "Well. I will say from my own personal experience..."

There's a long pause here, the gnome folding his arm and drawing in a deep breath. It almost seems like he won't speak further-- but then he does. "Binding yourself to another creature like this... make sure it's your last and only option. Consider and accept the worst thing that could possibly happen and understand that it-- or something worse-- is almost certainly going to." It's not the normal sort of bolstering speech one might expect from the glittering dandy. His mood is also unusually serious.

"And summonings... well," he just glances at Ashlee and shrugs.

"But I'll help if I'm not otherwise engaged."

"A pat on the shoulder works if you can not think of what to say." Seyardu suggests, moving to do just that to Ravenstongue. "We will figure this out, yes. Ideally without the tattoo. Jinks speaks true, a pact like that is not to be taken lightly, especially since we know so little about them. But it will be sorted."

Except, the Mourner knows it doesn't.

There, There. Everything will be ok.

OOC

<OOC> Ravenstongue says, "Chippen wants to read too, omg my heart"
<OOC> Paenitia says, "heehee :)"