Difference between revisions of "Where You Are"
Aftershock (talk | contribs) (Created page with "It's late, or it feels late? It feels like weeks have passed since you left The Round Table in order to find the girl Phyrelia. You call in for food and the proprietor gives you a funny look. Informs you that you've been gone three days and you'll need to pay for the room again. This is done easily enough, but it leaves you feeling unsettled. You order a meal, and specifically order fish for the golden dragon flying about the room. She lands neatly on the dish of fish an...") |
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Latest revision as of 22:09, 14 June 2023
It's late, or it feels late? It feels like weeks have passed since you left The Round Table in order to find the girl Phyrelia. You call in for food and the proprietor gives you a funny look. Informs you that you've been gone three days and you'll need to pay for the room again. This is done easily enough, but it leaves you feeling unsettled. You order a meal, and specifically order fish for the golden dragon flying about the room. She lands neatly on the dish of fish and starts eating like it's the first meal she's ever been given. It's gone in seconds and she curls up on the plate in a self-satisfied manner.
Phyrelia settles into one of the corners, and seems to be watching Verna intently. Really all of you, but Verna gets the majority of her attention. She doesn't eat anything, and doesn't seem hungry. Instead she subsists off a glass of water and watching you all.
Telamon feels worn down. Slouched into a chair, the half-elf cradles a glass of wine in his hands, his dark eyes flick to Verna as well. A cautious stare, as Tel reaches over to lightly stroke Tanith's back once the dragon's done wolfing down her meal.
A long sip from his glass, before Telamon softly clears his throat. "Alright..." He looks at the others. "I guess we start with 'the avatar of Eluna'. And how we start resolving things."
Dolan has taken it on himself to see to the arrangements with the proprietor, as he has done before. Something deep within hims is not wholly surprised to learn of the length of their absence - every time he thinks things can't get weirder, they do, and by this time, he is beginning to feel as though nothing can surprise him.
One he is back, though, he removes sword and harness from his back, grasping both by the leather restraint that holds blade in its sheath, and takes up a position between Andelea and Phyrelia. He's quiet, and isn't eating, either.
Andelena looks... Well, she's here. That's a start. Like her man, she's not eating a thing, but she does look up at Telamon and nods. "Yeah. Sounds like a start. You mind answering that, Phy?" she asks, giving the young girl that's not a young girl a little smile. Can't help it--if it looks like a kid, they're getting the Sunguard's 'cool aunt' act.
Lysos has had some time to 'settle down.' Possibly thanks in no small part due to the wine. She isn't three sheets to the wind, or even all that tipsy. But the shock and terror has been numbed. And it has made it easier to not think about the strange time lapse. Another benefit is that this has given her time to actually get a decent look at the golden dragonet. "She really is quite marvelous," she says quietly before falling silent again as business comes in session. "Hey. Where's that other person?"
Verna would also be qualified as present. More than that is less certain, perhaps. The scale and bloody ring are absently slipped into a pocket. As for the finger, that shall wait. She settles heavily (for her lack of mass) into a seat several strides from the others. For one often so verbose, she is quite silent.
"To say I know exactly where the avatar is... Well it's safer to say I know inexactly where she is. I know that the place is in the Desolation. I know it is in a place where you can see the Everstorm. I know that there are flowers growing there - black and blue ones." Phyrelia hesitates and then makes a motion with her hand. "Does anyone have drawing materials? I can see it, but explaining where a place is when there's so little around is difficult."
Tanith purrs contentedly. "Nottouching." She mumbles. A reply to something? Hard to say.
Telamon's eyebrows shoot up. "Black and blue flowers? Roses, perhaps?" He glances at Dolan and Andelena. "Sounds familiar, hm?" He begins rummaging in his haversack, looking for something to write with. After a moment, he comes up with some blank scroll-paper, an inkpen, and a tightly stoppered ink bottle. "I really need to clean this thing out," he remarks, pulling out a bottle of alchemical grease and a compass as well, before putting them back.
Andelena looks... a bit too proud of herself. She pulls out a small box of crayons from a pouch on her belt and holds it out to Phyrelia. "I usually have this on hand if I need to talk to a child about something, y'know, job-related," she says, gesturing vaguely to her white cloak. One has to wonder exactly how many times Andelena's found herself talking to kids to dispense Daeus's justice.
She looks back to Telamon and nods. "Yeah, that's a recurring theme. Black and blue. It at least lets us know we're on the right track."
Verna blinks out of her musing stupor and looks to Phyrelia. "I have seen these flowers. In dreams... " a frown, " nightmares. I did not realize they were in the Desolation."
"Strange things going on out there," Lysos offers after swallowing the last of hers with a gulp. "I was out there not long ago. Funny things happening with Time. Like... when a river flows into a pool and it circles around before continuing on. We almost got killed in some kind of demon war."
Dolan, too, reacts at the mention of blue and black roses, straightening. "Yes. Black roses are symbols of war between demons, in the hells. Battlefields of them cover the Iron Hells. Be carefully, too, they bite. The blue roses are Althea's. She's tryin to help, protect her daughter, but she's getting choked out. If Her avatar is being surrounded by the roses, we better get her, like now."
The girl accepts the tools at hand, almost smiling at the crayons and then getting to work on her picture. One can tell almost immediately that this is not going to be the labor of a few seconds, but rather some time. "She's asleep. In a... death-like slumber." She explains while she draws. "The fall made a depression in the earth, and the flowers surround it. They black roses are trying to get inside, but they can't because of the blue roses... but..." She looks up.
"That won't last forever." She at last turns her picture toward the group. An image there as she described it but far more lifelike. Her skill in drawing is obvious from the strokes of the ink and the quickly-colored roses. The black ones look horribly ominous, encroaching on the edge of the crater that you can not see within. Yet such a location should not be difficult to find if one can teleport there.
Telamon knocks back his glass of wine in a single pull, setting it on the table. "Alright. We need to get there." His eyes flick to Verna again. "I know I said you should go to the temples. The problem is that Dolan's right. Time is of the essence." Glancing at the others. "I have a few tricks, but... I can't get us there. Not as fast as we need."
"Well, I can't teleport, either," Andelena says, although it's followed up by a bit of a smirk. "I can swing a sword all day long, but I can't poof and go from point A to point B. It's just not the way it goes. Even if Bry says I'm pretty magical sometimes."
She looks over at Verna. "Is that something you could help us with, Mourner?--Or you, golden one," she adds, looking at Tanith again--though there's a moment where that smirk takes on a wider grin as she observes the happy dragon after a fish meal.
And there it is. The other shoe so to speak. Perhaps expecting it, Lysos doesn't seem awfully surprised. "No rest for the wicked.." she mutters, eyeing what remains of the bottle. "Going to need supplies for this one.." she says louder. "Some misdirection magics might help."
"Yeah. Verna's got time to go to the temples." Dolan has not let go of the blade. "We've got to resupply and prepare for a long journey. Tanith, do you think you can take us there? It's a pretty big risk if only one of us can teleport, though. What do we do if something happens to that one person? It's a long trip back."
Tanith perks her head up, looking exhaustedly at you. She looks like a cat after a big meal. Self-satisfied and lazy. "Touching?" She asks. None of you are so she puts her head back down. "I can help. After-nap."
Phyrelia looks at Dolan. "Verna does not need to go to a temple. She is..." She looks at Verna. "Changed, but in no way that will be easily fixed by the priests there. Do you feel it yet?"
Verna looks to Andelena at her inquiry. "I could transport us to the Desolation, yes. Without a precise destination, we would still need to locate the objective." As to Dolan's comment, her lips firm. "I am in control, there is no ... struggle." She passingly considers she might have been cured, but that was supposedly done some time past by the temple. "I am-" she then pauses cold at Phyrelia's comment. A brow arches. "Feel what, exactly?"
Telamon gets to his feet. "No time for a wyvern wrap, I suppose," he says with wry regret. "But probably time to top off the waterskin and grab anything we need." He glances down at Tanith in amusement. "Why don't you ride on my shoulders, little lass? I'll try not to jostle you too much."
He furrows his brow at Phyrelia's rather enigmatic comment. "That was not exactly helpful. Changed? You speak as if it was more than just lycanthropy."
"Yeah, what happened to the Mourner? That ring or whatever we found her in looked... weird," Andelena comments, looking over to Verna too, like she can magically find the answer in looking at Verna's face. But it's not so easy, even if the eyes are the windows to the soul. "Do you remember anything after... you know, shifting?"
"Grams used to talk about the curse of the loogaroo," Lysos offers, seeming simply happy that the mourner is no longer all fur and fang. Not that the image of that burned into her mind is likely ever to fade. "Maybe it has something to do with Quelnyos? Or... that... uh... woman?"
Dolan does not actually say anything, but his stance has subtly shifted, to balance itself between the balls and the heels of his feet, and he, too, watches Verna.
The girl smiles a sort of secretive smile. "You will feel it soon. The urge to laugh where usually you would smile. The urge to cry where you would normally frown. The fae have welcomed you to their bosom Verna; you are one of them." This somewhat cryptic answer is punctuated by Tanith lifting her head and crawling lazily to Telamon.
"Peoples yes. Good." She latches onto his hand, then starts nimbly but slowly crawling up his arm to his shoulder. She snuggles up there and hums. She's quite warm. "Let know when go." She huffs and closes her golden eyes.
Telamon's eyebrows rise up again, and he mumbles, "Oh dear." It's less a tone of dread, and more sounding like a man who's just discovered he has a heretofore unknown relative who comes with a stack of complications. "Ah... perhaps we can discuss this at a later time, ladies? So long as Verna isn't going to be a danger to herself, or those of us with her, I think we can safely table that for future discussion."
Supporting Tanith on his shoulder, he quietly adds, "But if it helps, I deal with this sort of thing regularly with Lana."
Andelena looks more than a little disquieted as she looks at Verna--and then at Telamon. "Is, uh. Is that a thing? A thing that can happen? Is it... contagious?" She looks mildly stressed as she looks over at Dolan.
"Ain't nothing gonna surprise me at this point, baby." Dolan hasn't moved, but his stance relaxes, just a little bit. "It's probably what the king of the sluagh meant. Like with Phyrelia, it's up to her what she wants to do. Long as she isn't going to hurt anyone, it's her business." He shrugs expressively, his face remaining turned towards Verna. "What do you want to do, Mourner?"
Lysos pushes to her feet. She's... steady. "Probably not contagious. The faerie seem kind of picky. Which.." Lysos adds, reflectively, "is a good thing, I think."
Verna blinks at this revelation. Had she stated that Verna was about to sprout a tail, she would not have been so surprised (possibly as she did not too long past). "I..." she pauses again and turns to answer Andie's prior question, instead. "There was rage. Fear. Hunger." Her expression shifts with each: scowl, concern, and ...concerning scowl(?). A moment to shake her head slightly.
"As I noted, whatever else, I am in control. If time is critical, we must go." She rises, the scowl setting determinedly. "I will not cause further delays on my account." Four fingers gesture to Telamon. "It will be addressed after." Her scowl softens markedly into a warm smile. "Auranar is overdue new cutlery and cookware, besides. Perhaps a set of silver and cold iron."
"Indeed. It is not a disease or curse. It is... a blessing. A state of being." The girl shakes her head and passes the drawing over to Verna. "This is where we need go. Best that the person most likely taking you has it I assume. I... Will not be going with you. The risk is too great. However you should arm yourselves readily. The agents of the dark god hunting her will be coming soon. Some of them are likely already there but unable to breach the flowers."
"Okay, good. I don't really want to get infected by fey... bullshit," Andelena says, helplessly searching for a word that perhaps sums it all up the best. But she sighs and says, "Okay. But we should probably take a night or two to recover, right? Bright and early, we go? No sense running ragged. We prepare, we get our shit screwed on straight, we drink, we hug our friends and loves close, and then we leave. All in favor?"
Telamon shakes his head at Andelena. "It's... like sunburn. She'll get more emotional, but... I would need to do some research. The fey can be..." He pauses, looking for his own word. "...possessive. Even when it's spectacularly inappropriate. Hence why you try to keep them at arm's length if you can." He rubs his chin. "Which, I admit, I've done a terrible job of myself, but then again, I'm not very wise either."
Tel squares his shoulders. "Agreed. Get what you need done, done. Now's a good time to borrow money; they'll have a vested interest in you coming back to repay it."
Lysos raises her hand in agreement with Andelena. "Time to ponder on the life choices that led us here." And wonder why she hasn't been asked to stay behind yet. "Two days? Bright and early?"
"Aye," Verna is quick to lift a hand at Andelena's proposal as she accepts the drawing from the girl with the other. "Some preparation is wise, if not necessary." Delays on others' behalf do not invalidate her prior statement, and she has every intention of performing a few of Andie's suggestions. She does, however, offer a curt, scoffing half-laugh at Telamon's (and perhaps by association, the girl's) notes of her alleged condition. "I have been told that I am not one to display excessive emotion."
Dolan, rather than responding verbally, just nods his assent, and steps away from Phyrelia, carrying his sword back to where he'd left his weapons and gear. Clearly, he's already preparing, and kneels down to rummage in his pack, to examine their contents.
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