Aryiadynamic

Log Info

• Title: Aryiadynamic
• Emitter: Aryia
• Characters: Aryia, Seyardu, Braelnoir, Un'eth, Culix, Randolf
• Place: Collosseum District / TarRaCe
• Time: October 7th, 2021
• Summary:

Colosseum District. Midday.

The crowds are thrumming this time of day. Weekly tournaments are back on schedule, and there's been no shortage of contenders for show. Though today was one for training and resting, the Colossum itself open to the public for training, so many a fights and warriors meander the streets, gorging themselves on food or conversing amongst themselves.

The day is fair, like the clouds that dot the sky, the moon visible. A bit chilly, but not biting.

But what breaks such a normal day (is it ever normal here?) is scattered after images of a figure sailing through the air, flailing their arms. And suddenly crashing sideways into a chimney some forty or so feet up with a nasty crunch. They rebound off of it it, dust and debris trailing after them and ending their speedy flight as they impact and skid along a small side street, coming to a stop with their face to the ground, left arm twisted in an unnatural, painful way.

One minute ago

Aryia stands off to the side in the Colosseum, her stance firm and her eyes focused on a spot not but twenty feet away.

Okay. Let's try again. Let the memory flood you. Remember her face, the curves, the violet eyes, the braided hair, the rare beaming grin. A warm smile spreads across her visage.

Then a puff of shadow. She's gone. It's dark. Empty. The smile flickers to sadness.

There's lights somewhere, searching. For her? Me? You have to get to her. Her sadness smooths out to a pinpoint focus, and her foot raises.

Now

Aryia groans in pain. "... f-ck..."

A small crowd starts to gather.

Seyardu was making her way out of the Tarrace, looking refreshed after a warm meal and a bath, when she saw something go sailing through the air. This makes the the silverscale squint.

"Do you have any idea what that was, Aryia?" she asks idly when she notices the scent of her friend nearby. Only, a glance around the area does not reveal them. She looks up and sniffs, following the trajectory with her nose for a moment before she is sprinting off to where the gathering crowd is.

"Aryia, are you alright? I am a healer from the temple of Althea, please stand back." She says to everyone present, muscling her way through the crowd.

In the wings, as it were, emerging from the Collosseum shrouded in a full length cloak and robes, Brae finds herself mildly distracted from her current dillemae.

Then comes the flurry of movement overhead, and the suddenly gathering crowd, she moves that way, particular after seeing a glimmer of silver and hearing Seyardu's voice.

Being of a certain balance of size and strength compared to many of the locals, the incognito mercenary manages to winnow her way thrugh to see what all the hubub's about.

Blink.

Quite the opposite of excitement, crowds, f-ck, or hubub, another passerby enters the district. A rough, simple, yet sturdy cart attached to a donkey that is... also rough, simple, and sturdy. A sizable specimen, even, which is helpful as the cart is filled with heavy collection of broken stone, splintered wood, and other construction-related debris. It could be the rider or driver that is the weakest link, as such isn't present.

The crowd easily parts, not becoming too dense as errant anomalies were somewhat the norm being near such proving grounds. But still, it is not every day something like this happens. Did the mul'neissa mouth off to someone and Angorn's/Kor's might infuse someone and bat them out of the arena? Did they lose a bet? Did they do something stupid?

Probably the latter. Absolutely the latter.

Aryia's bad arm twitches, the pain having not caught up with her yet as she gasps from a sharp sensation. She looks up from the ground, skin scraped in places and her shades askew. Thankfully, they survived such idiocrasy.

A hand raises. "... hey Seyardu... I... kind of fucked up..." it trembles, her face slowly paling. <Handspeech>

Seyardu sniffs at the air. She looks around and sees the hooded figure, and she waves them over. "This is a someone I trust, Aryia." She explains quickly, already moving the arm back into position. She smelled heavily of wildflowers, perhaps only a surprise to the korite. "Peace on your nest, Aryia. Fuck up or not, you will be fine."

She gestures Braelnoir closer. "I am going to use some healing magic, and they will hold your arm in place for it. It may hurt for now, but will be much better after."

GAME: Seyardu rolls heal: (2)+8: 10

Kor probably gets him a good giggle when someone gets launched off the field, to be fair.

The cloaked human frowns, slipping out of the crowd to the Mul'niessa's opposite side, "'ey luvvie, take't easy now. Went an gotch'self a busted wing, there."

Brae smiles to the two from within the hood as Seyardu vouches for her and draws her seax, holding the hilt near the silent woman's mouth, "This's gonna hurt, luvvie, best ya bite down on this. It helps."

The unguided donkey cart is a novelty, and she absently wonders if her brother's returned, but, for now, she helps with the silverscale's treatment regimine.

GAME: Braelnoir rolls heal+2: (2)+3+2: 7

The clopping of hooves slow at the gathering, the partial parting of it at the arrival of others, and even the arrival of said others. The cart may be driven by a big ass, but one that is at least courteous enough to shift to the side of the roadway before stopping to rubberneck at the situation.

There's a flicker of a smile as Braelnoir comes into view that washes away as the pain begin to steadily set in and grow. Slowly becoming haggard breathing is cut off as Aryia nudges her head forward and bites down on the handle of the seax. "Wouldn't be... the first... broken bone..." her free hand shakily motions, her moving slowly to lay supine on her back. She gasps lightly as stars dance across her vision, and not the good kind of the night sky.

The crowd shifts and changes, some stopping by to see what is going on, notices it a downed fighter/just a mul'neissa, and they move on.

First aid preparations in place, an experienced healer and mercenary on hand. This should be a snap.

... poor wording.

>Crunch.<

Aryia's grey skin turns snow white as her eyes roll to the back of her head and goes limp against the ground, the small knife handle placed in her mouth slipping free to clatter on the cobble as deep bite marks emboss the wood.

That's probably going to be in a sling for a while. <Handspeech>

Seyardu was in the process of setting the bone. She looks up and over to Braelnoir, and nods. "It will hurt, but it is necessary." Seyardu agrees. finally, she begins moving everything into place-

Only to find Aryia passing out as the setting cause another bone in her arm to slip out of place. It had looked fine at first glance, but was broken too.

"That is, please hold it steady." Seyardu advises as she steps to one side for room, pulling out the blood stained carving of a dragon from under her armor. "Celestial mother, mend this one's wounds, and make their fragmented limb whole again." she prays, expending a large amount of healing energy through one hand placed on her shoulder.

She looks to the donkey, and waves after sniffing the air. "Ah! Peace on your nest, Shaman Un'eth." She greets, picking up the familiar scent on the cart. <draconic>

GAME: Seyardu rolls 4d8 +8: (18)+8: 26

Braelnoir nods, doing her best to hold the shifting bones in place with as little jostling as possible, though it's.. not her gift.

She frowns as Aryia takes a fast trip to her happy place, but, the best she can manages is catching her head when she sees the eyeroll so the poor woman doesn't end up making an omelette out of her skull.

"Shit! Sorry, luvvie!" That was probably her fault, but... she tries as Seyardu brings the Mother into this endeavor.

The Celestial Mother's healing suffuses the limb as bones shift into place and reform back into a solid structure. Aryia gasps awake from the odd, shifting motions that within her arm, toes curling as her legs twitch and flail some, making the process not entirely smooth. Thankfully, she doesn't thud her head back into the ground once more, Braelnoir keeping brain yolk from leaking out with her hand.

Pale, shallowed breathing from the pain, the mul'neissa passes back out. She's probably going to need a sling, and a place to lay down.

Good work! If a bit sloppy.

Un'eth's true scent is on the cart, though she, heself, currently smells like... well, you know. "Peace on your nest, Shaman Seyardu," the donkey replies, tail flicking despite a lack of flies. The unconscious mul is eyed. "Is she-aw in need of transport?" One is, conveniently, available, though currently filled with possibly uncomfortable and/or sharp rubble.

The Korite combat 'medic' smiles wanly at the Mul's abortive restart, then sighs.

She looks over toward the donkey again, clearly not Pancake, and nods the druid's way, "How is?"

There's a look to Seyardu and she arches an eyebrow, "We can move'r pretty easy, she ain't but a few stone at most. Yer call."

Seyardu smiles when Aryia seems to stir, but they quickly fall back into unconciousness. "We can carry her between us, the Tarrace is not too far, but I should prepare a sling for her, before we do so." Seyardu replies before pulling out a healer's kit from her bag, and the cloth already sized for preparing into a Sling, which she works on doing. "What brings you out here with that debris, Un'eth? Are you assisting with clearing out the noble district, or some other building going on?"

A hoof is stamped and her head bobs. "The buildings on the mountain, unlike the forests and jungles, will not regrow themselves. Some work, others watch, even more do nothing." Her head then flicks upwards. "Why did she fall? From where?" The structure here are not so decorated, but they don't look to be falling apart or down.

The crowd begins to clear, though they pause briefly from the talking donkey. Two guards arrive, them peering over the thinning crowd to assess the situation. Seeing a cleric on the scene, they question some onlookers before shaking their head and moving on.

Aryia stirs some as she moved about. But she's out.

Braelnoir seems troubled as she looks toward the TaRrAcE, but doesn't hesitate to nod, "A'ight."

There's a nod to Un'eth, and a little wry smirk, "Always get that sort, t'seems."

She's had to carry brothers and sisters off the field enough times, she shifts her position some to take up the burdens with what should provide enough stability and control, "On three?"

"Then what is broken should be rebuilt. And the less money the nobles spends, the less they will have to extort from those beneath them to pay for the repairs." Seyardu replies with a flick of her tail. With the arm bound up, she nods to Braelnoir and hooks an arm under her shoulder. "On three, yes. This one has news to share, if you would like to listen. There have been many good developments of late."

The silver sith-makar waits for Braelnoir's mark.

Un'eth could aid in synchronization and count that out, even now... but she does not. She isn't among those lifting Aryia. She is, however, interested in any possible news, as implied by Seyardu. Good developments would be a welcome change.

Once Aryia is lifted up, it's a simple fare of carrying her. She doesn't weigh much compared to the others, but she's a dense bag of muscle. The crowd has dispersed, aside from a kid holding onto their father's hand, staring at the talking donkey with wide eyes.

"One... two... three!"

The Mul'niessa is pretty light, and not being clad is the Korite's sort of 'work ensemble' certainly doesn't hurt.

Brae starts to lead the show off toward the TaRraCe with a bit of a nods, "Could use a giggle once we got her set down, proper." she agrees.

She frowns about halfway to the establishment and glances quizzicly at Seyardu, "Hell, m'I even allowed back in- fuckit, I'll sort it out, later."

"I think that we could all use some time to relax, especially Aryia." Seyardu replies with a small chuckle. "I do not see why you would not be allowed back in, Brae, and if there is a problem, I will resolve it, despite not expecting one."

It was easy enough to Carry Aryia the way between the two of them. "Un'eth, would you care to join us? The Tarrace has excellent food."

TarRaCe

Ignorant of the commotion outside, Culix has been enjoying a pint and lunch in the TarRaCe. She is currently seated at one of the tables, alone, with a half pint mug and half empty bowl of stew infront of her. She perks up when she hears folks coming in through the front door, and then raises her eyebrows, ears twitching at the sight of a familiar face being carried in. She jumps up from her seat, headed on over, "What in the hells happened?" she asks as she heads over to the approaching group.

Un'eth does, indeed, choose to join. She also chooses to make a brief detour, first. The cart is deposited at the Colosseum proper (where material for fill was expected) before she moves to the TarRace. Further, she enters wearing her scales; a form far more conducive to such things as stools, tables, plates, doorways, and remaining on the diner side of the menu.

The group makes their way to the establishment some of them frequent. Be it a bed a bench at a booth, or a chair, Aryia makes no fuss as she's settled in. She does awaken slowly, only a tinge of grey returning to her features as her eyes blearily open. Her jaw tenses as her hand holds onto her pained left arm. The mute woman sits more upright, taking shaky, deep breaths. She looks embarrassed at the group of people surrounding her, her gesturing slowly, "... thanks..." <Handspeech>

It's also easier to eat all civil-like, without getting meat juices all over the other diners.

Voice of experience.

Brae glances to Seyardu at her question, "After what happen, before?" she asks with an arched eyebrow, then twists to look over the other way as another voice demands information, "Found'r outside with a'busted arm." she offers helpfully, then continues on toward...

Well...

"Where'r we headed?"

Once such clarity is given, the Korite continues until the time comes to gently set the Mul'niessa down.

Just in time, it seems. She smiles a bit and cocks her head a touch, "Sure thing, luvvie."

With them moving inside, Seyardu's next course of action was to find a place to set them down. One of the booths seemed Ideal, and she moves them there, making sure they were sat down properly. "Yes, after what happened before. It will be fine." She reassures.

They glance over to the question, and blink. "Peace on your nest, Culix! It has been quite some time, this one hopes the days find you well. As for what happened, I am not sure. It seems they were sent flying out of the colosseum, for some unknown reason. But there was no commotion from there. "

"You are welcome, Aryia." She replies to the hand movements. "Apologies about the pain, but your arm needed to be set back in a few places."

Culix frowns when she's told about what happened, and then blinks at Seyardu's addition. "Flying through the air?" she wonders, and then looks back to Aryia. "You didn't fall for one of them gnome nutters with their snake oil, did you?" she asks her. "They'll tell you their tingymajigs and whatsits can give you heaven and earth, but they're as likely to blow up in your face as not." she says then, hands on her hips- she might look admonishing, if she weren't easily the shortest person in the room.

"It could be amputated," Un'eth adds on the matter of arms. Whether this is her healer's opinion, a comment that Aryia is fortunate things were not worse, or an offer of dismemberment may be hard to determine. Seyardu may determine hints of mild mirth in her tailtip's movement and scents, however. It is to her that Un'eth looks, now. "What news did you bear?"

With time, Aryia's breathing settles down and her color returns, though any small movements make her face twitch in pain as she rests against the back of the booth. She shakes her head at Culix's notion, a weak smile on her face. "No, I wouldn't dare touch those."

Un'eths comment makes the mul'neissa shoot a surprised look, then a firm 'no' is mouthed at her. The mute visage grows embrassed, her scratching the side of her head after taking her shades off. She gestures slowly, not having two hands for the full flavor of the language to blossom. "I... uh. Have been trying to copy something someone I know does. But I can't do it exactly like they do, so... I've been trying my own way."

She twiches in pain. "... it tends to fuck up." <Handspeech>

Braelnoir shoots a look to Un'eth, then shrugs, drawing back to let her get some more air.

She does shoot over toward the goblin, however, the notion, "That's what skinnin' knives are for." before returning to the conversation via gestures taking place. She hrm's a little, thoughtful, then, "Well... may wanna try in spots yer less likely ta bump inta stuff."

Hmmmm...

"Please, Un'eth, have at least a bit of faith in my healing abilities." The silverscale chuckles. "Ah! The news, this one would share with Braelnoir. Cryosanthia is healthy again, and Lily has returned."

"And this one, with the help of Aryia here, we went to Charn, and freed a bunch of people that were being sent away from Alexandria, among others."

She pauses for a moment, and looks at Aryia. "Yes, this might be dangerous, but you still need to learn it as some point. You should have a healer on hand the next time, it would not be unwise."

Culix just huffs and shakes herhead then, "What exactly were you tryin' to do?" she wonders of Aryia then. She glances towards Braelnoir, and then snorts, "Or spiked iron boots." she adds. Then looks back to Aryia, as the others offer their advice. "Or at least wear one of them para shoots the airmen have." she says then. "If you're likely to go flyin' through the air trying it."

"I have faith in your abilities, Seyardu," Un'eth clarifies, followed by a light thump of tail at the other's clarification and giving of news. To Aryia, she then offers her own suggestion to the pile, "Soft leaves or moss to land upon would be best." In case spiked boots or pairs of shoots do not work or a healer isn't available.

Aryia nods at their exploits Seyardu mentions, but she gives a shuddering sigh at the suggestions. All of them well meaning. She motions for a shot of liquor. "I... am trying to... shit this sounds stupid. I'm trying to move as fast as I possibly can. Memories fuel me. And I can't focus enough to... get to the right spot. I over shoot." The elf weakly smiles. "Thanks for the suggestions. I usually do have some healer nearby but I uh... went far away really fast.." <Handspeech>

Culix scratches her head a bit, "I mean, don't sound that stupid. There's a mul I've seen around, can zip aorund though shadows." she says then. "Don't rightly know how it works, but I seen her here at the baths before. Used her trick to zip right out of her clothes and into the water." she recalls with a hint of amusement in her voice. "Just- uh. Make sure you don't land on anything important, like your face, yeah?" she suggests. She invites herself to sit at the booth, opposite where Aryia is resting.

Like a lightning bolt from... well, you know, the words from Seyardu strike Brae to the core of her awareness and the human whirls on her with an astounded, "What? Sh'is! They are?"

Her head shakes, perhaps to realign her brain with her mouth, then, "Wait... then, how...?"

Any elation that dared show itself on the Korite's features goes the way of the color that drains from her face.

Son of a....

"Where's Aya!" she demands in dismay. A look to Seyardu, to Aryia, to Un'eth, as she heads off to her prior concerns.

"Culix is right, it does not sound stupid, Aryia." Seyardu agrees. "Far from it in fact, I have already seen what you are capable of. And yes, avoiding blows to the head should be the priority in your practice."

Though, she falls silent when Braelnoir speaks up, her head bowed. The perfume hid what sadness was present.

"They are, I can not say where they are with any certainty. But they are a danger if come across."

At the mention of another mul'neissa, the pained shadow's shimmering eyes dim. And her expression falls. There's a small nod of acknowledgement about the advice.

She flinches once from the shout. Then again in the pain. The shimmer ceases. "... sister... did what she thought was best, despite it not being smart. She, from what we can tell, traded herself for Lily."

From her recently healed arm in the sling, a drop of shadow manifests and drips from her fingertip. Then another. She glances up to Braelnoir, sadness and fatigue all over her pained visage. "... I'm sorry. I... I'm so tired of dealing with this..." <Handspeech>

Culix flinches at Braelnoir's shouting, and she glances back and forth between those present. "Don't look at me, I'm out of the loop, here." she says. "I don't rightly know what's going on, it's all a bit over my head. But if you're in a pinch, you can call on me." she insists Aryia's way.

A pause, "Lilly- that's the Kobold right?" she recalls- not as familiar with Cryo and her ward as many of the others present. "This have to do with what you mentioned the other day?" she asks Aryia. "About what happened in the noble district?"

Braelnoir closes her eyes as her teeth grind behind her lips, the surely thunderous sound muted only by the rattle of her mailed fists clenching shut.

She went and fuckin' did it....

There is a subtle shift in the balance of her own scent, her peculiar blend of draconian and mammalian pheremones, as the low key despair she'd been carrying since Lily, abated only momentarily, is touched with shame and anger.

Her eyes open, narrow, with threads of gold among the amber of her eyes, catching the handsign from... Aya's sister?

Her expression softens, though empathy only adds to her emotions rather than tamping them down.

"I'm... sorry, Aryia." she says quietly, then turns to glance between the others, "What's been happenin?"

"That is Lily, yes." Seyardu responds to Culix with a sigh. "And it does not, directly. But they are linked due to the perpetrator being behind both."

the silver scale shakes her head, and reaches out to hug the nearby mul'niessa. "Too much has been happening here, and it seems that people are seeking to discredit the adventurer's guild further and further. No one bats an eye when nobles nearly burn down an estate summoning fiends, but if someone breaks a few windows trying to stop them, apparently it is horribly negligent of them."

Aryia, despite the pain of moving, just let's herself lean into Seyardu. Eyes close as a sad frown rests on her lips. She nods along absently, too engrossed in her lightly melancholy to add anything. Shade drips from her chin like a leaky bucket.

Culix scoffs at that, "Nobles do as they please. They dun' like the adventurers guild 'cause the adventurer's guild don't answer direct to 'em like the guard do." she says then and shakes her head a bit. "Never felt bad about knocking over a noble's place, not once." she says then. She looks back over to Aryia and frowns at her. "Old offer still stands, if you need a safe house to get away for a bit." she says then. "Or if you need someone to snoop around and help you figure things out."

Braelnoir snorts with a venomous, "Cake eaters." as she shakes her head and unclenches her fist through some effort of will.

She nods toward the goblin as she tells it from the mountaintop, "Never felt bad'bout knockin one down, neither." she replies grimly.

She won't make a promise she knows she can't keep, she's already run into this demon and it was gallingly obvious she couldn't touch him.

She sinks into a crouch though and does offer, "We'll try an' figger out how ta get Aya out from's thumb, Aryia."

She looks up to Seyardu again, and wonders, "What's the guild's response been so far? Only so much shit they'll catch 'fore they start pitchin' back."

"Complete dismissal of our actions." Seyardu responds with a shake of her head. "Like the houses weren't damage from Un'eth trying to stop a fiend from running wild in the city."

"At least some of the nobles are in the pockets of fiends. It would make sense, that they try to discredit us, pay off a few people to speak up. I just wish the adventurers guild was actually supportive."

A bowl of curry arrives for Seyardu, but she leaves it a moment. "Also, it was not a guild sanctioned mission, so they are not responsible."

Aryia's free hand motions to Culix from within Seyardu's embrace. Faint umbras follow in the wake of her gestures. "Don't look into it. It's not worth it. Event just peeking your nose at things might get you killed. It's exhausting to deal with, and I'm just biding my time and hoping it gets resolved cleanly."

Unlit eyes settled on Braelnoir, a lethargic sigh leaving her, head shaking. "You and I both know that fuck wit can't be beat head on." Her frown deepens at the mention of the people pining again the guild. She takes her shot and downs it. <Handspeech>

Culix folds her arms and settles back into her seat for a minute, "Wouldn't surprise me. Rich folk love cults. Dunno why. Guess life's pretty boring when you have servants to do everything up to and including wiping your ass for you." she says then in regards to the fiend summoning noble business. "That an' they have more than a few dealings with the Syndicate. And the syndicate are practically a cult 'emselves. Worship Illotha." she tells the others then. She sighs a bit and nods her head, "Alright, I'll keep my distance. I'd say go to the temples for dealing with demons, but... well. They're a mixed bag too." a glance at Seyardu, "No offense."

She huffs, and gets up from the table again. "I wont go looking for trouble, I promise. But I'll just ask a few folks I know to keep an eye out, incase they see her. Beggars 'n panhandlers and the like. Let you know if anyone lets me know."

"Then we piss'n his lunch some other way." Brae replies with a little shrug, glancing to Seyardu a moment, "We know which ones?"

With a little shake of the head, the Korite goes on, "Th'Guild can't shit where it eats. They gotta make th'diplomatic jawin' up front. May have somethin' rolling under the table."

Randolf pushes open the door and comes lumbering into the TarRaCe. He straightens his posture, tugging the lapels of his robe as he glances around. He takes note of Seyardu as he lumbers for the bar, and he reachs up to toss the silverscale a jaunty two-fingered salute. "Oy, Sey. Peace on yer nest," he calls in greeting. The others he doesn't quite recognize for the time being. Reaching the bar, he hops up onto one of the dwarf-height stools, rapping his knuckles on the bar. "A pint o' bitter. An' have ye any o' the shrieker soup? I'd like tae try a bowl."

"Not all of them, no." Seyardu replies after taking a bite of her meal and shaking her head. "Lord Altay is one, and they're working with Morgan and Erik."

She shakes her head at Culix. "There is no offense taken, Culix, the temples have not shown themselves to be trustworthy for such matters with everything still going on."

She turns and waves to the dwarf, and something to perk her up just a bit. "Have you seen Venom recently?" She asks the mul'niessa she was next to, after giving Randolf a wave.

Aryia sighs, abating from Culix's notions. "... okay," she gestures tiredly with a flick of her fingers, silently groaning as she pulls out of the hug and sits upright. There's a little frown at Braelnoir's declarations, her reaching out with her good hand and patting the Korite's arm. "We've done what we can with disrupting the slaves," she motions slowly.

Milk eyes gaining a hint of their shimmer, a scarred mul'neissa squints at the stocky man that addressed her friend. She tilts her head to the side, then glances up to the silverscale. "Who's that?" she askes with her good hand, jabbing a thumb towards the man. Though, her face dusts a tiiiiinge red. "Uh, no, not yet. Why?" <Handspeech>

Braelnoir blinks, "Morgan?" she asks in some surprise, "Itty bitty woman?"

That's gonna get awkward, fast.

With the batting at her arm, Brae's eyes turn that way and she seems.. somewhat deflated at that, but she nods, "Still... ya got folks outta their chains. Good on ya, there. Damned good on ya, luvvie."

She upnods toward the Khazadi, then pushes herself up to her feet to keep her knees from knotting up.

'Venom'?

Must be a new golem in town.

Culix nods her head again, "I'll be careful, don't you worry." she assures Aryia then. "Got no notion of scrapping with demons any time soon." she adds as she pushes away from the table. "Either way, take care of yourself, and maybe lay off the acrobatics. Least till your arm's mended." she adds then. The goblin heads off towards the exit, now, presumably to go ask those beggars she mentioned.

Randolf slides a couple coins over to the server to pay for his meal, perking a bushy red brow as he peers critically at the bowl of purple soup that gets put before him. He inhales the steam roiling off the bowl, hrrming as he tugs at his beard. "Well, it certainly -smells- good," he mutters. Taking a piece of crusty bread, he dunks it in the soup and crunches it. He chews thoughtfully, his expression turning from pensive to awed over a few chomps of his mighty dwarven jaws. "Oh, beards o' me fathers," he mutters, hurriedly dunking the crust again and cramming it in his mouth. "Mmh! Och! Ish ish delish'ush." Bolting down the bread, he starts shoveling spoonfuls into his bearded maw. But he takes care not to spill a drop in his beard--he's a bit more well-mannered than some of his kinsmen.

"Ah, I do not know if it is a morgan you know, Brae." Seyardu replies quickly as she sees the korite looking surprised. "They are a noble who does business with charn on the regular. Selling wine or something of that sort. But yes, getting them free is a wonderful feeling. I am glad, and those who returned to Mictlan seem to be recovering well." Then she turns to Aryia and smiles after giving Culix a parting wave. "Well, both are related. But Randolf is a fellow adventurer, who was investigating a celestial event with me, Venom, and Paenitia for a wizard. Randolf is a wizard, but they are a good sort. As for the other? Well, I will not spoil things, but we acquired something fascinating in the endeavor."

Aryia gives a goodbye wave to her gobbo friend as they head off, her glancing to Braelnoir and weakly smiling. She's stopped dripping shade from her fingers. "Thanks. It was hard, but worth it."

She tilts her head at Seyardu, then looks back to Randolf. Her eyes blink in recognition. The cleric's assuaging words keep the typical glare off her eyes at the mention of fingerwagglers. "... oh, yes. Venom recounted that job to me. I'm surprised that actually happened. Spoil things...? Uh... alright...?" She drops it. <Handspeech>

Braelnoir hrm's, "KNow a Morgan, she makes magic items." she says softly, massaging the inner corners of her eyes and bridge of her nose with her fingers.

She stops paying attention for a couple days....

There's a light grumble from the warrior's midsection, but her only response is to roll her eyes a moment before rejoining the conversation, "Paenitia the fluffy one in the mask?"

Randolf makes short work of his soup, lifting the bowl and tipping it back as he clack-clack-clacks his spoon to get every last drop into his mouth. It's a wonder he doesn't lick it afterwards. He sets the bowl back down, lattering the spoon into it with a happy sigh. "She was right. That stuff -is- good," he says, patting his hefty middle with a laugh. Hearing his name, he looks over towards Seyardu. As he hears himself referred to as a 'good sort', he can't help but proudly puff up his burly chest. "'course I'm a good sort," he says. Picking up his mug, he downs a long swallow to wash down his supper. Setting it back on the bar, he digs for his pipe and tobacco pouch. He glances at the three--but he only really knows Seyardu. "Dame Paenitia, the lucht knight. Aye that's the one."

"Dame Paenitia snapdragon del Harana, knight of the pillar and paladina of Tarien. Tarien does not have paladins, but I have not met a more noble upholder of their ideals." Seyardu chuckles. "Well, Sabina may come close. Would you like something to eat, Brae? My treat."

"Well, we got together to discuss the findings from the job, and learned more. If you ever find any red shards of metal, just let me know, or Randolf if you see them, but we need to make sure they are disposed of. Venom or Pae, too."

The silver sith-makar smiles to the dwarven wizard. "Peace on your nest Randolf, and certainly, you are. They saved a celestial after they were attacked, and ensured that they had time to recover."

A glance to mul'neissa shows a tired expression on the heavily scarred woman's visage. Her left arm in a sling, her words are pantomimed and gestured, rather than spoke. A rather particular nasty scar to her throat giving evidence as to why she communicates in such a way. "Oh. Yes, that tracks from what Venom told me. I'll... keep that in mind," her brows pinch together.

Perhaps in an oddly naive question, she questions, "What's a... S-E-L-E-S-T-E-A-L?" <Handspeech>

Braelnoir takes in all that name and nods, "That's th'one, thanks, luv." Her humor dims a bit and she looks off toward the upstairs on mention of the other Tarienite before she shakes her head, "Much obliged, Sey, but that's just tellin' me I done lingered too long. Need ta get back."

She rolls her neck a little, getting a couple of muted pops, then, "I see any o'yer scrap I'll letcha know."

Her eyes, back to their normal amber, turn toward Aryia then and her hands come together before her, signing, "Keep the faith." <handspeech>

That done, aloud, she gives a little smile and a, "Mind that wing fer a spell, an' rest up."

At last, to the friendly Khazad, she offers a casual salute, "Nice runnin' inta ya, luvvie, sorry w'ain't got time ta get better introduced, but mebbe next time. Ya'll take care, now."

Randolf works on filling his pipe, tamping the bowl with a fingertip before tucking the bit in his mouth. He mutters a word of power, conjuring up a spark of flame to light the tobacco. Once he has a hearty glow kindled, he snaps his fingers to banish the spark. "Meanin' nae disrespect, Sey," he says around a billow of vanilla-honey pipe smoke, "but weren't we supposed tae be keepin' hushed 'bout... our wee little thing we found?"

"Brae, you are welcome here, I know this. But if you need to leave, then I understand." Seyardu responds, leaving her seat to clap a hand on their shoulder. "And may the celestial mother protect you, Brae. Things will get better."

When they left, she turns her head attention back to the others. "Yes, but Aryia is one of my most trusted friends in Alexandria. Perhaps, but if they were to break that trust, I would have worse problems to deal with."

And then to Aryia, she begins to speak again. "A celestial is, you know how fiends are not of this plane? Well, there are planes that are the opposite, where beings called celestials reside. They are good by nature, and oppose the actions of the lower planes. Think of them, somewhat like the exact opposite of fiends."

Aryia's eyes shimmer brighter at Braelnoir's few gestured words. Not of faith of the gods, but of something else. She reaches out and puts a hand over the two joined ones before motioning, "I am doing everything I can to keep moving." She waves a good bye, and the party becomes a crowd of three.

The mute woman cants her head to the side at the explanation, a bit of bashfulness crossing her features from the praise as she rubs the back of her neck with her good arm.

She she poses a tough egg to swallow. "If demons run around here, where the fuck are the S-E-L-E-S-T-E-A-L-S? You mean those feather wing things in the at the temples? Where the fuck are they?" Randolf may or may not understand Aryia's gestures, but the squint she adorns is one of suspicion and frustration. <Handspeech>

Randolf does not actually understand handspeech. His shaggy red brows furrow a bit as he puffs at his pipe. "I really need tae learn how tae read those hand-signs," he grumbles. "Wonder if Comprehend Languages would do it...?" He considers that for a moment. Puff puff. "Actually, I think it -might-, come tae think..."

"It would, I have heard of magic artifacts for languages working upon them. But I can recommend it myself, as it is good to know. Sometimes when you are trying to be silent, being able to communicate with no sound is valuable." The silver makari replies. "Aryia was just saying how with fiends being here, it is odd that Celestials are not appearing to deal with them. Which I am inclined to agree with."

Seyardu sighs. "It does not make sense with what I know. Perhaps they are even more busy elsewhere, or are not interfering for some other reason."

Aryia points at Randolf as he mentions that spell, a flicker of recognition going across her features as she gives a double nod. Confirming what he thinks. She gives a light sigh at Seyardu's words, her motioning up at the silverscale with a sober brow raised, "That just only reinforces my opinions. But whatever, I can't know everything going on."

She looks to her recovering arm and grumbles something under her breath. Only known by her lips moving voicelessly. <Handspeech>

Randolf considers for a moment longer. Then, he tucks his pipe in the side of his mouth, sending up a couple idle little puffs as he draws his wand off his belt. He taps it against his palm a couple times, brow furrowed for a moment. "Now what was that command phrase...?" he mutters. Lifting his wand, he sketches a quick pattern. "Re ex re usara especho!" He gives a final snap of the wand, and there's a soft strobe of blue light. A moment later, he nods, holstering the wand with a satisifed hrumph. "Aye, thought that might be it." He looks back to the pair, taking ahold of his pipe once more.

"Perhaps they are simply unaware. Or perhaps it would be dangerous for them to fight openly." Seyardu suggests with a sigh. "That was magic to understand her? I hope it works."

"I understand, we can not know everything. But this, at least we can react to this. I may be out of town soon, to deal with what I can."

As the magic takes hold for Randolf, Aryia's gestures become understood. Her actually easing some as she didn't have to have a translator. Though, knowing exactly what she was saying is... mixed in its desire.

"Well that just fucking sucks. I really don't get that shit. But, like I said, whatever, that's your wheelhouse, not mine."

She cants her head to the side. "You're heading out? Uh, alright. Is..." the hand pauses to glance to Randolf, her gesturing with smaller signs, "... is Venom going to?" <Handspeech>

Randolf peers a bit at the two as the meaning behind those gestures become clear to him. "Well," he says, tapping his lips with the bit of his pipe. "As I understand it, our universe, our Prime Material Plane, it's nae meant tae be touched directly by the hands or powers o' the other realms. Some sort o' bargain struck at the dawn o' time by both sides o' the Cosmic Axis. Nae direct interference." He grunts. "'course, demons an' devils bein' the filthy shitbirds that they are... they break the rules all the time. But the powers o' the angels... they still observe the terms. They don't come down here an' lay about wi' great trumps or wheels o' fire." He shrugs. "But... that's just from me readin' ahead in the Extraplanar Studies textbooks. I'm nae much of a theologian."

"I do not know about the specifics about the planar pacts, but I believe that it applies more to the gods, and not the planar beings." Seyardu offers, but she sighs. "Regardless, yes, there is too much going on. At least, we should be able to deal with this. I will be going with Randolf, Paenitia, and Venom, most likely. I will watch out for her, and everyone else. So do not fret over that, Aryia." She adds, with a smile to her friend.

Aryia gives a sigh of relief at that reassurance. "Thanks Seyardu," she gestures towards her. Randolfs words go right over Aryia's head, the shadow elf staring at him with glowy eyes. It's... a little off putting. To accentuate her complete lack of comprehension, her head slowly tilts sideways like a puppy seeing something new. Certainly looked like a dullard that got dense textbook slammed against their head. She shakes her head. "Okay. Just be careful. I don't want to have to deal with two broken arms and no one to chastise me or fix it."

She gives a little, cheeky smile. <Handspeech>

Randolf nods his head firmly. "Aye. We'll get this business sorted," he says. "We're the good guys. It's what we do. -That's- part o' the Cosmic Design too. Good guys win, bad guys lose."

"Hey, I am careful. But I will be even more so for the sake of others." Seyardu chuckles. "It would not do to not be around to help you or Venom or Randolf in the future."

Then, she sighs. "Which is why, I feel I should be more wary of the goings on in Alexandria. Not everything is within my capabilities to deal with."

Aryia gives Randolf a look of 'I absolutely do not believe that.' And it might be something to refute, were the evidence on her person etched skin deep not present "Awful lot of bad guys winning," she quips.

She regards Seyardu, but speaks to both. "And that's why I'm focusing on myself, and what's around me. I can't get better if every waking moment is spent worrying."

There's a moment of nothing, then she abruptly points at the dwarf, shimmery eyes narrowed. "Hey. You keep Venom safe. Seyardu and Paenitia too. I'll be really angry if one of them come back in a body bag," she gestures with conviction. The spell doesn't convey her tone, but its written in her sharp motions and pinched brows. <Handspeech>

Randolf coughs on a lungful of pipe smoke, his cheeks reddening and his beard bristling as he flusters and harrumphs. "Och, see here now! I'll nae have -anyone- dyin' on -my- watch!" he grumbles. "Reos' flamin' blue balls, does -everyone- have tae threaten me if their friends dinnae come back hale? Hrumph!" He scowls dourly, sending up angry little puffs as he fumes.

"They will not." Seyardu chuffs, looking to Aryia, squinting, but firm in her expression seemingly. "It is a thought not worth entertaining, Aryia. We will be alright, and you will be as well. Just, do not lose sight of what is being done."

The silver makari sighs, and turns to Randolf. "Apologies, we have all been through much of late. And adventuring work can be dangerous, but you are right."

Aryia purses her lips before sighing and relenting. "... sorry. Shit's been rough, like she said," the mute woman motions with her good hand. They make a motion of getting up, growing light headed for a moment before righting themselves. "I... think I'm going to lay down. All those emotions made me tired. Nice to meet you R-A-N-D-O-L-F.zn" <Handspeech>

Randolf takes the pipe from his mouth, pinching the bridge of his broad nose. "I understand, lassie," he says. "Gods know it's been hard on all of us. But... as terrible as things may seem now, I prefer tae believe that things could be -better-. That we could have a brighter future, if we only have the courage tae go out an' create it." He checks his pocketwatch with a grunt. "But I best be gettin' back meself. Got an exam on the morrow. Damned Transmutations. Such squiggly little spells." He drains the last of his pint and upends his pipe over the ashtray, knocking the ashes from the bowl before tucking it into his breast pocket. "Hammers high, lasses. I go." Hopping to his feet, he lumbers for the door, heading on out into the night.

"Take care Randolf, and peace on your nest. I hope that your tests go well." She says to the wizard, giving them a wave.

Then, she turns back to Aryia, and glances at her arm. "I understand, rest is important for injuries. Are you going to rent a room here, or return to the fernwood? If that is the case, then I can walk with you back there."

Aryia waves goodbye as she ponders the question. Holding up two fingers for the second option, she waits for Seyardu to rise, and Aryia walks out with her with tired steps. Today was... okay.

-End Scene-