Full Moon's Light
Log Info
- Title: Full Moon's Light
- Emitter: Aftershock
- Characters: Cryosanthia, Mikilos, Pelka, Zapolklnex, Merek, Lanier, Lysos
- Place: A10: Temple of Daeus
- Time: Sunday, April 12, 2020, 5:00 PM
- Summary: Cryosanthia and Mikilos solicit some adventurers to assist with guarding Sephielia from her wee Fae friends who are likely to come and take her, as promised, on this night of the full moon. They provide some instructions, that they need to speak with these Fae to acquire assistance against the Endless Winter, the Queen of Winter, She of the Shard Tower, Salina. Fae likes, personal items and candy, and dislikes, cold iron and insults, are covered and the party heads to the Trisgwar residence. Meeting with the Grandfather they find he has refused to set out the offerings, and his daughter seems intent on leaving. Some defenses and spells are cast, while the party splits up to examine the house and the grounds. A Circle of Rosebushes is a possible entry point, Cryo investigates and discovers a lingering magic field. As others come to assist, an army of Fae explode outwards and fly towards the little elfin girl who is restrained on the balcony. Mikilos, Cryosanthia and Lanier are able to speak Sylvan and start negotiations. Cryo defers to Mikilos as he is clearly more prepared, and resolves herself to providing translations to the rest of the party. The Fae are willing to bargain, but want the child and that resolved before they answer questions. The party struggles to come up with things of significance to offer, so Merek offers himself. The Fae ask for his first born, and he readily agrees, holding out his hand to seal the deal with a blood pact. The elder elf, Cryo and Lysos, are horrified and talk Merek out of it. Mikilos suggests the old man and his grandfather go, the Queen reluctantly accepts this, but Lysos points out it is also slavery and Lanier suggests the personal items be reconsidered. Items, which Cryo was intending to organize, but failed to do because of an emotional breakdown. Everyone comes up with an item of significance, except Zapolklnex, who calls the Fae Queen Niceven as worm. He is rendered unconscious by one of her guards. The party's offerings are taken, painfully, as each are dear, then Mikilos gets down to asking his questions. Each one requires a commitment and sacrifice on his part, which he agrees too. The other party members leave or head inside, to console Sephiela that she won't be going with her 'friends' by telling her stories. Stories about anything but faeries.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Appearing, in Order -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Cryosanthia 6'9" 267 Lb Sith-Makar Female A dashingly tall, elegant white-scaled lizard woman. Mikilos 6'8" 180 Lb Dawn Elf Male Tall male dawn elf, rosey blonde and handsome. Pelka 5'8" 140 Lb Eaglefolk Male Egalrin Artificer, dark and brooding. skree. Zapolklnex 4'5" 115 Lb Shadow Elf Male A darkly dressed traveling Mul'niessa man Merek 5'10" 215 Lb Human Male A black-haired, dusky male with golden eyes. Lanier 6'0" 245 Lb Human Male Young, lean and strong Acanian wearing hide clothing. Lysos 5'6" 105 Lb Human/Tsuran Female Dark eyes, dark hair, olive skin, a jotun-sized chip on the shoulder. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- As the GM -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Aftershock -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
It's another short-notice assignment at the Adventurer's Guild, and as before, seems to involve a white-scaled sith-makar.
She is tall and elegant, wearing white layered wizard robes with pale blue enhancements and patterns on them. Those who signed up before would remember an icy attitude, which seems to have thawed somewhat. She still has a formal bearing, but looks at each person individually and moves her hands more. Also when she speaks, her tone is warm and engaging.
"Greetings everyone, Peace on your Nests. This one is Cryosanthia. I recognize a few of you, and are glad you are here again. My friend, who went off with the Fae a few days ago, has returned. I suspect the others who volunteered did so as well. If you remember anything of that time, we would be very interested. Their return means the wee Fae now consider themselves to be at their strongest, and will come to collect Sephielia."
The sith hesitates a little, looking at the tall dawn elf beside her, then continues, "This would like to prevent that, peacefully. That the fae not steal the grand-daughter from her grand-father. We also wish to question them, regarding the best way to contact their rulers, whom we are in need of assistance from. My understanding is the Fae dislike cold iron weapons, insults, and jokes, so please use them on each other before we get there."
"That was the joke."
She waves for everyone to follow and leads the way out of the Guild and towards the Noble's district, with the large estates and the grand houses. The Trisgwar home is one of the smaller ones, and shows signs of neglect. A few tiles are missing on the roof, some grass grows in the path, decorative flowers surrounding the trees seem more wild and accidental than carefully arranged. It's still very impressive, there are hints however that the heritage is on the wane.
Mikilos has gathred a few supplies, things that might come in handy, or might be utterly useless. Hard to tell with fae. If nothing else, there's a fair sized basket of sweet rolls to be shared if the Wee Ones don't accept the bribe.
Pelka follows along obediently, walking along next to the others and occasionally casting covetous glances up at the sky. As they approach the Trisgwar home he comments, "You know I've been just waiting for those Fae to come around to cause trouble. In fact, I've been spending a lot of time circling the house from the skies, and perching on the rooftops of neighbooring estates." He hesitates and then adds, "Come to think of it I probably wasn't supposed to do that. Ah well! I blame it all on the Fae!"
Zapolklnex lifts his hood over his head, and lets Crax perch on top. Shoving his hands into his seeves, he nods, and listens. "My kind are often mistrusted, so if the goal is to speak peacefully with them, I should remain silent."
Merek wears a white-black attire, the beltcape about it adjusted while he places on the scarf which he wears. There's little with him the way of weapon, except the staff which he keeps upon the back. He does nod a bit to the white sith-makar, while he smiles. Mikilos shrugs to Zap. "Mistrusted by mortals, perhaps. Fae likely have different standards. They might not be able to tell you and I apart."
The Green Warder named Lanier Vaylan ranges out ahead of the group occassionally, setting an undulating pace that carries him further away from and then close to the group once again. Loping alongside the ranger is the gray wolf Spud, who occassionally breaks away from the ranger and rejoins a little while later. At one point, Lanier rejoins and then stays with the group. He walks around the group towards Cryosanthia, asking in a low voice, "We're going to deny the fae what they somehow feel is their due and then ask them for how we can get in touch with their leadership should we need a favor?" The ranger seems momentarily bothered by this, continuing, "I'm not great diplomat, but this seems a rocky start." After a moment, he adds, "Nothing to report from scouting ahead, by the way."
"I don't know that it matters, Zapolklnex... rrr... as Master Mikilos says. They likely see differently than we do. Your heritage may even be a boon, it's hard to say. Please speak if something comes to mind." Cryosanthia says.
The palescale sith gives a quick look around at everyone, nodding to Merek , a small wave to the others. "I think they would appear, Pelka, and not fly in, but then anything could happen really."
She raises her hand up to the door, looking directly at Lanier, "Yes, well, this one didn't say it would be easy. I wish I'd brought some candy. Some wintermints would have been lovely." She knocks firmly.
Mikilos nods. "I've rolls, wine, some small jars of honey and jam, and a book of riddles. And enough magic to level a small village, if it comes to that. Though a -really- hope it doesn't."
A simple knock on the door reveals an butler to the household whom some of you met before. He seems unsurprised by your presence and allows you entry to the house. In fact you are led right away to the the grandfather who stands pensively in front of the fireplace. He looks somehow as if he's managed to age even further during the period of time since you last saw him and he rubs his hands together worriedly. "She's asleep upstairs. I... I do hope that you are here to stop them? That man... Seldan said that the fae were going to come and try and kidnap my granddaughter tonight." He looks haunted by the very thought.
Pelka nods. "That's right. We're here to stop them. If you thought the Fae were bad, wait until you get a load of Kulthians!" He pauses. "Wait! Wait that came out wrong." Pelka thinks furiously. "Um...so she's upstairs? Are there any windows in her room? A balcony? Any way in or out other than her door?"
Lanier enters the house with the others, being escorted into the room with the fireplace. He listens for a moment, then looks towards Pelka, "We should check the room, never-the-less. There might be something that isn't obvious that needs to be looked at." He then looks to the grandfather, "I'll return."
"Protecting her is our intention." Cryosanthia replies confidently with a sweeping gesture to include the party. Somewhat less confidently she says, "We'll need to set up and take some precautions, and access parts of the house..."
She watches Lanier head deeper into the mansion, then smiles warmly at the old elf, "I'm the negotiator; I'll leave the defenses to the others."
Merek walks up into the place, and nods a bit. He will nod a bit to Cryosanthia, and look between folk, "We will protect the gal," he says, then he's waiting for all.
Mikilos sighs. "They might not use anything as mundane as a door or window. I'm not familair with this specific type of fae. Hopefully, they're willing to talk, even negotiate. They might already be here, and are just waiting for the proper time, whenever that happens to be. Sunset, moonrise, midnight, I don't know their standards."
"Mikilos, might she have made some circles?" Cryosanthia asks, then turns to look at the grandfather, "Where would you leave out Milk, were there other things she asked you to set out? Maybe I should keep her company while everyone looks around?"
"Negotiate?" Pelka repeats. He tilts his head slightly to one side. "If these are the same Fae we met before, then honestly they are /willing/ to negotiate, but the problem is they are a little /too/ good at it. Isn't that a thing that people say? 'Never make a deal with the Fae?'...?" He tilts his head back and looks up at the ceiling. "Does anyone know what kind of powers they might have? Are there any spells or tactics that would work against them?"
The older elf nods. "I refused to set out milk for her. She was very upset, and I just got her to settle down and go to bed." He sighs and looks around at all of you. "She didn't ask for anything else. There's a circle of rose bushes in the garden... does that matter?"
Lanier returns in due time, moving quietly down the stairs and back into the room with the fireplace, "The room has a balcony and a window, about six feet by seven feet. If we want to use her room as a safehouse, we'll need to put a strong lock on the window or a Wall of Iron over it." He looks towards the older elf, "Your granddaughter is sleeping peacefully, for the moment."
Mikilos smiles. "I heard it as 'Never bargin with a Dragon' but the general concept holds true for many creatures. As for powers... no. I've been raeding storeies all week on fae, but half of them contradict the other half, and many of them I'm sure are just stories, with no facts backing them. But I have yet to puzzle out which are which. Invisibility is quite likely, as are other illusions." He listens, and nods to the old elf. "It might. We can take a look. A ring of mushrooms is the steriotype, but roses are a possibility."
Merek nods a bit, while he thinks about it all.
"Fickle as a fae, my old mother used to say," Lysos offers up, doing her best not to touch anything, and trying her best not to stare at at anyone. "Stories she'd sometimes say of people trading an old shoe for a kingdom, or losing their loved ones in exchange for a broken bucket. "I can set up a few alarms at some of the doors and windows if could warn us when something crosses a threshold."
GAME: Cryosanthia casts Detect Magic. Caster Level: 2 DC: 13 GAME: Merek rolls knowledge/nature: (14)+8: 22
"Lysos! I haven't seen you in forever! It's great to see you again." Cryosanthia notices the Tsuran, gives her a small bow. She addresses the other, "Well, Sephielia said they preferred posies but roses might do. Let's go take a look at them. Which part of the grounds are they on?"
Receiving directions, Cryosanthia heads outside to examine the circle of rosebushes. On the way she flickers her fingers, a swirl of light cascades down her arm, making her sleeve glow a little, then the scales on her eyeridges seem a lot brighter.
"Green roses are nice and pretty rare and all, quite difficult to care for, all that," Merek mentions, while he nods a bit between the party.
Pelka nods at Lysos. "That seems like a good idea. Setting up an alarm on the window and on the way from the balcony inside the room, at least. If you leave the door un-alarmed, it would give our friends here a way in and out, if they want to check on Sephilia or stay with her, without setting off the alarm falsely." He glances towards Cryosanthia as he says this since she's the one who volunteered to stay with the girl. But that glance is how he realises she and the rest of the party are leaving, and begins rushing his words. "I can take you to the window and the balcony, from the outside?" he offers to Lysos, fanning his wings slightly.
At your behest the old man leads you outside to show you his circle of roses which encircle a little gazebo. The roses are alternating green, and red flowers. The lovely blooms seem quite ordinary to the majority of you. The old man looks at the flowers fondly. "They're a rare breed, as you say; difficult to care for. But worth it for their particular fragrance. It's a family tradition to grow them."
Confusion causes Lysos's brow to furrow when the white sith'makar addresses her by name. The confusion keeps her from properly responding before the large lizard woman leaves to go check on the garden. "Was that... Cryosanthia's mom?" she asks of no one in particular. Then she gives her head a shake, resolving to ask the sith'makar as soon as she gets a chance. At Pelka's head bob.. and really, she does her absolute best to keep her eyes from widening at her first in-person meeting of one of the eagle folk.. she nods in return. "Okay.. I'll get that done, then rejoin the rest of you down here. Uh.. and sure... I could use the lift.. I guess..?"
Mikilos murmurs absently to himself, tiny motes of light flickering around his fingertips. He follows along, eyeing the old man thoughfully. "...your family... is it just the two of you? I know a little something of how that can go."
Zapolklnex would have nodded with a smirk when the two suggested his background might not be a problem. So, he takes that into account, and follows along. But still, he lets others speak first.
GAME: Lysos casts Alarm. Caster Level: 3 DC: 15 GAME: Lysos casts Alarm. Caster Level: 3 DC: 15
"There's a faint aura of residual magic in the middle of the flowers." Cryosanthia says, after staring at the rose bushes for a little while. She says that loud enough for everyone to hear, speaking to herself her voice is much lower, "Faran is order of the Purple Rose."
The white-scale turns her head to the grandfather, "They are beautiful, could I have a cutting of one?"
"Just the two of us now." The old man agrees with Mikilos, looking at the roses, and he seems happy to hear that Cryosanthia would like a cutting of one. "Unfortunately they can't be cut or they die. What you see of them is all natural growth. Wait... Did you say something is magical about them? As in /they/ are the reason that the fae can come to my granddaughter?" He grows restless and pushes up his sleeves. "I will kill them all myself!"
When Lysos heads up to set up her alarm she'll realize rather immediately that the girl is no longer in her bed. Instead she's at her window, frowning down at the group of adventurers in the garden.
GAME: Zapolklnex casts Identify. Caster Level: 4 DC: 16
Mikilos lays a hand on the old man's arm. "I think it's too late for that, and I doubt it's the fault of the roses. They are simply the path used." He considers. "Your graddaughter... what does she think of all this?"
Pelka helps Lysos by ferrying to the second floor and setting her down on the balcony to cast her spells. His wings seem strong enough to handle the extra weight but it's clear they are meant for spreading wide to catch the air, and the occasional flap while otherwise gliding along. And not especially well suited for hovering or delicate maneuvers along the side of the Trisgwar house. At the sight of the girl at her window, Pelka is startled and nearly drops Lysos before he recovers and sets them both down on the balcony. "Ah..." he tries to think of what to say to Sephilia. "Ah...nothing to see here. Just adventurers, doing our, ah...adventuring. Isn't it late for you? Go back to sleep!" he urges.
Merek nods a bit, while he thinks, "We should, probably look to get a guard with the gal," he says.
Zapolklnex mutters something Eldritch, and spends a good half minute staring at the flowers Cryosanthia mentions, walking closer to do so. "Unfortunately it's too faded to be sure what kind of magic it is, at least to my eyes."
By the end of the 'flight' Lysos is clinging quite desperately to whatever she can hold on to on Pelka, and is most relieved to be set down. Not that they went /that/ high.. and sure, people pay for rides like that in goblintown.. but then there's the girl. Lysos clears her throat. "Hi," she tells the girl. "I'm Lysos. What's your name?" She even holds her hand out to the girl in greeting.
"No, no! Don't kill them, it's as Mikilos says, they're a door. The fae would find another." Cryosanthia holds her hand out, hovering it over the old elf's arm, implying she's restraining without actually doing so. "One would stay fresh though, if cut, through tonight? I think a rose might be of use."
"If it's that faded, they may have come through already or it gets much stronger once it is used." Cryo says, walking closer to the bushes. She's keeping a careful watch on the ground, she doesn't want to step on anything.
The girl completely ignores Pelka, and it is clear that she's not really /looking/ at Lysos either. She's looking at the garden, all over the garden. Her eyes don't really properly settle. "I am Sephielia." An answer, one that was, given her oddity perhaps not really expected. "They are coming. Look! My friends are coming!" She points excitedly at the air... but there doesn't seem to be anything there. As you look to see what the girl is looking at however she makes a beline for the balcony. Making to throw herself off of it.
GAME: Zapolklnex rolls perception: (11)+5: 16 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls perception: (19)+5: 24 GAME: Mikilos rolls perception: (20)+20: 40 GAME: Merek rolls perception: (9)+25: 34
"AH! They're here. Something! A heat haze, Going there!" Cryosanthia jumps back, her hand flinging out to point towards the balcony Sephielia is diving from.
Zapolklnex noticed nothing of note, so he ended up reaching up, running his fingers along the feathers of the raven on his head, when Cryosanthia speaks up. He steps back when she does, and looks up to the balcony.
GAME: Mikilos casts Gust of Wind. Caster Level: 13 DC: 21
Mikilos had been expecting something to happen, and happen soon. The archmage is a little surprised at what exactly happens, but reacts swiftly enough. Murmuring the wizard gestures, and a blast of wind rushes from his hands, blowing laves and rose petals... and a cloud insects, ridden by a small army of tiny people.
GAME: Zapolklnex casts Floating Disk. Caster Level: 4 DC: 16
Zapolklnex pulls a hand out of his sleeves, and waves up to the balcony, creating a disc of force to give the girl extra runway if she neds it.
GAME: Lysos rolls bluff: (5)+12: 17
"Wait!" Lysos says quickly to Sephielia, her hand reaching out not to grab.. but to implore her to stop. "Those aren't the.. friends... you're looking for!"
Merek lifts up a hand while he begins to adjust goggles, then he looks between folk, "This is why I said we might need to put someone in place to guard!" With that, he begins maneuvering about so he can wait beneath the balcony.
"You can't go that way!" Pelka protests. He reaches out his own hands - only he does try to grab the girl, doing his best to wrap both of his own taloned digits around her upper arm and hold her in place. "Elves don't even /have/ wings!"
The gust of wind stalls the 'heat wave' in its tracks, pushing the tiny people that Mikilos can see backwards, but these are not natural insects, or your ordinary tiny people and a mere gust of wind is not enough to stay them for long. They have their own magic, and it twists the wind back to its natural course and you /all/ hear the tiny cheer of victory as they rush forward... Until Pelka grabs the girl and holds her back from the balcony and landing on Zapolklnex's disk. "Let me go! Let me go to my friends." She might be small, but she struggles in his grasp, even going so far as to try and bite him to free herself.
Quite suddenly you /all/ can see the tiny fae, flying on their own or atop mounts that seem to be dragonflies, butterflies, and other insects. "Let her go, or face our wrath! The full moon is nigh and we shall have our babe!"
GAME: Merek rolls bluff: (9)+8: 17
"In the name of I, the... Queen-King of the Faeries of the Winter From The North, will ask you to stand away!" Merek says, making up things on the fly!
GAME: Mikilos casts Daylight. Caster Level: 13 DC: 22
Mikilos sighs, and gestures, the garden bursting into bright light. "And now it's daytime. I am Mikilostravia Abrioudelanarchie Mithralla, Lord of Estranillia, Archmage of the Seventh Circle. And I am willing to bargin."
As the sith-makar starts to panic because the minimal plan is falling apart, a cold calmness descends upon her, and she regains her composure. She faces the small army, individually tiny, large in number, and speaks directly to them, "The Full Moon is nigh, you are at your strength and we respect that. The babe's grandfather does not want you to have her, and we are here to protect his wishes and her. We have no wish to fight, instead, to discuss." <sylvan>
Zapolklnex backs up and certainly wlets Mikilos speak. Not trying to look intimidating or anything, just blending in.
"You again!" Pelka shrieks. There's a a hint of a predatory bird's cry in the words. But at the same time he tugs gently at the girl's arm, trying to direct her away from the edge of the balcony. "You're making things worse for her!" He snaps at the Fae that he can see now. "She could have been hurt just now! And taking her away from her grandfather is going to hurt her, whether you see it or not! Do you actually care about her, or is this all some game to you?"
"They're not your friends!" Lysos reiterates to Sephielia, stepping around her and trying to put herself between the faeries and the girl and Pelka. She raises a hand, outstretched towards the faerie swarm. "I think they're trying to steal you away, Sephielia... away from your grandfather. Away from your real friends." She doesn't understand what gobbldy-gook is spilling out of Cryo's mom's mouth.. but she can only hope it means something important.
There is a great peal of laughter from the ranks of the tiny fae as Merek declares himself queen-king and they seem near to falling out of their seats at their own amusement. They chitter amongst themselves and then one of them rises up just a little above the others. She has beautiful butterfly rings of her own and she looks at Mikilos. "You come to barter with us? You and you as well." She looks at Cryoanthia and then motions to the little people around her who grow silent save the angry buzzing of wings. "What would you give us that would be worth giving up the child?" <sylvan>
When sense needs to not make sense, Merek is about. He does look to all the laughing fae, then he sighs while he shifts his attire, beltcape sweeping a bit. He has no magic he can use safely, he will content with his ability to speak. He does look to Cryo and Mikilos. "They couldn't possibly understood my work with machines that don't do anything." He does let the diplomats do a bit of diplomacy.
GAME: Merek rolls diplomacy: (16)+25: 41 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls diplomacy: (5)+8: 13 GAME: Lanier rolls Diplomacy: (2)+4: 6 GAME: Zapolklnex rolls diplomacy: (3)+3: 6
Mikilos switches langauge fluently. "You will not take the girl from her grandfather. That is not open to negotiation. Though her willingness to go to you opens some alternative options. But there is far more to be bargained over than simply one girl. You know of the one called Endless Winter? I seek to end her." <sylvan>
"The defeat of Endless Winter, the advancement to New Spring." Cryosanthia says formally, hands clasped and low in front, her tail tucked in, she's standing tall with an inner power. Her words sound formal, respectful, "We have things to offer. I must translate for my companions." <sylvan>
She turns her head, looking at the others with a glance to see how Sephielia is holding up, is being held up. "Ok, she's willing to talk, wants to know what we'll offer instead of Sephielia, what does everyone have? And... going with, is not a good offer, I'll explain later. Come up with stuff."
Zapolklnex thinks he might want to help, but he gets too distracted by Crax to actually do anything. Just petting the bird. Which beats flipping them the bird, but only a little.
Pelka says, "What...what do we have to offer? This is ridiculous! The only thing we should be 'offering' is not to incinerate them to ash. And THEN to not track them back to where they...ah...um...where they..." his large avian eyes swivel slowly in their sockets to look sideways at Sephielia. 'Friends,' she calls them. Now he remembers. "Ah, that is. I can offer...um...well the only thing I can offer is enchanted equipment. A scarf that will let them carry twenty times as much weight as they normally could, while helping them resist all kinds of effects?" He peers at the nearest Fae. "Hmm...although for them it would be so big it might not even work as a cape. Wait! I know! Mithril! I can offer them a shirt's worth of mithril!"
GAME: Lanier rolls Knowledge/The Planes: (18)+4: 22 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls knowledge/the planes: (16)+2: 18 GAME: Merek rolls knowledge/the planes: (17)+8: 25 GAME: Merek rolls will: (8)+18: 26
That is in fact their Queen. Her name is Niceven. One would be VERY wise to not insult her as she is quite powerful. Also she's known to have a liking for Fae blood. (As in she and her people feed from it) Gifts to wee fae include a number of things, the more personal the better. They're known for stealing children to raise up, particularly if those children are special or gifted in some way.
Lysos lowers her hand, if only a little bit, taking her eyes briefly from the faerie swarm to look at the white Sith'makar. "What would they take? What do they value?" The winces a bit at Pelka's statement, though nods a little bit as if.. if not agreeing, at least understanding the sentiment. "I have.." She swallows. "I have a keepsake from my father. But it's only value is how much it means to me. Everything else I own is... common. Maybe they'd like a dance?"
Cryosanthia's is not as good a linguist as Mikilos, his skill with the language is amazing and for her it's somewhat confusing, the words come when she needs them, but so much is missing. As two negotiators are confusing, she instead switches to straight translations of what the Dawn Elf and the Fae Leader are saying, and within reason, what the adventurers are offering in exchange.
Pelka's suggestion of a firey death, for example, is not shared, but both of Lysos' offers are. She smiles at one of her suggestions, "A song and a dance might be of interest, though we would need more." The mithril is mentioned, as well as the other things spoken of.
She also cautions, "This is their Queen, please be respectful. Gifts to wee Fae include a number of things, the more personal the better. They... would want your keepsake Lysos, I think... Special and gifted children are especially desired."
Merek inhales, then he looks to Pelka, and marches up to him, then looks around, while he speaks plainly. "You, are going to be quiet, and let people that are diplomats, work on diplomacy. I am tired of people thinking that they can just step in and tell us there needs to be a fight. I am tired of people needing to fight." He then turns around while he spins towards the Fae, "Fae, we come to present gifts to you. We honor you and your Queen, Niceven. What is one little girl, when we can find you gifts, one from each of us, personal to us on a level so spiritual, that you can't truly keep away."
Lanier looks from the gathered fae back to those of this plane who have come to keep the girl safe from the fae, "The more personal the better." He then points towards Zap, "Including your blood. They feed on Fae blood, including those with traces of it like the Syl races."
Lanier turns his head back to the Queen, "Niceven Queen, we humbly request time to put together gifts in exchange for the girl." The Ranger bows his head, then takes a step back to look towards Cryosanthia, switching back to Tradespeak with a a quick flash of a grin, "Well? I have my would-be wedding ring."
Lysos looks somewhat... pained. The dance she could handle. The keepsake... The Tsuran sighs. She withdraws her outstretched hand and slowly pulls up her sleeve and pushes a couple of bracelets out of the way to start untying a thin woven band from around her wrist.
"You'll... need to tell them about the romance and the love lost, behind the ring. Make it epic and interesting." Cryosanthia advises Lanier, after she finishes translating for him. She exhales, "I have little left to give. Scales of dead friends, my clothes. Faran insists I don't offer myself again."
The white-scale sith watches Lysos as she removes the bracelets, shaking her head slowly.
The fae woman, Niceven dips in the air at Merek's proclomation, flashing a row of teeny-tiny sharp teeth at him. "We will give you time to think of gifts for us. But know that We do not give up our prizes so easily. We will want something equal in return." She turns her gaze on Mikilos. "You seek to end the Endless Winter, but big-folk are mad. They do not know what forces they deal with. One does not kill the winter. One abides it and survives it." Another flash of too-sharp teeth.
Pelka turns his head to look at Merek. His expression is unreadable - like all of his kind he doesn't have facial muscles to speak of, and his eyes tend to stay as wide as saucers at all times. But his voice seems a bit less fierce than before. "I'm not trying to start a fight," he replies. "I'm just not happy with how this is going." He shakes his head and then listens to the Fae.
Mikilos continues to speak in the slyvan tongue, but with Cryosanthia translating, it's easy enough to follow the conversation. He snorts softly. "Perhaps you abide. I am less willing to follow such simple rules. But I would first speak with the Queen of Air and Night. I would know of the Sluge, and the Wild Hunt, the True Death weapons that would end even the Immortal. The Mistrss of the White Tower -will- die, by my hand or another. Your aid will simply bring it sooner."
"I apologizee, it is just... We don't want to make an enemy of the many creatures of the Planes," Merek offers, while he looks then to the Queen, with a nod while he thinks about it, looking to people. "Are we to make our offer tonight, or wait for another night? We might not be able to keep Winter from coming, but does a gardener not shelter flowers away from it, come the spring?" He then considers a bit. Then he sighs at Mikilos' words. There's a look about, "This is all about that nice little girl that the old man wants kept safe." He steps next to the fae, protectively.
GAME: Merek rolls will: (2)+18: 20
The mage Mikilos' words cause an angry buzzing to rise from the fae whom Queen Niceven was conducting to land about the rose bushes. She turns with anger in her eyes for his phrasing and rushes toward him in a blurr of motion. "And would We not be a fool then to help you? A thousand years could pass and you would never find the true face of Winter. The Slaugh might give you a weapon forged from the bones of their own people and it would do you no good because you would never find it's /heart/. You speak of the Queen of Air and Darkness, but you have no concept of who she is. You speak of the Slaugh but you do not know their flesh. You speak of the Wild Hunt but it does not speak to your bones. You are one of the Lost Ones and We wonder if you have come to trade at all or merely to trick us into giving you information."
Niceven refers to Mikilos as one of the Lost Ones which elves might understand to refer to the Ancient Time when the elves chose to leave the realm of the fae behind.
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls diplomacy: (17)+8: 25 GAME: Lanier rolls diplomacy: (15)+4: 19
Cryosanthia translates as quickly as she can. The Queen and Mikilos' statements are rendered into tradespeak for the others, but it's clear she wants to interject and is rushing through it. Every time she's on the verge, more words fly and she struggles to catch up again. Once there is a breather, she takes a second, inhales and concentrates on feeling powerful, feeling confident, feeling assured and in control. There is only one individual that is all those things to her, one of long association. The body language isn't perfect, but in her white clothes, with white scales, the sith-makar radiates a strong impression of the Fae Queen Salina.
She speaks, formally and respectfully, but as an equal to Queen Niceven, even down to using the Royal 'we'. "Observe us. We are winter. We have endured and escaped. We have lost much to Endless Winter, our memories, our child. We almost lost our love of cold things, the gleaming purity, the preservation of by ice. We understand winter even if we can't remember all. We know spring must follow. We have offered trade and will, when we can gather something worthy. We would speak with the King of Light and Illusion."
Rather than Cryosanthia translating her words, Lanier translates the words into tradespeak for her, placing emphasis on all the right words, though the manner in which he delivers them belies that the translation does no justice. Even his decorum and posture as he translates the speach lend something ephemeral and almost reverential to the words spoken in Sylvan by the Sith-makar.
GAME: Merek rolls knowledge/the planes: (15)+8: 23
Mikilos nods in agreement. "Yes. There is much I do not know. Much I have yet to learn. That is why I came. To learn, to bargin. I have told you what I desire. I will not hide my motivations. I wish to protect the girl child and her grandfather, but I did not know of them before this night. They are not center to my path, though I will not pass them idly by. I see here and oppertunity to learn things I do not know. I would not have that chance pass by focused on but one goal. So, put plainly, will we speak after the matter of the child is finished, regardless of that outcome?"
Lysos has untied her woven band, but holds it clenched in her fist. Hoping she doesn't have to relinquish it, but glancing at the girl Pelka is holding back to remind her of why she'd be giving it up. She otherwise refrains from commenting; this meeting has gone far, far beyond anything she understands.
Merek looks then to Mikilos, then something about everything mentioned, even while he listens to Cryo. It all seems to be a bit much for him. He was trying to let himself fall into the water, into the night, the sith-makar would remember. And now something about it all seems to come to a point. He steps between the group, while he looks to the party. "This is about the girl, this is why we brought her into this, to make her better, now to protect them." He does look to the Queen, "I will offer whatever you want of me, to protect the girl. I wouldn't pretend to know all the knowledge of the world. Ask what you wish and I will bring."
GAME: Merek rolls diplomacy: (18)+25: 43
The little queen buzzes in the air. "If you have something worthy to give for the information, then regardless of how negotiations go with the child We will speak again." She turns her gaze on the rest of you and finally she flashes her teeth at Merek. "Promise us your firstborn child then, in place of the one that We give up now. Promise that you will give your own flesh and blood to us and We will relent here."
GAME: Merek rolls reflex: (11)+11: 22
"Deal," Merek offers, before anyone can try to make him stand away.
Mikilos blinks at the demand, blinks again at Merek's swift acceptance. "....is there a reason no one is offering the obvious solution instead?"
Cryosanthia stares at Merek as he makes his offer. He has been acting strange. He's another friend she's neglected because she was too preoccupied with herself. She can't imagine making that offer, and it pulls too many things she hasn't dealt with to the surface. Her icy demeanor, her strength, her power and poise, it all crumbles and her eyes go dark as her pupils spread wide.
"This one... this one needs a moment." The sith-makar backs away, turns way, far enough no one can hear the noises she's making. She sinks into a crouch, close to the ground.
Lanier seems surprised, but ultimately unconcerned at the deal that had just been made by Merek. He shakes his head reufully for a moment, then looks towards Niceven, "Does this deal satisfy you, Niceven Queen?"
Mikilos sighs. "Really? I know I'm a genius, but I really thought it was obvious..." He looks to the Tiny Queen. "You wish the child, yes?"
He looks to Sephielia. "And you wish to go with them?"
He turns to the old man. "And you, finally, wish to be with your grand daughter?"
He sighs again. "There's no reason you can't do all three." He turns back to Niceven. "We let you take the child, but you take the her kin as well. Care for them both, as best you are able, and I forsee no further complications."
Zapolklnex takes some time to think. Once again scritching his raven, he considers what he could possibly offer. He doesn't exactly have... valued possessions of great emotional importance. All of those were left behind long ago. He has Crax, but they could never be parted. Fortunately Mikilos comes up with an idea, and he listens to see how everyone reacts.
The fae queen buzzes happily, but warily looks at Mikilos as he makes his suggestion. "We would rather not have to care for some feeble old Lost One. We are satisfied to take the promised offspring of this one." She motions toward Merek. "Promised offspring are always gifted, and always sweet." Again she flashes sharp teeth in a way that is... not exactly comforting. She motions to Merek again, flying closer to him. "Give us your hand and We will taste your blood and it shall be your bond."
Lysos frowns... well, if a frown made noise, hers would be loud. "You can't!" she blurts out at Merek. "You have no right to make that decision for your child!" Apparently she feels strongly about that for some reason.
Pelka looks at Merek as if seeing him for the first time. Is he a pacifist? Pelka understands there are a few of those to be found in Alexandria. Someone so opposed to fighting that they'll give up almost anything to avoid it...
Merek looks over to the party in thoughnt, then it seems like he thinks about it. The man does consider Lysos a moment, then he looks to the Queen, then the old man if he is still about, "Would he even want that, away in a world away from the place they know? I've seen the way things are for folk in the Fae's care. It's okay, when the time comes for that, I will come with the Fae along with that kid possibly." He does wait to see if the old man offers any thoughts, if he doesn't though, he will present with Niceven.
"Mikilos'... best idea." Cryosanthia says, her words warbling. She breathes hard, grabbing at the ground. "Don't Merek. It's heartless. You don't know what you're offering. Your partner! It's your..." She loses her voice again.
GAME: Merek rolls will: (6)+18: 24
Lanier frowns, he leans to reach out to try and pat Cryosanthia on the shoulder consolingly, "I agree, and I'm sorry, but it looks like the fool made his decision and he'll have to pay the consequences." He looks back up towards Merek, shaking his head slowly.
The old elf has been watching all of this in a state of complete loss, clearly unable to follow the events as they unfold perhaps a bit too quickly. Still he moves forward and grabs Merek's arm and holds him tightly. "You don't know what you're offering son. I won't have you give up your wife's child for my granddaughter. You don't know yet what it's like to look into your son's eyes and know that you're the world to him. To know that your whole future is bound up in something so small and perfect." His eyes are weighted by tears and he will try to stop Merek from making his offer. "I won't give up my granddaughter, but you shouldn't have to offer up your future for mine."
Merek looks between the old elf, as well as the girl, while he lifts up his brow a bit. He doesn't move the hand while it's within the old man's. There's a look to the Fae Queen, then he nods a bit, "I have a question in that case. Would you care for the old man if he does come with the girl? What will things be like with you? What do you plan?" He doesn't want to make the offer. Still, he needs to know if them taking the old man with the daughter might be possible. "You ask for what is personal, but do you know there are things even more important than things like that?"
GAME: Merek rolls diplomacy: (3)+25: 28
Cryosanthia looks up at Lanier, petting her. Her shoulder is hard, all her muscles are. She's tense, trying to get herself undercontrol with her breathing. Her eyes are black. She echoes the old elf's words, "He doesn't know how much it will hurt." There's a quiet, low keening coming from her, a moan of sorts, one she keeps trying to interrupt with a song, but that fails as well.
Pelka has a sudden thought. He tears his gaze from Merek and turns to look at Sephielia for a moment, to make sure she doesn't try anything that might spoil the negotiations. He's no longer sure which way things are going but almost anything, he reasons, might spoil these particular negotiations.
Mikilos keeps quiet. He's said his piece, this bit is out of his hands now.
Lysos doesn't hear much of what's being said down on the ground.. the softer comments just don't make it up to her. But she hears enough. "Do you have any idea what it's like to be a child whose father gave her away? Are children nothing more than.. than.. than.. bargaining chips? Commodoties to trade away?"
The fae queen buzzes irritably. "A few words from the Lost One and you reconsider?" She huffs and eyes Mikilos as if he had ruined her plan. "We do not /want/ him. We want the firstborn." She doesn't /quite/ answer the question that Merek poses. Not really. But after a moment she puts her hands on her hips. "If you /insist/ We will take the old man and he can... be a gardener for our gardens."
Merek looks then to Lysos, "Not like I want to," he says, then he nods a bit to the old man. "It is up to you, you can be with the girl while gardening." He does wait to see if he will accept that. Still, he looks like he didn't want to give them both to the Fae. That to him might be as difficult as well as personal than what was asked of him.
The white-scaled sith-makar rises to her feet, turns and gives Lanier an unexpected hug. Her pupils are still quite wide, but the blue of her eyes show around them. It makes her look cute, although her overal demeanor is sad. She turns to face, and watch, the on-going negotiations, her hands curling in the cloth of her robes and holding tight. Her tail drags. Her breathing is very, very regular.
Pelka turns away from Sephielia and looks at her grandfather. Slowly he turns his head to face in different directions, watching the reactions of the party.
Lanier's eyebrows raise as he's hugged unexpectedly. He reaches out gingerly, patting Cryosanthia on the back, "There there... We win some, we lose some. It's a normal part of living." He takes a step back, looking back towards the negotiation with a stone-faced glare.
The old elvish man drops his hand and then finally nods. "I suppose... that's the only choice is it not? I can not say that I want such a thing, but it is better than you giving up a future you do not know, or them taking my granddaughter away." He turns to face the queen of the tiny fae and looks at her. "Will... someone translate that I agree? That I will go with them when they... they take my granddaughter away?"
Cryosanthia moves away from the negotiations, underneath the balcony where Lysos and Pelka are. If Sephielia falls she'll have someone to land on or catch her. It's only a dozen feet away, but she needs the distance and manages to resume her translations. She's quite automatic about it, any inflection or interesting tones the Fae are using are lost. Merek's words, when he's speaking Sylvan, are particularly hard for her. She also repeats some of the tradespeak, in case it's missed above.
At the old elf's request, she calls out, "Mikilos, please, would you... say his acceptance."
Mikilos nods, and turns his focus back to the Queen, speaking Sylvan. "He is willing to accept your offer. I assume the girl is as well, though I assume she can speak for herself well enough. For my part, I had no intention to disrupt your negotiations. I simply wished to clarifiy if there was something I had missed."
Pelka loosens his grip on the girl's upper arm. He opens and closes his talons a few times, as if they're tired. "Sorry," he whispers to her in the faintest of whispers. He rubs at the spot on her arm where he was holding her. He has a contraption or two that could generate curative energy, but something tells him now might not be the time.
"What? No. No!" Lysos shakes her head. Though she doesn't grab for Sephielia as Pelka releases the girl, she does grip the balcony railing so she can lean over a bit and really look down at everyone. "So this is it? We just give in to their.. what.. demands? Just because they won't accept anything else?" She pauses for breath, then adds, "If this is the price for whatever it is the rest of you are looking for... well, I know some of you think it's worth it."
Zapolklnex looks to Lysos, his face barely visible beneath the hood though, bird still on his head. "I've been thinking but can come up with no alternatives I could offer. You?"
Merek nods a bit while he thinks about it.
The moment that the girl is released she starts forward only to be blocked by Lysos. She tugs on Lysos' shirt and looks at her with pleading eyes. "My friends!"
Below the little fae queen buzzes and nods. "Release the girl then, and We will take her to Underhill with us." She nods to Mikilos. "As soon as our buisness is done of course."
Continuing to look over the negotiation, Lanier finally seems to have had enough of it. He walks forward, coming into a respectable distance from the wee fae and falling to a knee as he proceeds to speak in a very exact Sylvan, "Queen Niceven, please listen to me. This man does not want to go with you. He's being forced out of loyalty to his granddaughter. You are taking slaves, and that can't be a good thing, even on your plane. Please, I know how much your people appreciate things of high sentiment. I offer two things to you in their place." He takes a deep breath, his face darkening, "First, I offer my sole companion, Spud, provided you will give him a good life on your plane until he reaches his natural end. Second..." He reaches into a pocket, removing a gold ring that looks to have seen better days. He reaches out, offering it to the Queen, "And this token. I am not a very social man. As a ranger, I live a life very far away from civilization, and my business protecting the natural areas from encroaching predators is a time consuming one. This is a symbol of the potential for lasting companionship in my life, and without this, there's not much for me going forward. Please, take this symbol of that bargain and my best friend in this world. Hold the former in high regard, and treat the later well, and then call this deal done."
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d6: (3): 3 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d6: (1): 1 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls acrobatics+3: (16)+9+3: 28 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls athletics+1: (11)+8+1: 20
Cryosanthia looks up at the balcony, then the features of the house. She makes a leap upwards, kicks off the wall, twists in the air and grabs the bottom of the balcony and flips herself up, whipping her tail and lands beside Lysos, Pelka and Sephielia. She crouches, touching the young elf's shoulder. "Do you understand what's going on? They want to take you and your grandfather. He will be their servant. You will be theirs, owned."
She tries to get her attention, leaning close, making small humming noises. Even as she does, she speaks to the others, "I have scales of lost friends, I have a song I can perform, but I can't lose more memories. This won't be enough, with your Bracelet, still not enough. Lanier's, is very good. Pelka, Zap, if you have something... together it might..."
Mikilos nods, and steps off to the side, near the roses, where he takes a seat on the ground. Setting aside the basket from earlier, the elf opens up the lid, gestureing absently to the sweet rolls inside for the other fae in the bushes. They've gone cold, no longer oven hot, but they are fresh. "A token offering, for all of you." He also open his pack, taking out a number of items... more than could easily fit inside.
Zapolklnex gawks at Lanier when he steps up to make that offer. A hand reflexively goes to Crax, fingers gently caressing feathers. HE speaks quietly in Sildanyari "I know you could never do that, and neither could I."
Lysos looks at Sephiela and shakes her head slowly.. not prohibitively, but in a sort of denial. And then Cryosanthia not-quite-levitates up to the balcony with her and Pelka. She immediately makes room for the woman; she's starting to get used to how to properly behave around... larger folk. And still something nags... but she shakes her head, seeing that the white sith isn't there to carry the girl down, and turns back to witness Lanier's presentation to the fae queen. She quickly presents her bracelet, forcing herself not to look at it.
Merek does offer a few personal keepsakes, though he doesn't speak a lot.
The fae queen dips in the air, and you realize that this is a gesture of shock for her at Lanier's proposal. "You offer things that are yours to give, strong gifts indeed." She moves forward enough that she is almost touching Lanier's ring. Close enough to sniff it and then pull back with a sharp-toothed grin. "We will accept if you /all/ make offerings to us. Gifts that must be as fitting a tribute as what you have offered. We will accept your ring, but not your companion. The ring is enough. As for you Lost One. Your meal is worthy of my people, and so We will accept on their behalf." She flits to the old man.
"I offer you roses that can not be cut. As many as you can take with you, and milk laid out on my windowsill by my granddaughter every full-moon for all the days of her life." He looks at the fae queen with tears in his eyes and she nods as though this is acceptable then flits over to the next person to await what they will offer up.
"This is a family keepsake," Merek says, while he offers a pendant. "It has been with the family of mine." He smiles a bit, with a nod while he looks to the Fae. That's the gift he will offer.
Pelka gives a start at the pendant. He reaches around his neck and under his scarf. His fingertips part feathers and grasp a string, which he tugs up and over his head to reveal a pendant. It's made by hand, long faded, but with an amulet on it's end that has the tellate design of artifice. He plucks this off and offers the band instead. "This is my own keepsake," he explains in Sylvan. "It wasn't made by family, but it's the last thing I have left from my own home, from where I grew up." He hesitates and then glances at the rest of the party. "They're all fine," he quickly confirms, switching momentarily to Tradespeak. "Just...this just reminds me of them. It's why I wear it."
Cryosanthia watches Lysos hold out her bracelet, knowing the significance, remembering all the times she's been told how important parents are to humans. Lanier's sacrifice touches her as well, future happiness. Her understanding of the nature of Fae makes her suspect not just the symbol will be taken, but somehow, the opportunity will. He has committed himself to being alone forever. Pelka's also speaks to her, memories of home. She removes the small bag she wears around her neck and stands
"Queen Niceven, I have two things to offer. My first mission ended in disaster. We were captured and everyone with me died. These are scales from each of them, to honour their memory, and a hope that some of them might be brought back. That I could save them, despite everything. A faint hope, but still. I will give that up and live with the guilt of failing them and bargaining them. I have so little left. The other things I can offer is a song. Your wee folk taught me a song of..."
Her voice breaks, she has difficulty with the words, "... of Winter turning to Spring. It's very beautiful, it gives me hope as well, that things will be ok. I will sing it for you, as best I can, and then never sing it again. So I will trade hope for hope, though mine are so dear to me. Are either of these of interest?"
Zapolklnex refolds his arms in his sleeves. He remains standing where he is, both he and the raven staring at the offerings made, and at the fairy, but making no move.
The queen moves among you, sometimes she seems vaguely dispeased with an offering, but others... others make her wings flap excitedly and she seems eager for them. At least until she comes to Zapolklenex. Him she eyes with interest, hovering there waiting paitently and then when he says nothing she moves in, her little guard at her side looking at everyone as if he'd willingly fight you /all/ to the death if need be. "What do you offer then Lost One? Your companions have made wonderous offerings fit for a Queen, We are excited now to hear what you might give."
Zapolklnex points to the sky, and the bird flies up, out of the way, landing on the roof. This lets him pull his hood back, and he looks coldly at her. "Lying, slaving scum like you have already taken everything from me, and my people. I don't trust you, I will not bow to you. I will teach people for the rest of my days that you, and your people, deserve nothing but hatred and death. You are not a queen. You are a worm."
Mikilos pulls a few small glasses out of his bag. Small for craetures like him, but fairly large for the tiny fae. The wizard had different expectations of 'Wee Ones'. Zap's word draw a look and an arched brow... but honesty is good, right? Right?
Lanier places the gold ring down on the ground in front of him, takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. He picks his head up, looking towards Zapolklnex and cringes. He considers something for a moment and then says, "Queen Nicevem, that one carries an enormous pain for his people within him. He has nothing to give you but hate, but I don't think it's his fault. Please accept his gift."
Lanier narrows his eyes, translating what he just said into the Tradespeak. He doesn't move off his knees, however.
Hovering in the air the fae queen veritably /vibrates/ with anger. While it seems that she has not been /speaking/ tradespeak it's suddenly clear that she can /understand/ it. Still she looks at Zapolklnex, eyeing him. "He has a great deal of that indeed. If he is willing to give it up to us then We will accept it as our gift." She flashes a mouth full of sharp angry teeth. "Otherwise We will accept his blood as tribute."
Zapolklnex remains motionless for a moment, folding his arms again. Waiting for the translation, he inhales. "Look at you. Listen to you. You feel hurt. You feel wronged. You feel like you don't deserve what I just said. That pain is what you choose to inflict on everyone else here, for no reason. That makes you evil. Turn from evil, and make yourself a better person."
Lysos rubs at her wrist, displacing the other bracelets there. And she watches the Queen and Zapolklnex.. not even sure which way to lean there. Because she really can't disagree with anything the shadow elf is saying.
Cryosanthia obviously understands the tradespeak and sylvan. She looks at the mul'niessa, then at the Fae Queen, then back, "Zapolklnex, you're an adventurer. This one can't force you to make a choice, but we are here to save the girl and save her grandfather, then save Alexandria. Queen Niceven has information that will assist with the last, and we need a solution for the first. There will be other opportunities if this falls through, be it a year, two years, a decade. Some of us here have given up a lot already in this battle. You don't have to, it's your choice. Hold onto your hate. Choose selfishness. Stick to your principles. It's fine, I know paladins, they are frustrating. We'll adapt and move on if we fail here. However, we will remember, that we had a path forward and you weren't willing to walk it."
Lanier carefully watches the conversation between the Queen and Zapolklnex, nodding his head slowly as the dark Elf's rudeness is set aside by the fae, only to have the dark elf once again lay into the fae they are trying to come to an accord with. For the briefest of moments, there is bloody murder in the eyes of the ranger until Cryosanthia steps in. Overt rage is replaced with something more seething, but within Lanier, controlable.
Mikilos pops open a glass bottle, pouring out a small drinking into a wide assortment of glasses. "Frost berry wine. They leave the berries to hang until the first frost kills them, them harvest them off the frozen vines. Makes the resulting wine extra sweet, though it loses some of the flavor. I don't have glasses for everyone, didn't expect quiet so many, so you'll have to share."
Zapolklnex whips his head to Cryosanthia. "Before we came here, you didn't tell me I Would be asked to bow and submit to an evil slaver queen. I would have declined. As an adventurer, I generally free slaves, rather than serve the slavers. You of all people know that. What exactly do you propose that I do, then?"
"This one told you we were dealing with Fae" Cryosanthia stares at Zapolklnex, "That we would be negotiating for their assistance, to meet with their rulers. To not insult them. This one was not aware you had a personal relationship with this Fae, or that she would appear. This one is unsure what further instructions I could have provided at the start, considering the unknowns. We are freeing the slaves by giving her something in their place. That's saving the girl. I'll... think of something for you to do, since you've asked my advice."
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+12: (7)+12: 19 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d4+5: (3)+5: 8
Zapolklnex's comments are a little too far for the guardsman at the queen's side. As she vibrates with fury he dashes in, attacking the much larger man with his thin blade. It's a quick motion, the little guard is a blurr of motion drawing a line of blood from the mul'niessa. The man goes down from the pinprick of blood being drawn and the little warrior brings a dot of blood to his queen. She takes the blade and licks it clean before turning to the rest of you. "He'll be fine when he wakes. We appreciate your gifts and will take them in the spirit they are meant to be taken." She flies hurriedly over to Mikilos and her people break into song and dance, and merry jubilation at the concept of being fed Mikilos's meal.
"You wished a trade for information Lost One."
While she speaks to Mikilos, her guardsman moves among you collecting the offerings that you made to the queen.
Merek looks then to Zapolklnex, while he nods a bit, then looks to the Queen. He seems to be satisfied with people coming from that safe. The man doesn't like to offer his sentimental, although that's a lot better with him than any of the Fae that are about trying to take the gal.
Lysos sucks in her breath, not so much a gasp as an inhalation, as the small faerie warrior strikes at Zapolklnex, and she stiffens when she sees the shadow elf fall. The Queen's assurance that he will be alright is taken... she does see his chest rising. "He wasn't wrong," she says quietly from her position up on the balcony. "But you going with them wasn't right either," Lysos says to Sephiella. Hoping the girl understands, fearing she won't. Then she looks up at the white Sith'makar.. and almost asks. Almost. She turns away, though.. perhaps the moment isn't right to be curious.
Mikilos nods. "There's much I don't know. We have gathered much, and can attack the Endless Winter. But if she merely returns, Immortal, our efforts mean little. I would learn of the other Kings and Queens, their views. If they support the Endless Winter, simple endure, or care to strike, but are bound or unknowing. I would learn of True Death weapons, that could strike down an Immortal." The wizard falls quiet a moment. "I am a weaponsmith. The knowledge of a new type of weapon intrests me well beyond it's practical uses." He sighs. "Anyway, I do not know all that I don't know, nor what things you know that can be told. I am a craftsman, I typically make what others desire. In your case... I'm not sure what to offer. Ask, and I will negotiate."
Cryosanthia is taken by surprise by the fae guard's actions, and watches at the mul'niessa slumps. She looks at Lysos as she speaks, then returns to looking at Queen Niceven. She misses the human's questionning look.
When it comes time to collect her song, she puts heart and soul into singing it. This was a hope she wanted to keep, she wanted both of them, but this song was healing some of her wounds, melting the ice and losing it leaves regret which she tries to fill with nobility of giving it up. Still, some of the observations about dealing with slavers, sour the thoughts she tries to console herself with.
From his knee, the Green Warden looks over his shoulder and calls out, "Spud!" From within the house, at his spot where he was guarding the door, Spud comes rushing down the stairs, out of the house, and up to Lanier. Reaching up and out, the Ranger pats the wolf between the shoulder blades and says, "Sorry, Spud. I tried to get you a nicer gig on another plane but it seems you're still stuck with me." Standing his way back up to his feet, and without a word to his companions, Lanier says a simple, "C'mon, let's go get some food." They both begin walking down the path away from the house where the granddaughter who narrowly avoided a fate being raised by the fae lives with the grandfather who moved mountains to get a team of adventurers to stare down the fae queen and bargain their way out of this at great personal expense of their own.
All in a day's work.
The queen sits herself beside Mikilos, dangling her feet off of a rose. Some of her people are eating the roses that grow here, others are feasting on the food that Mikilos brought. "We will negotiate then. You are one of the Lost Ones, so We will begin with an offering. An offering of a drink of your blood every moon for the rest of your days." She blinks at him and licks her lips. "We will take it by means of an offering-bowl on an alter in your home."
Mikilos considers, and leans back to his bag, ifshing aorund a few moments before pulling out a large silver bowl, it's edges etched with runes of divination, and an ornate blade. And a few simple cloth bandages. "I intend for 'the rest of my days' to be a very long time. But I cannot in good faith make such a deal. The blood unto itself... perhaps. But I cannot, will not, be certain I can be around each moon to make the offering."
He sighs, and pulls a small bottle out from his bag. "Fire pepper wine... really more of a mead. i have no idea if you like spicy foods and drinks, but I do. I made this as an experiment some time back. I can't say it ended as I hoped, but it's drinkable, and certainly warms the belly... and mouth....throat... all the way down, really. But this is the last bottle I made. I might try make something else some day, but never again will it be my first batch."
Lysos turns away from the partying queen and her minions, looking at Sephielia. "You know.. now is probably a good time to get some rest. What do you think? I have some stories I could tell if you want." She has no idea how hard the girl may or may not be taking not getting to go with her 'friends' now.
"This one was thinking the same." Cryosanthia says, listening with a growing horror at what the Fae Queen is asking for, and marvelling at the adept deflections the wizard is making. Mikilos is truly in his element with these negotiations, and she's feeling like she would have mis-stepped ten times already. "Pelka, Lysos, Let's get Zap, and everyone inside, so there's less for her to see and think to ask for. Sephielia, her Grandfather, out of sight."
The girl looks at her friends and then at Lysos. She hadn't even heard Cyrosanthia before. "I'm not going with my friends?" She yawns. "Stories sound nice." The grandfather too is glad to be hurried inside away from the fae party happening in his back yard.
"Mmmm the first of something is a generous gift, but We think only for /one/ question. Not the many you have. Why should We offer many answers for one thing?" She eyes the bowl and the knife with sharp interest. "A drink for every question then, but you must come to a circle yourself so that We may taste it with our own lips. Once a year until your debt is repaid or you die and remain dead."
Mikilos considers a few moments, and nods. "I will need know which circles to come to. And though I act in good faith, I have been bound before." He rubs absently at his shoulder, where the snowflake was carved into his flesh. "What should happen if I am bound again, and cannot come?"
Light burns in the queens eyes, as if she suspects that victory is in her grasp. "We will tell you where to go, and how to call us there. If you miss your year, and do not come, then you must make two offerings, and so on and so forth. Every year you do not come you must come an extra year." She smiles at him with her sharp teeth. "This is fair no?" She sniffs and eyes his shoulder then wiggles slightly. "Or you can let us mark you so and We can come to you whereever you may be." She doesn't seem to like the sound of this however.
Pelka steps off of the balcony and glides down next to Zap. He reaches down and takes the Mul's forearm with one hand, the other adjusting his scarf. He flashes a look at the nearest Fae as if to say 'this could have been you' before lifting Zap onto his shoulders and carrying him where directed in a fireman's carry. Once inside he'll ready his deathray and stay inside, guarding, in case any of the Fae change their mind.
Lysos knows she's in waaay over her head here, so she nods once to Cryosanthia after giving her another odd look, then shepherd's the girl back into her room to settle in her bed and lull her to sleep with stories told to her by her grandmother. Stories about anything but faeries.
Merek seems to be a bit within his thoughts, while he listens to the conversation. When the gal would be safe, that is when he seems a bit like the interest in the place is withdrawn a little. He shifts his longcoat with the beltcape, a nod offered to the Queen.
The white-scaled sith-makar follows Lysos in, to where Sephielia is being tucked in. Someplace out of line of sight from the rose-bushes. Curtains will be closed if necessary. She gets a chair, reversing it so it will accomodate her tail and she can lean on the back, and listens to Lysos' stories.
When those start to run out, she has plenty of her own, though they are often about dragons, or the pluckiest little youngling. She seems very good at this storytelling, well practiced and warm, and her spirits lift as she gets into it.
Mikilos nods in acceptance. "I'm not fond of being marked, but thank you for the offer." He holds his arm over the bowl. "If you prefer to make the cut yuorself, that is acceptable. If you know the crafting of True Death Blades, I would know of that. If not, then I would know the time and place to visit one who does. I am of the impression the Queen of Air and Dark is the most versed in such matters."
The fae queen does not take the bowl, or the knife, or indeed seem to be armed herself. Instead she lifts from the rose and hovers over to Mikilos. Flitting closer she watches him carefully, only to dart forward to land on his hand suddenly and without warning. She gives a little sniff and encircles a finger of his hand with her delicate arms and looks at him. "It will grow /cold/ in a bowl. We will take the offering directly."
Only Merek remains to watch the little queen take her offering of blood with her own sharp teeth and fly away again, happily buzzing her butterfly-wings over to the roses with slow drunken laziness. Mikilos has questions, and she will answer them now, or at least... as many as she chooses to.
GAME: Merek rolls perception: (13)+25: 38
Merek listens to the stories best he can while he waits about, when the deal looks finished along with answers, working that way about to the place where everyone else is about.
Mikilos schools himself to remain still, not delightly with having a tiny crature drinking his blood, but accepting of the deal he made.
At the back of Cryo's head, where her horns come to a point, her mind is working. Some of the overheard things, with a little tweaking, wouldn't be as bad. Clandestine meetings with a Fae Queen in the woods, romantic scarification, lovers pledging themselves to each other, forever, or at least for a very long time. A hero's sacrifice. Oh yes! She takes out a notebook and starts scribbling. The Crimson Pen shall have new features... featuring Mikilos! Love-lorn and love-torn, it will be an intriguing new alternative to the Kol-Mikilos viginettes.
Scribble, scribble, scribble.
