Griva, Guess what we found?
Log Info
- Title: Griva, Guess what we found?
- Emitter: Cryosanthia, Whirlpool
- Characters: Cryosanthia, Braelnoir, Aya, Edinaz
- Place: A07: Fernwood Pub
- Time: Monday, January 18, 2021, 7:45 PM
- Summary: Cryosanthia and Braelnoir, in disguise, are searching Alexandria for Mikilos and take a break in the Fernwood to rest and get some food. After asking the servers to keep an eye out, the pair remove their disguises. Griva, Resurrectionist Extraordinaire arrives, along with Aya and soon Edinaz. Cryo beckons them over and explains they have found something wonderous, a house that teleports through the Planes! Oh yeah, and an Animus shard. The adventurers explain to Griva the circumstances, the sacrifice and the struggle to come back with Zaya and the Shard. Griva asks Cryo to place it in the Temple of Eluna; Cryo refuses, citing all the times she has seen the Temples overwhelmed by evil entities and their security breached. She simply does not trust faceless authority and institutions to 'handle it'. She insists Adventurers are the only ones capable of defending it, even though she admits she and her friends aren't up to the task and are relying heavily on security through obscurity and mobility. Whether a God directly should be entrusted with the Shard is raised, and rejected by Griva. Finally, the adventurers re-visit some of Zaya's behaviour, and describe why they thought some other entity was in the shard and how they feel protective of him, her, it now for various reasons. Griva has to go, and leaves, asking them to reconsider the Temple without expanding on any of the other options that were available.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-<* A07: Fernwood Pub *>--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
The common room of the Fernwood Pub dominates the inn, spacious and airy because of the high, vaulted ceiling. Ornately carved beams of dark, polished wood form a lattice overhead, supporting the arched roof two storeys above the floor. To the right of the double-door entry is a spiral staircase, winding upwards to a balcony that rings and overlooks the main area. Large windows at this level grant an excellent view of the river to the west and colorful market stalls to the north and east. An air of coziness is salvaged by keeping the pub dimly lit; parchment-shrouded mana lanterns hang at intervals from the base of the balcony, nestled amongst lush, magically propagated ivy and ferns that grow over this false demi-ceiling and the struts that support it.
The bar is sleek and simple, comprised of meticulously polished black lacquer. Tables are set under the darker niches formed by the balcony floor as well as on the balcony itself. A few are deliberately sized to accommodate halflings and gnomes, but the majority are meant for human-sized individuals. A large common table is on the main floor, set before a semi-circular stage situated against the western wall. Beside it, with pipes mounted upon the wall and running up past the balcony and almost to the ceiling, is a refurbished pipe organ made to look like the one lost when the Fernwood was destroyed during the Merkabah Siege.
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-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Appearing, in Order -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Braelnoir 5'11" 146 Lb Human Female A tall, pale Acanian woman, branded in silver. Cryosanthia 6'9" 291 Lb Sith-Makar Female A dashingly tall, elegant white-scaled lizard woman. Aya 4'7" 105 Lb Shadow Elf Female Mul'niessa. Braided hair. Simple clothing. Edinaz 6'10" 296 Lb Half-Orc Male Grey-skinned half-oruch, extensive black ink. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Noteable NPCs -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Griva Dwarf Female Ressurectionist Extroidinaire! -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- As the GM -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Whirlpool Otyugh I am stinky! -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
It's cold outside. A harsh westerly wind, charcoal clouds, crisp air. There were flurries earlier, but they didn't last long and only dampened the ground.
Inside the Fernwood, warmth and frienship, good food and old memories. It is roughly half full of patrons.
The door opens and a sith'makar slips in. He, or she is short, stocky, roughly six feet tall with heavy footfalls and a slight limp. Greenscaled, with black stripes that widen to the back leaving it primarily that colour except for two subdued stripes. The pattern is mostly hidden by a heavy stormcloak, the hood is pulled back.
The sith'makar looks around, picks out a seat in the corner of the room with a good view of the tavern, and heads that way. A single finger signal is made with a raised hand to no one in particular, but one would recognize it.
Following after is another figure shrouded in furs, for all the good it does the scythewielder to remain icognito within her own limited means. The door is allowed to close behind her and she follows the sith toward the table without a gesture of any kind. Her landing into a seat with back to the wall and an eye on the entrances is almost spitefully boneless. Like her scale sister, the Korite's been quiet, but this has been a lasting state, and one accompanied by a storm, eating itself from the tailtip forward.
The sith'makar glances around then reaches up and removes a wooden mask. It's an elaborate carved affair, shaped for draconic lines, and with a lot of holes drilled in it. Various facial features are represented and removable, eyebrows, noses, eyes, ears, of various races.
As the mask comes off, the sith switches from a blocky shape to a taller, lithe whitescale. She exhales, a small cloud of cold air hovering in front of her. She watches the room also.
"The Mistake and the Demon tested my ability relax under constant observation and threat, this one is used to all eyes on her, but wishes they were more favourabe. Apologies, for the winding route here."
Braelnoir takes the disparation of Cryo's guise with barely a batted eye, though she does lean the scythe against the wall head-down beside her and unhooks her crossbow. A bolt is lain on the table, and the Mercenary puts a foot into the loading stirrup, "Yeah." With a firm grip and a creak, she draws the weapon to cocked position, then lays the bolt in place, "Anyone wants a fight'll find it."
The whitescale reaches out, resting her hand on Braelnoir's forearm. She has no visible weapons but her buckler is out and strapped on her other arm. "Thanks for meeting. How are you holding up, have you noticed anything strange since we returned?"
She snakes her head closer, eyes fixed on the Korrite's face, "are you ok with coming back?"
Braelnoir's eyes close at the touch to her arm, the winter furs obscuring the changes from the battle days past.
The woman isn't verbal for some seconds, aligning her thoughts, perhaps, but of the two questions, the answer she puts forth, "Arm's all scaley, now.... wrong texture, shiny... but red, like bloody copper'r somethin'." comes in a troubled murmur.
The gut punch of the second question had rippled subtly across her face, adding light to the cocktail of simmering anger, frustration and rekindled grief she's been coaching from her expression since their trip to Kor's realm.
"They are nice looking scales." Cryo tries to sound encouraging. They are scales, they aren't the beautiful silver scales from before, "Red is good. Reds are the deadliest and most dangerous of dragons. Coppers are good, actually Good."
"We'll get back. You'll get back. Just have to find Mikilos. He wasn't at his place, I guess he's with Griva. So, find her, maybe a couple others."
She signals one of the servers, "A drink? Or do you want to keep the edge on?"
"Wouldn't stop, luv." Brae replies quietly, and she shakes her head, "Need th'edge till we're sure I ain't gotta run it through someone." She glances down at her crossbow, considers the ensorcelled spikes of her gauntlet. The emblem of Kor. Her mind goes to ....his... smile... and she shakes her head again, "I'll get there."
She closes her eyes, taking a breath, then finally looks up into Cryo's face, her amber eyes searching, "Where you at, luv?"
"Chasing my tail." Cryosanthia admits, making a swirling motion, "the same thoughts over and over, worrying about Lily, the people, what next and how to get back to the house. That would be really useful."
She shakes her head, "Well, we completed the mission, got Zaya back. That's something at least."
Clear, cold, and windy do not make for pleasant evenings out of doors. Predominantly for most would be the cold. Even for those less affected by such, the excess of wind continues to annoy. Last, there are the inordinatly bright stars a glowering full moon.
Thus, many are inclined to be indoors. Aya is among this group as she enters the Fernwood, closing the door behind her to limit the amount of hounding air that trails her inside.
"Yeah. Contract's complete." Brae replies and allows her attire to return to it's normal format as she brushes her hair back and gives the place a lookover. Just in time for the new arrival to bring in some of the chill with her. There's a shiver, and her eyes seek the doorway before she cants her head, "Hell, ain't seen her'n a bit." she notes. She raises a hand in greeting, but can't remember... honestly, if Aya's ever seen her human. Er.... mostly human. Anyway, the hailing hand then moves to gently touch Cryo, perhaps finally enough out of her own head to realize Cry's been in better places, too.
Cryo raises a hand, waving in Aya's direction, happy to see a friendly face even if hers doesn't relax her. The touch from Braelnoir helps a little, "She's been working with me, on Lily's problem. We've gotten no where. She's good."
Aya makes note of the raised hands. They gain her attention easily, as open greetings are the minority. She alters course to approach the pair, offering a nod in return once she's near. "Good eve," she notes. A caveat is added a few heartbeats later with an arched brow following a brief evaluation, "or simply eve?"
Braelnoir shrugs a bit, "Eve works, luv." she returns in a familiar enough timbre to the Mul. Don't mind the loaded crossbow beside her. There's a gesture to a free seat at the table, "Been a while, how ya been?" Question asked, though, the Korite returns her attention to the entrances.
The door to the inn opens and a dwarven woman, flanked by two obvious sellswords, walks in. It's Griva Brassbringer, Ressurectionist Extroidinaire! She's arrived here and seems quite cheerful about *something* at the moment.
She's on her way to take a seat.
Cryo straightens, focusing on Griva, her head immediately shifting to examine the sell-swords. A critical gaze, to evaluate their skill. A quick greeting follows to Aya, where she confirms, "It's an eve, but one of the tasks looks like it will resolve."
She waves at Griva, the looks around the Fernwood once more. It still seems safe. She catches one of the server's attention and gives her lookout and safe signs. There's space for the arrivals.
"Well enough," Aya responds to Braelnoir, even as her heard turns to follow Cryosanthia's shifting gaze towards the latest arrivals. "Oh? Resolution is generally a positive act..." Whether such is the case, now, she's uncertain.
Aya's rotation also places her at the proper angle to lower into one of the available seats.
Braelnoir takes that as her cue and gets to her feet with a murmured, "Looks like we're on." She scoots her accessories back a touch and assumes an alert posture as she, too, appraises the sellswords, her baggage back in the corner. Time fer biz, now. With Cryo's wave, she gives a little nod, "'ey, luvvies."
Now engaged in quiet conversation, Griva seems warmly responsive to her guards. She'a buying them pie, actually.
Cryo waits for the pie purchase, some things one does not interrupt. When it seems that the transaction is complete, and that Griva is taking a seat somewhere else, the whitescale calls out, and waves. "Griva! Peace on your Nest. This one is seeking Mikilos, do you know where he is? I would also share words."
Formality sneaks in, despite her efforts to seem casual. Her tail coils from one side, then the other, then around her ankles. She breathes steadily.
Under her breath she tells the table, "Someone order tea. That seems the thing to do at times like these."
"Last time I saw Master Mikilos, he was ensconced in the act of creation! How can I help you, Seeker?" Seeker? Either way, Griva hardly seems fussed by the interruption.
Cryosanthia blinks. The words didn't translate well. Perhaps it's a Dwarven to Tradespeak to Draconic issue. "he creates things for me occasionally, he is quite skilled."
She glances at Griva again, meaningful stares are beyond the capabilities of sith'makar features, beyond pointed attention. Perhaps a leading question will do it, "This one is Speaker Caste. Do you have one of those one use items on you? This is my trusted friend Aya, and my scale-sister Braelnoir."
Braelnoir is very rarely glad she doesn't have her tail, anymore. Now would be one of those times, as she's sure she'd have slapped someone with it by now. The movement of Cryo's draws her eye, though, and she glances at the ladies at her table, then settles in, "Kaeryn? Trouble ya fer a pot, luv?" With her introduction, she gives a little dip of a nod, and a, "Hello." Eyes to mercs, glance to the Purse, then, she settles into a general standby, letting her sister do the social thing.
"I have many such items," replies Griva to Cryo, "why do you ask?" She nods towards Aya and Brael, politely, but her eyes are now on Cryo intently.
Cryo glances around the Fernwood again, back at Griva, "We found a few things that might be of interest, and didn't want everyone overhearing. Although it's not much of a secret."
She gestures towards a seat, "We have tea coming."
"Of course," says Griva. And then she produces a bead from a pouch and places it on the table.
It glows softly.
"We are now talking about the gladiator games in Charn again! What an amazing topic of conversation."
Braelnoir mostly keeps to herself now, settling in and making sure no one gets squirrely. There's a glance sidelong as she realizes Aya disappeared in that way of hers, but it isn't a long moment. She idly scratches the newgrown red scales dotting her arm. The topic wrinkles her nose a smidge. Slave combat. More a personal hangup than a religious one, but, it's smoke and mirrors.
Cryo glances around, her nostrils flaring. No Aya again, it's not unexpected. Her sudden departures are much better than her sudden appearances. She exhales, setting both her arms on the table. Her buckler, still attached, clinks as she does.
"So. First thing we found is a house that teleports through the planes. We went to Hell and..." There's a slight glance towards Braelnoir, "... Kor's Endless Battlefield, and three places around Alexandros. It's a... we crashed it on a mountain. It repairs itself, it would make a great headquarters for you."
Griva blinks her eyes at Cryo, "A headqarters.. oh my goodness. A house that moves through the planes..."
A pause.
"That's the sanctum of the Phalanx Falcis! The legendary hero of Alexandria who struck down the Witch Queen, Altima!"
She leans back in her chair, "It was thought lost in the Felwood years ago."
"It looked very important. There were lots of pictures of softskins. We saw an after image of some war golems" Cryosanthia nods enthusiasticaly, "Yes, the Hags told us it had something to do with a Queen. I'll remember the name and read about it."
"So, it's controlled by a big artifice room, we left it parked on a mountain in the Red Ridge. I hope it's still there, I've been looking for Mikilos, or someone who might understand it better, so we could teleport back and get it. I thought it might be very helpful for your purposes. We found it while we were looking for a lost villager."
"Folks didn't look very hard." Brae remarks dryly with a little shrug, glancing between Griva's chaperones, then, "Needs some cleanup. Place gets tricky." She gives the waitress a little smile, then back to business in time for Cryo's look. The smile gets a little brittle, then, but doesn't last long enough to give a solid read.
Edinaz comes in from the cold, wrapped in his cloak. He pauses for a moment, hearing familiar voices. When he sees Griva, too, though, he orders an ale first.
"Yes, it was a wondrous work of pillaged Kulthian power that Augustus managed to put together, presumably with help from Saluven back in the day. We never knew," agrees Griva quietly, to Cryo. To Ed's ears, however, they are talking about gladiator games in Charn.
Yes, even Cryo. Which is probably just weird, but might explain why Akoniril stares at Griva. She's getting the news. It's totally up to date.
Edinaz takes a sip of ale, then looks over. /That/ is even more confusion. He sits for a moment, confused scowl on his face.
Cryo makes a quick wave at Edinaz, pointing at a seat. He's as much a part of this as she is. She continues her story, "Do you have artificers amongst your group who might understand it? Do you think it would make a good headquarters? It might be useful for finding things of interest to your order. I also like that it can leave, and go anywhere."
She pours herself some tea, watches it cool, "I think that's really important. Being able to move. We found Zaya, the lost village girl, and she found something more interesting than the house. Which needs someplace safer than here to talk about."
Edinaz comes on over, sipping his ale on the way. Hooking a chair, he settles down. "Why are you talking about gladiator games? In Charn?" A pause. "Hi."
Braelnoir glances to Edinaz as he moves to join them, lifting her hand in a casual hail as the conversation(s) proceed. As he settles in, Brae, with a certain 'casual' sound in her voice says, "Hey, Edi, how goes?" Don't mind the loaded crossbow and scythe propped against the wall beside her, "Fresh pot a'tea?"
"Hello," says Griva to Edinaz, "We're not, obviously." Then she nods to Cryo.
"OF course we do. And do we now?" She pauses.
"I can add additioinal security, if you like."
"Peace on your nest, Edinaz." Cryo says as warmly as she can, turning to him as he sits, "I'm telling Griva what we found in the Felwood house. There's a magical conversation scrambler covering it."
She nods at the dwarf, "Additional security would be nice, if it doesn't draw attention. We've been trying not to draw attention since we got back."
Tell, don't tell. Her tail curls back the other way around her ankles. One of her hands closes up, opens again, "You were correct. We would recognize it when we saw it. It seemed to have driven her out of her mind, and something spoke through her, 'Save the Girl'. So... we did that."
Edinaz plunk his ale down, and grins at Braelnoir. "Sure -- I'll take a tea with my ale." A pause. "Just not in the same pot." He nods to Griva. "Right." He exhales sharply. "Right," he repeats.
Braelnoir smirks a touch, but leaves that lie, for the moment, though, she pours herself a spot of tea, glancing about the particulars and the further occupancy without remark. A sip, "Right." So everyone's on the same page.
Griva holds her eyes closed a moment. There's no visible spellcasting from her. Seems there are perks to being a potent wizardess.
"We are now additionally protected by an aura of non-detection. WE fcan't even be scried. I will further apply an illusory veil."
"Okay. So this is the first time it's been out in this plane. It went in the haversack when we were in hell. I hope that part about them being undetectable remains." Cryo explains. She reaches into her haversack and takes out the box, setting it on the table.
She stands over the box, puts a leather gauntlet on over her gloves, picks up a knife and opens it. Using the knife still, she pulls out some packaging, then wraps that around the handle and removes more.
The shard is revealed, sitting there. A piece of a Dead God resting on and in junk found in an attic. How wildly inappropriate.
Cryo tilts the box so Griva, the others can see. "So, what were your plans for it. I'm concerned. Touching it did a number on Zaya; strap it to a stick it would make a dangerous club."
Edinaz smiles his thanks at Brae, and mutters into his mug: 'godclub' He leans over on one elbow, watching Griva carefully, studying her reaction.
Braelnoir, for her part, incrementally tenses into alert as Cryo unwraps Zaya's prezzie. There's a chance Eksellios may earn that 'chant, yet. She is sitting forward, an elbow clad in spiked steel resting against her knee while the other holds her teacup. The silver tressed merc, likewise trying to guage what may come with enough warning to properly respond.
"OH MY..."
Griva's hand goes over her heart, her eyes wide. HEr eyes flash with blue fire briefly.
"Ow, ow, ow, ow.."
Her hands go over her eyes.
Edinaz sips his tea this time. "It is what we claim," he offers gently. "We walked away from the Battlegrounds to bring this back," he says sadly, fingers rubbing against te traceries of Kor-praising ink beneath the skin of his shoulders.
"This can be handled but with great, *great* care. The magic in it can be temporarily blocked with the aid of anti-magic. That won't destroy it, but it should help us bring it to where it can rest: the temple of Eluna. Would you accept that?" asks Griva to Cryosanthia, staring at it. Her eyes are beginning to brim with tears.
Braelnoir has the look flash across her features, a look that screams that she walked away from a lot more as well as the Battleground is mentioned. From her end is only a quiet, "Yeah." and a nod. The proposal from Griva brings her attention back to her sister. This is her play, baggage later, work now.
"Sorry, this one... did that too. It's blinding and a black hole in everything at the same time." The whitescale grimaces, slowly exhaling, watching Griva, watching her guards, another glance around the Fernwood in case there are eyes on them when there shouldn't possibly be.
"Zaya cut her hands holding it, ground them to pieces. I think... it helped her, somehow. Find the house. It... him? Something spoke to us through her. Touching it directly ... might be useful, and dangerous." Cryo keeps a hold of the box.
"Vrocks tried to take it from us. They knew it was there, they chased the house." Her voice is a little more firm, "We got away from them, walked away from the Battleground. Baz, Edi, my sister, this was a sacrifice for them."
Finally a very firm statement. "I don't want this, but I don't want it out of my sight. I'd trust only three other people to guard it, Mikilos, Kira and Silverguard Serene. Braelnoir, Edi, likely Baz and Mac Bee, we brought it out, I think they want, deserve a say too, in what happens. The Temples... were not very reliable defenders of anything when The Fae Queen and Eclavdran attacked. Eluna ... well she answered the sleeping Salina's prayers and left the rest of us to fall."
"I was hoping for an alternative. Get the house, garrison it, keep moving it. It's why I was hoping for Mikilos."
"Silverguard Serene is in operating as one of the protecotors within the Elunite temple," explains Griva, "She is aware. We do not, however, wish to keep them all in one place. There are a handful of locations I can think of where it woukld be safe: the manor of Augustus would not be one of them." She shakes her head at this. "Still, you are right. The Manor could be a useful tool. If we reclaim it, we could use it to investigate more easily some of the tied-in problems in the planes. I'll speak to the govenrment of it." She looks at the jagged piece of metal on the table. "I can place it within a nethercite barrier. That should prevent it from exerting any influence, and we can take it to hte TEmple of Eluna, if you're willing, and place it directlyy in Silverguard Serene's care."
"False flag." Brae comments absently, her spikey hand fluttering slightly in a soft clatter of articulated steel, "Bring the stuff in the house in them hoodoo bags." A shrug, "Port'm back out again once ya moved the house on the sly. Every so often, move the house again." She glances at Cryo, then Edi, a shrug, "Give one ta Kor?"
Edinaz rumbles for a moment, scowling into his tea. "Don't know if that's a good idea. I can see Kor getting some ideas about how to deal with it that I'm not sure we'd want to deal with on the mortal plane." He doesn't sound too sure of that statement. He mouths The Manor of Augustus to himself, and sips his tea. "But the shard shouldn't be in the house again." That much he is firm on.
"And when she isn't operating as one?" Cryo asks directly, "This one saw Salina, Kol, her demons, scatter the clerics of Daeus and Eluna multiple times and slay them. It fell to adventurers, whoever was standing about, to fight back. We called for Sunblades and Silverguards, they never appeared. I'd rather it anywhere but the Temples, especially those two."
There's a nod towards Edi and Braelnoir, "Okay, the house is out. I'm convinced of that."
She sighs, "I know I can't protect it, but I believe a known location with untrustworthy defenses is worse. At least I can keep moving around, be hard to find. 'The government, the temples, will handle it' aren't reassuring words to me. What are the other options?"
"... we do not want a piece of Animus in the hands of the God of War," says Griva, firmly, "He would see it as he must: as a weapon to be used. Against who? Well... that'd be up to Kor, wouldn't it? The Gods are one with their nature. The god of war must war, whatever shape that war takes."
"I understand your concerns. That's ... worrisome to hear, but the vaults remained secure," she points out. "...if Eclavdran could have taken the artifacts there, he would have. HE did not."
Brae arches an eyebrow at that. She gives her tablemates a look, then settles back in her seat, "It's also a prize fer every conspirator, zealot, demon, would be archmage an' demigod plus from th'Iron Hells ta th'Battlegrounds." She sips her tea, "Against who'd probably be the first, an last silly sonofabitch that made ta take it from'm. He's the God o'War, but we put enough entertainment on the ground he don't need to come carve it out of us with a new shiny rock."
Edinaz scowls at the description of Kor, "since when does Kor need to do anything?" but nods nonetheless. "I think that bait without a hook is a recipe for getting bitten, that's what I think. So let's not hang it out there without a hook and a plan." There goes the Korite, using sharp things for metaphors again.
"It's not a question of needs, it's a question of wants. Kor *wants* to make war, because war is what he *is* down to a fundamental level," points out Griva to Edinaz.
"How would Ceinara see it?" Cryosantha asks, genuinely curious. She has her own thoughts. Her goddess didn't lean particularly one way or another, provide any kind of assistance or insight. At best the sith'makar views her as a permanent audience of one, watching and occasionally eating popcorn. "Or the Death Singing Dragon, Vardama? How would she?"
"Mourner Vernor could help." The whitescale stares down at the shard in the box, a persistence past death. Her voice is soft, "is he still conscious, somehow? Not understanding? Stuck in his last moment? Something spoke to us. I don't like to think about that, being trapped, stuck inside and no one coming."
Her left hand, just gloved, hovers over the box as if she might reach in. It stays a moment, she puts it back on the side. "One of the first things I did in Alexandria was chase down an Artifact stolen from the Temple of Gilead, by a priest. A regular person. Eclavdran might have been prevented for going in the vaults, or he might have been uninterested in them. I don't know. You feel the vaults are secure. I have doubts. Serene, Mikilos and Kira, together thwarted him, when he laughed at heavenly hosts on their own plane. I know she won't falter. I'd like to hear her thoughts, their opinions, and an alternative to the those Temples. I know where to find Kira, Mikilos has been the missing piece."
Edinaz looks back at Griva, and drawls, "I'm not sure why you're trying to lecture me on the nature of Kor." His eyebrows arch on his face. "I'm not the person you need to convince here."
"If you want a lecture, I'm happy to give you one," answers Griva curtly to Edinaz. "You offered a disagreement with me, I responded. That's discussion, hardly lecture." She dismissively turns from Edianz, eyes going back to Cryosanthia.
"Who can say what inspiration she'd take with it? But we must remember that the Gods are powerful and multi-faceted, but their natures are their natures. I'm shocked by the events you're describing, but I've been seen to the protections of those vaults personally. There are few places I can think that would be *more* secure, and frankly, in the hands of a high profile adventurer may *feel* right, but..." She lets out a sigh.
Edinaz just looks at Griva for a moment, and something ticks in his expression. Disengagement. The dismissal is mirrored.
He sits back in silence.
Braelnoir rolls her shoulders, "Don't remember anyone'n recent history failing th'arms around going 'Kor just whupped m'ass! Whaaa!' All I'm sayin'." She upends her tea, sets the teacup down, then props her chin up with that hand, "There's a call fer ideas, I gave ideas. I still like runnin a false flag."
"Nothing feels right about this." Cryosanthia says, "I didn't want this. I resisted. I have my own world, falling apart, to save. I asked the Silver Empress for guidance, she told me to look into it and ask more questions. I asked other sith I trusted to handle it, but I, we, we're the ones that tripped over the Shard when we weren't even looking for it."
She looks up, "We were searching for a girl, that the government felt was best handled by sending a bunch of adventurers to deal with. It fell to us. Why did she find it, why her? Why us? Does it have intent, did it choose? Is there free will and agency or fate and everything is fixed? I want it protected. I want ... him... saved... saved? I want to know what she saw, spoke too. I'm not interested in it's power."
She stares at the box. "It's very tempting to hand it over to some faceless protector I've never met, wipe my hands and it's done. Problem solved, go back to dealing with mine. Events go on with me on the sidelines. Except I keep getting shoved back, keep being pulled in, and walking away is the easy, cowardly out. The 'not my problem' out. That you need high profile adventurers outside the structures that can handle surprise situations, because that's what we do."
Cryo waves a hand, "Brael's idea is a good one. So is spreading a rumour that we lost it to the Vrocks in Hell or Kor's Battlefield. I'd like to see these defenses, and then if you can stop Merek wandering in or Mikilos teleporting out. I want to be involved and help..."
She stares down at the shard in the box. No Cryo, do not let those instincts engage. It is not an egg in a nest. It is not a hatchling to be protected. The maternal impulse isn't helpful here, "... him."
"I like that idea too," agrees Griva to Braelnoir, "And it's more likely he'd do something like throw a party in the Battleground and make it a trophy for the victor with a 'return to Gaea and wage war free' card for the victor," mutters Griva. Seems that thought has some personal experience behind it.
Instead, she stares at Cryo, her eyes filled with sympathy
"I do agree that baiting sounds like a solid plan," she adds, "but we must be careful." And then she gives Cryo another look, adding, "...the villagers hired you. Not the Government. The Guild subsidizies these things *through* the government for the commoners. Otherwise, you'd be getting paid in chickens. Wait, what? Saved? You said it spoke, but you didn't say what. Saved who? Gods, *spoke*..."
Brakka.
Was probably a him, too...
Another soul trapped in deathlessness. A voice from beyond, trapped in a fun sized doom dispenser.
Brae bows her head and gives it a slow shake, "Yer... sure there's someone alive in there?" Not that the house talking is a much better possibilty, but.... "Somethin' spoke in there." She looks ruefully at Cryo, a little guiltily, then to Griva, "Somethin' said 'Save her' through the girl, not her voice."
"She did. Zaya, except it wasn't her." Cryo looks directly at Griva, all attention is on her. "She kept repeating 'you have to, you have to' very fast, like a mantra when we found her. She was holding tight, wit both hands."
The whitescale gets a little distant, "Her eyes were so deep, like the ocean, like the stars, and she seemed so frail. Looking into them, it seemed like... endless... entities. I don't know how to describe the way she looked at us any better. And 'Save Her'. It didn't seem like her voice to me either."
"I don't know what she saw, I'm not sure what I saw, and I felt it wasn't her. Someone else... she could have been talking about the Shard, herself in the third person... maybe... but..." Cryo closes her eyes, shakes her head, "That it's Animus, talking directly to us? That seems... I don't know... too much, even with it obviously so powerful, too much... I thought maybe it, he, she, whatever was in there realized she wasn't strong enough and cared and wanted us to fix it."
"It could be, and that would make a certain amount of sense. A flicker, an ember, a dying thought. I don't klnow." Griva shakes her head, eyes full of sorrow.
"We must do what wecan to help him. The girl is safe? I should like to examine her. I will seek her out."
Not overwhelmingly versed in Gods outside of asymmetrical conflict resolution, Brae simply wonders, "He die protectin' someone, mebbe?" A glance to Cryo and a nod, "Last instinct, gotta save m'girl... or what have ya." She considers all of it, then, "Just... kid gloves, yeah? Her cookie's been in the milk too long. Take doin' ta see her right again, I'm guessin'."
"Baz took her home to her village. He's rough but he's a cleric and he said he would treat her as careful as his daughters." Cryo adds, "So she should be there."
She nods at her scale-sister's observation, "What were the circumstances, could it have been a lingering thought?"
It's horrifying and hard to ignore, and one of the thoughts that has been chasing itself around in her head since they returned. What to do. What does it mean. Who, how.
She reaches across the table and pats Griva's arm. Her gloved hand, a whitescale leather glove around a whitescale leathery hand. That's cool when it touches, "There's hope. We're going to help. I'm a Speaker and I lived with an immortal a long time, and she messed with my mind so there's not much to wreck. I'll hold the Shard and try talking anytime you think it's safe."
"It could," says Griva. "There's a great deal we don't know. All the shards are different." She shakes her head. "We'll understand what to do, sooner or later. Right now, I need to be going, but Cryo, please we need to find that shard a safe place to be, and ultimately, people aren't safe places to be. We don't know what kindf of influence it could have on them, or you in the long run."
Cryosanthia nods, carefully putting the wadding back in the box and replacing the lid. She taps the nails in the corners back in with the butt of the knife, then slips the box into her Haversack before the scrying protections vanish and it gets accidentally revealed.
She's not in disagreement, she wants it to be safe too. She doesn't want to carry it either, or have it close to her youngling. Even in a non-magical sense it's making changes. She's been hunted before, and it's bringing back all the thoughts, the bad habits, the jumpiness. Constant wariness, always watching for surprise attacks and planning escape routes. Updating them each minute as things move. A magical influence will be all the worse.
So she nods, "I know. I'll think... on what you said. I wanted you to know what we found. And I'll... something. Soon."
"Baz'll see'r home safe." Brae affirms, brushing her hair back over her shoulder, then looks between the women again. She sidelongs at Cryo, "'member when I was after the fun in the Collosseum? we do that on the slick, may do fer a spell." She rises to her feet, rolling her neck, "Won't let no one take it from her."
The whitescale nods, the implied location is both a good place and the last place she wants to go. Her reply is hesitant, "That... would work." If a little bit of nethercyte is good, a whole dungeon full should be excellent. Of course, if it didn't work that would be educational. Very startling and educational.
She puts her wooden mask on, and adjusts the features, the disguise taking hold. She looks like a Jotun now, a certain Warrior of Angoron she had breakfast with a few days ago. A tweak of an ear, and perhaps it's that Jotun's sister, or aunt. Something different enough she isn't painting a target on a friend. Her clothes are adjusted and she rises to her feet also.
"Let's go work something out." Her voice is husky, and entirely not her own.
OOC Stuff
<OOC> Whirlpool says, "Cryo, I just want to share:"
<OOC> Whirlpool says, "Halani touched the other shard."
<OOC> Whirlpool says, "Her name is presently Halanimus. ;)"
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "Oooo neat."
<OOC> Braelnoir says, "ahh"
<OOC> Braelnoir hugs
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "I don't want to be Cryoanimus"
<OOC> Braelnoir says, "Evil CryoanimuSally?"
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "I do want Evil Cryo out again"
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "no, my wish, is I touch the shard and trigger my Dragon Form as a kind of magic overload."
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "Evil Cryo is so much fun, in part because all the dice screw-ups make her better."
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "like "Yay will destroy you!" trip over tail during attack"
<OOC> Whirlpool says, "The thing about the bit with Halani is that e ven though Halani now thinks she's Animus, she is still a dork."
<OOC> Braelnoir smirks
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "When was she a dork? She seemed good the few times I met her. I thought she was a monk. A dork monk?"
<OOC> Whirlpool says, "When Halani seizes the orb, to the rest of your eyes the golem stops moving. In fact, it suddenly dissolves into a pile of coins around her when she 'removes' it from where it is inside of it.
... In fact, it breaks into a million pieces all around Halani...
... who is now dressed in shimmering, flowing robes, wielding a staff topped with a shimmering metal orb.
Her eyes are full of blue fire and her face a twisted grimace of wrath.
"I AM RETURNED! BOW ... OR BE PUNCHED!"
<OOC> Braelnoir patpats
<OOC> Whirlpool says, "There."
<OOC> Whirlpool says, "Halani is the best."
<OOC> Whirlpool says, "IC, she is kind of a dork. :)"
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "That is a great pose."
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "Oh neat"
<OOC> Whirlpool says, "...which is why the God of Magic (supposedly) is threatening to punch people xD"
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "... if only Sandy had grabbed it."
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "One Punch, with a side of hips."
<OOC> Whirlpool says, "HMPH."
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "So did anyone step up, "May I be the first to be punched?""
<OOC> Whirlpool says, "WE paused htere :)"
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "Heee. See, i think that would be a great way to claim ordination. "Yup. Animus personally selected me. See the bruise?" "Looks like a fist." "PERSONALLY!""
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "So. Noted. Touching shard bad. And if Lily absorbs any Animus through her butt then it's going straight out the window"
<OOC> Whirlpool snort.
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "she rides around on top of the haversack"
<OOC> Braelnoir says, "As Faran finds herself suddenly babysitting Jack-Jack from the Incredibles...."
<OOC> Whirlpool facepalm.
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "see. what I really wanted to do, as have the shard in the haversack, then change into a dragon, and all my stuff... vanish into me the way polymorphed stuff does, then technically there is an Animus shard inside me in an extradimensional space... somehows..."
<OOC> Braelnoir says, "ty for the rps! have a good night!"
<OOC> Cryosanthia nods! "Thanks whirl. Noms everyone not here."