Ill Met in the Gardens
Log Info
- Title: Ill Met in the Gardens
- Emitter: Whirlpool
- Characters: Iuitl, Ebonne, Cryosanthia, Merek, Edinaz
- Place: A06: Lower Alexandrian Gardens District
- Time: Friday, January 29, 2021, 11:25 PM
- Summary: Iuitl is in conversation with Priestess Akoniril when Cryosanthia emerges from a store with a package. Ebonne, a war golem, arrives and is drawn to the two while a look from one sith'makar pulls the other over. Ebonne seems to be taking Akoniril's side, so Cryo introduces everyone, indicating Taara is a high ranking diplomat and high priestess, and includes that Charn regularly takes Sith'makar as slaves from Am'Shere, and this is why she's receiving a chill reception from both lizards. Edinaz comes over to watch, and Merek arrives to garden. The verbal interplay continues, with Cryosanthia maintain a verbose aloofness, until she's surprised by Akoniril's interest in the Crimson Pen and how she embarassed Seldan asking about it. Ebonne takes up the word battle, disputing Akoniril's claim that all desires belong to the goddess of lies and power grabbing. Further exploration of the topic includes the Chosen of Charn, and Cryo feels inspired to write some salacious fiction denegrating Maugrim and Taara as an easier way to rebuke the Priestess. Akoniril finally has to depart, and Cryo and Ebonne discuss clothing and fashion before the icy sith begs leave as well.
-=--=--=--=--=--<* A06: Lower Alexandrian Gardens District *>=--=--=--=--=--=-
The city is divided, unofficially, into Upper Alexandria and Lower Alexandria. The Upper resides further up on the slope of the mountain, and rests to the east of the great river. The Lower resides to the west of it, and if the Lower could be said to have a heart, this verdant park might be its center.
Amid all the bustle of the Lower City, its Gardens District provides a peaceful respite. The warmth of Althea holds sway here, and though Daeus receives the occasional nod, this is clearly Her domain. She shares it with Dana, in the verdant green of this area. Vines and trees, remain green no matter the season and numerous flowers bloom along the park's walkways. Faerie-light lanterns hang from branches and along hedgerows.
A number of shops may be found here, most notably the city hospital, for which the park was originally built. Though now open to the public, the gardens by and large, remain underneath the hospital's care. However, in the Althean tradition, much of the work is provided by volunteers.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Appearing, in Order -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Iuitl 5'2" 149 Lb Sith-Makar Female Short sith, mottled black scales, tired green eyes Ebonne 6'10" 252 Lb War Golem Female Tall slender feminine styled warborn, top knot w/ long silvery tail. Cryosanthia 6'9" 291 Lb Sith-Makar Female A dashingly tall, elegant white-scaled lizard woman. Merek 5'10" 215 Lb Human Male A black-haired, dusky male with golden eyes. Edinaz 6'10" 296 Lb Half-Orc Male Grey-skinned half-oruch, extensive black ink. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Noteable NPCS -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Akoniril Shadow Elf Female Priestess of Taara, Charnese Delegate to Alexandria -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Appearing, in Order -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Whirlpool Otyugh I am stinky! -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
It's Kesenday, Vhast 29 23:25:14 1023. The full moon isn't up. The tide is low and ebbing.
The sky is grey-black, moonless and starless. Human eyes can distinguish the snow from everything else, and not much more: every shape that isn't snow-covered is a black shadow. The air is damp and cold. There is little wind.
Stawnding near one of the Market Stalls that exists on the fringes of the Gardens District, there's a ginger-haired Shadow Elf. She's a lovely woman, to be sure, but she's presently surrounded by guardsmen from Alexnadria while she's speaking to a Sith-Makar. That'd be Iuitl.
She nods sympathetically towards the Sith, yes, offering her a warm smile.
"I am glad. For what it's worth, I don't approve of Charn's stance vis a vis the Makari people, to whom a debt of blood is now owed. My word does not carry much weight in those circles, but there are those of us who asked for things to be done ... differently. I realize my words are paltry at best, but it is not often I have the opportunity to offer them."
Why would a war golem be roaming the area? Why wouldn't she? The curiously designed golem moves carefully through the crowd when she must though more often than not a space opens up for her to pass. On her way towards the market her attention is drawn to the proliferation of guardsmen first and foremost so that is where her steps take her.
Unlike some other war golems this particular one moves with a rather surprising grace and while not a perfected feminine gait, Ebonne is clearly trying to not blunder around like, well, a big war golem. It helps that she's 'designed' to facillitate such, but it's something she still needs more practice with.
A whitescaled Sith'makar emerges from a store in time to overhear. Cryosanthia, carrying a large-ish box in both hands, wearing a long velvet dress that's primarily white, but has some fur trimming in pale glacial blues, as well as snowflakes and dragoneyes on the collar.
She turns, staring in the direction of the conversation, eyes lingering on Iuitl. The war-golem gets a glance, and while the Sith'makar knows a few, when she doesn't recognize her she returns to looking at the Mul'niessa.
Iuitl becomes immediately and vibrantly distracted by the approach of the war golem, because... who wouldn't be? She shrugs toward the shadow elf she's speaking to after that. She shrugs on the notes of apparent sympathy. "Empty words, indeed, until those responsible for injustices truly stop their actions," she points out, "Or are stopped by those interested in change." She looks to Cryosanthia, who...
She gives a long, appraising gaze, because she's not sure why the other Sith-Makar is just standing over there like that. She cocks her head inquisitively, wordlessly inquiring.
Well, she is a Speaker and while she has no desire to speak to Akoniril, Cryosanthia hasn't seen Iuitl in a while and perhaps the long gaze is a request for assistance. While the Mul'niessa is on her own, the passel of guards increases her presence and makes encounters a little one sided. She exhales, nostrils flaring and moves over.
"Peace on your Nest," the whitescale says, stopping beside Iuitl, a slight incline of her head. Turning to Akoniril she searches for an appropriate greeting. The first ones to float up definitely wouldn't be. She settles for a simple, "Hello." <Sildanyari>
"Everything begins with a word, darling," replies Akorinil, "It's words that give us reality to work within. Paltry that they may *feel*, it matters that they get said. Saying them enough can shape how you bring about the change you want to see, don't you think? Words are like magic, they just change what we *see* when we look at a thing."
Akorinil raises a perfectly manicured finger to tap one of the apples on display and grabs it thereafter, offering a coin. The War Golem gets an intersted stare from the ginger shadow lef.
"Words?" Ebonne's voice is a harmonious thing, even if definitely artificial in nature. It lacks hard clashes of sound. "Communication is a many layered thing. Words without action have no weight. With action to back up the words then words gain meaning." One hand comes up and slowly tap-tap-taps at her chin. With metallic ringing softly accompanying it.
The war golem turns and looks at the guards, "It is no surprise one might say such things to appease what may be feared as a mob forming." Sapphire and silver gemstone eyes flick from Sith to Sith to elf to guards in rapid fashion. "One can only be held accountable for their own actions, or inactions. To do otherwise is injustice in itself."
Darling. For some reason, it feels... gross, being called that, making for a subtle expression of disgust in the lizard woman's features. Iuitl knows it's a quirk of language, especially by those of airy personalities... But her gaze drifts over to linger. "Empty until action is taken," she reiterates her point, unwavering on that feeling. It seems it's pretty echoed by the robot, but their frank stance does cause visible pause in Iuitl.
Cryosanthia stares at the war-golem as she lectures, waits a moment then says formally, "Some introductions are in order."
"This one is Iuitl, Shaman Caste," the whitescale indicates Iuitl with an open palm, balancing her box against her hip with the other. She follows by touching her own chest, "This one is Cryosanthia, Speaker of the Sith'Makar."
Finally a gesture to the pleasant seeming Mul'niessa, "This is Madah'Chern Akorinil ferch Belvade yun Lithrinil dem Kenduis. High Priestess of Taara, and part of the Charnese delegation to Alexandria."
Cryo stares at Akoniril some more, "My apologies if this one errs on your title, it has been some time."
"In terms of words and actions, those are pleasing to the ear, yet Priestess Akoniril would be responsible for more actions than her own, as Priestess, this one believes."
"I have chosen the name Ebonne. It is pleasing to me and that is enough." Ebonne introduces herself, "I admit openly that I am new to the vagaries of nationalism and interactions between them. I do not speak to defend, but speak my thoughts on the nature of things as may apply in general. I know not what this priestess has, or has not, done. I apologize if I have offended. It is a most interesting learning experience. If it is preferred I will merely observe."
"So you say, but I believe you underestimate the strength of words."
Of course, Akorinil would say that. She too is a diplomat. An arhced eyebrow to Cryosanthia, though a smile flickers across her face. "Thank you for the fine introduction," she tells them, giving a bow, before she does nod. "It's true, but here I am," she adds, before straightening up to bite into her apple. "Ah, I do love these so."
Cryosanthia dips her snout towards Ebonne, a friendly gesture. The edges of her mouth are curled, a careful smile. "Peace on your Nest, Ebonne. Your name does have a pleasant ring."
"Nationally, one might say Charn makes regular military raids into Am'shere, not recognizing the sovereignty of the Silver Empress. That they capture Sith'makar and take them to Charn, as slaves, not recogizing them as people. This one has heard Charnese arguments that the people have no civilizaion, or intelligence."
The whitescale's turn to lecture now. She still smiles carefully at Ebonne, "This may explain the chill surrounding this exchange that is not weather related."
Cryo's attention turns to Akoniril next, "This one has not heard you expousing that, of course. This one has had the thought, that should the slaves in Charn be freed, they might outnumber your own people. A good argument against amassing more that perhaps you might share to other like minded. It would be an argument against such actions, with the current demographic, this one believes."
Edinaz is tramping through the street, carrying a large sack over his shoulder -- on a market mission of some sort. He slows down, though, at the knot of armed people, and scans them for a moment.
Merek walks along and into the lower gardens where he cares for the flowers. The Seer notes that the Delegate Akoniril was about, in addition to Cryosanthia, Iuitl and Edinaz. Ebonne is offered a little nod. He adjusts the potion belt which he wears, "Good evening," he begins with the flowers.
The war golem's attention shifts to the Ambassador in full at the mention of slavery, and intelligence, and if her face could show any expressions it would still be hidden behind the static metal 'mask' of the 'face' she wears. Ebonne asks, "How is it a whole nation can be lacking basic intelligence. It is clear that the scaled ones are intelligent. That they are people. If they are taken as slaves then they must be able to follow direction, another sign of intelligence. They also speak and have conscious thought. I do not understand how such a mistake is remotely possible." Ebonne continues to tap her chin softly in thought with the soft chiming of the taps interspersed throughout the soft harmonious intonations that come from the war golem.
"It is understandable," replies Akorinil, though how deep her understanding runs is anyone's guess. It's not like she's giving a whole lot away with that expression and those sympathetic eyes she's giving them. "But I think one ought to be careful before casting all the sins of the powerful on a particular individual. We are all always in motion, a part of things that exist above, beyond, and all around us. This is not to deny responsibilities, just that it might seem a little easier from where you sit. Still, I've always thouht that the tribes people of Am'shere would have made an asset to the Empire had the Empire not wasted its opportunity. Alas, voices like mine were not listened to, and instead, a choice was made to pursue additional slave labor instead. Someday, it will be answered to. Taara teaches us that our wants have costs. Pursuit of wants without knowledge is an affront to Her."
Cryosanthia is calm, it's not an affectation. She doesn't want to be here but isn't emotionally reacting to Akoniril's presence. The whitescale hopes her subtle body language will reassure the other Sith'makar. There is no immediate danger, there is control. She maintains her formality, the package she's carrying throwing off her otherwise straight posture. It implies a certain casualness. It was a shopping trip interrupted after all. While every negotiation has stakes, and this one is no exception, Cryo wasn't expecting a table and didn't bring anything to it. Primarily her intentions are to reassure her friend, and find out if there's something at stake she isn't aware of.
The whitescale smiles at the Mul'niessa, still keeping her mouth carefully closed when she's not speaking, and minimally parted when she is. A huge row of sharp fangs is not supportive of the argument one is not a beast. "This one would not lay all the sins of Charn upon you. Yet, you have influence as Priestess. This one imagines you conduct services and direct sermons, advise followers, develop awareness of factions. A casual word on your part might inspire many to act without impunity, which you are no doubt aware."
Cryo gestures at the apple, "This one gives apologies again, as there was no wish to interrupt your meal as much as I have done in the hopes it might rechart the course of Charn as you seemed to express earlier that words might. This one agrees that Speaking encourages planning, which leads to a Path, then actions."
She pauses for a breath, it is as if the whitescale might go on forever! "This one is curious, having become aware that you have shared words with Silverguard Seldan. This one wishes to know the nature and subject if it concerns her or her people. Would you share the contents of these words with this one?"
Edinaz slows down, feeling the weight of his burden as he pauses to listen to the ambassador. He gives a little grunt, then listens as Cryo speaks many, many words.
Merek gazes at Cryosanthia when he notices the sith'makar is about, "Peace on your nest."
"Interesting." He tells Akoniril, then keeps on working with the flowers while he watches. He can't think of anything to contribute to the conversation, all the same it looks like he will learn whatever all of them are talking about.
Ebonne falls silent, perhaps waiting for her questions and points to be addressed. Her attention shifts to the whitescale when she goes on and on but the war golem shows no signs of distress at the volume of words. She turns her attention back to Akoniril and asks, "Is it not your duty to continue to advise your people about the harm they are doing to themselves? Or is your being here a sort of exile to limit your influence?"
Iuitl takes the opportunity to slip away while Cryo has Akoniril distracted.
"I asked him where I might get a copy of the Crimson Pen's latest books. They're dreadful in every way and I can not stop reading them."
Akorinil says, warmly, to Cryosanthia. "You should have seen the look on his face. It was like I'd slapped him. He was gone *so* quickly."
Akorinil seems to find thatr *hilarious*. She does nod towards Cryosanthia. "In my limited fashio, of course. I am not a 'lay' priest. I don't give sermons or hold sacraments. Instead, I'm here," she points out, "trying to secure food for the people of Charn in trade, amongst other things." And sthen towards Ebonne, she studies them carefully. "Hm," she offers to them.
Cryo's mouth drops open and there's a nudge of disbelief in Akoniril's direction. Close your mouth, close your mouth. She remembers to close her mouth. Composure blown, "Ah...ah. Yes. That is... like him." She stammers, "This one can arrange for a copy to be delivered... should you provide an address."
She seeks a moment to recover and recenter herself. Cryo gestures towards Ebonne, "This one spoke overly much, Ebonne's questions were not addressed." She leaves it open for that to happen now.
Edinaz squares up his shoulders, resettling his bag. He tilts his head for a moment, then says quietly to Cryo. "That was a fine touch on you, with words."
Ebonne says to Cryo, "The lack of response is as telling as a response would be." She stops tapping her chin, "But one must wonder from a logistics point of view it would be easier to feed the people, if one did not have to feed so many slaves. It seems that your Taara is already punishing your people. It is unfortunate that it is likely the slaves who are starving more than the masters."
"Taara is everyone's Taara. She is every want inside every body, and yes, I suppose that *does* include the desire fore freedom as well in some cases."
Akorinil covers her mouth with her hand as she lets out a yawn, giving a smile at Cryosanthia. "Oh, no need. He told me of a lovely little store where I could find the earliest editions. It's been fascinating. Did you know that a great many of the characters in the Pen's writings are based off Alexandrian adventurers? I wonder how they could know you all so well."
"Slave labor has long endured in Charn, though as of late, it's converted more and more to be reliant on necromantic practices to fuel labor in the wake of ... difficulties. It has been ... profitable to the priesthood of Charn. Me, I can't say I'm fond: the dead want nothing." She lets out a sigh. "I suppose that's why they work best. As for why I'm here, I'm here by choice, I assure you. It's no exile."
Edinaz gives a sharp little grunt. "It's just a matter of what the dead are powered by that's a problem." He grunts. "But it's probably easier to think about that from here."
"This one is much enamoured of the Crimson Pen and has written a few stories therein," Cryo turns her head, whispering conspiratorily to Edinaz but still stuck on formal word choice, "Yes, it was, right through all my defense. I'm embarassed to know she likes it too."
And also making Seldan turn funny colours, a particular favourite of Cryo's. Ahem. This one is a Speaker; some things should not be spoken about.
She struggles for a good re-entry to the conversation, "This one imagines they don't make the best of book clubs. Alexandria would seem preferable under the circumstances." A joke about necromancy, how appropriate and sensitive. Well there's a reason the people burn their dead.
Edinaz nods. "It's neat. I know how to do that with a sword, but she's very good with words." He refocuses with a certain professional interest.
Merek begins working with the gardens.
"I find it..." Ebonne pauses, "Insulting?" She asks as if it were the right word, "To state that your divine can co-opt all other divinities simply by claiming every want." She has been laser focused in on the conversation, the 'young' war golem missing other less verbal social que's throughout. A slow shake of her helmeted head has her long silvery tail swaying back and forth. "I do not understand this mindset but find myself strangely... what is the word... happy? Or it could be pleased again, to know that since I lack many wants, I do not fuel a divinity that feeds on such suffering."
Merek notes to all the people and Akoniril. "I think slaves are not the best idea. You should free all of the slaves, I don't think it's productive to a society."
"She doesn't hold power over the nature of things. Just the want of them. Daeus is the God of Justice. He *is* justice, yes? But *wanting* justice belongs to Taara. The justice itself belongs to him, but the *want* of it belongs to her. Gods are multifaceted, my mechanical friend, and they interact in ways we can not begin to comprehend. But Taara simply is Want, and all that lives does that. It does not make her less or more than Thul or Maugrim, as they are all that they are, and touch us all. All that lives dies," she points out, "after all."
She does seem to find Ebonne's words understandable, however, even if she's explaining. Merek gets eyeballed, briefly, when he speaks to her.
"Would that I was Maugrim's chosen and could wish it to so," she offers, dryly. Then to Cryosanthia, a smile.
"Yes, there we go," she agrees, "It's the book clubs."
"Well, this one still agrees with her. This one doesn't believe all want is Taara's." Cryosanthia looks thoughtfully at Ebonna. She is examining her in more detail now, comparing her behaviour and reactions to the other war-golems she's friendly with, even considers friends. The differences are remarkable. Facing Akoniril once more, she inhales firmly, "This one would hope there is no Taara in her heart and seek to drive her out, if so."
It's crowded enough in there already. Besides, she's got dragon greed to deal with. Which... Taara is Maugrim's wife, so she's a dragon too. Maybe. Hopefully. Not! Hopefully not! Yes Maugrim is a pervert that sleeps around with non-dragons. Much better!
As she considers the plot of her next Crimson Pen penning, Cryo reminds herself: Do not argue religion with a Priest. Better to publish it anonymously in a scandalous trade paperback.
.. and Akoniril just wished to be Maugrim's wife. Supporting cast filled! It writes itself really.
Merek seems to think about it a moment, "That would be the same as saying that people are representative to every of the gods," the man mentions. "Charn is not in the best position at the moment, slavery only makes things difficult when it comes to economics. The gods are multifaceted although with that in mind I wouldn't exactly say any one thing belongs to only one."
'Chosen' is a position in Charn. One atop the religious structures there. A Chosen tends to be seen as a 'prophet' of their particular God.
Edinaz gets an indescribable look on his face, and he reddens and blinks as he tries to process some wayward thought.
"To accept that view," Ebonne says gently in her soft harmonious timbre, "Would be to give you a power over me that I am unwilling to accept. Your view is your own, and while it may be truth to you, it is the opinion of a Priestess that seeks to promote her Goddess. It is therefor suspect and I refute it. Even to my limited experience your description seems overly broad. Given that you are here by choice, rather than using your position to affect real change in your country, all your motives and beliefs are suspect."
The War Golem suddenly asks, "What makes a crimson ink special compared to black or blue or any other color?" She looks back and forth between all those whom are close. Including Merek and Edinaz.
"You would not question that the lightning belongs to the god of Storms, or the seas to the God of Seas. You don't doubt those things because they are real and tangible. You would not cast aside the notion that justice belongs to Daeus, or inspiration to Ceinara," points out Akorinil, "yet you doubt that want belongs to the Goddess of Want, because you do not love her and do not wish her to be part of you. I understand, but it makes her no less part of you, or all of us."
Akorinil looks at Merek, then to Ebonne, giving them a look. "Your wants are your's. Taara can't make them more than they are, or less than they are. The compact that defends your ability to choose at all sees to that. She does, offer, wisdom in the *pursuit* of those things. No one better to ask for your heart's wish than the Goddess of them." Then there's a pause. She reaches into her pouch, slowly, and produces a book. She holds it to Ebonne.
"Yes, although not all magic comes from the gods, though they keep the domain of what they are," Merek admits to Akorinil. "Either way, I should be back to taking care of the flowers, if that's okay."
Edinaz slaps Cryo on the back, a gesture to say 'Night, thanks for including me'. He's observed enough verbal combat, turns and leaves.
"She has sought to break that compact, the very oaths she swore in her own name. While her beautified message is one of freeing minds, it is for the accumulation of power and the corruption of innocence. Dominion over all, even her cihuaa Maugrim. This one will agree she is the Goddess of lies and their source in as much as Daeus is justice." Cryo says. Now she's arguing religion with a Priestess. Exhale, change topic. Do not think of one's own cihuaa. Focus. There's a lifeline here.
Yes! The little book!
The whitescale gestures to the booklet, "The colour of the ink is for dramatic purposes. Red represents blood, passion, and visually draws one's attention as it may be a threat. The Crimson Pen are a collection works by writers who publish fanciful stories of an adventurous and romantic nature. They are akin to plays, with more words. This one found them captivating, educational. They were of great assistance in understanding Softskin's desires and needs. The works speak of love, at times very intimate in nature. Or shockingly biological. Very educational..." She sounds wistful.
Gap in the armour there! Cryo straightens, holding her head higher. "This one reads it for professional reasons. The text is often unguarded in ways people usually aren't. The stories are derisively referred to as 'bodice rippers' but that does not happen in every case."
"Perhaps it will be educational in understanding the biological urges of those who have them." Ebonne says after listening to the explanation of them. "However, I worry that it will give me an unrealistic view if they are works of fiction. It is with some trepidation that I regard these written words." She holds the little red book out at arms length, studying the cover but not opening it yet. "Bodice ripper?" Ebonne asks, "That seems very wasteful." Then she looks down at her rather feminine shaped breastplate, "Would placing a bodice over my breastplate help my assimilation into this society?"
"Gods are complicated," agrees Akorinil with Cryosanthia, casually, "but the Gloomweaver is known for her intricate webs. Perhaps she sees more than you, hm?" She wiggles her fingers at her, then says to Ebonne, "You can keep that. Read it. I have more. I think it will help." A glance to Merek. She eyes him a moment. "Really, I *must* be going," she adds.
"Yes. Clothing is appreciated even if it is not needed." Cryo gestures to her own clothes, a thick velvet dress. She taps at her chest, looking contenmplative and staring off into space with a distracted expression. A stylized blue lizard appears in the fabric under her fingers, and then it animates, moving in short mirrored positions down to her hip where it vanishes behind the box she's holding. "Mine are magical, I felt the need to show off."
She smiles, wobbling her head. "The stories are unrealistic and exagerated. This one expected a lot more interesting banter during swordplay. Sadly it is more often 'Urrrg', and 'Uggg!' The capture the hope of how things might be."
The whitescale pauses for a moment, looking thoughtful again but in a different way. A hint of whimsy attaches to her words, and too much melancholy, "sometimes the writer is working out her thoughts regarding real events, seeking meaning that isn't there, an understanding of the big picture. Plus urges laid bare. No wonder you enjoy them, Priestess. And of course. This one must go also. Goodbye."
"Perhaps I can find a bodice of chain to match that which covers my lower region. I do not fully understand the requirement as I have no what was the term used... need to be modest, nor anything to cover but it seemed to make some individuals more comfortable. Perhaps it will be the same with the bodice. I will have to see what coin it will cost." When everyone seems to be taking their leave she remembers to nod. "Ah. I understand. While I do not agree with your interpretations of what is, and is not, divine and wish you did more to guide your people away from slavery and war upon their neighbors, you have been nothing but agreeable, and I thank you for the book. I shall return it once I read it, or return it unread. I am... torn. Like a bodice."
Ebonne turns towards Cryosanthia and gives her a slightly deeper nod of her head, "Magical clothing is quite beyond me, unfortunately. Perhaps in the future I will come to you for advice on how to proceed with proper decoration. Farewell. Both." The war golem turns suddenly and heads across the market towards the nearest armorsmith.
"...hm. Magical clothing. You should see some of the fashions in Charn and oh look at the time I ought to be going," Akorinil wiggles her fingers and then begins to stride awayy, guards following her with a sigh.]
Cryosanthia watches Akoniril and escorts depart. She watches as they grow smaller in the distance until she's sure they aren't coming back. Another cold breath leaves her in a heavy exhale. She turns to Ebonne, "The clothes are rather affordable. Seer Merek over there made mine eighty years ago, they have held up well. Should you get some this will share fashion tips, and I also agree, a chain skirt would be suitable. Some are upset by seeing legs and the spaces between them even when there is nothing to see."
The whitescale inclines her head in a bow, "Thank you for your words with her. They were insightful. I feel we lost that engagement, she learned more about us than we did about her, nothing about why she is here or what she's after. I wasn't prepared."
Cryo exhales again, raising her free hand to Merek, "Hi, and this one must say bye also. Faran will only egg-watch so long and this was supposed to be a quick pickup."
The whitescale heads off with a wave, calling, "Peace on your Nests!"
Dramatis Personae
Ebonne
Like many war born this particular construct is taller than many reaching nearly a full seven feet in height. More than that if one counts the top knot of her 'helmet'. The helmet has a top knot angling up and back which from sprouts a long thick mane of silvery hair that flows down her back. Her is appropriate as the construct has taken to what is quite clearly feminine body styling and facial features. The faceplate of the steel helmet is a stylistic sculpt of a beautiful woman's face by human many standards. High cheekbones. Angular jaw. Pointed chin. Full lips. Like a metal woman was wearing the helmet. Except for the eyes, they are saphire gemstones wrapped in a web of silver web style mesh.
The feminine styling continues as the steel breastplate is clearly styled with the female figure in mind. It is of excellent quality. Additional garments supplement the armor. A loincloth of extremely fine silvery steel links hugs to a slender waist, the curves of hips and thigh are covered in decorative thin silvery steel plates. She even wears knee high boots and elbow length gloves to complete the more 'garbed and civilized' look. The materials of her construction under the steel look like unreflective black metal laced with silver tracework and veins of black quartz.
A pair of low slung belts hold a quiver of arrows on one side and a sheathed longsword on the other. A light shield and a longbow round out the look.
Iuitl
Just a couple inches taller than five feet, Iuitl is not a very imposing creature. She stands with a hunch, often supporting herself with the large spear she carries around. This sith-makar has mottled black scales and a ratty head of long white feathers. Her eyes are shaped such that her gaze always looks tired, with a pair of eyes that stare out, like pools of green bog. Her teeth are fairly well-maintained, despite this appearance. Her clothing is a set of robes and furs that shield much of her figure from view. The end of her tail, almost always visible and barely kept raised off the ground, has a tuft of ashen grey feathers in much the same style as her head.
Cryosanthia
Cryosanthia is an elegant sith-makar woman in the first year of her second century. She radiates confidence, a deep power from within. Her scales are a brilliant white, highlighted by ones which are the palest of glacial blues. These pale scales trace out the scars she used to bear, her hide is restored. She bears two fantastic patterns of these, one on her chest, the other completely covering her back from crest to tailtip. When the light hits right, one sees the dragon within. Her bearing is intense, her motions minimal grace. Two horns sweep back from her brow. Her eyes are like glittering saphhire gems, and when she blinks her eyelids have the glacial blue to them as well. She carries no weapons, and still keeps a tiny bag close to her heart.
Her clothing is various ensembles. At times she wears a layered robe, a mithril swashbuckling outfit, kilted leather, a loincloth, or nothing. The colours inevitably mirror her own. Brilliant white with shimmering blue highlights, piping and whorls. Snowflakes and dragon-eyes are a common motif.
Cryo has been changed, physically and fundamentally by her experiences. She grew into herself under the Queen of Endless Winter, and struggles to reconnect with herself, her body, and friends she hasn't seen in decades. Alien at times even to the sith-makar, her heritage is written on her scales, along with her spells.
Speaker of the Sith'makar
OOC
<OOC> Whirlpool says, "I am stunned someone remembered or went to check her full name xD"
<OOC> Cryosanthia is a diplomat.
<OOC> Whirlpool Cracking up.
<OOC> Whirlpool cracking up again.
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "Merek, Cryo is in a power negotiation with Akoniril, it's verbal combat, as Edinaz eludes. Edinaz and Ebonne are engaging Akoniril also, so she is supporting or interacting with them. She's 'on the job', when she breaks free she'll say hello to Merek, but if he doesn't speak to Akoniril she's not considering him 'in the fight'. This is diplomat stuff Merek would understand with his high diplomacy."
<OOC> Whirlpool says, "You have a high diplomacy, so Cryo was just breaking down for you what was going on and why she didn't respond to Merek drrectly so you didn't feel you were being ignored :)"
<OOC> Whirlpool says, "Meanwhile, I'm cracking up at Cryo's reaction to the Crimson Pen :)"
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "Critical Hit with the Crimson Pen."
<OOC> Ebonne feels that Ebonne would by her very nature of being inexperienced with fleshy interactions, miss subtle social que's in such a crowded environment.
<OOC> Whirlpool approves of Ebonne. You are doing great by the way.
<OOC> Cryosanthia gets such a funny look you can almost read her thoughts. :)
<OOC> Edinaz says, "Edinaz suddenly understands Maugrim Rule 34 from Cryo's face?"
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "yus"
<OOC> Whirlpool says, "I sent our poses about Seldan to Seldanplayer."
<OOC> Whirlpool says, "Because they'll crack up at that."
<OOC> Ebonne says, "Ok so, what is Ebonne going to be seeing when she opens the book?"
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "I'll answer that."
<OOC> Whirlpool says, "ahaha"
<OOC> Whirlpool says, "Cryo, you're more than welcvome to share the answer."
<OOC> Whirlpool says, "It is, in fact, a Crimson Pen novella."
<OOC> Ebonne says, "I don't oocly know what that means"
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "I'll answer IC and OOC you'll know too, working!"
<OOC> Ebonne says, "So it's cheesy romance novel, got it :)"
<OOC> Whirlpool says, "yes. XD"
<OOC> Ebonne says, "Is it wrong of me to be cracking up that a war golem is asking a dragon for advice on how to be sexy?"
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "Heee! it is. :)"
<OOC> Whirlpool says, "No, it's funny :)"
<OOC> Merek says, "Did i miss something"
<OOC> Whirlpool says, "Just RP!"
<OOC> Merek says, "now i'm sad, this is my normal hangout place."
<OOC> Merek says, "what kinda rp"
<OOC> Whirlpool says, "Yep! Akorinil is here. XD"
<OOC> Merek says, "Who's akoniril?"
<OOC> Merek says, "also mind me coming by?"
<OOC> Ebonne says, "Charn ambassador"
<OOC> Merek says, "Ah."
<OOC> Merek says, "The mul lady?"
<OOC> Merek says, "The one Merek wants to kill?"
<OOC> Whirlpool says, "Yes."
<OOC> Merek says, "Would people be able to set for me?"
<OOC> Merek says, "Good, the perfect setup for a well placed fireball."
<OOC> Merek says, "I'm joking Whirl."
<OOC> Merek is confused.
<OOC> Whirlpool says, "What over?"
<OOC> Merek says, "why people are laughing"
<OOC> Whirlpool says, "The bit between Akorinil and Cryo on Seldan was funny."
<OOC> Merek says, "Ah."
<OOC> Merek says, "Well I don't have much to add so no poses from me for now."
<OOC> Merek says, "i mean"
<OOC> Merek says, "it's"
<OOC> Merek says, "idk"
<OOC> Merek says, "Everyone being witty. meanwhile merek: slavery bad"
<OOC> Whirlpool says, "SLAVES BAD"
<OOC> Merek says, "I will probably put more in next pose after he gets a response from Akalak."
<OOC> Merek says, "Sorry, tired, I'm sure Merek's pose makes sense to someone somewhere."
<OOC> Merek says, "i always pick the worst times to get super tired"