With Jealousy, Part 2
Log Info
- Title: With Jealousy, Part 2
- Emitter: Ravenstongue
- Place: A10 - Temple of Althea
- Summary: Aryia, Auranar, Dolan, Lysos, Seyardu, and Telamon all grapple with what they just witnessed through Seyardu's scrying for Ravenstongue's whereabouts. Once they identify the spell, the group identifies a direction forward: north on the Eldwyn Road. Auranar and Lysos team up to get information by posing as noblewoman and servant, learning about Lady Ainasse's estate in the Mythwood, while Dolan, Aryia, and Telamon all overhear rumors about the strange half-elf man that had cast feeblemind onto Ravenstongue, identifying him as Kar, Karant, or Karan'taara, depending on the rumor--a strange man who makes people uncomfortable. The group books a carriage and rides to the borders of the Mythwood to Thornhall Manor, where Lady Ainasse has made her stay. They are greeted by a an elderly wild elf woman who speaks to the group, apparently a servant of Lady Ainasse who no longer understands her lady's actions. She opens the doors of the manor after asking the party to put all of her former friends to rest, and an ominous groaning comes from inside the house.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--<* A10: Temple of Althea *>=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
The term 'marble temple' only holds up insofar as the temple's outer edifice is concerned. Twin statues of Althea, each of them bearing gently glowing blue staves, provide welcome either side of the entrance, a door which has never been closed in recent memory. A place of community and warmth, a sense of warmth and welcome quickly overtakes most visitors upon entry.
Serrielite and Angorite devotees guard the outside entrances, while blue star-robed Hearthguard wander just inside, performing and guiding various charitable tasks. One can even see a smaller, more discrete entrance if one looks, from whence comes and go the Mourners of Vardama, carrying their somber burdens.
Designed to be open and welcoming, the place is a bustle of family and community-centered activity. A great, central oven serves the double duties of fireplace and food preparation on a grand scale that makes the temple a favorite for gatherings. Althean worshippers and Hearthguards alike tirelessly bake and cook for the less fortunate, while younger Hearthguards sit on comfortably cushioned divans with worshippers and petitioners, dispensing advice and Althea's kind words. Wreaths of herbs hang from the ceilings, giving a pleasant scent, while a pool fed by a small artificial waterfall provides fresh water for bathing wounds or blessing of children and worshippers. A procession of doors and halls lead off to various rooms. While many lead to places such as rooms, offices, and libraries for the Hearthguard, there is also a well-known hospice, as well as the transient bunks, and even counseling rooms for when a family member nears their end. This last area is overseen by Hearthguard and Mourner alike, in respectful accordance with local customs.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- Dramatis Personae =--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- Aryia 4'8" 110 Lb Shadow Elf Female A heavily scarred mul with a resolved look about her. Auranar 4'8" 123 Lb Wild Elf Female A wild elf with dark skin and a red dress Dolan 5'10" 174 Lb Human Male Brown-haired human with scars down his face. Lysos 5'6" 105 Lb Human/Tsuran Female Dark eyed tsuran girl. Seyardu 5'6" 150 Lb Sith-Makar Female A friendly silver sith-makar with a perpetual squint. Telamon 5'6" 140 Lb Half-Elf Male A platinum-blond half-sil man with dancing dark eyes -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- As the GM -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Ravenstongue 5'0" 99 Lb Half-Elf Female Short half-elf girl with violet eyes and black hair. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
- The Temple of Althea, evening.
Seyardu's call upon the celestial mother to aid her in the scrying was successful, but it showed a grim reality.
The vision showed Cor'lana riding in a horse-drawn carriage at a galloping pace, northward bound away from Alexandria on the Eldwyn Road. Inside the carriage was the robed man who matched Telamon's description, who pulled down his hood to reveal his features: a pale-faced half-elven man with dark blue eyes that seem to be bereft of light or mirth. The party of would-be rescuers had to watch helplessly as the robed man cast a noxious spell onto Cor'lana, causing the girl to slump over in her carriage as her words turned incoherent.
Pothy gives a little whimper as he looks away from the vision--another sad little raven croak that serves as his best approximation for tears. "Lana," he murmurs in Telamon's voice.
(Checks to identify the spell the man cast.) GAME: Telamon rolls spellcraft+10: (10)+13+10: 33 GAME: Dolan rolls spellcraft+10: (6)+7+10: 23 GAME: Auranar rolls spellcraft+10: Trained Use Only: 0 GAME: Seyardu rolls spellcraft+10: (8)+6+10: 24 GAME: Aryia rolls spellcraft+10: Trained Use Only: 0 GAME: Lysos rolls spellcraft+10: (8)+8+10: 26
Telamon almost calls out to Lana, his hand reflexively moving towards the image. But he manages to stop himself, bottle up his cry, his eyes flicking around to try and pick out landmarks. Desperately trying to focus on the task at hand.
When the black haired half-elf uses that spell on Cor'lana, his eyes flare, and for a moment it looks like he's going to try and leap through the scrying pool, before barely getting hold of himself. Then the image fades, thankfully taking away the vision of his love left bereft of reason.
"Wizard's bane. That son of a bitch. I've read about it." Tel walks over to the wall, slamming a fist into it. "It... it can be reversed. But we need to find her."
Aryia didn't have much to add about what was seen. She herself wasn't versed in the ways of magic, nor in current noble interactions, but her jaw tenses and her fingers curl into fists under her crossed arms.
A brow quirks up at the mention of Wizard's bane, recognition never entering her scarred visage, but her eyes glance between the group gathered here and the door out.
"Aren't you a little shit, probably working for a bigger shit," Dolan snarls softly under his breath as the spell takes hold and the vision comes clear. "Feeblemind spell," he explains, looking in Auranar's direction. "It robs a spellcaster of their wits. Let's go find this Lady Ass and her lackey."
Auranar is... still a fledgling when it comes to magic. Recognizing another's incantations and hand-movements are... beyond her abilities. Not so however words like 'Wizards Bane'. That turn of phrase she at least understands and it spills a cold feeling into her chest as she remembers the last vision of Cor'lana. Head lolling and his words. Something about a show? "They seem to have a plan for her." She doesn't ask Telamon if he recognized the man, because it's all too clear that he hadn't. "We should move quickly to disrupt it then."
Lysos makes a face of disgust, appearing to also recognize the enchantment. She glances at Telamon, wondering if there's even anything she could say to offer the man some sense of comfort.. but that would probably require people closer to him than she is. So she looks back at the pool where the image faded. "Robs anyone of their wits," she reminds. "Be almost as bad for anyone else." She takes a half step back, turning. "I have an idea to try and get some hints on what might be going on.. where they might be going... but I'm going to have to do this myself. Actually, if someone wants to come and pretend to be my.. uh.. servant.. it might help. Is there a spot we can meet?"
With the water returning to normal, Seyardu sighs and pulls out the strip of fabric from the bottom, returning it to the jar that she passes back to Telamon. "Wizards bane, robbing spellcasters of their wits, you are robbing people without them of just as much, unless you view non wizards as no more than bags of meat to fight things for you." The cleric states while she is cleaning the basin. "It is a feeblemind spell, yes, one that will make anyone incapable of speech, spoken or understanding it, or any other ways of communicating."
"The wagon is moving, I will let someone know to clean out the basin and return the mirror which I used. We do not have time to spare, but if any of you have preparations that must be made, it will not do to go without a plan."
Telamon leans against the wall, breathing hard. Trying to focus. After a few moments, he swallows. "They were headed north from Alexandria on the Eldwyn Road." He turns around to look at the others, his face tight. "I don't know where they might be headed, but that road eventually leads to the Mythwood." The mention of the Mythwood seems to calm him, and he pushes off from the wall.
"As Seyardu says, they're en route. So we don't have a lot of time. Lysos, what's your idea?" Tel looks to the tsuran girl, rubbing his face for a moment before reaching up to pet Pothy again.
Aryia can't help but snort from Dolan's apt naming convention, though she rolls her shoulders and shoves a hand in a pocket. Mention of the Mythwood makes a slight frown twitch at her lips, but she gives a light nod. "I don't know," a hand flicks about, "Maybe trading her for some prissy shit? RT for favor?"
She looks to Lysos and tilts her head to the side inquisitively. <Handspeech/Tongues>
Lysos shrugs. "The Mythwood's a pretty big place. Aryia's eagerness to.. uh.. talk to some of the wicked stepmother's associates got me thinking. I.. um... knew some people.. who had this.. story.. they liked to use to get 'donations'. I think I might be able to get some information, see if anyone has any clues about her plans. Or specifics about her destination.
"Save your ire for someone who's opposing you, Hearthguard. I'm not dismissing what it does to anyone." Dolan's tone is just a little sharp, but he leaves it at that, and turns instead to Lysos. "Thinking to pose as somebody with money and see what you can learn? Smart idea, but do we have the time for that? How long do you think it'll take?"
Auranar hesiates then lifts a hand. "I can act as a servant if need be. I... Have been trained in such things and know how to act." She offers a thin smile. "Perhaps while me and she aquire the information the rest of you can gather anything we might need to fight such a powerful mage? That way either way... the time is not wasted."
"This one has ire for whoever told you that explanation for the spell, or the writer of whatever book it was written in. As well as for someone who would decide to use the spell while kidnapping someone, that is a big problem." The cleric sighs, leaving for the door. "We could look into finding where they are going, that may be ideal, we might not be able to catch up to them with the head start they already have. So ambushing them where they may stop or rest for the night may be necessary. If you feel you can get relevant information from doing this, this one will support however they are capable, Lysos. But for now, this mirror is expensive, and not to be left out."
And with that, the cleric exits the room at a brisk pace.
"Dolan..." Telamon gives the other man a tired look. "Let's worry about the task at hand." He rubs his temples. "Aryia... brings up a point. Though I wonder who Ainasse... Lady Ass..." he smirks at that sobriquet, "would be offering Lana to in such a trade. It's a dangerous game she's playing."
He pauses, thinking of something. "Where the hell is Glorenacil in this? That's... her husband, Lana's father. This doesn't seem like his style." His lips quirk. "Plus, he's supposed to be in Llyranost. Of course, so is Lady Ass..."
He takes a deep breath. "Do we go to Mythwood, and try to catch up with them there? My heart says to try and cut them off -- plus, I have family there in the Mythwood, and someone might have seen something."
Lysos nods, and despite the situation, her eyes gleam a little bit. Might have something to do with potentially being able to contribute WITHOUT her life being put in mortal danger. "Alright. Then, maybe if Telamon or Pothy have any ideas of who we should try first," Lysos says, gesturing to Auranar, "It might speed it up.. but I think we can get some one to point us to people who might. And if we don't find anything quickly, we meet with you when you think you're going to be done, and we set off as fast as we can."
Aryia watches Seyardu vacate the premises to speed things along, her taking a half step towards the exit. "Going to be honest here, I'm fucking useless with information gathering. You lot-" she points to Lysos and Auranar, then vaguely gestures to remaining folk, "-figure out what we need to know. I'll make fast work getting us a ride. I don't need to preparation. Meet you at the gates."
And with that, the pugilist turns and dashes off in a grey blur. <Handspeech/Tongues>
Dolan turns his entire face towards Telamon and regards him levelly, but there's compassion lurking behind the single brown eye. Instead, he merely shrugs. "If we're going into the Mythwood, we probably ought to be ready to be gone for a couple of days, and we won't have time to hunt. I'll get us some provisions." He doesn't wait for an answer, turning in a different direction and jogging up the street, past warehouses and docks, to where the quartermasters resupply.
Auranar steps closer to Lysos, ready to follow the other woman where she might lead. "I have some clothes at my house that will suffice to work for a lady's servant. This is a little more... Lady than servant." She motions to her red coat and dress with a small trace of amusement before she beckons Lysos to follow her. One last look at Telamon. "We will meet you at the gates, but if we are late, travel ahead and we will rush horses to where we can find you along the way."
GAME: Dolan rolls perception: (6)+9: 15 GAME: Telamon rolls diplomacy+3+2+5: (7)+18+3+2+5: 35 GAME: Lysos rolls bluff+15: (15)+22+15: 52 GAME: Seyardu rolls perception: (2)+7: 9 GAME: Aryia rolls perception: (11)+29: 40
Aryia zips around Alexandria proper, getting a covered wagon ride put together for the party and fetching what she supplies she could. Sharp ears pick up something disturbing, her squinting at nothing in particular before noting it down in her journal.
Being so fast, she does pick up a pouch full of cold iron coin blanks. Just in case. You know. For some fey bullshit or whatever.
Ride arranged, the pugilist waits in the back with the reins over one shoulder. Ready to roll.
First stop is Auranar's house, for the elven woman was correct... it is often the clothes that make the lie. So after a hasty wardrobe change, Lysos and Auranar hit the streets, heading immediatel for the noble district as directed by Telamon on their quest to gather information. Information that will hopefully give them something they can use to find Ravenstongue, and perhaps give them an edge.
The plan is simple. Pretend Lysos is disgustingly rich, but misfortune has cut her off from this wealth. Left only with a single servant (and quite a useful one at that. Literate, good with numbers!) she seeks Lady Ainasse as the key to returning her to her money. Any information that leads to finding the Lady and recovering Lysos's wealth will be generously rewarded. A simple lie, one made to prey upon the greed inherent in upper class.
And the pair pull it off. It may almost be frightening at how well Lysos seems to slip into the role, especially considering how quickly her bravery tends to leave her in times of crisis. Also peculiar is how during this time her famous bad luck doesn't appear to manifest. Could the two be related? Whatever the case, after only a single false start, Lysos and Auranar follow a trail of information eventually leading them a noble of elvish descent. Despite the man's dreadfully gaudy taste in fashion, Lysos manages to stick to the story, heaping promises of shared wealth upon the man.. treasures rivaled only by dragonkind themselves.. if only she could find Lady Ainasse!
Lysos leaves Auranar to take notes, of course. Something she'll definitely apologize profusely for later. But the lie is all important. And with the lie they manage to discover that some months ago, Lady Ainasses purchaed a small manor right on the edge of the Mythwood, sometime between the rumoured split and divorce of her husband. Since that time, her Alexandrian estates were sold off, and she hasn't been seen since.
This hopefully doesn't eat too much of the time given to Auranar and Lysos. With the information in hand, they head for the gates for a date with destiny. Or, at least, the rest of the group to save a friend.
It's hard for Telamon to even summon the strength to leave the Althean temple. After watching that... he grits his teeth, and focuses. He doesn't go to the noble quarter -- that's Lysos and Auranar's task. Instead, he heads to the gates... and inspiration strikes.
Drawing on his emotional reserves, he pastes a smile on his face, and asks the guards about 'a rather fetching coach of elvish make that left recently'. Which leads him to an elf who deals in coach rentals... and a little more information.
Walking back towards the gates, seeing Aryia, he offers a small, tired smile. Scratching Pothy's feathers, as he climbs up into the wagon. "Found a little something," he comments quietly. "I'll tell you when the others get here."
Dolan similarly spends some time tracking down what of the supplies and provisions Aryia doesn't manage, and when he arrives at the gates, walks around the wagon until he spots Aryia. Along the way, his ears had picked up a tidbit as well - a small tidbit, but perhaps useful nonetheless. "The others come back yet?" he asks, swinging the pair of burlap sacks in his hands, one at a time, into the back of the wagon.
Seyardu does not have too much to do herself. But on her way to return the mirror, she is waylaid by a few junior clerics and acolytes, in order to provide insight and care to some of those in need of more intensive care. She does stop long enough to assure the others she will be ready when they are ready to depart.
Her travel was uneventful, as none came to mind on the way to whom she would talk, and the gate guards and herself did not have the best of rapports. She did however find what appeared to be a dark feather, it could be a raven feather, but she wasn't sure. Perhaps Cor'lana's grandfather was watching over them for the time being, which was a good sign. She tucked it to stick out of a pocket on her bag, and continued on her way until she reached the cart, hopping in the back so she would not waste time walking.
After their journey, Lysos and Auranar are... perhaps the last to arrive. With Lysos dressed the part of a down-on-her-luck lady and Auranar her lady-in-waiting. There's a stack of notes in Auranar's hand. She didn't need an apology from Lysos for the note-taking. If anything it made her feel more a part of the group. She seems in somewhat better cheer when she arrives with Lysos at the gate. Her black eyes full of thoughts and she nods politely to Telamon as they arrive and seems to relax somewhat. Playing the part of a servant means carrying oneself very stiffly after all. "We have some information!" She offers, and seeing everyone present, continues. "Seems that the Lady in question is perhaps separated from her husband, and has a house in the Mythwood."
Aryia bobs her head towards Telamon, her rocking a pinky and thumb between the two of them. "Same."
She waves to the others as they approach, her beckoning for everyone to climb aboard as she readies to go. Very Type A attitude at present. "Let's chat on the road." <Handspeech/Tongues>
As the party loads up on the wagon and it begins to move, Telamon waits for the vehicle to slide free of the gates and walls proper. Once that's done, he looks at Lysos and Auranar with interest. "Truly? That's... new. The Mythwood residence. I knew she'd left Glorenacil."
"Odd, though. I wonder if she intends to stay there? I'm from Ylvaliel, as is my family -- and they've met Cor'lana. One errant glance and someone will start asking very inconvenient questions." Tel looks up at the darkening skies. "Very strange."
He looks back to the others. "The half-elf mage is named 'Karant'. He rented the coach, and passed off Lana as his 'drunk sister' -- plausible, considering his hair is as dark as hers. Mentioned they were going just outside of the Mythwood as well, which matches."
"Kar." Dolan's tone from the back of the wagon is gruff. "Raised a few eyebrows in Alexandria, he did. Not too much gossip, it I got the impression he gave a few people the creeps. With good reason, looks like." He's perched on the back of the wagon, looking outward. The harness is off of his back and stowed with his things, the greatsword within easy reach.
Lysos, for her part, looks exhausted. She does offer a rather informal wave when she and Auranar arrives, but she is happy to leave it to the elf woman to offer their findings. She climbs into the wagon as the others do, certainly glad they made it back in time.. then proceeds to extract her scarf from her hair, shake it out.. and then put it back the way she's more accustomed to. "Whatveer is is," she finally says, closing her eyes. "This sounds like it's been planned for a while."
It's good to have a name to go with the face of the man who abducted Cor'lana. Auranar mouths it to herself once and nods. "Seems the Mythwood is where we should begin." This is simply enough said, but it will take them some time to reach that destination. Thankfully the others have proccured them means of transportation. It seems that their time as well was well spent. Nothing was truly wasted in their efforts, and the collaboration only mean that they had confirmation.
Seyardu looks to find the others who have arrived, and she nods to them each in turn as she pulls the raven's feather out of her bag. "I am glad you have all found information that will help. I made sure that I would have magic to treat the feeblemind spell put in place when we found her, but my time was taken up by various duties at the temple, I am sorry. It took pushing another scrying out of the way to prepare one for Cor'lana, so they needed attending to as well. It did not leave me much time for inquiries, though I did find an interesting feather on the ground. I believe it could be a raven's feather, or it could be an eagle or hawk feather, of little import. It did remind me however that I should have asked Cozamalotl which bookstore she encountered the feathered one at, so I might speak to them about what happened. But she orders from so many stores it did not narrow it down enough without a name."
"That, and I would not wish to incite their wrath, so speaking to them would be a challenging endeavor. Not impossible, but It would need great care in handling."
Aryia holds out a piece of paper to pass around. It reads:
"Karan'taara = Friend of Taara?"
"Heard that being flung around while I was getting this put together," she gestures after jabbing a finger towards the page. Her brows furrow towards the others' information, especially Telamon. "... yeah, someone's getting their face caved in by the end of this by me."
She nods towards Auranar, and whips the reins to set them off on a path towards the Mythwood once they're in. <Handspeech/Tongues>
The Eldwyn Road is winding as it always is, going through the landscape of the Heartlands on a galloping speed...
It is in the dead of the night going into the small hours of the morning when a manor is spotted on the horizon--a jarring thing in the woods that are on the cusp of the elven-guarded Mythwood, but there it is anyway, a large marble structure that has a sign out front that Lysos and Auranar recognize from the nobleman's ramblings about Lady Ainasse: Thornhall Manor. A carriage is out front of the Manor very similar to the one seen in the scrying, but the horses are nowhere to be seen. If there are stables, they're behind the manor--or perhaps some other fate has fallen the horses.
More curiously: there is a woman, a wild elf with wrinkles that line her face and gray hair that is tied back into a tight bun, dressed in a simple and unassuming black dress that seem suited for labor. She holds a lantern as she stands out front, the sole greeting that the group of rescuers have, and shivers a little from the night breeze that blows through. There's no arms on her, and her left eye is hidden by a white eyepatch. She simply waits, her eyes trained on the incoming carriage.
Telamon starts to say something to Aryia, then realizes the mul'niessa pugilist has probably seen the woman already. Well... no point in being coy about this. He levers himself up in the wagon as it starts to come to a stop, regarding the older elf, before addressing her in Tradespeak for the benefit of his companions.
"Good evening, madam. Is this the residence of Ainasse Son'doriel?" His tone is polite, congenial, and only the others in the wagon might see Tel's fingers flexing on the edge of the wagon, knuckles whitened.
Lysos took the opportunity to get some sleep. Well, some rest. A wagon, no matter how well constructed, is not the best place for rest.. but Lysos is a tsuran and wagons were, at one point, her life. She opens her eyes when the wagon rolls to a stop, just in time to see Telamon rise to greet the old elf ahead. She straightens, rubbing the sleep from her eyes so she can peer forward and see who he's talking to... and Thornill Manor. Her heartbeat quickens... but she was expecting it. "Well..." she says after a few seconds, commenting quietly on Telamon's approach. "That's one way to cut to it." Not that she had any better ideas.
It's the sildanyar, at this point. Dolan doesn't speak their language, nor usually meddle in their affairs. He's here to save a friend, not dance with fey politics, and so he shuts his mouth and looks to his gear, remaining quiet and seated at the back of the wagon.
Admittedly, Auranar is not the best at lying, but she wonders even as Telamon speaks if honesty is the best policy here. It's not her choice to make however. Telamon speaks, and she keeps her eyes lowered somewhat. Keeps her bearing circomspect. She could be mistaken still for a maid. If she can, she'll play the part of a servant as long as she can. Perhaps that way she might be able to gather some information.
Seyardu had an uneventful trip, as many others were much better suited to finding anything out of sorts from the back of a moving vehicle, so she resolved herself to relaxing just a bit for the ride, reading a small tome that is put away when they reach the manor in question. This stop makes her sit up straight, which doesn't give that much extra height.
"If you require aid, I am a cleric, if you are injured. What brings you out to this area, madam?" Seyardu asks curiously.
Aryia is busy focusing on keeping the ride going forward, as well as looking beyond as the night sets in.
She buckles up her jacket, shades being pushed up her head as shining eyes cut through the night. She snaps a finger and points up ahead, spotting the wild elf in the night (Telamon was correct on this asusmption). She pulls the wagon to a stop, and she swings her gaze about, fingers drumming against her side as her eyes narrow at the other carriage nearby.
Better to let the others do the talking.
The old wild elf woman fixes Telamon with a one-eyed stare from a brown eye that seems simultaneously analytical and intimidating. "It is," she says, "for whatever that's worth. I was told a group would be coming for the release of the girl and to await their arrival. It appears that's the case."
A creaking noise comes from within the woods. The old elf woman doesn't move. "Hate this damn place," she mutters for a moment. "Don't understand why the Lady picked it. I don't understand why she does anything these days."
She looks at everyone in the wagon, her brown eye lingering for a moment on each person. In particular, she looks longer at Dolan and at Auranar, and she sighs after she looks to the moonless sky above. "Of course, they would send one of my kin and one of His blessed soldiers here, to this damned place," she mutters.
The old woman makes a gesture to the group to follow her as she walks slowly, turning with her lantern towards the manor. "I thank you for your concern, child of scales," she says to Seyardu's comment at last, "but I doubt you're able to regrow a ruined eye."
She pauses at the tall doors of the manor for a moment, turning before she looks to the group, a solemn look settling into that brown eye of hers.
"I'm old. I don't give a shit what happens to me at this point. Put me in the ground for the forest to grow anew. But do me a favor? ... Put the people you find inside to rest."
She closes her eye and sighs deeply. "They were my friends, before that man came here with the Lady."
And she pushes in the doors. The sounds of groaning comes from deeper inside the house.